Horgus's page

"See? I told you we should come back for them. Just get me home, then you can come back here. No need to leave *ME* of course, I'm perfectly fine. Healthy as a *cough* horse!" Horgus argues, but in the end decides staying... to guard the others...is in his, uh, their, best interest.

"What? What's going on?" Horgus mutters as he moves up with the others.

"*Harrumph!* Though there's no sin in being comfortable, Kastor!" Horgus adds, turning in circles as if looking for the boy, before winking widely at Eli.

"Better to use the light later than waste it now. You afraid of the dark? You should be. Where did our squirrels go? Looking for walnuts? The bread will taste better that way."

"Hah! You've a lot of nerve, calling other people squirrels! But you know, I wouldn't mind so much if we were traveling so... slowly - and picking up every lost or broken soul along the way!"

Horgus grumbles as he moves with the others. "Surely we have more light than we're using? I don't think it's safe to trudge around in the dark!"

Looking over the cleansed Temple, Horgus sighs. "I suppose now you're going to want to reconsecrate the place?"

Coming back inside, he asks for time to take a short rest. "Horgus, it was a sad showing. We are poorly prepared to overcome undead fortified with evil like that priest. I would request some moments to pray on what has occurred and fortify us for what may come."

"Yes, well... err, I suppose, for prayer." Somewhat gruffly, Horgus nonetheless leaves Grasker to his prayer.

Horgus catches Aravashnyel before he can run into anyone. He grunts and glares after Anevia, grumbling beneath his breath. "Well! Not well done. Not well done at all. I suppose we'll have to rest here now?!?"

"Well, I, for one, appreciate them going to scout a safe way out of here. When we're back, I'll reward you all properly." The puffs up a bit, swinging his dagger to practice. It *has* been a very long time, from the looks of it.

"Still, I'm not sure of the wisdom of slowing us down with a man that tried to kill us. Or worse!"

Horgus's brow knits and his mouth works as he takes the rope from the gnome.

"Yes well, ehhh. I suppose we'll have to do that." The man stalks up to Grasker and trades rope for the dagger. "What will we do with him, then? Surely we can't take care of yet another one."

"Might anyone have a rapier? I could do more than baby sit if I had one. I'm afraid mine must have gotten lost in the fall!"

"Grasker? Grass! Are you up there? What do you see, man! Are we almost there yet? Have you found the blasted squire? I think our poor knight may be on the verge of losing it." Horgus whispers loudly into the darkening space between the two groups. Ahead, the shapes of Cole and Grasker are barely visible as they continue forward.

"No, I don't think I recognize that. The copper looks... well, different somehow, doesn't it?! But it does look like it ought to mean something." Unfortunately, none of you seem to recognize the emblem, though it does seem like a symbol or heraldry of some sort, primitive as it might be.

Horgus trudges along with the others, complaining occasionally about...well, more or less everything. "I just need to get home. If you get me home, I'll pay you handsomely, I promise. I just need to get out of this hole."

Grasker's calm persuasion, in the native accent, is enough to calm Horgus and lead him back to you. "You're native, aren't you, Grasker? I think I knew your parents."

Yay! Grasker moves Horgus one step closer to "not horrible to deal with".

Jurin sighs.

"No maggot teeth for you then. Don't worry, when you finally remember you're dead and stop moving, the maggots will be waiting. Then they can be flies and you can fly. Until they poop. Then you'll be what you are again."

** spoiler omitted **

"Why you dirty dretch-faced tourist! We do not have to stand for this! Zeff! We're leaving! Let's go!" The plump politician sets his jaw and begins to head in whatever direction the party isn't.

***

Horgus

"You can't return to your life, you lost it down here with the grubs and spiders. Unless you're a butterfly? Maybe you can fly again. I can't fly, not yet. Maybe if we take these maggot teeth we can turn into flies that fly?"

"I think the fall has rattled this one's brain's loose! Maybe it would be better if those of us that can, hurry ahead to uh, send help back." He eyes Aravashnyel, Anevia, and Jurin with a growing distaste clear on his face.

"Slow is better than stop, so you're a sight better than most here, I gather." Eli smiles reassuringly.

[dice=Diplomacy]1d20+7

"Harrumph! Some of us have things to do! Lawful lives to get back to! Isn't that the right of it, Zeff? We locals need to be on our way." the rotund man shoots a worried glance upwards towards his home town.

"Zeff! Good shot! Don't let them come this way, Zeff! I'm an important man with important things to do. You have to get me out of here!"

Horgus wrote:

"Look here! I'm bleeding, can't you see it? And here, on my face. I can't help thinking that a Zeff would be more observant. Even your father was pretty observant, in his day." Looking him over, Cole does see several scrapes. None appear to be too deep, though.

Cole checks his injuries over carefully and when he's assured it's nothing serious, he says so. "You're injuries are not serious. You'll be fine. Here, get up and stretch - you'll feel better."

Cole moves off then a few feet to give Horgus, and himself, some room. He leans into Grasker, "It's going to be a long day me thinks."

"Wait! Where are you going?!? You need to get me home! I've several major transactions that need my oversight! Get me back to my holdings and I'll pay you good gold!"

Sighing, Cole leans over to help Horgus. "Now, where are you hurt?"

He ignores the shiny, bellowing out for all to hear a mile away.

"Look here! I'm bleeding, can't you see it? And here, on my face. I can't help thinking that a Zeff would be more observant. Even your father was pretty observant, in his day." Looking him over, Cole does see several scrapes. None appear to be too deep, though.

"Wait! You there with the light! You're a Zeff, aren't you? You've got the stamp of your father about you! There's nothing to be done about that, I guess, but at least your local! Come help me, I'm injured!" The man, older, well fed nearly to the point of corpulence, and well dressed even beneath the dust and dirt, flaps his arms.