Search Posts
Roger roars with laughter. "Hah! That'd be a painting and a half! Another song for the storybook, but alas, I think we'd best go in together. The plan wherein I try to kill her like that is plan B what if everyone else dies in the fight and I'm a lone captive."
"It's a date." Roger answers with a smile- enjoying the continuing ambiguity.
"Oh- that's a question and half-" Roger visibly reels back. "What would I desire- been awhile since I even considered it." He pauses, scratching his beard for a moment, then shaking his head. "It's not a good look for a man to think of an ex first- aye, but I can't deny the first thought in my head was a lass at port I never even had. There's loving the sea and there's loving the sea. He was in full story telling mode now. "Fearless and fierce she was- for she'd dress as Besmara to take customers. A portrait she could be, for artisans'd shower her with gold simply to use her for model. For more than that, even richer men took her, I never caught more than glimpses." "Course- then the storm came and a great bleeding beast breached from the shore and flattened the pleasure district. And then it exploded and sent rotten meat across the whole port. And lightning from the storm burnt down every alter or temple of Besmara what had art made from that lass- despite them all havin' clerics and such what'd be good at fighting fire- so you know, maybe not the safest idea to try a repeat o that- tho we are pretty far from the ocean." Sometimes the moral of the story is pretty blunt. "But even if't'were safe- I've been trying to move on. Like ye say, judged by our gods we are, and one o Besmara's whole things is not leaving the pirate life behind and I haven't been boardin' many ships of late. Been trying to give Chaldira a spin- though far less for her looks and more for the lifestyle. Trust in yer luck and go battle some evil. -- Hope she wasn't listening about the looks part."
"I figure the only question I could answer to you honestly is that a sandwich just isn't the right way for that kinda meat. I've no interest in cannibalism, but he's a big lad, built like a boar, not some little piglet porker what'd be bacon or ham. The only way to soften up a meat like that'd be a long stew, and you don't put stew meat inna sandwhich less you like soggy bread. I thought that's why all you hags had cauldrons? Or'n is that just a stereotype and you haven't any cauldron? I guess you'ar the first I've met." Roger hasn't said a lot, but he figures the best way to rile the hag up'd be acting a little lackadaisical, like this wasn't all a big deal. And maybe a riled up hag'd make some mistakes.
"Besmara's Teeth- That was close..." Roger, usually quite the energetic man, is rather acting more his age, quite emotionally exhausted from the narrow margin of the group's victory.
With his quick reflexes Roger manages to.... do... something??? that protects him from this omnidirectional wave of sound at point blank range??? ... Never ask a pirate his secrets, I suppose.
Roger grits his teeth and keeps fighting, nothing else for it!
"Don't think even a mother'd love this mug! Back ye bilgeslug!" Roger draws his falchion and wades into battle against the beast.
Roger keeps up the fight, nothing left to say. Five foot step then attack.
"Fighting us alone? Don't fancy whatever short straw you drew for that." Despite the favorable terrain, Roger has some pity for the foe. Not enough to not use all his skills to ensure their demise however.
Roger makes his way up the path Emma cleared and falls in beside her to attack with his Falchion.
"Keep pilin' in the fire, we'll bring it down!" Roger calls in the group as he maneuvers for the flank and keeps attacking.
Roger is wary of the lashing chains, and switches weapons, dropping his Falchion to the floor and drawing his cold-iron Glaive, sadly wrought for slaying the wrong sort of evil foe, yet still fulfilling a useful purpose in letting Roger cautiously advance into spear range and have at it.
Roger grits his teeth and tightens his grip on the weapon, expecting the eye to turn into some sort of active monster upon the holy water usage.
"Anyone else see that weird pinkish light?" Rpoger calls it out and points.
"Onward- let's hope they're itching for a fight as much as we are."
Roger sticks on guard, eyes darting around for trouble.
Weathering the storm, Roger takes a step forward in front of the group, drawing his blade, ready to protect the group from anyone taking advantage of the spell.
"Alright- We're gambling a lot on this... I hope they're still here." Roger takes the potion of barkskin.
"Mmm... I'll check." Roger nods along with the idea, his eyes focused on the treeline.
"Well, I figure this is a way to follow a track they can't predict." Roger throws a die.
Roger shrugs, picks it up, and points towards A path, "Everyone good with that way?"
"Well, that makes two of us, Emma. As vile as it was for oozey evil demons to to lurch at us from closets, it was a bit more easy to handle. Excepting for the nearly dying."
Roger has trouble keeping a disbelieving expression off his face much like the other local. Unless the Gnome was a Skulk in very clever disguise, Roger had a hard time believing the crime was any more severe than being a fence of disreputable goods.
"Ough, I don't like the idea of there being yet another party joining the fray, but you make some sense there, Majara." Roger is worried once Majara points out how much worse it could've been.
Roger eventually is found by someone and pulled into the meeting, where he sits down with some onion and pepper'd eggs. "I'll be honest, I didn't expect them to be so brazen. They're definitely picking a fight with us. Say, what magical things do we think we can pull as a group to track down the folks? I've two spells that might be helpful. One just makes me a bit better at tracking, tho I don't know if a bit better'll be enough. They're right sneaky on their home turf. The other'll give me the image of someone's footprint. Not sure that'll help what with us already knowing who's behind it. But I figure I'd lay 'em both on the table."
Roger tries his best not to look like a hired thug while the others are talking.
"Hard to say Majara, before, we were just prey, or a threat. After taking one of them out, there may be a personal grudge now. Stay safe, you three." Roger seems to be including Alocer in his counting.
Roger stiffens for a moment in surprise at the sudden hug before they part, a wide smile now parting the beard. "Ah! Took me a moment to realize you're in the same bilge as I, all about to warn ye bout the mess I was."
"Well, we always knew something was afoot. Honestly, I'm fairly content that the something is something what can be stabbed and burned, and not some spiritual foe what he'd have to face alone. This we can help Connie with!"
"One'd probably do for me, Majara." Roger raises a hand. He'd taken a solid blow, but solid armor and stern stuff made for a good pirate.
"Perfect, Hana, I was just about to ask if anyone had any rope!" Roger sets about tying a quick loop for Nerissa to set a foot in, and a knot to rest the hands against.
"Where-how--... must be magic." Roger seems confounded for a moment at the presence of the pit even as he leaps aside, but concludes that, much like everything else that's confusing, it must've been magic.
Roger decides not to give chase into another trap and instead rushes to Alocer's aid.
Roger is taken by surprise by the attack, but slowly brings himself round to defend Majara.
"Woah, sorry, got turned around." Roger had apparently just gotten lost in the winding tunnels and darkness. Not the most unlikely scenario.
"Blast- If they're not here, they must be faster'n we can catch." Looking around the big room and the corridor he can see, he doesn't see how they could've disappeared around a corner unless they were too fast to catch. Or hiding nearby.
Roger gives chase as well, intending to keep pace with Nerissia so that she won't be alone at the lead. Not that Alocer would let that be the case.
"I dunno, is there some kind of devil or demon hound what'd have a fiery bite? Not sure I should always jump to that sort of tale, but it is Saringallow, we've a bit of a history."
"Aye- take it." The pirate may have braved a bilge or two in his day, but he's not eager to relive that particular glory, and happily gives the scarf to Hannelia.
"Aye? Suppose'n so." Roger shrugs vaguely sorta affirmatively, why not?
"Aye, her behavior was mighty strange. No rhyme I can find." Roger agrees.
"Better than an eyepatch that's for sure." Roger drinks the potion. Roger's not entirely sure why he's in front of the incredibly well armored Emma, but figures maybe she's opened more than her fair share of doors with swarms of vermin behind them.
"A though occur'd to me. If we know he didn't ask for his money back, do ya think that narrows down his disappearance between paying for his boat out and it's leavin', a single night? Is that anything?" Roger has been slowly ruminating over the mystery. Not his strongest suit, but giving it his best.
"Hard to say. For all we know, its not Connie when these are being carved."
Roger eventually bumbles his way back to the group, carrying her blade and all that's left of her. "I think I got her, though she turned into fog after she hit the ground. Everyone alright? Think we can gleam any clues?" He tosses the weapon, armor, and clothing on the ground. |
