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Hank uses the momentum of Dilvio's push to try and scramble out of the way of the falling bookcase. He charges around the room trying to line up another shot, but, as an emanate man of science, he can -smell- Silvio concentrating hard on the book in front of him. He catches a glimpse of the shown diagram, but he can't see enough of it by himself to get any data. As Hank dodges falling books and flailing golem, he calls out to Silvio. "Does the diagram have anything with what looks like two parallel lines? That would be a capacitor! If we can nail that, we might have a chance!"
"Oh balls here we go again." Like a sequel that didn't get as much attention that it deserved, and left multiple plot hooks unanswered and a few interesting new characters without nearly as much time as they deserved, time slows down, the room seems to rotate, and Hank falls back in slow motion while shooting at the huge dictionary-filled fist coming at him!
As the rest of the team seems to flounder, Hank rejoices in his destruction of the attacking books, and, unaware of the tottering bookcase, decides to do take off the kid gloves. "Alright, I've done all I can to avoid this, but it seems we have no choice." He sets his Molec-o-tron on "Agitate" and aims a wide-beam of microwaves at the golem, trying to set it on fire!
Hank turns, "Why are we saying Lockd--" but his voice is cut off as part of the books take on a mind of their own. "Oh, great, this is just great! I'd say something like 'can't we go back to fighting the ghouls' but I have a feeling we've not seen the last of them, so I won't bother." Hank takes a few steps back and launches a few shots with his Zero Canon.
Hank nods at Fleet, but his gratitude at being saved quickly turns to revulsion as the necromancer practices his art.
Hank busies himself with a book--any book-- to veil his eyes and keep his mind busy as the sickening sounds of the vile necromancer's servant fill the room. Hank, too, wonders 'What should I be on the lookout for?'
...but the sickening sounds of fingers of un-life working at once comely eye sockets disturb him too greatly to find anything of value.
As the lady disappears, Hank frowns and starts fidgeting with the Config-u-tron. After a moment of turning dials and pushing buttons, his face lights. "Ah-ha! If I adjudicate the photons, then everyone NOT invisible should be quite fine.
A circle of green-blue bursts from the device, sending ripples of distorted photons all over the room.
Hank spins on John, unsure of how the world suddenly turned upside down. "And??? Did she hide her smell as well as her sight? And what of her sound? To stand motionless in a room is one thing. To sneak by a full score of meandering eat-kill nature machines in a cramped confinement is quite another! And how she turn invisible? Is that even a thing??"
Hank stares at Roman agape, wondering how things got so off-track.
We didn't see you come in, so you either have another way in here, or you just shadow-walked past 8-freekin-billion ghouls. So let's have it lady!"
Hank doesn't lower his weapon. 'Good day to you, ma'am. I'd offer you a chair, but we seem to be out of those. I'd offer you some tea, but, again, fresh out. So too we have neither crumpets nor kringle, but we do have a whole peck of flesh-eating monstrosities guarding the only way out of this place, and I'm guessing that you know something that we don't so please do start TALKING RIGHT NOW about how you are invisible, why you were observing us, and what exactly you know about the island." Hank keeps breathing deeply, unsure if this is a friend or foe.
Hank, fresh empty on his sense of humor, chrarges up his Zero Cannon. "So it seems that there's nothing here! So, if I point this deadly weapon right THERE," he points the cannon at the last set of footprints, "then I'm sure that NOTHING will happen. Unless someone wanted to, say, STOP SCREWING AROUND and present some new evidence to stop me!"
Finding the passageway once again plunged into darkness, Hank twists a single dial on the Molecular Manipulator. The end of it begins to glow and emit a trace amount of heat. "Eh? What's that? Roman and Amy are to be married? Well congratulations then, good sir! I admit, that would explain a great, great deal. Have you picked a day yet? I have some experimental lighting arrangements that have been just begging for a chance to shine."
Hank rapidly gets up from where he was messing with and cursing at his contraption. He runs straight for the door, but then suddenly stops. "But...but, how do we know that there aren't just more ghouls down there? How do we know what will happen next???"
The thought gets derailed as more ghouls throw rocks and loudly gnash their teeth as they close on him. "Ah well, I'm sure it's perfectly saaaaaafffffe....." he yells, disappearing into the darkness.
A rock the size of a fist strikes Hank across the forehead, opening a nasty gash. Hank shakes a fist the size of a rock at the offending ghoul. Then he realizes that Silvio is sorely besieged. "Have no fear, Silvio. THIS will stop them!" Hank razes his Zero Cannon and cranks not one but -several- nobs up to their apparent maximum. The coils spin and an etheric blue energy buzzes around the exterior. If you listen hard enough, you swear you hear a rising crescendo of trumpets in the background. He cries triumphantly, "Watch this!"
As the energy dissipates and the device no longer shows signs of life, Hank starts yelling "No no nononono no no NO!" Then he wanders to the back of the chamber and sits down, apparently messing with several nobs. You swear you can hear him cursing something called a 'flux capacitor' and how he 'never should have trusted' that 'crazy old man'.
Hank looks worried as the ghouls charge Amy's barrier in a group. "Oh dear. I shall have to try the SCIENCE again." He extracts another of his explosives and tries to catch another group of ghouls in it's blast radius.
Unfortunately in his his hurry to try and eliminate the ghouls, he was completely oblivious to the impending danger of the rock-thrower.
Hank is pelted by a stray left femur and a pair of loose buttocks, but he is otherwise unaffected as he gets up and dusts himself off. He comes back to the group and admires his handiwork, nodding in satisfaction. "Are we quite certain that there is no other way out of this oubliette? 'Twould seem that any way back would be easier than this way forward. Still, we have the advantage of archers behind a moat facing de-limbed infantry. If you have ranged weapons, then by all means employ them and mayhap we can rid the planet of this horde of flesh-eaters for all time!" Hank raises his Zero canon and aims at the nearest ghoul still moving.
Huh. I guess I never read the Bag of Explosives carefully enough. I thought they were an item I could use three times. But no, I'm actually an archer, with three ammo of a Near ranged weapon to use in Volley. Ok. That makes sense now. Wait, that means that roll would've been +1 for DEX, not +2 for INT since it isn't technically a use of a Gadget. Alright.
"We'll, Gentlemen, and Lady, it has been an honor. I never thought I'd die in an ancient underground cavern consumed by zombies, but I suppose if you have to go, that would be one of the top options. I wish you all the best, until we meet again. In the next life. ... However, there is one better way to die, and that is by SCIENCE. Fleet, I apologize but this may consume your pet. I regret the loss, but I hope you can replace it. That is, if you can find enough parts. I've been working on a little project, and I believe the proper term for it is... dynamite. I need quiet, please." Hank gets one of his Explosives out from his pack. He carefully arranges the small red package, lights the fuse, and aims for the rear of the ghoul hoard. Once it's lit, he throws it as hard as he can. "You May want to run. And duck." Having said that, Hank does that. He runs as far back as he can, then drops prone to the ground.
Hank titters. "Ha! Well, you see, if you look at this passage, it looks like she's bending ov--" Hank suddenly notices Amy's attention and coughs twice. "Ahem. Erm, ah, I mean, it, ah, nothing. Nothing at all. I, ah, am not familiar with these "Churlish" peoples to which you refer. So, I, ah, I can not really grab, um, I mean, snatch, UM, I mean, discern, to the thrust, um, I mean, heart, ah, of the matter." Hank turns beet red and seems utterly fascinated by an intangible quark on the wall.
Hank takes a heretofore unused gadget from his breast pocket, hits two dials and three buttons, and a small light bursts forth from it. He peers intently at the wall carvings out of pure academic curiosity, and tries to make sense from them.
He keeps trying to discern their intent, but a part of his mind just keeps thinking that, looked at the right angel, they look like naughty pictures, and he's not really able to focus on them.
"Ah," says Hank, now bothering to glance upward to take in the lighthouse. "Ummmmm, if if if, ahhhhhh, um....I don't...ah...I don't -quite- believe that the...ah...the infrastructure of the thing is, technically, "complete". And even if it were, it appears to be the cornerstone of the village. If we could occupy it, and get it running (neither of which are certain) wouldn't they take offense at our intrusion and lay siege to the thing? It might take some few days to attract a proper ship, and in that time, even if we can resist their force of arms, we might suffer for want of foodstuffs. I fear that so long as the cannibals remain in their current posture, we have few options. Can we not parlay with them? I do not mean in the normal sense, but, I could put on quite the pyrotechnic display. Then, their primitive minds in awe of superior technology, perhaps we can arrange a trade? Wherein we could barter somehow for a chance to use (and fix) the lighthouse for a period of time? I regret being the black bird of despair here, but Roman has a good plan about using the light house, it simply needs some logistical support."
Hank moves over to the cleric. "Patience, dear Amy. We have promises to keep, and miles to go before we sleep. You may hang back and relax if you wish, but there is work afoot, and mayhap dirty work at that."
Hank still doesn't really know what's going on, especially with respect to the village, so he'll give his voice over to watching the village to gather data. If that helps them makes their choice, or makes another choice more clear, then all the better. He does however go off by himself for a bit to recharge before going the group in the hidey-hole.
Hank nods along with the plan, but then voices some concerns. "Um, there seem to be...-many- assumptions there. What if they notice that we still have all our weapons? Won't their first action be to take away our swords and my gear? How is being brought before a chef, after garnering a lot of attention from the village, a better time for dashing to the boats than right away? Perhaps if the plan were modified, but more direct? What if we all loop ropes around our wrists, as in the first phase, but we just have your zombie march us straight to the boats? We go there directly for as long as possible, and when the jig is up, the zombie plays rear-guard and we just run? Sure, we'll have a few villagers in our way, but at least half the village might still remain ignorant of our ever having been there? As opposed to giving them time to rouse themselves and concentrate their numbers around 'dinner'. Not the best plan, to be sure, but it allows us to remain masters of our own destiny! Indeed...or we could wait until night and just sneak in if our only goal is a boat. Just a thought."
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