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"You're dead wrong if you think for a second that I enjoy spilling blood Kitty. All I want is to see this through to the end and walk out of here alive. It's not cowardice, it's self preservation, and so long as its not me on the chopping block I'll nail every one of your coffins shut to enjoy another second of existence. If you wouldn't do the same than you're a liar! Its natural Human instinct to save yourself first."
"I aint no cop!" Corbyn shouts, slamming his fist onto the bar. "It seems to me that not one of you remember me being the only one to defend Harold when the rest of you were openly suspicious about him yourselves. Think about it!"
"If you know anything Marlene speak now. My soul can't handle an eternity of remorse for killing an innocent man." "Don't blame me for the lac of security around here Rick. I just walked myself in looking for a drink. If this list is so tight, explain to me how you managed to let 3 cops and a ninja in here in addition to myself. I'm shocked and offended you accuse me of being a liar!"
"I find his injuries and his story suspicious. He claims to have followed me here from the previous establishment I was enjoying. I suspect he is a Police Officer in disguise, and that he sustained his injuries as the mob turned hostile in their attempt to escape incarceration. Being so vocal about my displeasure in the raid and my drive to find a new Speakeasy to retreat to, I assume he'd find me a good target to follow and chased me through the hidden escape in the book case and right through that door." Corbyn raises his index finger to the entrance, missing knobs and all. Corbyn stares Jimmy right in the eyes and speaks without blinking in a low and serious tone: "That, and his aura is all manner of funny colors. There is something in the vibrations he gives off that just doesn't agree with me..."
"I told you my story the second I came in here Mr. Schroeder. I'm merely here for fun and to grab life by its majestic unicorn horn!" "I'm afraid I must take Harold's side. I dont know where you got those injuries Jeremy, but I'd hazard a guess it was from when you raided MacGuffins. Now you're here to get that raise and desk job you've been working toward by taking all us innocent alcohol loving socialites to prison."
"Gah, what yellow belly tactics. We ain't dealin' with honorable folks here, are we?" "I'm ashamed to be alive to see the day when those sworn to protect us good citizens have becomes the ones we fear. And for what? Because we enjoy the drink! Well I plan to continue enjoying it to the fullest! If some dirty Copper has a problem with that they can come face me like a man! Corbyn downs the last of his Absinthe "Jimmy, I'd like to buy the house a round! Surely, and good law abiding officer would refuse. If not that proves their corruption and how morally unjust their dirty tactics are." He slams his empty cup on the table and then places an assorted handful of crumpled bills beside it. "Let anybody who refuses drink be suspect in my eyes! Any any Copper who accepts can rot in Hell!"
"Third eye?? Cockatrice??" Mike asks is utter confusion, "you just break out of the nut-house? I must be in a dream, no a nightmare." "A house made of nuts? All I've heard coming from your mouth all night is nonsense. Why dont you take a page out of the horned rhyming man's scribblings and really look into it. He's the only one who makes any sense around here besides me."
Corbyn, you aint quite right in the head. Even you have to admit you were at MacGuffin's and it got raided, now you are here and it was going to get raided. Suspicious, very suspicious. Plus the whole butterfly thing?? "I'm plenty right in the head!" Corbyn refutes. "Its all of you who are to blind to open your third eye! Coincidence is my substitute for suspicion. And butterflies are the least of your concern. Doesn't it bother you that there is a small Cockatrice infestation in this very building?" Corbyn leans over and picks up his cigar. He takes a long puff and savours a taste from his glass of Absinthe.
Corbyn stands wide eyed with his mouth open so wide his cigar falls out and bounces across the floor. "OH!, You're in quite the pickle Corbyn. First Macguffin's and now this place. What are the odds of this happening twice in a night I wonder? Just keep your cool and don't draw attention to yourself. Find the secret exit and make your way to another Speakeasy.
Jimmy retrieves the green bottle from under the bar and a tall narrow flute from the rack above. He pours a generous measure and offers it over a towel-draped arm to the eccentric Corbyn. Then he steps back to observe the man's reaction. Corbyn attempts to leap straight up with one arm outstretched and madly clasps his hand in an attempt to catch whatever bizarre creature he's chasing. His massive weight does little to overcome the gravity in the room and his exaggerated movements only result in a little hop off the ground before plummeting back down onto his round belly right in front of the bar. With wide eyes he slowly spreads his fingers just a bit to examine his catch, and then closes them in a tight yet gentle fashion only a second later before darting to his feet. Reaching onto his coat pocket he pulls out a finely crafted wooden box and places whatever is in his hand carefully inside, closes the lid and secures the latch. Corbyn places the box on the bar between himself and Jimmy and reaches into his breast pocket to retrieve his wallet. He hands toward Jimmy an assortment of large crumpled bills and a mix of loose change to pay for his drink. "The Blue Butterflies make a powerful Jackalope aphrodisiac you know. This little guy is going to add a nice bit of change to my already impressive fortunes, and The Green Fairy is my reward!" With that, Corbyn smiles and calmly takes a large sip from his glass and lights a cigar.
Corbyn swats madly at the air, trying to catch what only appears to be nothing to spectators. He has clearly lost the memory of his request for drink. "CURSE THESE MAGICAL BUTTERFLIES! The colors, they're beautiful, and their glow trails on for meters at a time, but they're both intrusive and obstructive! How is a gentleman supposed to get intoxicated in good company with all these distractions fluttering about?" Spinning in circles and tripping over furniture, personnel and customers while trying to catch the air, Corbyn replies to Jimmy's option: "The Absinthe! And a butterfly net to go along with it! At very least a fly swatter or perhaps a large shoe!"
"A Smattering sounds exactly like what I need right now. HA! Corbyn doesn't care if he's funny or not to anybody else in the room, he seems to be making quite enough loud fun for himself. "I'll tell you what..." Corbyn pauses quickly as he squints trying to read Jimmy's name tag Jimmy, why dont you fetch me a glass of something very exquisite and overpriced! Don't you worry, i'll be able to afford it. We all know that the best hideaway's have a secret reserve for the upper echelon. Whenever you have time, friend. I plan on being here all night."
Having been the last customer through the door before it was locked, Corbyn confidently examines his surroundings. The look on his face clearly indicates he is impressed with his new venue. "Yes, this will do nicely!" He announces to the room. "Nobody would suspect a Speakeasy in the basement of a Funeral Home! Genius to the man who came up with it." He keeps talking to nobody in particular as he makes his way over to the bar. "Just came from MacGuffin's 4 blocks over. There was a police raid not a half hour ago! Bartender shouted the word and everybody started runnun' out of the joint through a secret door hidden in a bookcase. I didn't know that was the code word for "cop's are comin". I just went along with the crowd and luckily enough I got away. There's always a new Speakeasy though. I just followed the signs and found this beautiful establishment. The owner needs to do some work on the secret knock though, it's the same as the one at "The Blind Iguana" down the street. Regardless, I have a powerful thirst!" "Bartender, What do you have?"
I'll need ammo above anything else. I was also thinking of some weapon blanch just in case we come across anything with DR. I'd likely prepare 10 of each arrow ahead of time and hold onto the rest to share with the party. I used up all my starting gold so this loot is all I have. Do you guys think this is a good expenditure of my cut? Any suggestions for the remainder? 120 Arrows (7GP)
1 Adamantine Weapon Blanch (100 GP)
Total: 411 GP GMPM: I did a quick tally on my carrying capacity with all this and I should just come in under my light load with this. PARTY: Does anybody have any kind of extradimensional storage yet?
[ooc]Do we have anything like a total on the treasure we collected? I want to think a bit about shopping. I was wondering the same thing? I've been keeping track of things like XP but I was under the impression Karoz or somebody else had loot. Its difficult to make purchases when I don't know what my cut of the hoard is.
"OK, That settles it! I'm out of here! No more Drakes, or worms, acid burns or tunnels. I'm taking my phat pile of loot and heading to Galduria to equip then I'm going to complete the mision." Annoyed with the sight of the Drake, Corbyn storms out of the tunnel, mounts Plod and takes the lead back to town.
I hope this game doesn't come to an end. The current pace is actually working well for me at the moment (which isn't to say that I wouldn't mind a bit of a faster pace). Eventually I'd maybe like to see things get on track in accomplishing goals from the actual module and maybe gaining a level and finding a Hippogriff, but I'm easy going. I'm just happy to be a player in a game as good as this one.
We're gonna have to bring the cart from town for all this!"[/b] Does anybody know where the post is that contains this information. I'm trying to remember but I cant seem to recall about the cart or who owns it. At first I thought it was me but I don't have one in my inventory. Keeping up with continuity is challenging sometimes after such a long time.
"There's still no sign or explanation to the infestation that plagued these beasts. Perhaps one of these two passages will generate a clue." "You don't think that whatever the Drakes had could be contracted by humans do you? I don't want to have what they had." Corbyn grudgingly presses forward with the party.
Corbyn sighs as he follows everybody back into the cave. "I have a bad feeling about this." he mutters to plod. Upon reaching the mouth of the cave he says to his mighty companion: "You stay here again and if any trouble comes out of that cave a second time you run. Run and don't look back, you hear me?" he pats Plod on the head and follows his companions into the cave. Looking down the pit Corbyn comments to the party in a very positive, non-sarcastic tone: "I think we should lower the Halfling, we've had some success with that in the past."
"Are you guys sure you want to be running back in there? That was almost a lot worse that it was. We could have died, all of us. I have acid burns all over my skin and I just about lost my best friend in the whole world. As I recall, this isnt even part of our mission. We're sidetracking ourselves, and over what?"
"He looks like he's going to make it." replies Corbyn. "That was intense. It was only 5 minutes of combat but it felt like 5 months!"
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