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Herbert takes this opportunity to pull Reed aside. He attempts to pass the gist of the plan to Reed without Gribb noticing.
The plan unfolds in Reed's ear. The last line Herbert drives home...So all this subterfuge will assure that his reactions will be genuine.
Anyone care to wager what an Osirionologist would do to keep the Pharasmans from banning her return to any tombs? What about someone who kills cats as warnings? Herbert looks at Gribb then back at Fenlin. I have an idea. If we can trust the staff not to remove our loot, go get your brother. He's going to love this plan... Fenlin's nod of assurance sets the cleric in motion. As Gribb takes stairs two at a time Herbert leans into Isis and Fenlin. His smile threatens to dissolve the whispers. Isis: Gribb's brother Reed is constantly giving him a hard time. I think we should use that. If we make the priest seem like a useless limb sewed on by the Pharasmans, Fenlin here can remain breathing and prosperous. Reed will love it. What do you think Isis? While we are intown should we treat Gribb like an unwelcome overseer?
Herbert walks his way to the cleanest bartender this side of the Sphinx. Time to talk barman. Two of the strong stuff I've seen you keeping on the side Fenlin. One here and one in your stomach. Isis is concerned that her reputation may be blemished if you assume she works for someone who could scare a man like you. She is young and not in league with any such people. The real question is why you think she is....well?
While Mr Jaffur has treated me better than any stowaway should be, I am ready to live life without a patron. The sooner we get him anything he can focus on rather than my little boat ride, the better. Herbert dusts himself and nearly chokes on the cloud of sand. The dust and sun makes him sneeze. He reaches intinctively for the kerchief that he carried in his tailoring days. He finds only a smile of remembrance and a good feeling about abandoning that life. Herbert shoulders his pack. As he turns toward Wati's living districts he sees Reed and Gribb doing the same. Back to the Tooth and Hookah, Isis?
Herbert sees Reed straighten up. The resolve to slay the sand monster registers in Reed's eyes. The change in state brings a burst of confidence to Herbert. His mace flashes out toward the Sandling.
The Sandling feels Herbert's wrath!
Herbert turns toward Gribb. Give me your mace and keep us alive. Herbert's tone rest somewhere between an order and a plea. He turns with his newly found bludgeon and strikes out, careful not to slip on the dropped rapier at his feet.
The new weapon is unbalanced compared to the exquisite sword Herbert carries. The swing is wide of the Sandling.
Herbert thrusts at the serpent.
He feels the point dig home. The sand's response is surprisingly flesh-like. Herbert can feel the quivering up the thin blade of his rapier.
Herbert rushes forward, drawing his sword clear of its scabbard.
The thrust passes through the thin mist of sand left where the serpent had been. Herbert feels the sting of hundreds of sandy missiles on his hand.
Herbert turns toward the taller Ranger and smiles a tired grin. I nearly fainted from the pain. These vermin put up a fight because they nest here. Herbert gestures toward the alter with his rapier then replaces the sword in the scabbard on his left hip. The far corner of the alter is hollowed out. Crumbling stone loosely fills the gap between the alter and the eastern wall. Can I see that glowing bullet Gribb?
Herbert leaps onto the stone alter and advances.
The high ground allows him to strike down at his opponent.
The rapier tip emerges through the mouth of the solifugid. Isis and Reed have a full view of the mandibles dying grasps, clutching the steel from the inside.
Herbert uses his sword and speed to target the side of the solifugid. It's fuzzy carapace an inviting nest for the tip of his rapier.
Die!
The thrust slides through the outer armor of the creature and finds arteries and organs. Herbert twists and withdraws the tip of his sword. The blood pours from the wound. The back six legs of the creature give out and it falls to the tomb floor.
Herbert's rapier darts and flashes.
The creature repeats its feat of parrying Herbert's strikes. That things needs to die.
Blood! Herbert has finally wounded the surprisingly strong creature.
Herbert flashes past Gribb and Isis. The pain in his knee is gone. He springs off the stone alter and attempts to tumble behind the solifugid.
Herbert stops his momentum and lunges at the creature from his new position.
Herbert strikes at his opponent. The intent of his attack is to purchase a few more seconds to deal with the stabs of lightning flowing from his recently rend knee.
The strike is weak. Herbert's legs provided no power. Gribb, I need more healing magic unless we can end this soon!
Herbert scuttles into the space occupied by Isis.
Herbert registers the pain that explodes from his left knee. He nearly vomits. The vermin's claw has shattered his kneecap, another strike has spun half of it to the back of his leg. He stands on his right leg. Any movement would surely result in collapse. The pain is extraordinary.
Herbert pulls his rapier. The weapon is starting to feel familiar to him despite being a relatively recent addition. A thought occurs as he closes on the solifugid on the south side of the room. If my life is to depend on this blade I better spend some time with it. His lunge targets the eyes of the solifugid.
The point of his thin and perfectly balanced blade rushes the vermin's eyes. The solifugid bats the blade away and it flies wide, the maneuver as effective as any parry. Herbert awaits the critter's riposte.
Herbert holds his torch near one of the jackal heads. As the light source approaches the cradle designed for torches, the eyes of the jackals cast an eerie light. That's unsettling.
Take a moment and rest Isis. That was quite a show. I'd expected a welt to rise. Herbert walks to both doors, taking time to listen and check the doors hinges. The doors are slightly ajar... Isis, you're a bit of a naturalist, right? Check out these marks here.
Herbert helps Isis to her feet, offering a reassuring smile. No traps on the doors.
Hold! Herbert's voice is commanding. The mirror worries him. As a tailor he'd spent hours in front of mirrors. This one felt wrong.
Herbert swings his torch in the direction of the Construct
The torch woofs through the air where the little bastard had been.
Herbert steps into the melee with his rapier drawn. The sword started life on the hip of a powerful man. Now Herbert hoped to slay a thousand year dormant guardians with the honed steel.
His sword is turned by the shield the tiny Warrior carries. Not just decorative!
I can light a torch to keep with us, but Gribb is right. I've never had talent with cantrips. Herbert unshoulders his pack and looks at Isis. Well, should I find a torch?
The chest in front of Herbert is beautiful. Many hours of skilled labor made the wood shine, the carvings of traditional Osirion scenes the work of a master. The device on the lock mechanism is equal in beauty to Herbert. His skilled hands admired the carefully located triggers that would send a blade into the unprepared hand. The gnome was lucky to spot the trap; probably something she'd encountered in her studies. I wonder where she studied and why?
Herbert draws the door open. Lying before him is a large chamber containing a chariot.
Treasure! Herbert scans the floor for trapped stones or anything else unordinary.
I'll take the north door Isis. Good thing the Cleric came to terms early on. His stance could've been a problem later.
I recognize several of these symbols and some of the form. I think his family died of a tragedy...see this is disease or death. This means untimely...Does that make sense with what you know of the symbols Isis?
Herbert stares at the tapestry. There's something here..
Herbert takes his spot in front, pausing long enough to snatch a dart from an unseen recess in the carving. One of these in the ribs would've been a poor way to start. He brings the dart closer to the glowing bullet. No poison, but rusty and nasty none the less.
It takes a while for Herbert to see it. He feels embarrassed that the flagstones evaded his view. How'd I miss this? It is pretty simple. Let me see about getting this deactivated. Everyone stand back please.
Herbert scans area for traps.
In a low whisper Herbert relays his findings:
He moves slowly away from the body. Something about the way those legs bent unnerves the rogue.
Herbert sets forward as Reed and Gribb ready their weapons. The light from the bullet reflects of the newly drawn steel.
Careful of the body.
I think Mr. Jaffur expects me to undertake some of these risky endeavors. I owe him a second chance, so no reason to delay. Herbert starts to strip himself on anything extra...he unloads a suprising amount of gear secreted about his person. Isis, please send my gear down second. I'd rather not fall on a bag of knives, but being in the crypt without all my resources is not wise either. His one request made, Herbert finishes with the knots and secures his rope on the piton in the corner. The rope extends nearly down to the glowing bullet. It smacks the smooth stone walls of the shaft until it settles into the middle.
Herbert moves toward the beast hoping to catch an opening and avoid that stinger.
The scorpion dodges and turns to face the new threat. Isis your bomb did a number to it's other side. The damn thing is charred crisp but still attacking!
Rahaah Kuaha Herbert spits and sputters. His eyes stung by the gusting sand.
Herbert makes his way through the sand up to the doors. What do we have?
I wish we had a few more days like today, but it is sweeter for the rarity. Good night Obsidian Marketers.
Hey Isis I am going to find a wand that can be used to heal us. Do you mind carrying it or should I hand it off to Gribb?
Herbert's mouth gapes. He takes the offered waterskin from Reed. The cool water and moment to gather himself are not enough to form a legitimate response. Another drink and he passes the waterskin back to Reed. Finally a thought replaces the shock at the wealth of knowledge the gnome had presented. So do these tombs have traps? I've heard that grave robbing was a major concern and many of these tombs are trapped to the seventh hell.
What do you know of tombs in general Isis? I would imagine an Osirionologist has to spend time researching such things. Herbert seems as relaxed as anyone in the group. His lips and nose are still cracked, but his spirit seems well off.
Herbert looks amazed. His face is alight with wonder.
His voice cracks at the last, but he gathers himself and pushes on... I swore to give him back what I lost. Mr. Jaffur is giving me that opportunity and I plan on getting it done well.
The ale in front of Herbert has been skillfully nursed. But round after round of bread and cheese has made its way into his mouth. The food is standard fare; Herbert has never had better. GRRGRR Herbert grins and excuses his loud stomach. It is time I turn in. Oddly enough Mr. Jaffur has been responsible for my sleeping quarters for a few weeks now. These are much nicer and I plan to take advantage of the comfort. Goodnight.
Herbert considers it before nodding. That actually rolls off of the tongue.
Herbert scowls. That's aweful The "Persuasive Outsiders" sounds much better.
Oh, I will sign. I've got an idea that my other options are less appealing. I've never been able to bargain once the deal has been struck. At least I'm not swimming. Herbert rises to join Isis. One thought races through his mind.
What are we going to call ourselves? We'll need an official name for the contract.
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