Bird

Crichton, Xamarath's Familiar's page

12 posts. Alias of Kagehiro.


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Could Crichton fly to the other side unmolested and search for a lever or release?


Crichton keeps an eye and ear out for Xamarath while he goes through the process of sorting and identifying the various pieces of gear they have recovered from the dead goblins.

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25 If Taking 20 isn't viable, that is


"Oi-oi-oi! Oi dun get paid enough fer this!" Crichton beats his tiny little wings as fast as he can, rising into the air above the bridge to get a better view of the structure ahead of him. "Come t'think o' it, ye don't pay me at all, sir!"

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (20) + 12 = 32


Crichton attempts to help Xamarath out of the vines, but he's too small and fat to accomplish much apart from wheezing like an old dying gerbil.

1d20 - 4 ⇒ (5) - 4 = 1


"She's loikly burnin' everything ye've come into contact with, she is!"


Crichton obeys with a heavy sigh, clutching the vial in both talons and ascending to ceiling before zipping off to deliver the prized parcel to Zoli. He lets loose a terrified and somehow still humorous cry of alarm as he passes over the creature's gnashing maw. Thankfully, he has no excremental offerings during this exchange.

Mere seconds later, Crichton comes to hove before Zoli, dropping the potion in Zoli's lap before descending to the ground before her. Fanning feathers and bobbing frantically, the bird attempts to act out instructions on how to drink a potion, while saying, "Down the hole, aye? Drink-drink quick like, Miss Zoli!"

In case Crichton provokes—unsure of the dimensions of the hallway: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11 (miss)

It's a potion of cure light


With a sputtering of never-voiced protests, Crichton eventually sags in defeat. "I just knew this would be a mistake, I did. Oi, Crichton ole chap, what've ye gotten yourself into now?"

The plump cardinal hovers forward and alights on Eugeni's shoulder, head cocked sideways as he looks and listens for any sort of trouble lurking in the tunnels ahead.


Crichton propels himself from Xamarath's shoulder to try and momentarily distract the goblin behind them, but manages to merely poop himself in a panic before hovering closer to the ceiling. A thick matte paste of white and black impacts the floor of the entry hallway: an excremental dare to any soul foolish enough to brave further trespass into the Glasswork's depths.

Aid Another Attempt: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2


Crichton buries his head in an outstretched wing. "There ye have it, ye do! Come from stars afar to wander aimlessly lands most foreign, 'e has!"

Bobbing clumsily to and fro, head tilting at adorable angles, he continues, "Bred of finest wizardly stock, this one—spending 'is bluster an' power to bed all manner of localry. Your champion, ladies an' gents! Your champion!"


The small cardinal sighs in defeat, offering no challenge to the Thayvian's command "Yes, taskmaster Xamarath! I'll floy up an' keep a watch, I will!"

Crichton beats his wings frantically to convey his considerable bulk airborne. He finds a suitable perch to afford him a commanding view of the area surrounding the house.

Taking 20 on Perception (20+12=32), if possible.

If not: Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (12) + 12 = 24


Raising a wing tip to beg a moment's reprieve to catch his breath, Crichton eventually manages to perk up atop his perch on the red wizard's shoulder.

"Now that be a story in and of itself! I knew ya was doin' battle, I did. Always wiff the excitement, you are. So I's started yellin' loud as I may, aye? Wiff all tha commotion I suspect it were a good five minutes 'fore anybody listened, it were. So's then, woosh goes tha door a'openin' an' woosh goes I outside. Nearly beat me bloody wings off ta find ye, I did!"

His nerves seem to settle a bit, as does his rapid intake of oxygen with tiny gasps. "Oi, I see ye been makin' new friends, ye have! An' who be this fine lot o' folk?" The bird bobs up and down on Xamarath's shoulder, raising his head at cocked angle to examine the array of people gathering around.


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cheep cheep!