Erip curses her stupidity from beyond the grave.
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Lonsoc the rat shrieks as the beetles crawl over her, straining under them (and the weight of Erip's spellbook) for scant seconds, then slumping.
Erip looks at his tiny flask, then at Farrukh's. "Yeah, that'll do."
Erip pulls a piece of butter out of his pouch and throws it to the floor in front of the spider monster, not even really trying to dodge its attacks. If he succeeds, a thin film of grey-yellow oil appears under its feet. He then runs back to the group.
Erip shivers and lays his hand on Carina, again with a miniature cloak. "This doesn't sound like something Tanith and Farrukh can defeat on their own. Let's go." He pulls off his backpack and moves next to Tanith, where he takes out the oil flask and sets it on the sarcophagus.
"I may be wrong, but Farrukh, you might want to get that torch out again . . ."
Erip also crawls in and picks around the scattered bones. "Probably nothing, but . . ."
"Let's check out the dais, perhaps?" Erip moves west and repeats the rhyme, producing a new light on his pick. He also waves another cloak over Farrukh.
Erip unstraps his heavy pick and steps up to the snarling wolf. He tries to block its jabs at Farrukh.
However, he mostly gets in the way.
"Hmm, it looks like there are pipes under here making the whispering sound."
Erip stage-whispers back, "Perhaps Spiny could carry it, if it's not too heavy? It could fetch a good price from my master." He also examines the carvings on the wall he's walking along, keeping a (hyperopic) eye out for any hidden buttons or unusual seams. He runs his other hand through a repetitious series of gestures, whispering something under his breath.
Erip peers at the unfinished carving in Carina's hands. "Mind if I . . .?" When he gets it, he turns it over a few times.
"Yes, what a sad story . . ." When Cuetzpalli asks, Erip curses. "Oh! Yes, of course, sorry." He whispers a sibilant rhyme, plucking one of his fireflies from its jar. When he touches Tanith's bardiche, a garish yellow light slowly flickers into being along its haft.
As he follows Tanith into the western hallway, Erip waves another cloak over Carina, making similar sounds and gestures. He hands her back the beetle carving.
"O, goodness! I wish I'd brought some charcoal, or better digging implements." Erip clicks his tongue and lips and holds his hands perfectly vertical again, then holds them in front of the statue, the shards, and the carving (assuming Carina still has it out).
"Should we continue on?" Erip moves back east along the corridor, waiting at the corner for someone tough-looking like Robin or Farrukh.
"Can I also see that vial?" If Carina gives it to him, Erip makes a cursory examination of the empty healing vial. He also surreptitiously examines any magical auras in the group as they walk. [
"Robin, what kind of fish is that?" When they arrive at the cairn, Erip polysyllabically gargles and waves a miniature cloak over Cuetzpalli; he should be quicker to react to danger, and more resilient.
"Nice find!" Erip examines the oil.
"Well, you've been doing a lot of good work. I thank you for that tea mix, by the way - it's done wonders for my throat." Erip bobs his head at the tiefling. "Robin, was it? How good are you at finding tracks? After this we should start looking for the Cairn."
"Indeed; I suppose some introductions and perhaps a refreshment on our purpose are in order." Erip steps aside to let the others look in the decrepit building. He nods to Tanith and says, "Hello" to Carina, then turns back to Robin. "Yeah, hah, we're not exactly going to sit out here and eat. Farrukh has been organizing this expedition for months!" When everyone's come back outside , he introduces himself. "I'm Erip, a wizard of the Cairn Hills and the Mistmarsh. I already know some of you, but for the benefit of the rest, I think we should go around and give our names."
Erip jumps at the sound. "Ah, hello!" she says, turning around a bit more gracefully and raising her hand in a wave. "Yes, we're having a picnic! What brings you up this way, sir?" She nudges Farrukh with her elbow. "I don't know this guy . . . do you think we can trust him?"
"There were some other adventurers who owned this old office, I think, but no one's heard from them for a while. It mightn't hurt to check if they left any useful equipment, then?" Erip tromps up the steps and tests the handle.
Erip stumbles over a stone, nearly falling into one of those glass piles. She checks her component pouch again - yes, the fireflies are still buzzing around their jar. She glances up at Farrukh, the lean Baklunish with the bladed shield, and grins briefly. "I guess all this glass is from the Dourstone miners. It's not as bad as working for Smenk, but it still gets dark and dusty down there." She follows Farrukh to the office. "Did you bring any special equipment? I have some rope," she says, twisting awkwardly to pat her rucksack. Her grey rat, Lonsoc, squeaks at the unexpected movement.
Erip's memory of the last 20-30 years is still a little hazy, but he's here.
Still working on backstory, but I'll probably finish that before the cutoff time. |