Bolbo again grants Guidance to his half-elf friend.
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Unseen, Bolbo had added its tiny glare to Gristav's glower, aware in the nascent oneness with the half-elf of the mounting grief in the memory of Larur. A tiny glower from a compound eye, this had no effect. Bolbo then again added the luck of the Lady onto Gristav, crawling around his collar, out of sight of the enemy. Even before Gristav knew, Bolbo knew the man was tensing to charge...
Bolbo, either by luck or timing, avoided the swirling pots of fire to alight on Gristav's shoulder, the indetectably light weight somehow buoying the half-elf. Guidance on Gristav.
Nodding, Phil rubs his hands and prepares to move forwards "I'll ascend and make ready... give me a minute then send the dancing lights up after?" Bolbo (and his Darkvision) alight on Phillip's shoulder, offering Guidance.
Bolbo continues to scout ahead, imagining himself to be a huge as a human, or maybe a rabbit, or, OK, a butterfly. But he scouts ahead, at least until he forgets that was what he was doing.
Bolbo rushes ahead, to learn of any trouble perhaps a beat up-tempo...
Guidance on Braddon.
Bolbo flit again,
Bolbo lands among the purple of Braddon's hair, as if perhaps to conceal it's color...
Bolbo returns to Gristav's shoulder, bringing its blessing, Her blessing.
Bolbo flits over the corpse , to offer luck to the frog. Aware of it AS a frog, and of the deadly tongue, but knowing it, somehow, as an ally.
Perhaps confusing the purple hue with an iris or other wild flower, Bolboretta alights momentarily on Braddon's hair, only to take flight an instant later as the half-elf's keen senses feel the fall.
<Flutter Flip Flit Set Flap>
Bolbo flaps slowly, unperturbed, observing from the half-elf's shoulder.
Bolbo flits and flutters, landing on Gristav's left, lightening and heartening, but hardening the halfelf. "So, downstairs, Bo?", Gristav declares, a statement in form of a question, his staff inverting in a single hand's grip, evidently unready, a staff, in a single hand...
The fluttering thing flapped at Gristav's shoulder, spindly legs holding fast as the halfelf rushed forward, and the taller human came up behind... ... "You're own your own." "If only, there were a window." ...and another called calmingly from further afield. The butterfly settled, and waited, not even sure of the moment, only of the desire to help.
Instead, Gristav will shortly carve a hiding-place in a turnip, for the newest face in our crowd to shelter/hide in. |