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"We all need to rest and recuperate," says Magnun, contemplating the life that has been sucked out of him, [b]"Some of us more than others. Perhaps if Forrest watches first, followed by Kimi. Alvaster can do his genuflections and then watch, and I'll take the last watch..."[/b}
You have a moment to utter a bloody oath...
Gimme a strength check to lift the statue, Ye will probably have a hard time lifting it up with just the 2 of you...and Kimi doesnt have much strength to lend anyway Being an old Carnie, and having had to help disassemble the odd marquee, Magnun can see the odds. "My good friends! Many hands make for light work!" He takes the cetral position, and calls out, "Come Idris! Let us set the idol to rights." He looks to Alvaster. "I quite understand if this particular task is outside the remit of a loyal servant of Velsh'roon."
Magnun continues:"I like the idea of making a contraption for crossing the bogs!"
Magnun ponders this plan. "I'm not so sure that we should travel in darkness. The Wickermen do not see, and nor do they need to; they are as deadly in darkness as in daylight. Indeed--they have set upon us as readily at night as during the day." He looks at the human cleric, with his clumsy armour and his conventional vision, and continues, "No--our danger is escalated at night. Stumbling through woods and swamps at night we will make more noise, will move more slowly, and run the risk of falling into bogs as we go, or getting separated."
Magnun moves away from Alvaster...
Sleep comes easy to Magnun, who has exhausted much of his magical reserves. He feels strangely comforted here, but cannot decide whether this is more likely due to this being an enchanted place of the elves, or because of his brush with the Plane of Air. His dreams are garbled, a mess of elves singing and dancing, whirlwinds, silk tents, castles built on clouds. Nonetheless, it is the Djinn which give most to him. Voices speak to him of the great Plane of Air, and its relationship with the other planes. Everyone speaks in riddles. Magnun has had such dreams before; they have prophetic properties, although they also deceive.
Most striking amongst these dreams feature a discovery about the air itself. It would appear that the air is made of stuff, and if he speaks to the air and caresses it just so, mighty webs will coalesce out of it, binding those within.
The enchanted hoards of the great Djinn Lord abound for moments; amongst them are staffs and amulets of power. The djinn aorund him are keen to show their knowledge of these things, and the general workings of magic.
Magnun, through his dreams, comes to realise that magic has a life and it speaks to him, in its little way, most acutely through the air. His attunement to the world has escalated; behind all things there is magic, the sentience of the air, and it speaks to him of what is happening. Most peculiarly, he has come to understand the very magic in words themselves...
"Kiaora, om Puku, this is Kat," He turns slightly so the red face of Kat is visible over his broad shoulder, "But shes a bit fukced eh. Hey were those your ponies bro, that sh!t was out of it!" ”Hello Puku! Congratulations on your victory!” says Apparicio, offering a handshake, “I am Appricio Iakobus, recently arrived from Absalom. It does appear that Kat is not in the best state.”
One [guard] emerges from Apparicio's cabin holding aloft a morning star with a childish look of triumph on his stupid, grubby face. [b]"Here now! Hardly the weapon of a gentleman, eh boys?" Apparicio laughs along with the guards. “Indeed. The weapon of a gentleman is kept in his trousers, and saved for the ladies.” He pauses for a beat, not expecting laughter, and continues in light-hearted tones. ”But I’m sure a likely lad such as yourself can accommodate a commoner’s armament.” At this witticism, such as it is, he laughs good-naturedly, emphasising that this is all by way of good-natured jest.
Apparicio tries to figure out if he can make head or tail of it. After that he looks around for some local, other than a redcap, to find out what is out to sea there, and perhaps any rumours about it.
The cleric is pretty much modelled on the Bishop Ode of Bayeaux. He is depicted in the Bayeaux Tapestry fighting alongside William the Conqueror during the invasion of Britain, wielding a mace or sceptre. Having clerics fighting was not an unusual occurence. Younger brothers of nobles would often enter the clergy, and were lords in their own right. They were bascially knights.
Apparicio opens the door as quickly as possible, keeping his hands where they can be seen. "Good evening, guard; how can I help you?"
Perhaps lacking the wisdom to pause in his callous behaviour, Magnun will press on. “To business then. Alvaster is right; whatever layer of Hell Teedum has been taken to, he will not miss what he is carrying now, while our needs are many, and no doubt some of what he carries will mean something to his... loved ones… if such he ever had.” At this, Magnun will start a search of the corpse. He will also do a Detect Magic, making sure to investigate Teedum’s staff as well.
Magnun has much to ponder. While briefly overcome by a certain horror at Alvaster’s cold-blooded murder, enough has happened that that seems neither here nor there. “It is done.” Magnun pauses. “As we look on this with the drums of battle still beating in our ears it is best to remember that our quickest judgements are often most false. We all know what happened; the rights and wrongs of it will be clear in the fullness of time.” Magnun turns and looks down at Teedum. “This c*nt was a total a*sehole, there's no denying that, but we will miss a dangerous ally who surely had balls of steel. There are monsters aplenty in these woods, and we will need whatever strength we can get." He looks back to Alvaster, who has exacerbated his predicament with his reckless actions. "We are weaker than we were, and it was ill that made it so.” Here he pauses again. “Still.” Now, in a softer voice, addressing Alvaster but loud enough that Forrest can hear: “It is done, and it cannot be undone. Your undead beast better be useful, for it has some big boots to fill.” Here he kicks the boot of Teedum, and turns to Forrest: “If we are to succeed in our mission--if, indeed, we are to return from these accursed woods at all--we will need to work together. We can save the inquisitions for a time and place where our mission, our lives, and the life a little girl are not on the line. “I have arrows, Forrest, if you have patience.” Magnun pulls a bunch of arrows out of his pack and passes them to the elf.
(Apparicio notices that her teeth are in perfect condition - unheard of for a goblin - and her breath is sweet like berries). Is Apparicio still convinced that Nabb Toh is actually a goblin? Perhaps some sort of cross-breed? A goblin/gnome cross? That would be weird... Never really paid much attention to goblins, though. [i] "Oh! Where's my Hershelstarks? Is he safe, is he safe?" she shrieks.{/i] ”Why, yes!” Apparicio reassures the mysterious goblin, ”As best as I can tell he made his way out with Larsen. Things were exciting there!” He pauses, briefly. ”You are lucky to be alive. I think we all thought that necromantic horror had done for you, but the potion saw you right.” He pauses. It seems rescuing the goblin was a good thing, in the long run--but things carry the prospect of getting weird quickly. So far that seemed to be all that Andersport offered. Weird. ”It’s time, I think, for some nourishment!” He’ll see if he can get himself a beer. He will see if can organise Nabb Toh some broth. If no-one is around to request it, he’ll see if there’s food on a table that the "goblin" can have. He is keen to find out what is happening in the aftermath of the fight--he does not want his digs shut down by the paladins.
He's got Heal 4, and Knowledge Arcana 6...
Now. as best as he can make it out, that's where Magnun would guess the tongue has gone. He's unsure of the exact nature of the preservation that has been placed on it, but it seems that it might be disagreeing with her. Does this stomach movement look like the woman has eaten something unpleasant, and could perhaps vomit it up if induced, or does it look like some nasty greebly is lodged in her innards and is trying to get out?
Shame about the infernal steaming pile, but.
Apparicio will dismiss the summoned creatures: ”Return, my minions, to whence you came.”
Their work was done. More than done! That damned fool who attacked one of the ponies probably didn’t deserve to die for his sins--or at least not that particular sin. The last thing Apparicio wants is for some other fool to get killed by another of these mighty beasts, and he doesn’t want a whole new fight to start because somebody becomes his enemy, or attacks one of the ponies. When did ponies become so deadly? He had summoned ponies because they were mostly harmless. And yet. Still. There’s no good in hiding the source of the ponies. Somebody’s sure to have seen him at doing the business, and he doesn’t want to be caught out lying at this stage. If at all possible, Apparicio moves quickly to the goblin, Nabb Toh; letting the goblin die would be bad, rescuing it might help his cause later. If said goblin is still alive, he will ply him with a Potion of Cure Light Wounds, trusting this more than his (untrained) Heal: 1, or the helpfulness of paladins and inquisitors, and then call for medical assistance, in a clear voice. ”Can someone help save this hapless by-stander! We don’t need another death from this debacle!” If he’s got a moment to spare from trying to save Nabb, he’ll turn to the inquisitor and declaim: “I called this mighty troupe of ponies--and a blessing it was, too, for it was they that nailed that undead monstrosity and his progeny.”
Magnun had been chewing berries like pop-corn, watching the alpha males butting heads like a pair of horny aurochs bulls. He was unenthusiastic about gallivanting through the Darkwood in a smaller, squishier scouting party with the plan of finding some jolly green giant who, he was only too sure, would be more than happy to make jelly out of two archers and a light-weight sorcerer. Scouting was all good if there was support to call in, and healing on-line. This plan of splitting up didn’t sound good, not at all. In truth, it was six of one whether they waited or charged ahead. The woman was unlikely to be of any use to them whatever happened; she didn’t seem the sort who could give weighty intelligence as to the location, strengths and weaknesses of the bad dudes--perhaps that was unfair profiling--and even that depended on communicating with her. It seemed unlikely she was literate, and short of invasive surgery there was no ready source of tongues. Nonetheless, it would be crass to leave her to die. On the other hand, Nigel was probably rooted anyway. Magnun had little doubt that he was beyond saving. There seemed no particular hurry in catching him up, except to appease Teedum, and storming through the woods had led to problems. Nonetheless, Teedum was a valuable ally, and a dangerous enemy; Magnun did not want to be the one to break the bad news to him. He was formulating how to put this, perhaps: “Gentlemen. I think we need to be honest about what is happening here. It seems, when we consider Nigel and those others who have been taken, that this mission has become a matter of revenge rather than of rescue, and that if we are to serve them best we need to remember that revenge is best served cold…” For this to work at all, Teedum would need to be calm, or at least not already raging. He seemed unlikely to calmly accept that Nigel had gone. He certainly wasn’t going to wait by idly while a bunch of elves tip-toed through the woods to find out what was happening, and his anger could well be a hazard to the party as it went. Perhaps some suitably blokey humour would clear the air? Events intrude, however; it looks like our in-patient is about to go all Alien on our arses. Magnun will ready an electric ray, ready to nail whatever nasty opts to make its way out through the caesarean exit. Perhaps it is simply that the tongue is disagreeing with her, but Mr Argos is not taking chances. If things settle for invalid, however, and the brouhaha looks set to start again, he will interrupt the warring parties, something along the lines of: “My good men! Plainly there is a flaw in Alvaster’s plan--it would leave you two alone together to get up to Calistria knows what antics! As like as not you’d be at each others’ throats by the time we’d got back… No! We must move or stay together--at least until you good lads can find a room!”
Yes it does! Can the Mysterious Stranger move away from the fracas to a spot where few will see him cast a Grease spell under the Sergeant? If he can see a spot he'll do that. Otherwise he'll try the diplomatic route: "Good Sergeant!" he begins in a voice fit to grab his attention, "Plainly the noble orc now has his good friend the lady in hand! He will bring order to the situation and ensure that nobody is hurt!"
The Mysterious Stranger thinks the half-orc probably has the situation with the woman in hand, but is concerned at what the redcap might achieve. Having seen the heavy-handed operations of law enforcement agents before, being aware of the prejudice within which half-orcs are often cast, and having enjoyed the spectacle of the drinking game so much, the Mysterious Stranger will attempt to intercept the Sergeant. Knowing better than to grab or obstruct a law enforcement officer, the Mysterious Stranger will attempt to persuade the sergeant to leave these two be. "Good Sergeant!" he begins in a voice fit to grab his attention, "This is simply a domestic matter! These two good friends are acquainted from way back, and the common law might best be served by leaving the fearsome orc here to sort out matters with his currently unhinged and vicious lady friend, rather than bringing the law into the conflict! Let us see how the spectacle unfolds." The Mysterious Stranger is endeavouring to invoke souch legal terms as he knows to give the Sergeant excuses not to involve himself, by intimating that this is "just a domestic", and dropping the hint that the gigantic orc and his visious lady friend might turn on him if things go pear-shaped. The Mysterious Stranger has Diplomacy +8 and Profession: Law +5. If he fails, he knows better than to persist, and will attempt to melt into a surreptitious spot.
I found that part of the film pathetic and wishy washy. As if he is putting Frodo on the path of non-violence. Gandalf would also later beat and chop up orcs in battle, clearly killing some of them. Yeah, really pacifist Gandalf. I don't really remember the scene from the movie--but it makes sense in the context of the book. It is a total misreading to construe Gandalf as a pacifist, as you rightly point out. He spends half the books either fighting, or trying to persuade other people to fight. That precludes neither pity nor a morality that deplores slaughter. There is a difference between fighting and slaughter. Slaughtering sentients is evil. Even in war. People who slaughter captives are condemned the world over for war crimes, and the traditional punishment is execution. It was fairly common for soldiers to disarm their captives and release them, even though it was almost certain they would return to fight.
"He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself. He will never be rid of his need for it." "It's pity Bilbo didn't kill him when he had a chance!" "Pity? It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death. And some that died deserve life. Can you give it to them Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many."
Magnun looks around at the carnage, and contemplates the whiskey on offer. He thinks better of it, and has a few swigs of wine from a bottle. If either of his companions are nearby, he offers them some as well.
Magnun stared into the seemingly impenetrable forest, and wondered at the fate of those who had been taken by the mandrakes, glad that it was not him. He could not stop thinking about what had befallen them; this was a new thing, and there was something morbidly fascinating in the trasformation of people into plants. It was strong magic, surely. In the midst of this, he recollected lessons he had learnt long ago, while he had gathered his own powers; it was knowledge that until now had not taken hold.(1) As he crossed the camp towards the fires, gathering his shortsword, he considered its practicality. He had taken a hammering in that fight, and the shortsword had been all but useless. Still; that which doesn't kill you, makes you stronger,(2) and along the way had been valuable lessons. Magnun stood in the shadows, carefully out of the way, watching the others clear up some of the mess while took some beef jerky from his pack and chewed on it, contemplating what he had learnt. What had been most useful were those surges of lightning. At a critical moment, while grappling the Mandrake, Magnun had discovered something; he could make great surges of electricity out of arcane power.(3) Even more useful, it seemed, he had discovered a new way to unleash his arcane power, now as Arrows of Force or Lighning that would unerringly strike their mark.(4) Exposure to the electricity of his own electric rays had, perhaps, inured him to the dangers of electricity(5) and using and developing these spells had taught him much about how spells worked.(6) No. More useful than the shortsword had been simply knowing what was going on.(7) That had allowed him to dodge the falling goop, whose impact would have been terrible. Just simply being agile enough to avoid danger was obviously useful, and jumping out that window had been pretty awesome, if somewhat useless.(8) In the end, however, perhaps what Magnun most valued was the story that he would tell of the day's events, and he set about practising this to himself. No; this wa a glorious day, and he would enjoy spreading the news of what had happened.(9) Before going to bed, he joined the crowd and congratulated them on their achievements in the fight. Seeing the upset Teedum, he went to console him, trying to show something very like empathy, before turning in and planning how he would tell the tale to transform this into something truly heroic. 1. Magnun has gained a rank of Knowledge: Arcana. He would have preferred a rank of Knowledge: Planes, but there is no way he can justify gaining that knowledge. He will take up research, if he can, to acquire Knowledge: Planes.
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