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Collapsing to the ground, Zlotii clutches his abdomen and squirms, grimacing and moaning.
Zlotii chugs the antivenom, gasping for breath.
Edit: no surprises there.
Zlotii is looking very grey and sweaty. He casts a quick spell on himself, but it doesn't seem to do much good.
This sequence of events does not transpire as it should. This confuses and frustrates me. Zlotii takes a step forward and makes a touch attack to the monster.
Erase from Time (Su): As a melee touch attack, you can temporarily remove a creature from time altogether.
Zlotii seems more perplexed than pained. He takes a 5' step back, then fires his crossbow t the beast.
Try to make a meal of us, wyrm, and you'll find only death! Take the offered turtle carcass and be glad of it.
Zlotii's eyes come back into focus, and he intones, I see us speaking with the beast. For his part, the Doktor checks to ensure that his crossbow is loaded, but points it at the ground.
Zlotii's jaw goes slack as he stares, eyes unfocused, at the approaching creature.
Cruel fate! Zlotii points up at the source of the disturbance. Avian predator of some sort, if I have it right.
Zlotii says nothing as he follows the group upstream; his attention is entirely on the sky. He gazes absently upward, allowing his horse to pick its way along with little guidance.
Zlotii wrinkles his nose. Can't make a proper turtle soup with that foul water.
Zlotii prefers to continue along the Tuskwater, but will follow along with the group without argument, no matter the decision on direction.
He must have found it in a flying fish. Zlotii makes a rimshot noise. Budum-bum. Then he stares off into space for most of the rest of the day, mumbling to himself.
The Doktor nods in agreement. Food is food. He heals Bea, then proceeds to inspect the fallen creature. Realizing that the rest of the group is probably anxious to continue moving, he decides not to argue for staying here to properly butcher the turtle and have a proper meal. He whistles tunelessly as he carves out a few choice hunks for later use in stew, pausing to gaze into the fascinating wreckage of the beast's wounds.
The Doktor moves over toward the big cat, and heals it, if it allows him to.
That's a lot of soup. Zlotii raises his crossbow and fires in one quick motion, wondering if his healing powers will be sufficient against the kind of devastating wounds those giant jaws can inflict.
Ah. Hm. That was most thoughtful of you, Bea. Zlotii sinks his hand deep into the bear's guts, pulling out a long, ropy string. He peers closely at the mess, contemplative. Several long minutes later, he adds, Gamey, I'd wager. I propose braising, if we've access to a cast iron pot. He looks around hopefully, but no appropriate cookware is apparent.
Though walking carefully down the trail, Zlotii doesn't seem to be moving any more slowly than anyone else. However, he ends up at the back of the group anyway, managing to hold up progress a bit. Though regular sized, his steps just don't seem to carry him as far as they should.
The Doktor turns to Bea and says, Hrm. No, I didn't know anyone lived out here. I suppose it isn't too surprising, we hardly know anything about this territory. He stares at the long grass waving in the wind for a long minute, then says, I suppose we hobble the horses here and take the trail. If we're hunting giant turtles, we don't have any manpower to spare to set a guard. Mmm. Turtle.
Humph! Zlotii laughs out loud at Vasily's last comment, though it isn't clear why. Setting aside the concept of "having time", this turtle appears to be a threat. It also sounds likely to be tasty.
Zlotii's eyes suddenly come into focus when food is mentioned. Ah. Hmm. Arven. Wonderful. Do I smell fish? Lovely. The Doktor stares disconcertingly at the fisherman, focus fading in and out as he tells his stories. After a reasonable amount of time "chatting", he adds Fascinating, as ever,my good man...Say, how well do you know the Tuskwater? I'd wager you know it pretty well, hmm? We're doing a bit of exploring, surveying, actually, and I don't think we've fully mapped this area, yet. He looks around to his companions for confirmation.
Zlotii seems satisfied to be led around, distracted by his usual introspection.
Having watched the wasps fly about in their inscrutable patterns for what appeared to be an arbitrary amount of time, Zlotii's attention suddenly returns to the present. A veteran of a lengthy military campaign in his cousin's Army, he sees the rain and mud as an inevitable inconvenience to slog through. The Doktor nods in agreement. Let us keep moving, but remain on the bluffs. We should be on high ground if the river floods. He watches the rain slowly fill a footprint in the mud.
I suggest that we explore along the Tuskwater, directly south. We can then assess whether and where to cross to the west.
Bought a +1 light crossbow and +1 chain shirt, if that's OK. Profile is updated.
Updating sheet as well. Might buy a magic weapon or armor - nothing special.
The good Doktor stares vaguely at Bea long after she has asked her question and the conversation has moved on. Certainly. He casts a glance at the window to confirm the time of day. Dawn...tomorrow. He seems a bit embarrassed when he adds, I would appreciate a reminder in the morning. Should we perhaps apply ourselves to more exploring?
I'm afraid that I do not perceive reality in the same way that you do, and as such, I'm likely unable to provide a satisfactory answer to your question. Zlotii answers Vasily, prodding a particular clump of mud with the toe of his boot. I assure you that nothing about me is an affectation. I would drop it in a heartbeat, were it so. Before long, in your perception of time, you will come to understand our relationship for what it really is, and you will realize that my "ability" is actually more of a "liability". He adds, If I had not yet informed you that I know the Manderly's and that I am fond of them, I feel it is appropriate that I do so in your now. The good Doktor stares long and uncharacteristically lucidly at Rufus as he makes his way from the gathering. When he finally turns away, he sees Vasily, and a look of consternation flashes briefly across his face. He says, tentatively, Good afternoon...I am Doktor Zlotii Medvyed...It is my pleasure to...make your acquaintance?
I agree with the bastard.
The good Doktor had been gazing in the general direction of the conversation with unfocused eyes until it turned potentially violent. His attention returning to the ongoing saga, he smiles an uncomfortable smile. A moment? He suggests to Bea, then turns to the group. This discussion need not end so dramatically. Rufus has but disagreed in a disagreeable way, and added a few unnecessary, and in my opinion, incorrect personal insults that have raised tempers. If the man wishes to part company, by all means he should go in peace. If he wishes to stay and build a kingdom with us, perhaps a sincere apology to those he insulted, and assurances that he will be more civil in the future? We can not expect all of our activities to take place under a unanimous consensus; there will be dissenting opinions. It's not clear to me what exactly Rufus is dissenting against, to be honest, unless it is the possibility that others beside himself may have a valid understanding of our situation. In turn, we might provide assurances that all voices will be heard before significant actions are taken. Of course, once the dissenting voices are heard, Bea's decision is law. He adds, I have not had the opportunity to read the relevant entrails as of late, so I have no opinion on river travel.
Though I'm not blocked at work, and I've occasionally browsed, I've managed to exert the fullest extent of my will and not done any posting. Not once. I'm more proud of that than I should be, I think. As for who should lead, Zlotii supports Bea. It's pretty much that simple. My PC want Bea to lead, so I, as a player, want Bea in the ruler slot for kingdom building. I'm not too concerned about the mechanics - they'll work out. As for Zlotii's role, I picked councilor because that's the closest to the part I intend to play in-game. If someone else wants the gig, we can discuss it. I'd rather not be replaced by an NPC, though, because that wouldn't be any fun for me. Also, Edvard - best of luck and all that.
Hmm.The Doktor makes a noise of disapproval, taking in Bea's harried state. Are you a laborer, or our leader? He smiles, awkwardly. Choose now, because I have no wish to lend my support to a laborer, and neither do the people who have come to settle here. They can build, and farm. Leave the labor to them. What they need from you is to tell them what you want, and why it is also what they want. I would suggest a road to Oleg's. Once the fort is secure, communications and trade will be our lifeblood. The road will bring news, both weal and woe, and the pattern of hoofbeats ringing upon the cobbles may align with our natural harmonics. Perhaps. Hoofbeats are not so instructive as fresh entrails, but they are not without their uses. Zlotii makes hoofbeat noises by clucking his tongue, seemingly intent on reproducing a certain pattern that he can't quite reproduce to his satisfaction.
Ha! The Doktor looks around, sees that no one else is laughing, and shrugs.
I'm cool with Buggula's list, with a few points for clarification: General is listed as Jacyn. Do you mean Kesten?
Also, the big question - What do we name our new town / kingdom? Being a total suck-up, the Dok would like to name the town Fort Gurev after his uncle, the head of the Medvyed family.
Gang, I think we should probably do the business of Kingdom Building here, so it doesn't get in the way of role-playing. I took a look at the Kingdom Rules, and it looks like we need to make a few decisions. I've put together a crude (and incomplete) Kingdom Sheet, which I've appended below. 1. Name - we should probably handle this in character
Kingdom Name:
Economy:
Loyalty:
Stability:
The good doktor nods in greeting as the two men enter, but says nothing in the way of introduction. You don't sense rudeness in his actions - the nod is one of easy familiarity, like he knows you well already and sees no need for pleasantries. Possessing little in the way of useful everyday skills, Zlotii spends much of his time staring into space, seeming to watch the patterns the birds make as they fly through the sky. On the occasion that a new settler is injured, he practices efficient, no-nonsense field medicine, seeing it as a way to pull his weight in the small community. He generally speaks only when spoken to, and sometimes not even then. On the rare occasion that he starts a conversation, it makes little sense. Currently, he is listening in on the exchange between Rufus and Bea, though his only contribution is a bemused expression and the occasional humming.
Doktor Zlotii Medvyed is a pale, slender man with consistently tousled hair and a vague expression. He rarely seems to be entirely aware of his surroundings. Though the tabard draped over his armor is in a state of poor repair, the house crest embroidered on its breast can be seen as a black bear with black antlers above its head, in front of a red field. When he does speak coherently, he is well mannered, if a bit on the aloof side. On one such occasion, he offers his brief assessment as if the decision is all but made, and simply needs to be confirmed aloud. Lord Surtova has granted us the right to rule, which we do from our position of greatest defense. It this not well established? The fort...the fort is the place. Unfortunately, he then gets distracted by a particularly odd looking bug and seems to forget he was speaking.
The good Doktor, having spent the past several minutes staring blankly at the wind moving through the trees, wipes a bit of drool from the corner of his mouth and glances at the charter for a few seconds. Ah. We're at that bit, then. He looks at his tabard, grimaces at the state of it, and adds. I don't yet look like a ruler. Have we selected who is to be in charge? I am of noble birth, but it does not sit entirely comfortably with me, as I may have mentioned. Or maybe I haven't.
Zlotii stares at Akiros for an uncomfortably long time. Nevertheless, my opinion remains unchanged. The good Doktor will work with the rest of the group to establish a camp with line of sight to the basement door. He'll help rummage for food, and cast his last healing spell of the day before he retires for the evening. (cast on the most injured - Bea or Akiros?) He'll take any watch overnight.
Doktor Zlotii stands up from his intense inspection of the deceased Stag Lord's wound, sighing in disappointment. He rubs his hands on his trousers and intones, I can heal only one more time today, and I intend to save it for future need. He listens to Akiros, adding. Ah...old man. Hmm. The Stag Lord is dead, and the fort is ours. We should camp and restore our vitality. Killing an old man and his pet vermin can be done at a time of our choosing. We should, of course, stay alert and guard our camp well, in case the old man decides to attack.
The Doktor drops to one knee and leans close to study the Stag Lord's fatal wound.
Though the Doktor realizes that the Stag Lord is nearly impervious to his attacks, the man seems in a sort of fugue state. His expression never changes as he draws another bolt, smoothly loads and fires.
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