Certainly Old Chap
:)
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Removing the charred remains of his shirt to reveal a well-muscled chest enhanced by a unified pattern of tribal tattoo's of thins swirls, incongruous with the general appearance of the nobleman. He stands over Hinzackle, now glued to the floor. "I take it Sylvia, you can release this glue? For I'd hate to have to pry the floorboards up to move him."
Jerry rises from the floor, with a very grateful smile to Caladrel and his mystical powers. "Thank you, we'll need to find another of those if we end up alight so often." He smiles as he looks down at his ruined clothing. Then walking over to the professor, he stands a shadowy shape above her; "What's this? To whom taught you this, or where did you study such weirdness." He asks ensuring that he can grab her arms to stop the scholar from harming herself, but not laying a hand on her yet.
Despite rolling on the floor, Jerry pauses for a second. "Don't kill the deluded professor! Think of the students!"
Too busy with the continuing fire than engulfs him, Jerry continues to roll on the floor. However it's all for naught and the alchemical fire of the professors really seems to have caught hold - however what it makes up in persistence it lacks in ferocity, thus the opposites of Sylvia's accidents.
A character on fire may automatically extinguish the flames by jumping into enough water to douse himself. If no body of water is at hand, rolling on the ground or smothering the fire with cloaks or the like permits the character another save with a +4 bonus.
Jerry sweeps at the amorphous creature as it oozes past him, the smoke from his own burning clothes get in his eyes and the dull pain of the heat slow his senses. Before him the Professor seems to glow with electricity and Jerry suddenly agrees with Caladrels' assessment of the unnatural things that go on at the university. For a moment he thinks of grappling the professor and tumbling on the floor, to put flames out & get the misguided scholar out of the way - however wanting not to burn him and the crackling field that surrounds him; put paid to such notions and Jerry drops his sword and rolls on the ground.
"Flamin' Heck!" Jerry mildly swears, before deciding to give Hinzackle a fright & teach him that setting someone aflame is not the proper pursuit for most academics (that and actually listening to random speakers). He swings forwards using the momentum gained from swinging past the doorframe to smack the professor with his sword.
Jerry shakes off the weird unnatural visuals of the amorphous creature and the way it undulates whilst not moving. "Him? Professor or it?!" He replies to Sylvia barely taking his eyes off the horror.
Jerry coughs softly and leans into Caladrel; "Any help with wounds would be appreciated, if we're to hear the Powerful Speaker in action - best be at our best, it's only respectful." He delays slightly hoping for some healing.
"Is it far? Would we have to take a carriage or ride?" Jerry says cautiously taking a step back to put out his smouldering shirt.
"Is that anyway to talk about your colleagues?" Jerry reprimands, thinking silently to himself in a dry tone; 'Yes, it probably is.' However after the upswing he brings the flat of the blade down, like a workman trying to drive a nail into the floorboards.
The nobleman looks on wide-eyed as the professor sprays fire at through the doorway, he tries to duck behind the door-jamb but finds it unwieldy. Smouldering he regards the professor with a trifle of alarm; "I knew a Swarmi, who could breath fire.... but most of my teachers could only do it figuratively."
"...crazy or not...." Jerry says softly moving forwards into the doorway holding the zweihander like a golf club. Using his momentum he swings low trying to drive the gnomish professor with the flat of his blade.
Contorting his body to avoid the creatures blows, as the room descends into more craziness with gunshots, fire and magically appearing wolves! With barely a moments respite as the creature falls and the professor bursts into the room vials ablaze; causes Jerry to exclaim; "Are all alchemists crazy or is it required to get tenure?" He thinks back to his own university days and concludes it's probably the former.
"Really... so bilious..." Jerry says with a shake of his head as he unsheathes his claymore, then moves forwards to do a low sweep at the stench-ridden creatures legs.
At Faenor's warning the gentleman turns around and looks towards the bench; "Professor????" he asks, the tone a trifle querulous. Followed by the splatter of spilt vegetable soup, which sounds bring him out of his horror and looking to his polished leather shoes; now covered with some unmentionable substance. "Sweetcorn?" he hazards.
Nodding with gratitude at Sylvia's hand, he realises maybe her slightly flippant attitude is just a defence mechanism. 'Or maybe it's just that she puts a different emphasis on things.' "Sorry about that, thought you fellows needed some help." He replies quietly knowing it was him that'd been guarding the other exit. However, he starts to move around the room putting out any bunsens or ethanol burners in case the reagents boil dry (all the while keeping away from the body parts). "You don't suppose.... Professor Laveness?" he motions to the viscera on the table.
"Oh my Jolly! That's not right..." Jerry says staring at the remains on the table. "So the Professor was working with our missing Prof. Laveness..." He puts a hand on the wall staring aghast at the bits on the table, hoping they haven't found the missing woman, or at least part of her.
"Are you alright? Not too badly hurt?" He asks softly. Leaning the heavy sword against the architrave of the door, it's point bits softly into the floorboards of the office and there's a slight wince from Jerry at the damage. However the mechanical beasts are on such reason why he might keep a weapon close at hand.
"What were they? Mechanical men? And why where they in the professors rooms... well, I guess we'll find out." Jerry says querulously, moving into the room before he turns around to Sylvia with a smile and replies as if her question was more than perfunctory. "Naught but a scratch." He then looks to the others with a glance of earnest concern for their well-being.
'In for a penny, in for a guinea... what are these things?!' Jerry thinks as he moves into the room, rushing past the entangled Faenor and striking at the far enemy.
Jerry moves into the room; 'What the devil are they fighting?' he wonders. "What the devil are you fighting?" He asks, in a straight-forward manner. The noble is never one to let thoughts unbidden to the lips. Keeping his sword close to his chest, he sees it'll be tricky to get into the fray & it might require a certain lack of caution.
The cracks of the weapon-fire fills the corridor and Jerry realising the door is to study to be kicked open easily. Obviously due to some freshman pranks, like the ones he performed when he went to University. However the noble dwells not on the past, when there's danger in the present. He picks up his zweihander and keeping low moves down the corridor to peak through the door. Assessing the situation, whilst keeping out of any gunfire he figures out what to do next.
As the crack of the pistol reverberates down the hallway, Jerry decides maybe it's best to open a new avenue of entrance if there's a kerfuffle occurring. Glad that he's put down the heavy sword he rushes towards the locked door and throws his weight against it, twisting at the last second so his shoulder evenly distributes the entire blow rather than on the more delicate socket.
Bouncing off, he gasps softly a light curse at the hag who'd sapped his vigour reserves.
Whilst the others have gone through the adjoining office door, Jerry waits at the main door for a couple of reasons. If the people in the office are meant to be there then it'd be impolite to sneak around the side passage like a servant. However if they are not, and are in fact intruders, then when the others enter the Professors' room - then Jerry will be in position to flank and cut off their escape! Thus to achieve both options, the noble rests his zwei-hander against the outer architrave of the door out of politeness or preparation.
Eeep, IO never saw this notification! I'm in like Flynn.
The coiffured noble will wait slightly for a minute for the others to arrive at the adjoining office and sneak a look inside. The long moments draw a bit of apprehension from him, before he tries to open the offices' main door.
Pausing on the door-handle, Jeremiah astonishedly opens his mouth like a hungry gold-fish as he watches Sylvia go into the other room.
"That was either something sliding against the door to bar it, alternatively we could interpret it as an invitation to entry with a bolt sliding back?" Jeremiah guesses quietly as his hand goes to the door-handle. Squaring up his shoulder in case it's needed he looks to the others in askance.
"Do we politely knock and ask them what's been occurring?" Jerry asks not hearing what's happening in the office beyond.
Rebuked, Jerry takes a soft step back and peers at the door with some regard.
Jerry is a bit taken-aback by the breadth of Faenors' knowledge; "That's quite an eclectic range, where do you find time to socialise?"
"Without sounding too much like Caladrel," he gives a sly wink to his elven friend; "Smells more like chemicals to me and not particularly fresh ones at that. I wonder how often they have a cleaning lady about."
Jerry raises an eyebrow at the strange elven courting rituals. He'd seen some strange ones from the open-savannah's to Lords Balls to tribal roundhouses to the back alley's of factory-side pubs on a saturday night - but this might prove the strangest.
Mouth agape, Jerry shakes himself back to the present; "Certainly not, old man. So you do a bit of antiquing?" He enquires of Faenor, trying to make more normal chit-chat with the newcomer.
"Isn't that the point of education, that it can never be complete... there's always something else to learn." Jerry asks, quirking his eyebrow to Faenor; "So did she write to you of the Speaker? Is that what made you think she was in danger?"
Jerry takes his turn at reading the small ledger, a knot in his stomach at invading the Professors private journal in an obvious time of strife. However once everyone's finished he gives a little cough; "Seems the Professor became a trifle obsessed with this Dark Matter, the 'Speaker' mayhaps influenced her actions and that's what's happened to her."
Jeremiah stands casually leaning against the hallway wall, taking in the startling revelation and intruder. He shifts slightly as the elves converse, for despite his formal education he had never shown an aptitude for languages, or studying really - but that's what money was for to supply alternative to natural ability. With a glance to the eager way that Sylvia was pyromaniacally tapping the vials of chemicals about her person, he starts to look a bit worried.
Taken aback by the industrious eating habits of the Professor, Jeremiah isn't quick to answer but decides to interrupt slightly. "My dear fellow, I wonder if we would be allowed into Professor Lavenesses room? Terrible imposition I know, but it seems that Serevil has forgotten a couple of his maps - you know how it is. He was wondering if we could retrieve them." He says in his most gentlemanly manner, the words spilling forth. Putting up a hand apologetically; "We won't disturb anything, of course." Then pausing for a reply, he puts his had to his head forgetfully; "And another thing.... we do have a note from Prof. Serevil affirming the fact."
"Would a carriage or week in a hotel be a major expense?" Jerry wonders, trying to ascertain if they should go back and question the clerk. His fingers drum subconsciously upon his thigh as he considers his next move.
Jerry takes the proffered sheet, folding it into his breast-pocket with an assurance of it's return, he adds; "I take it, that she doesn't have a research assistant? Or perhaps an undergraduate that is assisting with some of the mundane research or paperwork." He remembers his years at the university and the more studious youths who worked closely with professors. "Do you have an expenses account? Or file to a bursar for travel tickets, hire of carriages or rooms. We could try to locate where the Professor may have gone through that? Or potentially any observatory out of the city, for the smoke obscures the nights sky." He looks to Caladrel with a little nod.
Taking the steps in his stride, Jerry keeps a respectable pace with the ladies. However he winces at Sylvia's pounding upon the Professors door. 'For someone so scholarly, I'd have thought she'd know better etiquette.' As Trina lays out the pages upon the desk, Jerry cannot help but slightly lean forward to examine them too.
Tank works, Jerry is potentially very good at damage dealing & has a few good knowledges.
Jerry's smile broadens and pace quickens as he sees the ladies. Rapidly eating up the yards with a crunch as he avoids walking upon the manicured lawns of the university and sticking to the gravel path. For he had fallen afoul of the Provosts of the College in his academic days and had no wish to annoy them anymore with unauthorised escapades upon the lawns. "So a draw! What fortuitous luck." He says jovially, though the hearty noble does look a touch drawn from his journey his clothes are immaculate.
\m/ Yay ♪ EDIT: Ahem, Yay :D
Overland Group: "She seems a very dependable person." He replies; "I thank you Professor. I'm Jeremiah Roberts, by the way." He looks to Caladrel and nods, indicating that maybe they shouldn't annoy the secretary anymore.
"Thank you." he says to the officious lady, she was only doing her duty and maybe by not being rude to her, her day may improve. Then heads off to the antiquity department to try and find Sylvia and the others.
Overland Group: "I believe it would include one of your alumni, Ms. Pari?" Jerry adds jovially, having changed out of his travelling gear into a more respectable shirt.
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