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Yeah, I hate to do this, but I'm going to have to drop out of this game. With my school and work schedule only promising to get busier from here on out, and a new computer giving me a wealth of other things to do, I just don't have nearly as much time for PbP games anymore. I want to thank you all for letting me play with you, and especially you, GM Birch, for putting all this together. I wish you all the best.
Doc coughs again into the arm of his shirt, looking thoroughly pained. "'is damned smoke," he complains, "is gonna be th' death o' me if I don' git a'ay from it." Burying his face into his shirt once again, he turns back and tries to head away from the source of the fire.
I'm ridiculously swamped with work and school right now, so I will not be able to do much posting in the near future. Feel free to NPC Savren as need be, GM.
Doc immediately puts Xavier's advice into action, pulling a vial from his belt and popping the cork. He spits into the vial, closes it up again, and begins to shake it, before tossing it at the shadowy figure. Once done, he covers his mouth again.
Doc falls into a defensive stance while coughing painfully, attempting to cover his face with one hand while brandishing his walking cane with the other.
Doc readies his walking stick, uncomfortable. I don' loike 'is one bi', he thinks to himself. His ever-present smile is tinged with a bit of worry.
Doc puts his left sleeve to his mouth and nose, trying to block the smoke. "I thin' we should put 'at out," the Dwarf suggests. "I' i's an oil fire, 'en we shouldn't use water... 'at'll jus' make it worse," he says, leaning on his walking cane.
Doc looks impressed. "Now 'en, wit' th' undead about, we'll want t' git this body some'ere safe... What d' ya fellas think?" the Dwarf asks, switching his grip on his walking stick once again.
Doc just glares at the thing, weapon raised but not moving to join the others in smashing the oversized beetle.
Savren looks to Xavier, eyebrow raised. "I' ya think so, lad. One o' ya big fellas should lead th' way," the Dwarf suggests, gesturing to the three half-orcs.
Doc follows after Grum, weapon held tightly. "Le's find th' lass, git the E'erflame and git outta 'is place. Th' less t' do wit' th' walkin' dead, the betta!"
Doc strokes his beard, nodding. "A'roight 'en, which way'd 'ey take 'er? I' we're lucky, we c'n still save th' lass."
Doc chuckles at Grob's declaration. "Sounds loike a plan, lad!" he laughs, smiling at the half-orc.
Doc pulls the vial from his belt again, and moves to the door. "Well, lads, 'at's enough dawdlin'! Le's keep goin'," he suggests, cane and bomb at the ready.
Doc also moves to take one of the switches, manipulating on Xavier's count.
Doc assists in looking for other levers, switches or anything that looks like it may effect the door. His deft footsteps bely his stout frame.
Doc helps search for a method to open the door, making sure to avoid the same tiles as before.
Doc gives the door a once-over, as well.
Doc pulls a vial from his belt, preparing to cautiously enter the next room. He looks to the others, then gesturing at the door with his head, both hands laden with weaponry.
Doc walks over and pats Xavier on the back. "'at was somethin', lad. Good on ya," he says, smiling. He nods when the Cleric suggests moving on, speaking, "The lass 'as 'er cat. If she can't handle a few walkin' bones, no use tryin' t' keep 'er 'ere. Le's keep our 'eads t'gether and move on."
Doc pulls a vial from his belt, and pulls the cork out. He spits in the vial, recorks it and shakes it, before tossing it behind some of the skeletons. "Knew I shoulda taken th' cane t' ya!" he shouts, a look somewhere between happiness and worry on his face.
Doc brandishes his walking stick. "'at c'n be taken care of, lass," he smirks.
Doc takes a good look around, the dim light no problem for his Dwarven eyes. "Well, lads an' lass, what d'ya think we should do? Check out 'at noise?" he asks, pointing towards the east.
Doc nods at Grum's assessment of the situation. "Very wrong, indeed, lad," he says, pulling a vial from his belt and clutching it tightly in his right hand. "Stay alert. I fear th' Flame ain't the only thin' waitin' here f'r us."
Doc nods, switching the grip on his weapon and looking deadly serious. "Be careful, lads and lass. I don' like th' feel o' this at all."
Doc nods, pulling a hankerchief from his vest and covering his mouth with it. "That ain't a pretty sight at'all," he says, tightening his grip on his walking stick.
Doc hurries after Grum to the fallen Xavier's side. "Oy, lad! Are ye okay? It seems this ain't been your lucky week, so far..." Though there is a little worry in his voice, his smile is still in place as he offers a hand to the cleric.
Savren shrugs, not looking terribly pleased with the idea. "Whate'er, lad. Let's make it quick, though, I'd rather not end up like him f'r lack o' food from too much dawdlin'."
Not particularly. It's living people Savren's got an interest in.
"There ain't nothin' here, lads. Let's head back an' keep goin'. The E'erflame is waitin' fir us, but we don't got fore'er!" Doc states, his grin in full force as he leans heavily on his walking stick.
Doc looks around warily, still clutching his walking stick like a weapon. "I don' like this at all, lads. No' a bit."
Savren pulls a vial from his belt with his left hand, readying himself.
Savren coughs into a free hand, before smiling guiltily. "I said I was sorry, lad. Didn't mean nothin' by it," he says, showing one of the vials tucked in his belt to Xavier. "These babies are jus' a wee bit unstable in use. I'll try an' be more careful in th' future!" the dwarven doctor laughs, returning the vial to his belt.
Doc walks with the others, a carefree grin on his face. Tap-tap-tak, he travels with a comfortable gait. However, when they begin to near the lake, he notices the dark form laying next to the water, and hefts his cane, switching the grip on it. "Well, lads, that looks like it could be somethin' we need to investigate," he says, pointing towards it with the reinforced walking stick. "Can't be too careful, y'know!"
Doc laughs as he continues to work on Xavier. "Some folk jus' love everythin', lad. No use questionin' it!" the dwarven doctor laughs as he finishes wrapping the Cleric's wounds. "A'right, that should do 'im fir now, but he'll pro'ly be mighty cross wi' me in th' morn."
Doc smiles wryly. "I'll do me best, lad. I'll do me best."
For the record, Savren's tiefling equivalent in a PFS game was totally able to, while driving a ship during a module, shout: "DAMNIT LIN, I'M A DOCTOR, NOT A HELMSMAN" after driving the ship into a rock.
"Course I can! I'm a doctor, after all, lad!" Savren smiles widely, his hands fast at work dressing Xavier's wounds.
Doc rushes over to Xavier, a bit of worry on his face. "Oh blast, 'is wasn't what I was plannin' at all!" He pulls his healer's kit from his satchel, opening it up and pulling some things from it, moving to bind some of the Cleric's wounds.
We can always spend a day using the Heal skill + Aid Another to get you healed up to the point where you can heal yourself, Xavier. ;)
You are correct, but -1 is definitely better than -4. :)
"Sorry lads!" the dwarven man says as he realizes he caught some of his comrades in the blast. Doc then strikes out at the wolf with his cane, hoping to finish off the aggressive beast before it can seriously hurt anyone else.
S'alright boss, take all the time you need. I've got a mountain of classwork to work on for Wednesday, anyway. ;)
Doc frowns as the wolves return. When they attack, he pulls a vial from his belt, pulls off the lid, spits into it, and then shakes the vial, before tossing it at the hostile animals.
Doc's eyes stay trained on the wolf, his thumb pressing heavily on the top of his vial. He scarcely even breathes, let alone moves, figuring that antagonizing or attacking the animal might not be the only way to handle the situation.
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