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The roar of thunder gets closer and closer, and now even the terrain is starting to tremble as the herd of huge animals approaches fast. Helped by Ima and the merchants, Jin-Liang screams at the ostrich-horses until they submit to being tied back to the carts, despite every instinct in their body screaming to run away. Pao-Je, Ghui and Hun-Mya jump on three of the four carts. Ima usually drives the fourth, but she will offer the reins to someone else if they offer. A few yards away, the thicket of bushes grows and models itself to form a barrier as Darvin hastily assumes a stable stance and executes some precise hands and shoulders movements. However, as impressive as his powers are, he knows that this will slow down the beasts, but doubts that the barrier will be enough to stop cold the stampede. Most beasts will deviate, but several could still crash through and trample the group. As Zanto gets atop the bush barrier, he realizes that his explosion would probably fall too short for now – the herd most likely would disperse from the noise only to reassemble itself again a few seconds later. For a lasting effect, he needs to wait – or get closer.
It is easy enough for Kalden to lift up in a vortex of air his firebending companion. Much less so for Zanto to keep balance and avoid total loss of orientation.
By concentrating on the vibrations the grass is sending him, Darvin can sense that the point of origin is roughly one mile away, possibly a little less. There are no trees around, just some small thickets of thorny briar bushes. The White Lotus look around – there’s really no significant hill to run towards in the immediate vicinity: the closest higher ground in the direction opposite to the “thunders” is at least four hundred yards away. In seeing the guards apprehensive, Pao-Je quickly springs into action “Come on! Master Ghui, young girl, get those ostrich horses and tie them back to the carts! We need to leave!” the merchants run over to the four carts to help Ghui and Ima “Guards! Do something!” screams the senior merchant “We do pay you for something, don’t we? Let’s see you handle this better than the saber-toothed moose lion!” What looked like rainclouds in the distant, fading light of the sunset, now more clearly resemble a cloud of dust coming from the ground. Jin: Distance Sense + Intellect check DC 10:
By measuring the decreasing distance of the “thunder” and dust cloud, you think whatever’s coming will get to you in two minutes tops Darvin: Distance Sense + Expertise (science) DC 10: By measuring the decreasing distance of the “thunder” and dust cloud, you think whatever’s coming will get to you in two minutes tops
The fire is well under control with the grass wet and removed, and the whole group of travelers sits around it to enjoy an abundant meal. Most of the villages you stopped in along your travel paid in supplies just as often as in gold, so you enjoy fresh fruit, sausage and cheese.
Safe in Talikriktug’s pouch, is the note that all five of the White Lotus agents read before getting hired as caravan guards Go the Happy Hoppy Possum Tavern in Mu-Nyao, and enjoy the game. Not much else has been said to them in Gaoling – their contact seemed to know very little about the issue. The thunder keeps getting stronger and some merchants take Jin’s advice to heart and start getting the tarps; still, Ghui doesn’t seem convinced “Ain’t the season f’r storms. Them clouds ‘re too far ‘way, you’ll see.” the caravan leader says chomping on an apple. Darvin, Perception DC 15:
From the direction of the thunders, the grass prairie is sending you strong, powerful vibrations. It is not the sensation of grass hit by rain: this is something else entirely. Jin, distance sense:
At the distance the clouds are right now, you should be able to see some lightning before the thunder. Yet, nothing. Kalden, Perception DC 20:
The air doesn’t quite smell right for rain. You never learned how to feel the air currents like most of your masters, but you know storms, and this one lacks many of the usual signs.
A somewhat common sight along the eastern shores of the Earth Kingdom and on the Eastern Air Nomads islands, the cranehawk is an opportunistic predator and scavenger, perfectly at ease stealing freshly slain prey from more powerful but slower carnivores. Still, despite its dubious morals, its swift and precise flight and hunting techniques has inspired many airbenders to emulate its style, and the peculiar raptor even gave a name to an infamous, if seldom used, Pai-Sho strategy. Ignorant of the impact it had on the human inhabitants of the world, the cranehawk keeps on with its life, stealing kills and prey to other animals.
« | | | » “C’mon, girl, we’re running out of daylight!” the coarse voice of caravan-master Ghui carries over in the empty plains, as his teenage niece Ima unties the ostrich horses from the four large carts and ties them together for the night.
“Maybe we’ll have rain instead, guys. Listen!” very far away, distant thunders announce, perhaps, a storm.
“I can do this myself…” Ima sticks out her tongue at her uncle, but she doesn’t mind the company, especially Kalden’s. The roguish air-bender has immediately grabbed the young girl’s attention and she seems very interested in whatever “war story” the one-eyed airbender can tell her. “I bet this is pretty boring… you guys must’ve faced who knows what dangers in your life, right?” she smiles a hopeful smile at the Lotus agents, eager to hear some dashing tale of heroics. ____________________
Ok, well. This is sad, and I'm really sorry to say this, but I think I'm just fooling myself in keeping this up.
This should be big second-to-last climactic battle, you are very much in danger of dying or messing up the opportunity of "winning" the adventure - and it feels as if I utterly failed to convey the sense of urgency and importance. Even if pace were to finally pick up (it won't) any feeling of horror or tragedy is now long gone, and half the players would've missed the important fight. I apologize for not being able to engage you more, for being reluctant to DMPC when was probably needed, for my inexperience as a PbP GM, and finlly for keeping this up even when it was clearly doomed. I hope I learned how to be a better GM. Thank you so much for the great characters and funny moments (it ended up being funnier rather than scarier, I think, but I think it was good while it lasted).
Mavro is the first of the pursuing heroes to turn the corner of the hallway and see Crove. The old man, badly bruised, hair and skin singed by fire, has a sadistic grin in his eyes. “Ha! You lose, you pathetic imbeciles! You are like children in the dark: blind, scared, ignorant of everything!”
From the dark cavern on which the door opens, hideous sounds come: a series of growls and hisses, joints popped and flesh torn, combined with uneven, arrhythmic steps coming towards the door… _____________________
Both Mavro and Varta break free of the web. Milo, still recovering, is joined by Xander, who finally made it through the cloud with no ill effects. Tempest fires a sparkling ball of lightning at Crove, but unfortunately the web conjured by the old cultist is in the way, making it difficult to aim. The ball of electricity just barely misses its target. Crove grins in seeing the whole group incapacitated or stuck because of his actions “Idiots! You are not prepared. You have no clue, you are dumb sheep like Marshan, and that coward Baskerwhel, that much is certain! I am the only one willing to do what it takes! And for this, I will triumph!” that said, he clenches his fists, bites his tongue and runs off through the flames. __________________________
It is a pathetic attempt, on Crove’s side, to resist Mavro’s sweep. The old Keeper falls flat on his back, the wind knocked out of his lungs. “Bastard! I am going to skin you for th… cough! COUGH!” Crove’s threat loses effectiveness when he stops to spit some blood.
Crove, lying on the ground with Mavro looming over him, extrudes spite and anger “Stop! Don’t you dare touch me again, you idiot, or I will melt your brain in a pot!” the shriek voice is coated in arcane power, and sticky filaments sprout from Crove’s fingers, entangling the hallway in thick webbing.
I've been to Iceland last year, it's an epic place. Hope you enjoy it.
Milo moves aside, opening a charging lane for the angered Mavro. The tall, old man runs towards his enemy, robes, beard and hair flowing behind him as he builds up speed and strikes Crove in the sternum with the butt of his weapon. It is a sight to behold, two old and greying men fighting for their lives.
Crove miraculously manages to get avoid Mavro’s staff when he drops his guard to cast a spell: a shimmering ray of luminous energy hits Mavro dead center, painfully burning clothes and skin and beard of the Pathfinder. ________________
Sorry to see you go, Varta. Best of luck with your business!
Milo staggers through the cloud, ending up on the other side. So does Varta, significantly less distraught by the awful smell. Her wolf companion, alas, is not so lucky. Xander retreats further away from the cloud.
______________________
We are... kind of close to the end. It really depends on how it goes here at the Asylum. I started cutting plot-irrelevant encounters a little too late I'm afraid. Lesson learned for future PbPs. The slow pace is a bit frustrating to me as a GM, mostly because it is a clear indicator that I'm not able to hold your attention and for that I apologize. That being said, we had a few sprints here and there, so if you all want to keep playing, I think we can make it to the end in a reasonable time. Ok, perhaps not reasonable. In 2 days, it will be 1 full year of life for this thread...
Varta sees nothing magical in Crove’s rooms – any riches in here are mundane in nature, and the tomes are about eldritch subjects but not magical themselves. Both Xander and Stormcloud quickly get a sense of Crove’s trail. The wolf, growling softly nose on the ground, and the nobleman following the whispers of his ancestors both sense the trail going towards the southern corridor ( ). Milo grabs the ink and is quick to move after them. The trio has barely gotten closer to the door when among the creeping lullabies and screams of the inmates a crotchety, old, shrill voice starts an incantation. “Damn you nosy, blasted intruders. You are ruining everything! Grah!” yells the voice.
Spellcraft DC 18:
the spell is Stinking Cloud. ___________________________
This cluster of rooms obviously seems to be Crove’s personal quarters. There are a bedroom(), an office () and a small study (). These rooms are likely to have been occupied until a few moments ago: a few candles still emanate a faint wisp of smoke, as if just blown out. Papers and books, mostly partial copies of the Pnakotic Manuscripts and related notes, are in disarray, and a quill lies in a pool of ink not yet dried. A series of footlockers in the bedroom reveals Crove’s mundane treasures: a bag heavy with coin – as you open it you are surprised to see mostly platinum coins – at least a couple hundreds of them. Another locker holds small archaeological relics: chiseled bricks, big shards of decorated pottery, and a few small statues: all with the same theme of twisted, multi-limbed creatures crudely represented. In the hands of a collector these must be worth several hundred gold coins. perception DC 30:
There is yet another secret door, opening on a small library (). A huge vacant space is visible upon the shelf, a hole the size of the Pnakotic Manuscripts you currently hold. By sifting through the volumes you find a decorated scrollcase, holding powerful incantations, some quite dangerous.
There is a scroll of contact other plane, a scroll of planar binding, a scroll of restoration, and a scroll of scry-ing.
secret GM roll:
You advance into the corridor north, past the secret door. On your left, a small set of stairs goes up to the ground floor (). Past that, you see a series of chambers as small as a cell (), but cleaner and furnished with a small desk rather than a bedroll: in each chamber a small window opens onto a cell, so that the inmate can be observed and studied unbeknownst to him. Further down the path there’s a larger room (), hosting a few tables with built-in straps and restrains as well as cabinets filled with surgical instruments.
Turning back, you find yourself in front of yet another open door onto an empty room (). You see that this part of the dungeon must have been the true lair of Crove, where he studied the Pnakotic Manuscripts and planned his insane summoning of the Beast. Still, it is frustratingly empty, and seems abandoned in a hurry. Perception DC 32: As you look into the study, you hear the faintest of noises, as if a piece of soft cloth hit the ground, and feel a light shift in the air of the room. Both come from south of you ().
It seems fairly clear that even the insane people who seem to be everywhere in this cursed building share a justified fear of the five adventurers’ combat prowess, and while creepy laughter and songs and screams can still be heard just behind any corner, most lunatics hide in their cells closing the door behind them when your group passes. Both the south and north corridor loop on themselves, and are merely walkways full of cell doors. All of these doors are open, not forced nor broken, to testify that the lunatics are free by design rather than by accident. The few not empty cells host those inmates whose type of madness emphasizes fear and paranoia rather than recklessness or cruelty: in a half dozen cells inmates can be seen hugging their knees rocking back and forth, or covering their eyes and ears, softly humming a comforting tone.
The larger, irregularly shaped room at the eastern end of the corridor () is furnished with a crude table and a few stools. Two inmates are chained to the walls, and they cower in fear as you approach. The air feels heavy, even thicker and damper than in the derros’ room.
Perception DC 25 or Knowledge (engineering) DC 20: The door on the northern wall has no jambs, nor handle, and actually seems to be carved from the same stone as the wall. Once closed, it would be virtually unnoticeable, but has been left wide open.
I'll be away until Monday. Big finale to the Asylum part coming then.
The small room south of the torture chamber is just a bedroom, with a privy impossibly foul-smelling. The bedroom contains just bunkbeds and a table, covered in the awful subject matter of the derros’ experimentation: a few human faces, peeled from heads and kept stretched inside individual frames, catalogued by ethnicity; two glasses full of teeth: one holding blood-stained, rotten teeth, the other clean and healthy ones; and what looks like a cookie jar full of assorted fingers and toes, with a few maggots crawling through them. A quick search of the derros and their lodging reveals a few things: a few blades and crossbows, as well as a thick leather vest they wore under the chirurgeon’s apron.
______________________________
A flash of lightning, sudden and bright, puts the unfortunate lunatic out of his misery. Tempest, astride Stormcloud, advances into the room, followed by Varta. The dwarven maiden, seeing her target already taken care of and thus her witty one-liner wasted, steps up through the torturing table and a stool to let her blade fall onto the last remaining derro.
As the unnatural darkness dissipates, the five heroes can notice a few lunatics, who were watching from the hallway cheering for the most violent blows, turn on their heels and go off into the dungeon laughing and screaming. ______________________________
The derros black smiles hideously widen as one of them retracts the bloody knife from Mavro’s side. It is not malice nor hatred: it is pure insane joy they seem to feel in inflicting pain and suffering.
His kin, bloodied by Mavro’s staff, screams not in panic but in mad obsession “Kill this one! Kill him and you can have his fingers!”. The Pathfinder’s wand misses its target, and both the remaining derro and the last of the lunatics hack at the old man with their blades. While the inmate lacks any kind of coordination to be a believable threat, the first plunges his blade through a hole in Mavro’s armor, once again drawing blood from a painful wound under the armpit. ______________________
The first screaming lunatic quickly falls under Varta’s merciless blade. Xander’s and Tempest’s incantations have no effect for the moment, meanwhile Milo vaults over the other inmate and moves into the room; Mavro follows with slower but no less determinate stride. The pale, bug-eyed little humanoid stays in front of the old magus, menacing scalpel in his bloodied hand. His insane, way-too-wide smile made of blackened teeth becomes much less menacing once Mavro’s staff removes a good half dozen of said teeth.
The still unharmed derro growls something, and suddenly the room darkens. Varta, the only one can make out clearly what is going on, sees the two derro maneuver to get on Mavro's opposite flanks, and one strikes at the magus with what looks more like a butcher knife than a scalpel. The blade gets past the quarterstaff’s guard and cuts deep just above the hip. ________________________
The door is unlocked, and when Milo pushes they open with a chilling, rusty scream. The sight of the chamber they used to hide is yet another in a cascade of horrors that this place has revealed. The grisly room is quite obviously a torture chamber: equipped with a stretching rack, an iron maiden and dangling iron cages; to the southeast there is a fire pit, and three empty cages to the north. Bent on the stretching rack, standing on stools, are two small humanoids with pale gray skin and white hair, elbow deep in the ribcage of what looks like the corpse an inmate. As they hear you opening the door, one the them turns, and you all can see the vein of madness in his eyes. One of them speaks, revealing a bulbous tongue and blackened teeth “ Dad-a kanako ang ilang mga panit, ug ang imong mahimo sa pagbantay sa inyo usa pa ka adlaw! ”
Aklo:
“Bring me their skin and you can keep yours one more day! ” knowledge (local or dungeons) DC 13:
These two are derros. Known inhabitants of the under-ground, these two most likely live in the complex dungeon system below Carrion Hill. The whole race share a sadistic form of madness and is generally shunned by any sane individual. They are known for their delight in stabbing and inflicting pain. knowledge (local or dungeons) DC 18:
Derros are resistant to magic, and their madness sometimes manifests in spontaneous magical powers, mostly darkness or deception-related. At the horrific humanoid’s command answer two lunatics, with freshly stitched wounds on their bodies, and showing more than a few patches of each other’s skin sewn in place of their own. A Varisian lunatic grabs a bonesaw with an arm showing a large patch of pearly-white Chelaxian skin.
________________________
Still befuddled and horrified at the madness of the Keepers, the five companions get to the stairs leading down, in the grim dungeon below the Asylum. A firm bash to the head is enough to knock out the two screaming lunatics chained to the stairwell. The five head down the flight of stairs, to find themselves standing on the same deep green stone tiles that paved the floor above. Walls and ceiling in the dungeon are raw and less polished, but not less sturdy, than above. The air feels damp, and the iron doors are showing clear signs of rust, much more so than the ground floor. The sound of pounding rain disappears, leaving place to a faint dripping of infiltration, coupled of course with the mad cackling of the inmates. The five heroes find themselves in a dimly lit walkhall, large enough to allow two men comfortably side by side. Hallways depart in all directions. Maniacal laughter, cries of pain, screams, and off-key singing echo from the north and south hallways–long, narrow and dirty passages hosting numberless cell doors. Mostly they're closed, but a few wide open.
Perception on the western doors, DC 15:
Listening carefully to this door reveals only the now sadly familiar sounds of inmates grisly enjoying their freedom.
Minute slowly follows minute for the four of you, keeping watch in the creepy and sinister Asylum while Xander buries his head in the Manuscripts, with a little help from some texts in Crove’s library to better understand the knowledge within. During this hour, nothing comes to disturb the five heroes: from time to time a lunatic can be heard running in the halls screaming madly, or singing a terrifyingly gory and graphic nursery rhyme. Still, the unfortunate madmen aren’t a real threat, and provide no inconvenience other than the occasional startling scream in the silence. Meanwhile, Xander is thoroughly sifting through the book, absorbing the knowledge. The focus of the book itself does not concern anything too maddening or scary: mostly, it talks about eldritch travel, portals, and conjuration magic in general. Incredibly complex schemes and formulae are dis-seminated through the text, formulae could probably be sold to a skilled wizard for a good amount. All of these spells seem to concern magical travel, both planar and mundane. Make a Spellcraft check and roleplay what you can get of this spoiler:
The following spells can be found in the book gate, greater teleport, greater planar binding, interplanetary teleport, lesser planar binding, planar binding, plane shift, teleport, teleport object, teleportation cir-cle. Several red silk bookmarks can be found in different sections which, read and put together, provide a lengthy analysis about how some rituals can be performed to open portals to key locations. The Keepers of the Oldest (most annotations are in the same thin, spidery handwriting that can be seen on Crove’s documents in the office) planned on using this rituals in the Sunless Grove, to contact a “spawn of the Dark Tapestry” and further enhance their knowledge of forbidden magic and arcane secrets. A section near the end cautions those who would attempt this ritual, warning that forcing open such portals draws forth the spiritual essence of the casters, and that any entity contacted by the portal can make “hideous use of this essence by consuming it, growing
This sends a shiver down Xander’s spine as he beings to make sense of what’s happening: the creature’s essence is bound to that of its summoners. By consuming them, it grows stronger. Still, should the summoners be killed by an external source, the beast's link to this world would weaken, and its strength wane.
Incoherent babble, indeed. The Aklo language does not share the Taldan nor the Thassilonian alphabet, and Mavro is unable to undertand even where the sentences start and end.
Oh, yeah. That was something I noticed before. 4 casters and no one with comprehend languages. Peachy. The book is written in Aklo, which only Xander knows. And he doesn't want to read the book. Fantastic. We have 3 options here:
While Varta sifts through the room, vigilant to every possible evil emanation, nothing gets outlined to her vision. Given the nature of the place you are, it is likely something shady has been done here, but nothing so powerful to leave a lingering aura. Luckily or not, it there were aligned items, they have been removed.
While Stormcloud is thoroughly puzzled by the flacon of herbal antiseptic shattered on the floor, which is seriously messing with his sense of smell, the adventurers’ research fares better. The books are in the veins of those found in the dungeon below the site of the first attack: and several holes in the library reveal that those books once resided here. In particular, a glass display case is empty, the dust upon it showing signs of fingertips: it seems likely that this was the place for the Pnakotic Manuscripts. Some volumes are about eldritch portals and eerie beings supposedly living beyond the stars; others are simple astronomy tomes, but you get the feeling that, should you need more information about what’s going on, the best source is already in your possession. Xander discovers another secret in the room: a false bottom in one of the drawers hides a polished and slender tube, about a foot long and less than an inch thick. It seems to be made of hematite, and there is a fine chiseled motive uncoiling down the length of the cylinder, depicting an overtly long serpent’s tongue. detect magic + Spellcraft DC 20: It is a wand of suggestion (CL 5th, DC 14, 9/50 charges), activated by the Aklo words for “listen carefully”
The heavy double doors softly open, revealing the interior of Crove’s office. This is perhaps the first pleasant room of the building. The walls, painted of a somber beige, are free of humidity stains and mold. A fireplace still holds a few red-hot embers sleeping under a thick crust of ash, and a few chandeliers light the room almost properly. A heavy wooden desk with many drawers is covered by books and sheets of paper left in disarray; a quill is now glued into the solidified content of the inkpot.
Armed with determination and courage, the dwarven maiden, the young rascal from Ustalav, the old and grumpy Pathfinder, the stormtouched halfling and the haunted nobleman keep exploring the ground floor of the Asylum. Rain keeps drumming on the barred windows, and the flickering light of candles does little to cheer up the pale, mold-stained green walls. The steps of the five adventur-ers are covered by the noise of the escaped lunatics: every once in a while, a room hosts a small group of these deranged souls, who either hide in panic under the furniture or carelessly hurl them-selves at the adventurers, armed with chair legs or broken glass, and inevitably meet their end. A medical library, a lecture room, a guest room are some of the chambers encoutered: nothing out of place in a medical facility. Other than these madmen, the asylum seems desert: the dormitory of the orderlies reveals eight beds, just enough for the eight brutes who met you at the entrance. Searching through their posses-sions you can see they lived barely better than the inmates: and the smell that comes from the kitchen is revolting. After a good half-hour spent searching through the place, only two doors are left: Crove’s study, where the brass plaque makes a good show of itself, and the twin doors leading downstairs, where the madmen have been chained.
As Xander watches the pitiful being cry in a grotesque way, Mavro step forward and puts an end to the poor madman’s misery. A heavy hit with the staff upon the man’s neck, a loud CRACK! and he is no more among the living. He collapses on the ground, with his previous partner and the man they both killed. The room the old Pathfinder find himself in is most likely a laundry room. The awful stench of blood, corpses and loose bowels can’t fully cover the smell of cheap chemical soap, and in a corner can be seen a huge pile of bedsheets and simple beige scrubs. The rest of the Asylum awaits the heroes, an Asylum that seems to get more horrific with every room that gets opened.
After a quick trust from Milo, Mavro's staff crushes the lunatic's cranium in a gory and messy fashion. The body collapses on the ground instantly, like a rag doll. In the far corner of the room, the second lunatic holds tight to his chest the severed foot and fingers he won at "cards" and screams in panic "Nooo! I won fairensquare! Don't take my winnings!"
Milo opens the door, and immediately regrets it as he stands still for a couple of seconds, paralyzed by the horror.
This grabs something and throws it at the first. It takes Milo a second to realize that said “some-thing” where two human fingers, taken from a corpse the second madman is keeping next to him. “New players!” screams the first madman. His insane, wide smile turns immediately to anger and fear “They’re gonna take my winnings!” he folds the scraps of paper and holds close to his chest, like a baby would hold a teddy bear, a grisly collection of bloody body parts. “There’s no room for you in our game!” screams the second, and faster than Milo’s reaction, he gets up and runs at the rogue, trying to hack at him with a bonesaw. ______________
Usually, after a battle, the echoes of the fight fade away, leaving a peaceful, if tense, silence.
Mavro leans in to the iron door, and among the shrikes he can make out that something grisly is going on in the room next to him. He hears hysteric, high-pitched laughs and the gut-wrenching sound of a saw grinding against bone. By leaning towards the door next to him, Milo is able to notice that these doors seem much better off than the others: polished bronze studs decorate the much less rusty and even shiny double iron doors. No sound seems to be coming from the room, but on the wall to the left makes a good show of itself a brass plaque.
Perception DC 15 for Xander and Varta: The two doors right next to you () seem, much like the main entrance, not really closed but just ajar. By leaning in towards the opening, a rattling sound of chains and maniacal singing greet you: seems safe to assume other lunatics have been chained in these rooms.
Beaten and wounded by numerous attacks he didn’t care to avoid, the orderly falls to his knees “Lemme go… jus' lemme go...” he keeps murmuring, getting up once again and slowly staggering south. Now that the heat of battle has faded, his babbling echoes through the sickly walls of the asylum, and the trail of blood he leaves behind falls upon numerous others stains, now dried, stains that speak of disease and violence.
Hit hard on the shoulders by Varta, the orderly barely takes a second to howl in pain before resuming his effort "Agh! Lemme go, stupid thiefs!" he tosses his club in the general direction of Varta, not really an attack, more like a man tossing an old boot to a meowing cat in the night.
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It doesn’t take much for Mavro and Varta to take down their opponent. The caged helmet is shat-tered by the old man’s staff, then the dwarf swings her blade at the now exposed neck, severing the orderly’s head neatly. In death, the man keeps the same empty stare he had in life. By contrast, Milo lightly skewers his opponent. The last orderly, dumbed and mindless as he looks, still realizes he is doomed “Boss gonna be mad! Thieves bash us!” he looks around, club in front of himself more as shield than a weapon. Finally he seems to reach a decision “Don’t wanna make boos mad! Get away!” he screams, and darts against Milo, trying to push him away. However the young rogue is way quicker, and while he fails to pierce the padded armor, the point of his rapier seems to dissuade the orderly from his intent. “Oh, boss gonna bash me!” he cries, apparently more worried about his boss than the five armed people who just killed seven of his peers. _______________
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