Happy Thanksgiving to all, indeed!
... but you know what assuming does... You mean they're potions of form of the beast??! Sweet, I'm taking one right away!
*chants* The DM is kind, the DM is merciful. Merry Christmas!
Don't worry, I'm sure no one would even consider sacrificing Merlan to the landshark.
Fiona grimaces as Sahar is struck again by the vicious jaws, leaving the woman clinging to consciousness by a thread. Channeling her anger into the end of her weapon, she jabs at the monster's gaping maw right as it's trying to pull away.
Fiona blinks at Eloen as if seeing the elf for the first time. What... what is she trying to accomplish? Elves don't have a sense of humor, at least not one humans understand, so she must be doing that on purpose. Their ways really are strange, just like Old Tabby used to tell us. Still looking like she's studying the talking tree, the tall warrior sighs. "We're just talking in circles. Dropping a misleading message seems like a good idea... but maybe we can make it even more misleading and keep them away from the mine and the drop. Tell them a back entrance to the mine has been found a few days' journey west, perhaps?"
Seems like the best thing to do at this point is split up and each take one plotline, right?
Now why would we need tokens, hmm?
Thaddeus squints at the chicken scratch on the walls, then at the fleeing chicken. "But that's not possible..." he mutters, looking around as if to see what other impossibilities this place may hold.
Instead of "cut scene" can we say... I don't know... "peaceful montage"? I'm just more comfortable not giving the DM any ideas.
Almost done... just feat & traits left.
... trying to magically animate their belly button lint. I mean, within reason. If the character in question is a certain animated halfling, that might be the reasonable assumption.
if he wants to throw a misleading or cursed object our way. I can tell we're going to have to work on the group mantra with you a bit. Say it with me now: "I will not give the DM any ideas."
"That was stupid," remarks the tall warrior as yet another foe underestimates her. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, "But thanks anyway."
I'd just like to say that I thoroughly approve of Romanian as Varisian.
Fine, ninja me while Paizo takes forever processing my post! I'm not bitter at all!
Oh, goody — I've been wanting to play with CH at some point, so this is a nice thing to come back to! And... apologies for disappearing on you guys like that. That's not the kind of PbPer I wanna be.
Really sorry for disappearing on everyone right there at the end — that's not the kind of PbPer I wanna be! Thanks all for a fun game and a great group... there wasn't even anyone I didn't like! :) And thanks for having me, DM. Hope to play with you all again sometime.
Zirt gasps at the bad man's actions, and particularly his disrespect toward the crypt and all the stories and lore that are represented here. With a big frown at him, she strides into the room and stands for a moment, hands on her hips as she glares at the situation. After just a few seconds, her spoons begin rattling even more loudly, pounding rhythmically even as she calls out, "Oh yeah? Well may the storm spare us, 'cuz at least we're humble! Err, I mean... may the storm spare us in our humility!" She pauses for a few beats, as if to see if anything happens, then continues, "By the way, you should know that you're a terrible shot! And you there — your choice of clothing is absolutely worse than the Great Clothier of Findoo, and everyone knows why he earned that moniker! You really ought to go change clothes right this minute! Imagine what your mother would say if she were here! Just imagine!" Her taunts don't always perfectly match the beat, but the spoons' rhythm seems to act almost as a counterpoint, accentuating her insults and adding a little extra sting. Mock:
... the creature is angered by the performance and seeks to harm the prankster. While the prankster maintains the mocking, the target takes a –2 penalty on all attack rolls and skill checks until it has successfully attacked the prankster with a melee or ranged attack, or has harmed the creature with a spell that deals damage. The invisible Benedict, meanwhile, continues toward the dais, climbing the stairs and chomping viciously at the red-clothed fellow's leg!
Benedict tilts his head and narrows his eyes at Quang Chi as the man begins looking downright mouse-like... but a moment later he gives a shake of his head and seems to remind himself that the monk isn't actually a delicious mouse. He allows the man to pick him up for the ride down, though at the rough landing he emits a sound almost like a sniff of annoyance...
Zirt, meanwhile, accepts Denair's offer of a flying trip down, calling out "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" right when it will echo the most.
Zirt grins conspiratorially at Frankie's prank, then starts off on a long-winded description of the cookies and tea that her aunt Salnivarinoskrznurt—Aunt Var, for short—used to prepare. The tea, it turns out, had a secret ingredient that Zirt spent years trying to discover, only to learn that it was actually just a pinch of oregano. Normal, plain old, everyday oregano, mind you! And that launches the wee gnome into a tale of long ago, when there were fifty different types of oregano, and how at one point the son of the Oregano King became enamored of a girl named Rosemary...
Benedict takes his time cleaning his fur from the battle, for all the world as if he can't understand a word of what's being discussed above him. Just as Vosk reaches out his hand, however, a gleam enters the wolverine's eye and he bares one tooth... almost as if he's grinning. Standing up on his hind legs, he noses the big man's hand in acceptance of the offer. At Quang Chi's whisper, he snorts contemptuously, almost as if to say, Pfft... who'd miss a chance to have that fellow as manservant? I can't wait to catch his scent when he loses... Zirt giggles softly as she watches the byplay, but doesn't interfere.
Benedict endures Frankie's hug with only a mild glare at Denair, as if blaming her for giving the boy the idea. As soon as he can do so in a dignified manner, however, he escapes their grasping arms and walks sedately over to where Zirt is standing. Only the smallest curl of his lip lets Denair and Frankie know that their rude action would have been met with quite a different reception under other circumstances.
Rees props his bow up in the corner opposite his bed, sets his dagger on the nightstand beside him, and yawns. Seeing Kleines remove his armor, the tall emerald-eyed elf frowns thoughtfully for a moment and takes a step toward his bed before sighing softly and removing his own armor. Doesn't mean I think I'm safe, but he'd be sure to report me if I left it on after he removed his. He'd probably think I don't trust him, instead of just... all of them.
"But who would want to bother a lovely plant?!" exclaims Zirt, just entering the room from her extensive study of the security vine. "I suppose if you could talk to them, they would have some great stories! Do you think the thief wanted to steal them to hear their stories?"
Maybe they used holey water.
Funny thing is, I'm pretty sure we have a /lot/ fewer bugs than most places. The truck broke down at over 8,000ft elevation — I don't know of many bugs that can even live that high up. (I recognize that this might make such a bug even more fearsome a foe...)
Benedict tilts his head ever so slightly at Quang Chi, then drops his nose to the ground and begins sniffing intently. Zirt beams at the gnome-sized human, though her eyes widen as he refers to her friends as "pets". "Be careful!" she exclaims, "they aren't pets!!" As the boy charges in his direction, Jadrek the massive grizzly raises himself on his hind legs and makes a very loud blowing noise, then clacks his teeth together equally loudly! When the boy continues forward, the big bear turns and runs headlong down the street, stopping four buildings down and huffing loudly. The big fluffy dog wags its tail wildly and runs over to Frankie, giving him a sloppy lick right across his face and then leaning into the boy . The short-haired dog's ears stand up straight and its hackles rise, but Frankie's gentle approach soothes it and it finally lets him scratch its chest, giving a sedate, dignified wag of its tail in response.
Indeed. It would appear that something punctured the radiator in a rather spectacular way. Has now been patched and should make it home.
Zirt claps her hands gleefully at the wooden-armed talking fox-thing, nearly forgetting to accept its proffered hand. "Oh my! Will you tell me the story of you and this Meredith Boss? I've never seen anyone like you! Though, there was one time my aunt's sister—" She breaks off as the door opens onto the shop and she spots the disarray within. "Oh dear..." she whispers, her eyes wide as saucers. "Poor Mister Chert. So many beautiful plants! Why would anyone want to hurt someone who grows plants? Why, look, he even has Bordik root! I didn't even know that grew here! It makes a lovely tea, you know, and it's even better if you mix it with Snurkin's Fist in not-quite-equal proportions." Busily talking of tea, the gnome nods politely, if a bit distractedly, at Quang Chi's bow. The wolverine, however, raises its head from sniffing the floor and gives the monk a long look. It might be coincidence... except that a moment later it raises its head and bares one sharp fang at the Baronet when excluded from his greeting. Zirt, meanwhile, trails off and glances between Vosk and Quang Chi in confusion. "Er. Hello!" Seeming to catch her balance, she smiles at both of them, then directs her curiosity at Vosk. "I do hope you'll pardon me if I ask you what an Onet is! And you'll have to say hello to my friend Jadrek outside, because I guess you're cousins! Do you turn into a bear all the way, or only partially? And can you control it? Do you find that having "Bear" in your title... oh dear. Oh dear me, I'm being very rude. My mother used to warn me about being rude..." Putting one dainty hand up to her mouth, she glances around the room in consternation, as if not sure whether she should run away.
Just as the groups disappear into the home and shop, there's a high-pitched yell from down the street: Anyone who happens to look out sees a massive grizzly bear making its lumbering way down the street as passersby scatter left and right. Riding atop the bear is a smiling (and slightly anxious-looking) gnome, patting the bear's head with one hand while trying to use the other to urge it to greater speed. A few paces away from the bear, a large, fluffy dog trots next to a vicious-looking wolverine and an even larger short-haired dog which ripples with muscle as it moves. A tiny serpent peers out from behind the gnome curiously, beady black eyes glittering with intelligence in its fox-like head. As the menagerie reaches the doors, the gnome hops gracefully down from the bear's shoulders and smiles at everyone—and anyone—who happens to be watching. Taking in the situation with big innocent eyes, the gnome claps her hands together and smiles at the landlady. "Oh, hello! I'm so sorry I'm late, I came as quickly as I could, but Jadrek here"—she pats the bear on its foot fondly—"decided to eat an entire cauldron of stew last night and four biscuits, even though I told him it wasn't a good idea. Bears are such silly creatures! And Gregarious and Tseka were arguing about which of them I'd ride over here, and so I couldn't ride either, you know how dogs are. I am glad you heard me before you got inside and closed the door! These houses have such thick walls, I don't know if you would have ever heard me knocking, and poor Tseka has very sensitive hearing, you know." The gnome's eyes light momentarily on the doorframe, and she shakes her head. "Oh dear, Jadrek, you'll never fit in there. And you two—no, no, I think Benedict had better come with me. Tseka, Gregarious, Jadrek, you stay outside and guard dear old Mister Chert, so nothing else happens to him!" So saying, the small gnome motions to the wolverine and moves inside, looking all around as though she's never seen a shop before. DM:
I have news for all: Audit Week has ended and I yet live. Should be recovered and back to posting in the next few days. Thanks for your patience!
Rees moves into the room, glancing around at the goings-on as he considers the situation. If we were truly Elders, we would not accept such disrespect, he thinks. After a moment, he clears his throat. "Do we look like we're here to clean?" he asks, allowing a slight rumble into his tone. "Your worthy task is to clean; ours is... not your concern."
So saying, he motions to the other Pathfinders to follow and strides purposefully toward the doors leading deeper into the compound.
Fiona lets out a gusty sigh, as Merlan's "magic" once again disappoints her. Watching Sahar and Xiaruau light up stones as well, she chews her lip, frowning. When Merlan suggests watching the orcs and then letting them leave, she shakes her head. "It's no use. How're you going to watch them when none of us can see a thing without a light? You think they're just going to say, 'Oh, some unusual light. Oh well, we'll just open our secret stash and ignore it'? I can't see a thing out here, just vague shapes when the moonlight hits just right." She turns to Lani. "Your kind can see in the dark, right? If that's the case, then Lani has to be our lookout — and decide whether or not we need to attack them. I'll have to stand near one of you light-bearers, since I can't make rocks glow."
"That seems like an excellent idea," replies Rees, as he watches an angry-looking halfling take another drink. "At the current rate, I estimate most of the attendees here will be fully asleep within three hours. There aren't likely to be more fights while we're gone." He eyes The Amazing Coco speculatively, then nods. "Three hours."
Rees glances around at the guests starting to arrive, and shakes his head. "I am not an Elder, but I can try to help keep order." Throwing a meaningful glance toward Nico, the emerald-eyed elf then cocks his head ever so slightly at Garif, clearly implying, You have a hard enough time with one cat; how are you ever going to manage other people's animals? I suppose I'll help you, even after that dig earlier about not being productive. Hrmph.
Rees shakes his head, bewildered, but keeps silent. He does throw Garif a side-long glance, as if to say, These people... if you wait until there's 'proof', someone will have already been injured or killed. No wonder their communities are such a mess! The slightest lift of his right eyebrow seems to add, Surely your tribe knows better, right?
Rees frowns thoughtfully as he listens to the problem and Damiar's 'solution'. Things don't work the same way out here... but... Finally, he speaks up. "Why not just arrest both of them?" he asks, clearly honestly curious. "When someone is causing problems in the Community — any community — it's just good sense to remove them, at least until they can be rehabilitated."
Rees listens to his companions' banter quietly as he watches the room, hoping against hope that she is here somewhere... or will be. Maybe this will all finally be over, and we can go home. No better place to look for her... if I can just stomach all this decadent waste for a little while. Glancing over at Garif, the tall, emerald-eyed elf tilts his head slightly, as if to inquire, Are we meant to be offering assistance, or...? I was under the impression that this was going to be one of your fancy 'parties' — where are all the decadently wasteful celebrants? |
