Our laggard GM must be flogging thoroughly for this inexcusable failure! Quickly, to our sewer hideout where we will plan our vengeance!
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Discounted pickled herring? Wow, that's really cheap of you. So cheap, in fact, that it actually would have been better for you to just go with nothing at all.
Happy easter! Or happy holidays! Or at worst, hopefully, happy discounted eggs next week :p I'm holding out for discounted themed candy. Like jelly beans. I love jelly beans.
One eye on what the rest of the party is doing, Boros answers the question. "Aye, good points, those. I suppose fish aren't too noted for their eyesight, so you poppin' up and gettin' a look at the shore for one o' us probably wouldn't work out too well."
Sorry about the death, it seems that your new year has been a steady set of kicks to the groin so far :(.
Well, I really hope that whatever's wrong is something temporary and easily mended!
Aye aye. It's not a great sign. Their steam account is offline too and their The Realm of the Fairy, which I'm guessing is either their close friends of family, has a vaguely ominous header message :/ Wow, that's kind of bleak. I hope like f$*~ that's only a song quote or something.
I noticed that as well, which actually makes the lengthy silence more worrisome, not less. Because he'd usually pop in on the social side of Steam at least a few times while playing.
Okay, getting a bit more worried about our errant GM. This kind of silence is unusual for him.
Aye. Or on vacation :p He has, IIRC, 4 sprogs who range in ages from "cry all night" to "ball of mischief." He doesn't get vacations anymore :D.
Seems like our fearless GM is getting run down by life after the holidays, since his last Steam active date was 8 days ago.
Have nothing useful to add at this moment - just remembered there being something with an elemental somewhere. But I'll get back to it later :) Hmmm, good point, that. It wouldn't bother an ordinary sea animal, but any animal towing a net loaded with armor probably wouldn't count as "ordinary" by any stretch. Probably have to do what that old fellow did and offer a little something up as a "hey, go look over way there really intently for, like, 15 minutes" bribe.
"Bugger, then so much for that idea. While it's true enough that he couldn't wear it out and about, having kit he's familiar and comfortable with in a fight is pretty important, never mind how it would make him the best-armored o' our little group besides," Boros explains with a frown as he considers the heavy armor. However, something that Phyllis says sparks a further idea and he eagerly pursues it. "Sufficient size, you say? Would somethin' like one o' those air-breathin' fish, a 'delphin' or whatever it is they're called, be something you could manage? Because I saw I few o' those while crossin' the Inner Sea on my way here, and sailors told me stories about men gone overboard bein' pulled to shore by them. So if we could get together a bit o' net to hold the armor and a harness or somethin'," he concludes with hopefully questioning look at the woman.
Not terribly inclined to sneakiness, Boros waits with the rest of the party and tries not to fret about what could wrong at this point. It's a bit boring, but it does give him time to think over the matter of the stashed armor that the Lector had shed. After a bit of consideration, he approaches the old woman and quietly addresses her. "You know, I'm more than a bit ashamed to admit this, but I don't ever recall askin' your name back at the shrine, or your husband's either. Guess that dragon was a powerful bit of distraction as far as manners go." After a bit of a pause on his part to gather his thoughts, the soldier continues. "Anyway, I've got a bit o' an idea about that armor and how to get it into the city. Specifically, that bird form o' yours, can do you wear anythin' more than clothes while takin' it?"
Boros offers little in the way of suggestions. The trek out and back, the latter under the threat of a dragon, has thoroughly sapped him and he just wants the comfort of the group's little hidey-hole. So with the final stretch, he's ready to do whatever is necessary to pass the gate with no trouble, even if that means temporarily shedding his rather obvious gear. Addressing the subject of the recent trip, he does try to reassure the man. "Trust me, I know it's not comfortin' to be stripped o' your kit like this, but it might not be necessary. And if it is, we can probably work out a way to get it inside separately."
Then we'll sit down and consider our options, Boros+Miranda. Hey, I've stuck around this long and I'd like to maybe reach book 3 of this AP at some point this decade :D. So you can just go ahead and put me down for "find more warm bodies that don't mind a really slow game" as my option.
Our poor GM must be getting his ass kicked by life something awful right now :p.
Awww, bummer.
*knockknockknock* Anyone home?
Watching the man get his brains soaked with mushroom juice has Boros shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, whatever, long as it keeps him quiet and amused," he eventually says with an aggravated grunt before looking to see if Varuzhan is ready and able after his unplanned nap. When it comes to the matter of how to pass the time, Boros visibly hesitates--he really does want to see if there are some good books in that library--but eventually decides it's just better to stay down in the basement, get some rest, and keep a watchful eye on their "host" in case the mushroom tea hasn't quite left him as impaired as it seems.
"No, no tea for me," Boros says with an annoyed expression, staying well back from the man and his concoctions. He's well aware of just what sort of trouble even a half-competent alchemist can manage, and is keeping a very careful eye on everything going on.
Seeing Varuzhan out cold on the floor, Boros doesn't respond much to the man's obvious displeasure beyond a dismissive grunt. He's more concerned with how long the strix is going to be in that condition, and says as much. "Yeah, yeah, we've inconvenienced you, poor you, life's hard and so on. How long is he goin' to be out like that, and is he goin' to have any problems from whatever it was when he wakes up?"
"Yes, fine, let's just get on with this," the soldier grumbles with a roll of his eyes as he divests the prisoner of the aforementioned pouch. He's rather disgusted by how readily Nezari seems to have responded to the man's attempts to find a friend among them, and can only hope that Miranda and Varuzhan prove more resistant and suspicious. After all, it's not paranoia because people really are out to get them, and Boros has to keep that firmly in mind as long as they're outside the city with that dragon.
"Well, obviously we'll have someone standin' watch," the soldier replies to Nezari. "But we've also no way o' knowin' what kind o' magic he's got in that head o' his. Maybe somethin' that'll have us all driftin' off to sleep. But if he's trussed up like a market piggy, that's less chance for him to do anythin'." Stepping well back, he gestures down the hallway with the mace, clearly intending for the ghost to get moving in the indicated direction. "And tyin' some noisemakers to him ain't a bad idea either, provided we can find some."
The soldier points a warning finger at the "ghost" while speaking. "You don't get a say in the matter, so hush." Turning his attention to Nezari, he continues. "Well, we'll see what the others have to say before we do anythin' he can't walk away from. Will that settle your worries?"
Keeping his eyes firmly on the still-nameless ghost, Boros addresses Nezari's question. "As long as he's quiet and doesn't try gettin' loose, I'm perfectly fine with leavin' him alive when we're done here. No doubt feelin' sorely put upon by us, but alive to complain nonetheless. But right now, we need a place to rest up and we're really not in a place to just trust that he won't lead trouble right us that we don't need."
Snorting in amusement at the run-on confession, Boros pulls the mace back so that it's not an immediate threat to the babbling "ghost," but it's definitely ready for any shenanigans that might be attempted. "Right, so you're just a squatter and opportunistic pervert. Well, I got good news and I got bad news for you. The good news is, you won't have to worry about any o' us pissin' on your books or whatnot. But that's where the bad news comes in, because we're stayin' over for a bit, and you'll be tied up in a corner to make sure you don't go runnin' off." The soldier's amused expression then drops and is replaced with a flat glare. "And if that's not to your likin', then we go straight to knockin' you over the head until the twitchin' stops. Which is also what'll happen if you decide to slip your ropes and run."
No, we don't tell him a single thing about us. Not the dragon, nothing. Because it's too easy for him to slip off and scurry up the road to tell the guards all about those terrible people in the old ruin that are talking about a dragon chasing them.
Regaining control over his body, the soldier hefts the mace and steps up alongside Nezari and her grappled target. "Don't owe you any sort o' explanation about us or our business," the soldier says while pressing the mace's head firmly into the side of the "ghost's" face. "In fact, the more you know about either subject, the more inclined I am to do my part in makin' you into a real ghost hauntin' this place." And he's dead serious about that. While not the sort to kill out of hand, Boros also knows that a potential source of the party's location and activities, wandering loose and with unknown loyalties, is a significant risk.
If Boros could speak, he would be yelling at Nezari to focus and not get distracted by this liar. Of course, if he could speak, then he could also move. And the ghost would find himself on the receiving end of a thorough beating, courtesy of one tired, aggravated, and thoroughly-done-with-all-of-this-shit-today soldier.
The soldier can tell that the suspiciously solid "ghost" is lying, but has little way to communicate that knowledge in his current state.
Feeling his body become unresponsive, the soldier can only hope that someone else is capable of handling things before whatever this ghost is does worse.
If we end up needing up the Ghostbusters for this one, I'm going to very put out :D.
Once the ghost starts moving closer, Boros takes a moment to silently hope that Miranda is right about her analysis of what the ghost actually is, otherwise he's reasonably certain that he's about to get thoroughly f&#@ed, and not in the fun way either. Giving his weapons a considering look, the soldier then raises the cold iron bludgeon in preparation. "Yeah, and unless you got a deed tucked away somewhere that says you're the owner o' this dump, you're just offerin' an opinion on the matter, not somethin' the rest o' us actually have to give heed to."
Taking the instructions given by Miranda, Boros speaks up to (hopefully) conceal and distract from her effort at sneaking along. "You got some ghostly shit in those ears? Because I distinctly recall tellin' you to get f!!%ed. I aim to get some sleep today, good sleep, and I aim to do it here. You don't like that, you're free to hoist up whatever's left o' your balls and come over here and do somethin' about it. Otherwise, go haunt a rat or somethin'.
Catching Miranda's quiet words, Boros looks briefly over his shoulder at her, then switches his gaze to the "ghost" at the hall's end. Keeping his voice down, he asks what he thinks is a very important question. "Can a spell like that be sent on its way without the caster bein' close by to tend it? Like, say, out o' sight around that corner there?"
Boros is more than a bit interested in the library's contents--he's not the usual meathead one might otherwise expect in light of his highly physical career and boorish personality--but the need to clear the mansion for a safe stay overrides his urge to go book diving. Still, the soldier has a definitely expectant air to his search of the rooms after the library, and it's quite clear how he intends to spend his time waiting here. The sudden light and the subsequent scream which indicate that his plans have quite likely been thoroughly disrupted draws a stream of utterly foul cursing in all four of the languages that Boros is fluent in, and the combination of fatigue, stress, and pique draw a rather unexpected reaction from him in response. Pointing his rapier at the lights, he yells down the corridor at them. "No, absolutely not, you shut that shit up right now. You hear me? I'm not havin' it, not today. You take your little lights there, shove 'em up your ass if you have one, and get f&&!ed right back to whatever hole you crawled out of!"
Well, for myself, I'm minded to do a full but cursory check. That is, every room, but only a quick look (including behind the doors and inside any closets :p) in each room. Oh, and no splitting up and wandering off in ones or twos :D. We either move as a full group, or we split into no more than two groups and move that way.
"Well, looks sounds enough so far," Boros offers after a lingering look at one of the holes in the wall. "So barrin' somethin' that I can't see, we shouldn't have to worry about this place comin' down, or one o' us goin' through the floor." With powder currently at a premium following his ad-hoc explosive device, the soldier readies his rapier and mace in case of trouble. "Probably be a good idea to take a look around before we settle in, make sure we're not sharin' space with someone or somethin' minded to bother us while we sleep."
The soldier gets the mushrooms down with only a slight twist of his lips to betray his opinion of their taste and texture. Still, it keeps him going and that's what matters. It also leaves his wits sharp enough to respond to Varuzhan's casual dismissal of the mansion's potential dangers. "All too often, those old stories have an unpleasant core o' truth to them," he points out. "Best we assume that's the case here and not go in fat, dumb, and happy expectin' otherwise. That said, the mansion's the least likely place for us to run into anyone who might take undue interest in our business, so that's my choice as well."
I mean, mudpits that suck you down to drown after exhausting you trying to escape them are a thing, and I'm pretty sure that does constitute a sort of trap. So spotting mud patches that look dodgy or "off" in some way could be covered.
If Grit/Profession helps:
It's hard going, but Boros has experienced wearying slogs before and managed to survive. He knows a bunch of little tricks to keep himself upright and going one more step while (barely) avoiding the physical toll, and he uses them all. If Grit/Profession doesn't help: It's hard going, and Boros' prior experience with wearying slogs doesn't help as much as he'd hoped it would. He manages to keep from falling out entirely, but it's clear that he's not in top shape as the night draws to a close.
Ouch. That's really the one word I can come up with for that horror story. Also, I don't know if you have it in Europe (or your specific part of it), but Gatorade is my go-to when I'm diseased and needing something more than mere water to fill my mouth. Seriously, that stuff just seems to do exactly what I need when my mouth feels gummed up, my throat's on fire, and I'm generally feeling like a bag of hammered shit.
Eh, I suppose I can forgive you. I mean, it's not like I can reach through the screen and apply a morale enhancement beating or anything :D.
On the verge of flipping the table in frustration, Boros is stopped by Nezari who calmly proceeds to do what he couldn't, leaving the soldier slack-jawed in surprise.
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