Cage looks at the winch and scratches his head.
"Maybe...like this?"
It's probably pure chance, but he manages to start hoisting the basket.
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Taking Anabel's suggestion, Cage carefully opens the next door, peaking over his shield at what lies inside.
Cage grabs the banjo and slings it over his back. "We can examine it later. Let's see if we can still get the drop on any of the druids." He'll head toward the north door, unless someone stops him.
Cage leads the way into the room, cautiously stepping in between the benches.
"The welcoming party is going to be on the way!" Cage keeps his shield up and follows the druid, trying to finish it off.
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AoO: for
Cage raises his shield and rushes into the room, swinging on the more injured druid.
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Cage nods, and heads up the stairs, peaking over the top of his shield.
Cage takes a moment to gaze in wonder at the stone arches, then shakes himself, hefts his shield, and sets off after Anabel.
Cage raises his shield and rushes in to defend his companions, circling the screaming woman. He tries to knock her in the back with his hammer. for
"Step behind me, I'll check it out!" Cage raises his shield, cautiously, and advances toward the line.
Cage draws his hammer and shield, then swings at the cat that attacked him, trying to recognize the strange creature in the meantime.
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"Well, he doesn't sound very reasonable, but all we have to go on is Lemma's description. I don't think she's exactly an unbiased party." Cage considers what he knows of the Oakstewards, which is not much. "If he really is committed to destroying civilization, we'll probably have to take him down. If he's reasonable, maybe we can just get him to return the key."
Cage spends most of the day feeling like his skin is too tight. A tingling between his shoulder blades suggests that he's being watched, but he can't see a thing in the drenching rain.
"If you don't mind telling us, what were the arguments that were swaying his followers? We might be able to talk sense into some of them if we know why they joined him." Cage optimistically plans on talking his way through the rebel camp, evidently.
"A pleasure to meet you. We're looking for a rogue Oaksteward named Bolan. Fianara said that he's been causing trouble for you, and we think he might have some information that we need." Cage sits up staight in his chair. "Could you tell us what you know about him?"
Cage casts an embarrassed look at his bag--tomes bulge from the top--when Lyra mentions reading "all of the books", but he nods along at her explanation. "I'm not sure what would work for me, but I hope I can do something amazing, someday." The young man leans back with his hands laced behind his head and stares off into the distance, mind lost in thought.
Cage sheepishly approaches Lyra as things are winding down for the day, "Is there some trick to moving things with your mind? Sometimes I feel like I could manage it. I spent a whole Toilday staring at nails in the smithy once, but all I accomplished was giving myself a headache."
"That's a swell idea!" Cage answers enthusiastically. "You move things with magic? I wish I knew how to do things like that. It would sure make things easier around the smithy."
Cage is really stumped on this one, but he's throwing ideas out there: "...or, what if we released 20 squirrels into the area, then one of us turns into a squirrel and dragged the rod through the arches?" "...or, we could put on a puppet show to entertain the guards, and Cootn can be a 'runaway puppet' that gets up to highjinx. It's all part of the show, folks!" "...or, we could start a fire! Um, just as small one. As a distraction." "...people seem really mad about the alarm. Maybe if we arrange to set it off a lot in one day, an unruly mob will form and distract the guards." You get the feeling that Cage has read a lot of books that feature such shenanigans.
"Good idea. Maybe there are workers that clean or maintain the arches. We could slip in with them, or at least learn enough to make up a convincing cover story." Cage tries to think through a non-linear approach.
"What, over here?" Cage blunders purposely into the security rope, hoping to add to the confusion.
"Anyone up for creating a distraction?" Cage tries to point discreetly at the podium. "And maybe someone more...unobtrusive should try to sneak this through the arches."
"Gorgas? I think I've read about them. Let me see..." Cage wracks his brain. The bookseller had a couple tattered volumes that mentioned fey, but did they include gorgas?
"Huh?! Oh, uh!" Cage tries to adjust the placement of the detector, becoming increasingly flustered as each arrangement is somehow more suggestive than the last.
Cage blushes at the attention. "Umm. We'd be happy to investigate. Doesn't sound too complicated."
Cage tucks the aura reader into his belt next to his smith's hammer. "There. That's not too obvious, right?"
As has become his habit, Cage positions himself on the windward side of Cotton, hoping to shield the poppet from any strong buffets of wind and to keep the worst of the rain off of her. "Are any of the arches here still active? Maybe we can use one to travel to our, uh, moment." Cage shrugs, still a bit tongue-tied about what drew him through the woods to the underground portal months ago.
Here's my submission: Narrative Backstory:
Cage didn’t hurry out the door. He knew he’d reach the smithy on time. After all, it was only 341 steps to get there, and the chance of interruptions at this hour was vanishingly small. So, he hoisted his pack as usual and ambled out the door. The pack settled against his back with a familiar weight. The two small loaves of his father’s bread, wedge of hard cheese, and apple from the backyard orchard would be delicious after pumping the bellows all morning. As delicious as they were yesterday and the day before. And last week. While his daily walk certainly hadn’t worn a rut in the streets of Halvan, it was easy for Cage to imagine that it had. It wasn’t that nothing ever happened in town: The weekly market on Fireday, bowls with his friends Starday afternoon, and the harvest festival every Lamashan. It was all just so...regular. Everyone seemed to like the predictability, even his friend Carliss, who always told him that “The Pack follows The Wagon,” whenever he complained to her about the town’s sleepy schedule. Cage felt lucky to have a job with Smith Jutz, and the work had certainly bulked him up and improved his bowls game, but even making axes, sharpening saws, and piecing together the occasional chain shirt was pretty tedious. Walking past the Wander Inn, the young smith wondered if there were any travelers bedded down in its drafty rooms. The best groups brought stories of their exploits in the Boarwood or out around the Fog Peaks, but Cage always had to pick up the tales secondhand. His mother didn’t approve of him consorting with adventurers, and said she had her fill of “ruffians, tale-tellers, and Pathfinders'' during her time in the Sleepless Suns (long ago and far away). The most he could hope for was to borrow any rare tomes they had sold to the town bookseller and to grill the man about any juicy details of their adventures. Cage heaved a melodramatic sigh as he arrived at the workshop on the edge of town, unlocked the heavy door, pushed his way inside, and set his bag down on the end of a bench. He tied his hair up in its topknot with a frown and went to start his daily routine by stirring up the forge. While he didn’t want his life to be an Ailson Kindler novel, or to have himself whisked away by a dust devil like Lucky Farouq, there had to be something more to living than smashing the same iron with the same hammer every day. A strange noise caught his distracted attention, like the distant ringing of a bell. IT seemed to be coming from the woods behind the forge yard... Gatewalkers Questions:
• What were you doing just before the aiudara opened? Getting ready for another dull day at the forge. • Which aiudara did you go through/where were you when you vanished?
• What had changed when you returned again?
• How did you respond when Dr. Ritalson contacted you? Excited, curious, scared etc.
• What makes you special? Out of all the Gatewalkers out there, why (according to you) did Ritalson choose you?
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