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Mackeson grunts as the tiny spiders descend upon him, swarming along his armour, slipping in between the seams of his scales and his helm, creeping and stinging.
Mackeson roars, irritated by the tiny arachnids, and slams his helm against the side of the nearest building.
Mackeson then advances along the walls of the alleyway towards Atticus.
"West Dock's not a place you wanna get lost in on the best of days," Mackeson grunts. He smiles at Atticus. "Sheriff's gotta nice ring to it! Sheriff Atticus! I'll be 'Lil' Deputy Mack'." The dwarf chortles Incongruously enough, the dwarf sings as the mismatched crew moves through the streets, relaying a raucous song about a barmaid and a bear in a gutter-deep bass voice.
Mackeson grunts at Anguela’s words. ”I ain’t a charity case, thanks, and I already got places to stay. And if my smell this morning offends, then you might blame the feather-bed I slept in last night.” The dwarf avoids glancing in Atticus’ direction. ”But I wouldn’t. Now, do we have something that we can git busy doin’?”
”Cayden’s guided me this far,” Mackeson grunts. ”Some non-believers would tell me that I’m havin’ pre-munishuns of my own. Hypocritical of me to be critical, so lead the way.” The dwarf appears ready to head out. He stops shortly and looks at the vigilante. ”Of course, if I get a chance to gut that slaver Lamm, that’d be good too.”
Mackeson grins at the vigilante. ”Didn’t know you types had daytime hours,” he grunts. ”Good ta hear that that fool got away without gettin’ skint alive. I took a few licks from that crowd, but it weren’t nothin’.” Mackeson glosses over where he spent the later hours of the night. ”I heard that the city guard got recalled last night to protect the rich people, leavin’ the unhappy rioters to close down sections of the city. It’s a ghost town out there, ta be sure.”
The morning seems a bit more unhitched than many. "Bleedin' green demon," Mackeson curses to no one. "Where the hell?" The dwarf pushes himself up off his face and sodden beard in the comfortably soft bed. Remembering a few bits of the late evening's particpants, he hurriedly checks under the sheets, discovering the clothes that he wears under his armour. His pack and armour rest in a sorted pile on the other side of the small room. "Never follow a noble to a second location," he quips to himself as he scurries out of the comfortable sleeping arrangement. The details of the late evening continue to elude the dwarf as he quickly gets his belongings sorted. He had awoken in odder locales, to be sure. An addict thrice-over, the dwarf was well-used to not remembering details of previous evenings and waking in various sites and states, so the disorientation didn't bother him too much. Still, there was something about last night that made this morning feel more desperate, the morning sun less warming. Mackeson pushed open the door from his guest bedroom, peering around to try to find the most direct way out. Atticus will have guard duty for sure. I'm not a part of his fold. I'll just tuck out before...
Mackeson grunts in impressed fashion despite his normal countenance. "That's an impressive garden. And you did that all yerself? That takes a time to get them plants to grow. I've never been good at growin' things." Mackeson trails off to a sagely nod as he stares in wonderment. Cayden be, I hope Paige and Ghost fared as well as me, he prays off-handedly.
"Would you like to join me for the evening?" Mackeson wrestles with himself internally. He's a pompous git.
The dwarf grunts. "Hunh. That's not surprisin' about the guard bein' recalled like that - ya know what? Shore, I'll join ye for the evenin', and much obliged. The name's Mackeson. Mackeson Slatethorne. I'm 'fraid I dint catch yer name in the dust-up back there." Mackeson extends his hand to shake.
Mackeson curses under his breath as he undoes his makeshift armour kit, unknotting the rope and spreading his armour in an easy order to don in a hurry on the ground. He stuffs his rope back into his pack and sets to donning the armour, punctuating his strap-tightening with more curses. "Idjits runnin' round on the street...kick that bald basturd in the nuts if given half a chance...people don't know what their fightin' bout jes' so they can stay a-fightin'..." "Ah, the dwarf" he says. "Mackeson, was it? You still live, then. Good, though I can see that you are worse for wear. And alone now?" Besmara's bunions, thinks the dwarf. "Yup, I'm fine, never better," the excrement-stained and severely-bruised dwarf says as he turns in a wide circle in an attempt to finish tightening the straps holding on his breastplate. Satisfied with the state of his armour, Mackeson stops and looks at Atticus. "Where's the rest of your contingent?"
Mackeson curses and takes off his armour after sliding back down the sewer tunnel. He takes his rope out of his pack and ties up his armour and shield in a bundle. He then takes his time to climb up and out of the sewer, using all the time that he needs. Once up to the street, he pulls his armour up via the rope and then dons it again.
Mackeson breathes heavily within the sewer chute, his heart racing. Thank the Drunken God, the dwarf manages.
Mackeson takes a moment to figure out where to go next in order to catch up with Paige and the Silver Ghost. Can't stay here all night, Mackeson thinks, concentrating in order to determine if any stragglers from the mob remain up on the street.
Convinced that he hears nothing, the dwarf scrambles out of the sewer, wet and soiled. He makes his way in the shadows as much as he can back the way he came.
Of the submissions, I think Katarina Doliu or Arden Coralesian were the two that seemed to best fit what Paige was doing. Those are my thoughts. Anyone would be acceptable, though as I mentioned, I would want someone of the chaotic nature to balance the law vs chaos theme we have in our team. As far as saving Mackeson's skin, he's looking for anything that he can crawl, roll, or dive into in order to get away from the mob. The grosser, the better. I'm thinking sewer grates, dumpsters, or even canals. He's not fighting back; just running and looking for shelter. If no shelter is available, then he'll head towards the sounds of people/voices, hoping for some distraction and help.
Mackeson swiftly looks around to find his escape route.
Cayden keep me, the dwarf thinks. ”She’ll sit on the throne as long as your mama sat on me,” Mackeson says, making a rude gesture with his hips, ”long enough!” The dwarf braces himself for what’s coming, hoping his colleagues will be able to help the unhorsed sot.
A good night to die. The dwarf smirks as he sees his companions slip into the shadows. Stepping slightly into the shadows himself, Mackeson winks at the concern from Paige when she whispers his name. The dwarf raises his voice and bellows. "Long live Queen Ileosa! Long live the Queen!" He waits, grip tight on his kukri.
The dwarf clanks noisily alongside the Sarenrite and the largely-silent vigilante, his kukri in hand.
"I git the idea of throwin' off yer shackles and all," Mackeson mentions in huffs and puffs as he surveys the wanton destruction, "but denyin' yer fellow citizens their rights to safety and property ain't the answer. Stupid buggers."
Mackeson smirks at Darius. "You know I ain't no Sarenite, but someone's got to keep these two safe. Listen, if yuh get in trouble here at the temple, I'll be sure to come back and rescue you, too. Bottom's up!" And the dwarf follows Paige and the masked vigilante out into the streets. Oh, Shelyn's frilly underthings...this is going to be a mess.
That makes my mind up. Mackeson frowns at the semi-order from the semi-guardsman. "Yep, I'd be happy to keep an eye on things with yuh, Ghost. I'm not the sneakiest of folk, nor the swiftest," he says, letting the unspoken second part of his phrase fall into awkward silence. "Paige? Whatcher about?" The dwarf looks up at the Sarenrite. It's a good night to die, Mackeson thinks, and chuckles to himself.
"Then the temple it is," Mackeson says as he hefts the marine's legs up to his burly dwarven shoulders and moves with him across the open Pantheon yard and into safety. Once inside, the dwarf leaves the wounded man with an available healer and rushes right back to a vantage point near the main door, peering out to see what new ruckus is coming their way.
Mackeson whirls about and clinks his tankard into the fallen marine’s armour. ”Pretty lucky thing, them decidin’ to leave.”
”Hunh.” The dwarf seems surprised at how well that went. ”As good a time as any,” he exclaims, muttering another Caydenite prayer.
He toasts the others. ”Long live the Queen?” he says without conviction, and quaffs the tankard in one drain.
GM:
I would like to move Mackeson into the shadows so as to make use of the +2 to Intimidate from his Dimdweller trait, if possible. He will also maintain a proximity to the fallen marine (to avoid penalties from being more than 20 ft away from fallen allies. ”Cayden Cailean sez ‘Live and let Live’,” the dwarf growls from the shadows. ”He don’t really say much ‘bout the alternative, so I’m afraid it’s left up to my interpretation.”
Mackeson followed without a word, quaffing a pint from the shrine to Cayden in a hurried gulp as he left the Pantheon. He didn't care much for the Sable Company - glitz and snobbery - but he wasn't about to let an angry mob maul a lone fallen soldier into a bloody paste. He threw on his helm and waded out behind Darius and the company, considering his options at handling a crowd. "What the hell is wrong with you people, STAND DOWN!" Mackeson was impressed at the force of Darius' words. It was going to be interesting running the streets with a drinking buddy, especially since Mackeson had never not seen him off his face. Still, he had a way with words, and diplomacy did seem to be the name of the game. The dwarf knew that he wasn't fit to roll those dice but he could help those who could. "Paige, I'm gonna bless yer with Cayden's grace aginn, like back at the orphanage. Maybe it'll work better this time, yeah?"
The dwarf mutters a prayer and touches Paige briefly on the shoulder. "Go git 'em," he winks.
”Yeah, I’m a vagrant, remember?” Mackeson fires back. ”The temple to Cayden is a good a home to me as any, and Paige belongs to the Sarenrites who just lost a home, so she’ll be coming with me as well as the orphans.” The dwarf shakes his head at Anguela. ”I guess I’ll be waiting for that apology. Nice to meet you, at least. And yeah, Mackeson is jus’ fine. Evenin’, all.” Mackeson leaves with Paige.
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