Ye forgot to mention the part where it eats people!
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Al wipes his brow in relief as Meera begins to show the first signs of waking. "There ye go lass," he mutters, "ye were startin' to worry me.".
Having awoke early to send his prayers to Shaundakul, Al moves over to take further efforts to assist the poisoned woman. Retrieving a variety of herbs from his healer's kit, he goes to work.
"Unless one of ye has some method of counteracting poison ye've been holdin' back, there's no more I can be doin' for the lass until tomorrow... it's up to her for now."
"Careful with that lad," Al says to the lizardman, "Ye never know what might happen if ye go tamperin' with strange magical crystals."
"Damn it!" the old man exclaims in frustration as Meera continues to slumber, "Do any of ye have any thing t'fight off poison?" Holding the holy symbol of Shaundakul tightly, he sends out another wave of healing energy on the chance it might make a difference.
Al follows the group out of the fleshy chamber, carrying Rodrigo awkwardly in his arms. Once outside, he stops to rest the badger on the ground. Pulling up his sleeves and loosening the straps on his healer's kit, he speaks to the half-troll and half-dragon, "Why don't ye lay those lasses down for a while an' I'll take a better look see."
"We can be worryin' about that when we're out o' here," Al speaks gruffly, heading over to the tear in the fleshy floor, "right now though, we should be movin'"
I'm off to a convention on Wednesday, so I probably won't be able to post from then until Monday. If the wireless access has improved since last year then I might be able to get in a few posts, but I can't guarantee it. Feel free to NPC me if necessary.
Seeing the strange thing slain, Al grasp at the holy symbol at his neck, flooding the room with positive energy. points of healing to everyone within 30'. "Grab the girls, lads" he says to Zissaren and the hulking troll-like stranger while moving to Rodrigo's side, "we should probably be gettin' out o' here."
Al nods to Arathalia gratefully as Rodrigo is pulled to safety, then frowns at Herc's failed attempt to rouse Lureene. Moving closer to the sleeping women he lets out a loud screech laced with magical energy.
One of the tentacles slams into Al's chest, causing him to cough violently while another comes down viciously against Rodrigo's head, rendering the small animal unconscious.
Al moves in a wide circle towards the moldy congregation of tendrils, while Rodrigo follows him closely, snapping at any tendrils that venture too closely. Reaching his destination, the old man waves his arm in a smooth arc and a blast of fire emanates outward.
** spoiler omitted **
"Ye can be callin' me Al," the old man says gruffly, before being interrupted by the violent movement of the chamber. "But we might be needin' to put off the introductions," he continues with a long sigh, "I'm startin to feel like we're not welcome here." Al's eyes sweep the chamber cautiously as he hefts his cane against the tendrils, his gaze eventually fixing on the mouldy tangle of intestines. "That seems to be where these things are originatin' from," he points his cane, "any of ye know what it might be?"
"Thank ye, lad." Al says gratefully to Zissaren as he pushes himself to his feet. "Well now, what have we here then?" he mutters as he walks over to the sack the others are congregate around. At the urgent sound of the voice from within, the old man hurries forward and fastens a leather pouch on his belt. Pulling out a small scalpel, he begins to make a careful incision into the 'stomach'.
The old man crouches down to whisper to Rodrigo briefly, then rights himself and hauls the badger up onto his shoulders. "Give us a hand up would ye, laddie?" he calls to the hulking lizardman.
"Are ye all alright?" Al asks, steadying himself on his cane and looking around.
"Well now," Al grumbles, "that wasn't too pleasant." Fishing out his holy symbol from beneath his shirt, he whispers a short prayer and a soothing breeze washes over the group.
Al stands his ground, holding forth his cane he speaks a short prayer to Shaundakul and a blast of swirling wind bursts outward towards the hanging creature. Rodrigo hisses viciously at the acidic ooze that coats his fur, then lashes out recklessly at the nearest pseudopod.
Al backs a little further down the tunnel, finding his footing after launching himself backwards awkwardly.
"Show some optimism!" Al speaks to the cat cheerily, "Nearly ain't so bad, I've lost count o' how many time's I've 'nearly' met my end over the years."
"Now," Al says between breaths as he hurries along, "I ain't no... authority on the... subject, but ah do reckon... that black blood... is pretty much always... a bad sign." The old man leans heavily on his walking stick as he struggles to keep up the pace, "I also reckon... tha' by followin' those black veins... we'll find ourselves... the source o' some trouble... whether it's the one... we're looking for though... I cannae say."
Al looks back at the contracting 'tunnel' and at the fleshy walls surrounding them as he continues to hurry along.
"Looks real enough to me!" Al exclaims and hastily hobbles forward, Rodrigo flitting around his legs and looking back worriedly.
"As it happens, ye blasted nuisance, me gut feelin' were right," he responds, frowning, "It'd seem that we're deep in the bowels of the city - quite literally."
"Hang on a minute," Al mutters, raising a hand, "I've got a bad feelin' about this..." The old man turns to the tightening walls of the tunnel, looking at the organic substance closely and sniffing suspiciously as he tries to discern its nature.
"That cannae be right," Al mutters, frowning at where the creature meets the water, "where the Hells could that thing o' come from in this meager flow?" The old man considers the evidence before him for a moment, then begins to walk calmly past the creature ignoring it entirely. "If I'm right abou' this, you folks may wanna follow me lead... I'm reckonin' this thing ain't all that it seems." Rodrigo looks between his friend and the watery creature worriedly, but eventually follows Al's path, growling viciously towards the creature as he moves.
Alderthane continues to hold his cane in a defensive stance whilst trying to identify the creature.
"What the blazes!?!" Al shouts as he draws back from the creature, holding out his walking stick to ward it off. Rodrigo pulls close against the old man's leg and lets out a low growl. Nightflier:
Al moves slowly along the left hand side of the tunnel, opposite Zissaren, placing his cane carefully each step to avoid slipping on the wet surface.
"As I told that damnable fairy," the old man grumbles at Leaf, "ye can call me Al!" "Well now," he answers Aehrick's question, "there's certainly some evidence to be supportin' yer theory that this place were made by wizards - the whole place is overflowin' with magical energies."
"Alright then, Cat it is." Al says, straightening out slowly and sharing a few furtive squeaks with Percival the ferret. Looking over to Leaf he arches an eyebrow, "why do ye ask? Havin' problems are ye?" Raising his hand over his eyes, he mutters a few words before lowering it and casting an intent gaze around the room.
As the cat saunters into view, a short squeak escapes from a pocket in Al's vest, followed by a quick burst of chittering as a tiny ferret emerges and climbs onto the old man's shoulder to look suspiciously towards the cat. Al looks between the two animals and clucks soothingly to the ferret, then crouches down to speak to the cat, "So, do ye be havin' a name, my feline friend?"
"Aye," Al speaks gruffly as he starts to move forwards, leaning havily on his gnarled walking stick, "there's no sense idlin' around here admirin' the architecture when there's a little girl in danger."
"Now, I've seen a sewer or two in my time," Al mutters, "and that don't look right."
"No problem me boy," he says, leaning forward to inspect the wounds more closely, "these should clear up nicely." He draws out from under his woolen vest a silver hand, its index finger outstretched and surrounded by swirls of a delicate filigree. Whispering a short prayer to the lord of the four winds, Al reaches out to lay a hand on the lizardman's injuries, which briefly glow with a faint blue light before beginning to close over.
With the help of his companions, the old man manages to scramble up the rope and into the tunnel. Rodrigo's small, dripping wet frame clutches to Al's shoulders as he ascends, before dropping down to the tunnel floor and looking around at the group with wide, innocent eyes. After a short hesitation, the badger proceeds to shake himself dry, sending a shower of river water spraying about the entryway. Once the large lizardman is inside the tunnel, Al looks him over concernedly, "Those gashes look mighty painful lad," he says, "would ye like me to be takin' care o' them?"
"Heh," the old man laughs to Aehrick, clearly not taking his question as an insult, "I imagine not laddie, but the blessin's o' Shaundakul can provide me with alternate means o' entry to the sewers. If ye can be findin' a grating near to that entrance I can be meeting ye there."
Al moves forward, looking apprehensively at the climb he begins to raise his hands to cast a spell, but lowers them at the shout from the stranger. Looking between Leaf and the man who called out, he waits patiently. The badger at his side however, darts around his ankles excitedly before rushing off to splash into the river.
"Aye, would seem yer not the only one," Al remarks. "Come on then," he says as he begins to walk in the direction of the docks, "there's no point in hanging around here - hopefully findin' our way back to this point through the tunnels should'na take too long."
"Mayhaps you're right," the old man says to the floating light, "but perhaps this is a sewer, with some means of keepin' it clean - I once visited a city tha' kept its sewers clean by the use o' gelatinous cubes. Pristine they where!"
"Now, now - hold yer horses, lass." Al spurts as Arathalia moves to apply the acid, "There's no need to be wastin' that until we're sure ye need to. Not to be mentioning whatever trouble havin' an open sewergrate is liable to be causin'." "Yon firefly is right," he says, waving his hand towards Leaf, "there must be a larger entrance hereabouts. It's just a matter of findin' it."
"Not smaller lad," Al answers Jack's comment, "But ah reckon I can get myself down there, and maybe one of the others too. Not so sure about the return journey mind you." |