"Aaaghh! Not the beetles! Cover your eyes!"
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rapier and dagger (1d20+2=3, 1d20+2=20)
Mikel almost vomits at the realisation. "Kallista, you're right. It's them." he says through gritted teeth.
Mikel rushes in, rapier and dagger drawn to attack the nearest foe and take away their ranged advantage.
"Sounds like a plan to me, old boy!" Mikel says cheerfully, "Whether it's a good one or not, I couldn't possible say." he adds with a grin.
"Ah." Mikel ducks to the side of the door and says to the others, "Get back!" "Ah... er, hello in there! Sorry, didn't realise anyone lived here!" he says in a friendly tone loudly.
Mikel pouts and glares at Yend, "Does he think he can handle the correct pronouns?" he says, imitating him. He examines the lock and attempts to pick it.
"Told you."
Mikel gasps raggedly, "What in the name-?" "Yuk."
"AAAGHHHH!!!!"
"Aha! There has been furtling in here!" Mikel makes a search of the storage area.
"You're going the right way for a lockpick up that refined elven nasal passage."
*Seeth* "The next time we get involved in a battle, I'm going to shout 'Kallista, use your sword to hit it!' or "Grey, mutter magic words!' Let's see how you like that."
Mikel tries to open the door he's been lockpicking.
"Will you bugger off!" Mikel hisses impatiently. "For all you know this may contain terrifying monstrosities the likes of which have not been seen by mortal eyes."
"Do I sigh like a Waterdhavian matron everytime you cast a spell? Then allow me to practice my craft."
"I would open the door if a barmaid, a wizard, and - what is it you DO exactly? - wouldn't keep interrupting me!"
Mikel looks at Kallista. "I. Know. That's why. I was. Talking to them." *Sigh*
"Before you lot turned up, I was doing rather well with the lowlives of Daggerford, thanks. They were like... stuff... in my hands." He examines the lunatic face, "Well, it's clearly...."
"What the?! Will you lot stop following me?!" Mikel exclaims. "Yes, I am going to fiddle with the lock. It's what I do."
"Bhaal's balls..." Mikel breathes, "Will you all just concentrate for a minute?" He decides to sneak up to the store cupboard... alone.
Mikel looks at Kallista, "Lunch?" *Sigh*
"I could just.... knock." Mikel says after a while, "Those chaps down the pub were fooled by my sellsword act; this character might be too. If not, we can always just duff him up when he answers the door."
"Juh-wuh- Grey! I really don't want to know!" "But Kallista might..."
Mikel's mouth falls open agape. "Subtle... for once?! Who in the Nine Hells just blundered into my act and nearly blew the whole gaff... hmm let me see... you lot!" "Mr I fire magic from my fingers, and Miss Pointy Metal Things do my talking! And- er, what exactly is it that you DO?" he asks Montebuth in puzzlement.
"Strangely enough, I had also forgotten." Mikel admits abashed, "Sorry, kid" he mutters. "But, after all that's why we're going to find this necromancer, so we can sort this desecration out and put the family to rest."
"Yeah, for us it's a way of life."
"Oh, one man went to mow, went to mow a meadow, one man went to mow, went to mow a meadow!" he sings cheerfully.
"The who in the what now? Who the hell is Montebuth? Oh, you mean you. Or I. Aagh. Now, I'm really confused. Anyway, let's get this freak."
"Yes, great fun," Mikel says as he rolls his eyes. "We better get out of here before those bastards in there cotton on that we're actually all bosom chums." Beat. "Er, who are you?" he asks the newcomer.
"Sweet Sune, yes, now let go, you twerp," Mikel mutters to her. "Yeah, yeah, make your threats. We'll see who's so clever later." He says coldly as he dusts himself down and leaves the pub. Talona's teeth! One of them might kill me whilst pretending, and the other is a screaming ninny! Who's the old man? he thinks.
MIkel looks agog as the group enter, "What th- go away, you idiots!" he mutters through gritted teeth. "SCREW YOU, ELF!" he says and throws ale in Greylan's face, "Talk like that again and I'll cut the points of your ears. And as for you, blondy, we've had our words." With that he storms out of the pub, the very image of a hard-bitten tough. Agh! The best laid plans... Have they no sense?
Mikel grunts, "Heh, well, I ain't gonna turn down work, even if it's the shovel kind. How do I get in touch with this wizard guy?"
"Ahh... yeah spellcasters. Know all about them - loons the lot of them. Useful though in a fight sometimes, but weird. Some of them are into all that whatsit called, necromancy stuff? Not one of them is he?" Mikel adds in an appropriately disgusted but matey tone.
The man gives a small smirk of a smile at Mikel's words "Those're the skills our group's missin' but really. If I were you I'd find another group to work with. Smenck pays well but his new business partner is an utter loon. More danger than it's all worth really.." He proclaimns blearily. Mikel returns a sardonic grin, "Hey, money's what I need, friend. Loon or no loon. Hey, how loony we talking?" he asks jovially.
"Huh, right. Man's gotta eat. I'm a useful guy though, and maybe I can be as 'interesting' to Smenck as Skutch is. I'm good with property; sometimes mine, sometimes other folks."
Mikel replies to the fellow, "Yeah, that's the not the only thing she needs jammed up her, know what I mean?" he says with a lewd gesture and grin. "I tell ya, some of these so-called sellswords are like white knights or something. Man's gotta get gold, hey? Doesn't matter how it's got, right?" he says moodily to the ruffian. "Where's a blade going to get money in this town? Aside from the mines, that is? Anyone looking for... ah, discrete help?"
"Fine! Screw you hicks! You bleeding heart Ilmaterites can go hang yourselves for all I care! You guys want money but you're too scared to bloody your hands. I'm through with this. You're now minus one swordarm, blondie. Suck it up. " With that Mikel heads moodily to the bar.
"Incompetent! You couldn't hit the tarrasque if it exposed its flank to you! You're lucky I don't just kick you back to the gutter I found you in."
MIkel fills Kallista in on the basics of his plan as they head back to town... Once there, he proceeds to put on a subtle show of estrangement from her, and they go to the best place to meet hired swords and their hirers.
"You'll see."
Mikel taps the side of his nose, "The less you know, the better it will work. How're your acting skills?" he asks.
Mikel nods, and turns seriously to his companions, "So, you, Hetta and Greylan will go the Lodge?" he asks True, "Right. Kallista, you're with me." he says, a smidgen of the noble scion emerging. He turns away and makes to head off again, before turning back with a sly smile, "I have a plan..." he says wickedly and makes for town.
Mikel turns back to see the group faffing with the chick/cub/chub/chib. They're all crazy. But there aren't many as decent as them.
"Let's go," Mikel says grimly, "And when we get back, we play it my way." He leaves the cabin and proceeds to town.
"Cyric's c- I mean, come on, we can decide on a name later!" Mikel says slightly snappishly, "These bastards desecrated graves for who knows what purpose and we're here naming an owlbear. I vote for Bubursa!" he declares with mock passion.
Mikel slaps his hand to his forehead, "Grey," he says with exasperation, "this isn't a comic opera at the Ravens Bluff Playhouse. He's not going to sit there and cry, 'Alas, for you have uncovered my plot, I shall tell you all, I have no desire to be shot!'. First off, we're going to be pretty conspicuous with a severed arm, secondly, you're carrying it if we do, and thirdly, you go in waving that, he's likely to kill you or bolt. Neither of which is ideal. I'd really rather not see you turned into chowder. Or be turned into myself."
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