Thanks for playing with us Inlaa, hope it all works out.
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Storhan looks around the courtyard after getting clear of the rubble, waiting for anything to jump out.
The cutpurse moves forward, giving space for those behind him to climb in. When the rubble pile collapses, Storhan cringes, and doesn't unclench until the clattering stops. Wipan attempts to decipher the runes around the portal from a distance.
Wipan Storhan Wipan considers the rocks for a moment and shrugs. 'Engineering was never my strong suit' He steps back, hoping someone else will figure a way over. Storhan steps up and almost immediately sees a steady path. 'Follow me, use the stones I do' Storhan carefully picks his way up the rubble, giving time for those behind him to see which stones he's using.
Storhan waits by the portcullis for the first member of the party to appear in the courtyard. Wipan begins to grow anxious after the last person rounds the corner. 'I don't know about you, but I'm feeling awful...' the young scribe looks about the front of the keep. 'Exposed? Yeah, I suppose so. Better to get caught alone, together, than alone, alone.' Storhan sets off carefully along the edge after the group, Wipan following close behind, pressed against the outer wall. When they reach the collapsed portion the pair fall in helping others up and then climbing the wall themselves.
Wipan watches the Candy and Mucks braving the narrow ledge around the keep. 'I'm not sure that's such a good idea, after what happened to Garwen.' he mutters low to himself. Storhan stands near the entrance to the courtyard and keeps an eye near the Western side where the light shines in. He shifts his focus between the interior courtyard and the rest of the group to watch their reactions as a way to judge the progress of the pair.
Storhan and Wipan follow the pair into the courtyard.
As Garwen begins to lose his hold on the wall the grin quickly fades from Storhan's face. 'No...' he manages to groan out before Garwen comes to an end on the ground in front of the group 'It's just like the story...' Wipan falls silent hearing Garwen contact the ground. Both sheepishly stand ready near the grieving group.
Storhan watches Garwen struggling to attempt to scale the wall. While not openly laughing at the other man, he grins from ear to ear. Wipan stands back, slowly collecting himself. 'It wasn't that bad, I've survived my first encounter with a strange creature AND crossed a yawning chasm. It's just like in the story books. It's just like in the story books.' The young, frail man continues to repeat his mantra quietly to himself.
Seeing the previous 4 make it safely across Storhan shrugs and carefully crosses the planks. Wipan shakes his head at the cut-purse's bravado and carefully ties the rope around his waist before gingerly making his way across the moat, cringing at every groan and sag of the wood. Once across he shakily unties himself and attempts some deep breathing exercises to steady himself. 'Sometimes... I... just... get.. a little... worked up.' Wipan exhales between gulps of air.
Storhan shrugs and steps aside, gesturing to allow Mucks on across 'After you, my good sir.'
Wipan walks slowly up to the edge of the ditch and looks over the side. The young man considers the depth and the difficulty of climbing down into and then out of the ditch should his companion's plan fail. He then looks to the rotten plank dubiously. 'I have a bad feeling about this' I wish I could have just stayed home, with the library, and the fireplace. Storhan tests one of the rotten boards with a foot, placing light pressure on in and increasing unless the board begins to splinter.
'If she doesn't want to risk it, I'll give it a go. What's the worst that could happen?'
I just like dumb farmer types and don't get to play them enough. I got the brainy mage down and that's Wipan's path. Yeah, he got great rolls. He'll be an asset.
That's kind of a shame, Bekore was the one I was probably looking forward to playing the most. Wipan has a lot of potential.
Storhan kneels over Bekore's body and gathers his belongings. He pockets the coin and hands everything else to Wipan. As he passes the boy the sack and chicken he leans in and speaks low to the boy. Sell the chicken and give the money to the man's family' Wipan accepts the bird and quickly stuffs it into the sack. The bird squawks for a minute before settling to it's fate. The boy sniffles quietly. 'Sorry Bekore, I hope your family doesn't starve.' Storhan sets to helping gather material for torches.
As the whip-like vines strike Bekore, the hearty-seeming man appears to fold under the mediocre onslaught. The farmer's life blood begins to pour from the welts on his face. 'Oh no, Mr. Bekore! Can anyone perform first aid?!?!' Wipan stirs himself into a near panic. Storhan retrieves his dagger and Wipan's dart from the now re-corpsed corpse. He watches the fallen farmer's slowly dying body with mild interest.
Wipan flings the dart he was carrying at the shambling creature. 'Back! Back! This doesn't seem to be any kind of beast-man'
Bekore continues to move forward at a leisurely pace. He eyes the creature up and down before bringing his spear around and thrusting it toward the creature
Storhan flips his dagger over and deftly catches it by the blade before throwing it at the creature.
Wipan watches the experimentation on the bodies with academic curiosity. Bekore eyes the vines warily 'Ain't never seen no vines like them before.' Storhan hangs back and grips his dagger a little more tightly.
'Maybe it's left over from the last time they were here? It does look pretty torn up. Maybe the beast-men can't reach it?' Wipan counters.
Wipan hangs back slightly but makes sure he's not stuck unprotected at the rear. 'Beastmen raising the dead? I suppose it's not impossible, but I find it highly unlikely.' The boy tries to sound confident but grips his dart tightly and his eyes dart about in a near panic. Bekore strolls along chewing a blade of grass with his pitchfork resting against his shoulder, appearing to be going about another day in the fields. 'Someone ain't been doing their chores' Bekore tuts to himself, eying the state of the keep. Storhan remains quiet but falls in behind Rosco and Garwyn. He draws his dagger but carries it down at his side at purse cutting height.
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