Brok stared into the face of madness and it was dwarven.
There was only one thing to do.
Blend in.
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON. I AM YELLING."
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Brok took an unconscious step backward. "Uh, sure, yeah. Say... you could use some serious 'leaf, bud." The druid was suddenly very glad he was not born small and reptilian.
Rufus saw a kobold charging at him. He knew what he had to do. He returned the favor.
Brok hastily stashed his sling at his side and grabbed his staff, moving to the opposite end of the little stone causeway and bracing for impact. "You are not allowed to move past this point! Or something not-so-subtly hinting at a specific moment beyond the quasi-dimensional rift in spacetime and occurring concurrently with this moment in at least four other parallel universes!"
"Uh, sorry... You're looking a little bruised, though, Parkour..." Brok grabbed his sling and tried again, this time aiming a little higher.
Meanwhile, Rufus ran his little legs across the room, joining Panros near the center...
While Rufus scurried his blood-soaked way back to Brok, the slightly mad druid loaded another bullet and fired.
Furious that his target still stood, Rufus bared his teeth and assaulted the creature with all of his might, trying to tear through the kobold's scales with every fiber of his being. And over the roar of a tiny badger's anger, Brok loaded another bullet and sent it flying.
Rufus attempts to finish off his remaining kobold, while Brok loads another bullet and sends it flying - panic rising in the back of the usually-calm druid's mind as he sees Panros take hit, after hit, after hit. Usually it was Brok who was taking the hits. Of flayleaf.
With only one kobold still standing before him, Rufus leaped at its face, claws slashing through the air.
Seeing that Rufus had his ledge well in hand, Brok turned his attention to the kobold that had 'jumped' down and readied its spear. Swinging his sling, he launched a rock at its head.
With a pair of kobolds before him with spears, Rufus bares his teeth and leaps at the closest one, a flurry of claw leading his charge.
Afraid to hit his little buddy, and fairly certain that the mad badger would prefer to finish his opponents on his own, Brok turned his attention towards the northernmost platform - and launched another rock towards the slingers.
As Rufus scampered up the last bit of rock wall, he found himself face to face with a trio of kobolds. Teeth bared, he immediately tried to sink his teeth into the nearest one. Brok, meanwhile, grabbed another sling bullet and send it flying across the room, aimed at the same set of kobolds.
Grabbing his own sling, Brok loaded a bullet into the pouch and began to swing, aiming for the northernmost of the ledges. Rufus, ever anxious to feast on the flesh of kobolds, leapt from Brok's shoulder and scurried to climb up the western ledge.
With a shrug, Brok simply said, "Your loss."
After a moment, the druid nods. He takes out a bit of flayleaf, and prepares his pipe. "I suppose so..." He inhaled deeply, and Rufus scrambled up to his shoulder to inhale a few of the rogue vapors. "Though I can't help but imagine they'd be a lot less murderous if they'd just had some 'leaf. It's all those caves, Parglo. You're just as angry as them! Gotta get some sun, some trees, and some 'leaf."
The druid shrugged. Sela didn't seem particularly interested in listening. She reminded Brok of a half-rabid senile bobcat that had gotten lost and found itself in the Verduran forest. "Sounds good, I guess," he mumbled. "There has to be a better way than killing all the little lizard-guys, though. They're mean little buggers, sure- but killing all of them seems... rude? Maybe they just wanted some 'leaf, man."
Brok checks the bodies for keys and flayleaf. Rufus nibbles on one of the kobold's bloody bits, then decides uncooked reptilian humanoids are not his cup of tea.
Trying not to laugh at the clumsy dwarven hands attempting to heal the man he'd just shot, Brok shoves Panros out of the way. "Hi! I'm Brok and I'm going to be trying to save you now. I'm afraid I have no way to dull the pain, so this is going to hurt a lot!"
As the slinger kobold's reptilian face clearly droops into a panicked grimace, Brok charged the little lizard man, screaming a battle cry. The kobold screamed back.
Brok watches as Panros hoists another bomb and lobs it across the room. Ducking beneath the attack, the druid swung his quarterstaff low and into the kobold's chest.
The druid follows his rather temperamental companion down the stone staircase, and finds himself in what appears to be a prison! "Whoa, they have people here! That's not nice at all!" Rufus gave something of a sigh, then rushed ahead of Brok to engage the nearest kobold. The man gripped his staff and chased after his pet. "Wait up!"
Taking cover in the wake of Panros's explosion, Brok lifts his weapon as high as the low ceiling will allow, and bonks at whichever rats are still moving. Rufus, absorbed in a battle-frenzy, tears into the nearest rat with tooth and claw. "Got the munchies, little buddy?" the druid jokes, kicking at the rats.
Brok gripped his weapon, jumping in front of Panros to protect the dwarf from... something. He heft his stick high, bumped it against the ceiling, and then hefted it low. With a strange stance, he readied his staff for any attack from the creatures before them. Rufus joined him, scampering up onto his companion's shoulder and readying himself to pounce upon any who approached!
As the slinger ducked his head and disappeared into the cave entrance, Brok turned to intercept the spear-wielding fellow that had been prodding at Panros.
Rufus moved to scurry after the fleeing kobold, but saw him fall before Panros's mighty crossbow quarrel. He turned, heading back to his master's side as Brok lay the full force of his quarterstaff upon the creature before him.
With the kobold before them falling without much of a fight, Brok gave something of a shrug at his animal friend. Rufus returned the gesture with his tiny badger arms, and then the two split. While Brok ran further up the beach, headed for one of the slingers, Rufus set his sights on the panicked kobold with a newly affixed bolt.
Gripping his staff, Brok charged at the nearest of the slingers, his weapon held high over his head. He gave something of a battle cry - startling himself more than anyone else - and smashed with all of his might.
Rufus followed along behind Brok, his teeth bared and ready to gnaw off some annoying kobold's leg!
The druid shrugged. Half the time he ate the fish raw, and his stomach never seemed to mind. "Sure. Cooking. Right." Fishing rod in hand, he trudged along the cliffside ledge as it sloped its way towards the shoreline.
The druid shrugged. He was just glad to feel the sun's warmth again, though the dwarf was apparently having a time of it. They'd hardly even walked a mile, or half of that! A mined-out tunnel, an old ruin falling down. None of it seemed as mysterious as Pardrios made it sound. Still... He reached into his pack and pulled out an old wooden tube. With a few snaps, the wooden tool extended and a thin line of wire dangled from its tip, with a glistening steel hook on its end. "Wonder if there's any good fish in there?"
"Thinking. Yes." Anything to avoid delving in the cramped dark tunnels any longer. Stupid dwarves.
"Plenty... The half-elven man sighed and looked to Rufus, who was lounging atop a pile of copper coins. "Shouldn't we move all this treasure somewhere safe first? Surely the tunnel will... wait."
Brok rolled over and rifled through his pack. He pulled out a shining dagger with a jagged, serrated edge. "You mean these things? Apparently the crazy girl left them behind when she ran out. I picked 'em up when you were busy touching doors or something. Figured I could sell 'em for more 'leaf."
"Sure... I guess. The druid was not looking forward to delving once more into darkness. Handling the kobolds, looting a vault... it was all well and good until you realized how little sunlight there was down there. And how much you missed it when you finally saw her glory riding up there in the sky again. Not bothering to stand, he continued. "Did you figure out to open that stupid vault yet?"
The half-elf called after his companion as the dwarf eagerly bound for the door. "But it is... noon. He's gone." Brok looked at Rufus, who had buried his snout in his paws. "I know bud. I know. We best get a move on before he realizes what happened." With a sigh and another puff, Brok stood and packed away his pipe, headed for the ruins of the tower.
"Sure thing, Anropos. I'll be right here, waiting. I think." Brok took a slow drag from the pipe, letting the aroma of flayleaf tickle his senses. The room's color seemed to pop out of him, the natural world making itself known even in the mundane environs of a humble inn. "I hope we'll see the sun today... So tired of the dark."
The druid shrugged as he took another puff upon his pipe, making sure to let some of the fumes brush past Rufus as he did so. "Dead's dead, Palio. Whether you tell them or not, he's not coming back. He's returning to the earth now. Like we all will, eventually." Brok paused, considering his words. "But not today, I hope."
"Kay. Try not to break anything. Like yourself. Again." Brok turned towards the south, peering off down the road and across the Belhaim bridge. He had a farmer to see about some flayleaf. And Enrie would certainly be glad to get paid. Finally.
Brok shrugged and left the temple. The House of Abadar really didn't agree with him - it felt too shiny. Rufus yawned upon Brok's shoulder. The half-elf couldn't help but agree. "Healing or not, I'm beat. I could use a good long nap, then maybe we can figure out that ol' vault. Though I doubt it had any 'leaf in it, so it's sort of pointless..."
The half-elven part of Brok winced as the dwarf laid his heavy hand upon his shoulder. "Oww..." Shaking off the alchemist's grip, he hobbled his broken self further into the overly flamboyant temple and took a seat on one of the upholstered chairs, once again staining it with dirt. He gave a wide eyed grin to the less-than-pleased Prelate. "I don't suppose you have any flayleaf here?"
Brok smiled. "He seems... nice? I think? He uses a lot of words. Too many words."
"Now please." Brok's eyes were wide with fields of golden flayleaf. He'd finally be able to pay off farmer Monette and fill his snuffbox back up. And maybe buy a few trinkets. And maybe a new hat. He could use a hat! He'd always wanted a hat! "Yes now is good I think very good." He held out his hand anxiously.
"Oooooooohh!" Brok tilted his head, as though recalling all of Doalgari's antics. "Doesn't really ring a bell, though."
Brok had settled himself back into the chair, his blood soaking its beautiful fabric, and taking deep breaths. He was glad his moment of spotlight before the Baroness was over before he really started to panic. He noticed the dwarf whispering to him. He leaned over, then whispered back. "Who's Doalgari?"
Brok jolted at the mention of his name. He'd been imagining smoking a big pipe of flayleaf in a wide open field. It was glorious, and nearly as intoxicating as the real thing. He opened his mouth to speak, but lacked words. The man shot a glance to Rufus, who returned a shrug. He jumped to his feet, gave a salute (Taldan nobles did that, right?) and then bumbled out words as best he could. "My, um, Lady? I think Panros Gorgologio Loremen is very very correct with whatever he just said. He knows many things about many things that I don't care- er, know about. All I know is that there were lots of little lizard guys and they stabbed me and now it hurts a lot. I think all of my blood is still in the basement of the tower. I would sincerely appreciate a good night's rest, a good cleric's healing, and an oversized sack of flayleaf." He plopped himself back into his chair with a heavy breath of relief. "That's all!"
Brok paced around the room, poking and prodding various things despite the requests of the butler. Brok never trusted a man in a suit anyway. "Hmm... a smoking lounge... As good as that sounds," he plopped himself down in one of the chairs, getting comfortable as he felt for his snuffbox, "I prefer the open air. This place has really bad feng shui, if you catch my drift." He watched the dwarf for a moment. "Actually, I'm not sure I catch my own drift. Nevermind."
"I'm good." The half-elf winced with pain. "Well, no, not really. Some help would be great! And some flayleaf. Um, if the Lady has any. She can share."
The half-elf's expression shifted in an instant. "Yes, yes, Probos. I agree completely. We should definitely head to the surface! Without even waiting for the dwarf's response, Brok charged ahead, glad to be out of the tunnels as quickly as possible.
Brok stole a glance at Rufus when the dwarf was distracted. Genius? Is that what he's calling it? I do not know, Brok. The short and fat one is a bit of an arrogant twit, if you ask me. The half-elf nodded profusely, accidentally attracting the attention of Panros. He gave a wide grin, despite the aches and pains in his side. "Must we really drag on through the dirt?"
Brok's reply was more of a grunt than anything else. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet and then grabbed one of the shovels from the two crushed kobolds. He brought it over to Panros, then held it just a few inches out of the dwarf's reach. A slow grin crossed over his face as he watched the dwarf stretch for it. "Who knew Panoramic had such a deep past!" He reached over and ruffled the dwarf's hair. "Such a cute dwarfy!" Smug grin solidified, Brok shoved the spade forward and into the gruff - and now angry - dwarven hands. "Let me know when you're done there. I'm going to take a bit of a nap..." Brok lowered himself back down, back to the pile of rubble, and closed his eyes for a bit of rest.
Brok plopped himself down on the cavern floor. His muscles ached. Rufus sat down in his lap, nuzzling up and closing his eyes. He, too, was ready for a nap. A long one. "Bleh. You're a dwarf, aren't they good at digging?" He looked around the room, now coated in blood. His, Rufus's, the kobolds'. Some was probably Panros's too, he supposed. But most of that was really probably just stuck on the dwarf.
Riding his moment of war-forged clarity, Brok knelt down and checked the pockets of the kobold ranger. As he'd hoped, he found another of the vials she'd just used. Two, in fact! He rushed over to Panros, who was slumped in the dirt and covered with both his blood and the spurting blood of the kobolds that Rufus had torn open. Pushing the dwarf onto his back - still half-buried - he dumped the contents of the potion down the dwarf's throat. It was only after it had left the contained and entered the dwarf's mouth that it occurred to Brok that he should have tested it first. Just to make sure it wasn't pure alcohol, or lantern oil, or concentrated poison. Oh well.
The fury of a badger is not one to be trifled with. As the last of his animal fury began to fade, Rufus struck out for his final rampage.
Brok, meanwhile, tried to finally get in a blow that would count - and end the fight.
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