Gattlebee steps into view, looking a bit bewildered, before he gasps in mock surprise. "You're the group Dunsmith sent to escort me, right? Well, you managed to make it through the traps alright, besides one," he says as he steps on a floorboard as wooden bullets shoot out in the gulf between the lot of you, and him, causing the trap to be disarmed.
You notice that he carries with him a cage containing a chameleon... albeit one with six legs, presumably mutated a tad by the Mana Wastes radiation, but not enough to result in the more... infamous mutations that causes creatures, beasts, and animals to wreck havoc.
"Alright. Any more questions to ask before we head out? I might need to stop by the All Yeast Brewery a bit before we get to our actual destination, though."
"We are the group sent to escort you. Do you have anything on you that might be....dangerous...in the wrong circumstances?" Thraag asks while trying not to say Dunsmith's name outloud.
"Besides being an alchemist and being able to make bombs out of nearly anything," he says with a chuckle, "no."
"Wear this hat as well, it will hide what you look like. The lizard might be a problem. Can we put a cloth over the cage?" Thraag says as he offers the Hat of Disguise.
Gattlebee dons the hat, turning into a clean-shaven male dwarf as bits of his height leave him. "Arright," he says in an unfamiliar-to-him voice with the hat masking his true identity, "Just lemme reset the traps and get Slick. Ah bolts, where’d that lizard go? Slick!"
The sounds of breaking glass and shattering woodprecede a calamitous sight: Gattlebee’s six-legged chameleon suddenly growing first to the size of a cat, then a dog, then a horse, all in a matter of moments. The chameleon, as startled as anyone, smashes through the table in the middle of the lab and clambers about, spilling papers and alchemical equipment everywhere. Gattlebee pinches the bridge of his nose, exasperated. "Ah, bolts. Slick’s gotten into the growth serum again. You see the shrink potion anywhere? Never mind; what am I asking you for? Just take care of this. I gotta get my coat from the other room, anyway. Try not to kill 'im."
Narl takes a quick glance around at the aforementioned shrink potion...
...but not seeing it, sighs and tries to wrestle the enlarged lizard.
Erryll hadn't exactly announced that he was detecting for magic, and wasn't exactly planning to take anything without asking either, but when the Duke of Demolition said there was a missing potion, well, Erryll was all over that.
Erryll manages to find the shrinking potion among the assorted alchemical and magical potions and elixirs dotting the table. Meanwhile, explosions are heard as Slick knocks things off of tables, causing an explosion that misses all of you as volatile agents intermix.
After the lizard is slightly startled, it sticks out its tongue at Thraag, causing the Occultist to be stuck to the lizard's tongue!
Thraag calls out at Onello, "Get in here and help shrink this blasted lizard before it eats me!"
Thraag grabs at the tongue as he speaks!
Flinching at the repeated small explosions, Narl redoubles his efforts to grab the giant lizard.
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Erryll manages to shove the potion onto the tongue of the creature, causing it to gradually shrink as Gattlebee goes into the room to personally find it himself, as he's already prepared. "Oh, seems you already have it. Should we head out then," he says as he walks towards the door, barely waiting for all of you.
Narl finds the the lizard much easier to grapple once it's been returned to its original size. Holding it by the tail, he wordlessly hands it Gattleebee as the alchemist walks past.
Shaking his head in bewilderment at the others, he heads out to direct Gattleebee into the wagon he's procured.
Seeing Gattlebee ready to exit the building, Onnello gestures towards the gate, "Let's get out of here."
"genius idea! let's!"
"Alright," Gattlebee says as he picks up and pets his mischevious now-normal-sized pet chameleon as it changes colors to match his shirt, somewhat concealing itself as if it heard the talk of shooting it. "Now that slick's all normal sized again, let's head out." Once you do head out, you're pretty much the talk of every street you head on, and some people start asking Gattlebee questions about pyronite, which he politely refuses to answer -- giving vague excuses about not wanting everyone to have access to such a powerful weapon.
You finally, after a while of walking, arrive at Bottleneck Bridge, which your successful preparations have determined there would likely be an ambush here... which admittedly you still kind of run into one regardless. A wide stone bridge connects the two shores of a rushing river. Carts and carriages frequent the center of the bridge while pedestrians stay toward the edges. The calls of vendors hawking their wares echo on the stonework as the merchants eagerly entice passersby to their wooden stalls. The twenty-foot-wide bridge runs forty-five feet, north to south. There are three fishmongers trying to sell their wares to some street vendors that look at you... suspiciously, but then they take out ornately decorated weapons and pounce (metaphorically) on you once they see Gattlebee -- two seeming alchemists armed with pistols and vials, and one gunner armed with only a non-ornate pistol.
"That's them! Those are the guys that are protecting Gattlebee! Get 'em for the boss!"
You did expect something might go down here thanks to your preparation in advance (no surprise round), so it doesn't really take you by surprise when a single shot is fired, at Told specifically, by the non-alchemist of the bunch.
As the Gun Smuggler shoots, you hear a bombadier screeching at her to stop. "They're supposed to be disguised! How in Brigh's name do you expect us to get away with murdering some random passerbies because they're the right number of people! Think, idiot, think!"
At this point you see the two alchemist lower their weapons, but the gunslinger still has her weapon raised. "I just have a gut feeling, okay! Something tells me this is them!"
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL "Something tells me "this is them" hehehehehe, and what? You must be the brains of the operation? What a piece of trash. Imagine how a good hit might have worked out? Imagine if you could actually sling that gods fracking gun. What a dirtbag. AND your shot was worthless."
"I'll tell you a secret though, it's a good secret too. I know a spell. A spell we call Nassik Cheen in the Underdark ... here, we'd probably call it Unerring Weapon. I can cast it on myself, but what would be the point of that, right!? Yeah no. I would cast it on one of my friends, they're angrier than I am. So if another bulet is fired, you will be dead, on the ground, and all you will have left is my laughter in your ears and my spit running down your face as you bleed out in the street. Yes ... I would stay to watch."
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Narl had his sword drawn even before Onnello fired his shot, but he holds his charge until he sees how the gunmen respond to Erryll's threat. To back the threat up, Narl growls something about being happy to try out the witch's magical Underdark weapon.
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Thraag tries to look threatening as he shakes his spiked chain to show they are armed.
The gun smuggler mumbles something in Osiriani ("was sure you..."), before fleeing so hastily that a few loose objects fall out. First and foremost was the Two items in the pockets of these is a pistol radiating with magic, flickering in the wizard-winds common to Alkenstar. Assuming you identify it, you know that it is a +1 Pistol, along with ten firearm bullets.
The second item, is a flyer for the Longhorn Lounge, a club for rodeo champions. The words “last bell before sundown” are scribbled on the back of the flyer, with a bit of singed paper as well, perhaps from alchemical expirements gone awry.
The other item is a crumpled order form for alchemical reagents. This kind of order form is fairly common among Alkenstar businesses that move a lot of inventory. This particular form doesn’t list any items, however. Rather, Gattlebee’s name and address are scrawled on it in a clumsy, almost childish hand.
As you spend time collecting these items, a slight crowd gathers before you, wondering what the commotion was. You notice multiple figures draped in the same fishmonger garb speaking in Dwarven (despite none of them being dwarves, notably) as you continue to make your way around the bridge; at roughly the same time, you can hear explosions going off.
After a few minutes, on the wood and cobblestone streets of Alkenstar, you encounter more openly hostile entities surrounding you. Two from one end, two from the others -- you're boxed in. The murmuring grows louder as you make your way into what appears to be a busy market, what do you do? Do you try to escape them, or do you decide to fight them in a busy market square (so crowded in fact, that it's extremely difficult to get your Gattlebee Wagon in)?
Before the above, sorry
As the two gunchemists, trails of fluids spilling from vials as they run break-neck pace away from everyone into the crowd. The roguish pistolero, on the other hand, still attempts to stand his ground, but his pistol is at his side is practically begging. "What do you want? I... I thought you were someone we had been hired to keep track of?"
You see the man, lowered pistol in hand, fall over unconscious as he lie there bleeding out from the two nearly point-blank gunshot wounds. A crowd begins to form around you, with some people staring directly at you (some suspiciously, some curiously).
If you wish to loot the fallen-over man, you will find a +1 Pistol and 10 firearm bullets. Two pieces of paper, however , fall out of the man's pocket as he falls (assuming you actually pick them up):
- a flyer for the Longhorn Lounge, a club for rodeo champions. The words “last bell before sundown” are scribbled on the back of the flyer, with a bit of singed paper as well, perhaps from alchemical expirements gone awry.
- The other item is a crumpled order form for alchemical reagents. This kind of order form is fairly common among Alkenstar businesses that move a lot of inventory. This particular form doesn’t list any items, however. Rather, Gattlebee’s name and address are scrawled on it in a clumsy, almost childish hand.
[/spoiler]
Regardless, looking at the face of the unconscious man, he was certainly fearful for his life. And, given the retributive response, that fear was certainly somewhat justified. The two other gunmen run away, trailing alchemical reagents that suddenly stop past a point, as if they realize they started leaking reagents.
Anyone who speaks Dwarven can hear a conversation, not really hidden, but no Dwarves are even present in the conversation:
"They let them get away because they have hats on?! Really?! Oh for Brigh's sake... Send the spellcaster's group after them, failing that get the shieldmarshals to question them, including making sure no magical disguises are used. If they're truly as wanted as Lyzerius thinks, that should do 'em in."
Regardless of the anger-laden conversation, the crowd around you gathers, some of the passerby-s hoping the gunmarshals get involved to deal with the situation rather quickly -- i.e. deal with the literal unconscious body in the middle of the bridge.
"Yeah...we should get out of here before this draws even more eyes." Thraag says as he tries to get the cart moving through the crowd and is glad that they have the hats.
"I overheard some men talking in Dwarven. They are sending spell casters or shield Marshall's. Either way they know we are disguised and we should leave quickly" Told says while trying to figure out who was speaking.[Dice=Perception]1d20+5
"Yes, absolutely, quickly ... quickly AFTER taking that gun and those bullets. Nothing says "I'm on a secret mission" like leaving behind valuables. Could we at least try to LOOK like thieves instead of murder hoeboes? Thanks."
Erryll stops to take the pistol and ammunition from the fallen non-alchemist. Waste not want not.
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As you move forward through the bridge, you notice the foot traffic seems to get denser... as well as the Dwarven (not dwarven -- though) voices getting louder and closer in the midst of the crowd. As you go through the thickening crowed -- you realize if you merely wait that the group will catch up to you.
"They entered the crowd! We're gaining on 'em! Annet! Toss it at 'em if you have to!"
Each of you has to decide how you get through the crowd -- you could try to go with the general flow using your know-how of general crowd movements, try to weave through it with acrobatic finesse brute-force your way through via shoving, or perhaps even scattering the crowd You could even let them gain on you and confront them in the crowded streets, if you so desire!
"Seriously people, get it done! Move! I sound mean, but he actually shoots people in the head. MOVE!!"
Narl pulls his hood back to allow his disfigured face to be visible in the sunlight. "Get out of the way," he growls at anyone in his path.