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"Huh," he huffs, staring at the solid shadow. "I don't even know anymore. Maybe I never did."
"Where is it? Did it turn invisible or something?" the dwarf turns about, trying to spy some evidence of the missing doppelganger.
--- The dwarf takes position next to Nodachi, dropping into a boxer's stance. He nods, signaling that he's ready.
"Survivors of what?" the dwarf asks as he hefts the bag of unclaimed items, "Do you know what happened to this place?"
"Me neither," Ironhand agrees, "And I'm definitely not crazy! At least, I don't think so..."
The dwarf initially sees only a lost old woman, and he almost steps forward to help her, but something in the way his companions react prompts him to reevaluate. "Forgive our paranoia, but it's odd seeing anyone wandering alone in this place."
“Greetings, friend. I’m not a ‘Danny’, at least I don’t think so. We’ve all lost our names, and any memories that went with them. I’m guessing you’re the same?” the dwarf replies. “We’ve taken nicknames. I am Ironhand, your first guess was close.”
The dwarf steps back from the flailing entrails, turning his attention to one of the disembodied hands. He brings his metal arm down upon it.
"Undead?" Ironhand asks, eyes going wide, "Then let's make these abominations RE-dead!" He steps forward and attacks the corpse's head.
Ironhand looks around the room. “Figures this wouldn’t be straight forward.” He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts “HO THERE! WHERE ARE YOU?”
The dwarf blinks at the disembodied voice, then decides it's one of the least strange things he has encountered in the last hour. "Sure thing, doll, you can come with us." He looks toward the source of the distressed-sounding limerick. "Sounds like someone may have found one of these doppelgangers, let's go!"
"Oh, um, ok then." the dwarf mutters, looking to change the subject.
Ironhand peeks out into the windy courtyard. "It's just some kid." he mutters, "What's a kid doing in a place like this?" He steps out into the courtyard, slowly approaching the 'child', but remaining wary in case it proves to be more than what it seems. "Hello there, lass," he calls out in as friendly a voice as he can manage, "What is this place? Do you know where we are?"
“Ugh, now what?” Ironhand grumbles, “If reality could just stabilize for a little while, that would be nice.” He looks around, shaking his head a bit. The critters were gone, and so was the goblin. “Huh, good riddance, I suppose.”
Hello, checking in late because I'm bad at checking my PMs
6+ can be awkward
Sounds good
Oh damn. That’s a better excuse than most!
I can stand by for a good while
"HA HA!" Flush with success, the dwarf steps forward and swings for the other bug.
He slips a little in the ichor of the first in his enthusiasm, missing.
Ironhand steps up into the doorway and slams his fist down at one of the vermin.
I'm sad. I was looking forward to developing the relationship between our characters.
"I think I might be able to reach the roof." the dwarf says, flexing his metal hand, "Only way to know is to try."
Here!
Rogar steps a bit further into the room, then stoops low to get a peek under the boilers. "What have we here?"
“Yeah, can’t blame ‘em.” Ironhand mutters, following the swordswoman through the next door.
Ironhand simply stays quiet, feeling that diplomacy is not his forte. He tries to subtly angle his body to hide his strange prosthetic.
Ironhand follows the swordswoman through the door. "That's quite a few doors. We'll have to check each one, don't want any creepy crawlies getting behind us." He heaves a resigned sigh. "Let's get to it." he says, heading for the nearest door, then pressing his ear against it.
"I vote we get out of this... compound or whatever it is entirely and look for some semblance of civilization." Ironhand mutters as he follows the group.
Remembering his last encounter with yellow fog(dream though it may have been), Ironhand readies himself for a fight or flight.
Ironhand is about to climb the pile of bodies when he gets an idea. He looks at his metal hand thoughtfully. "I wonder..." He steps onto the pile just far enough to see the edge of the hatch above, then takes aim with his hand. With a THUNK and rattling of chain, his hand flies up past Nodachi, to attempt to grab onto the rim of the hatch.
"HA! Up we go!" the dwarf cheers, and begins reeling himself up the pipe.
Ironhand waits at the bottom, trying to get a look up the shaft while coming into contact with as little of the grisly pile as possible.
Ironhand moves to the door with Nodachi.
“I can see in the dark, so I’ll take point.” he says, “Preacher, bring that lantern. Let’s get moving. When we get out of here, maybe we can find someone to buy that instrument you found, should fetch about fifty gold at least.”
Ironhand rolls his eyes at the antics of his companions. He turns his attention to getting into a suit of heavy leather armor that seems to fit him perfectly. “Won’t catch me climbing up some filthy old flue. We ought to just block it up and move out through the door like civilized folk.” He glances over at Preacher, who has dug an old instrument out of the refuse.
Aye!
The dwarf stops digging to stare at the goblin in incredulous shock. "You? You made... BWAHAHA!!" He collapses in a fit of uproarious, derisive laughter. "A GOBLIN... built a... HA!" Recovering, he goes back to searching for anything remotely familiar in the pile. "BAH! I'm sure we'll eventually remember whatever poor sap you stole it from. Just don't come whining to me when you end up blowing your own head off." He looks up sharply at the noise. "That's probably our 'friend'. Let's get moving before it finds us more 'friends'."
The dwarf flexes his strange prosthetic. "Ironhand." He steps over to the rubbish pile and starts digging through the scraps. "Aye, we're definitely underground. Sticking together is likely the best plan. We'll need to watch each other's backs in case the 'Good Doctor' decides to drop in." He pauses in his rummaging to point at the goblin. "And if no one's going to try and take that gun away from the goblin, it'll need to stay where I can see it."
The dwarf is busy grumbling to himself while reloading his arm, when he notices what the goblin is doing. "What the... is that a firearm?" He slowly steps toward the goblin, hands out in front of him in what he hopes is a calming gesture. "Now, I don't know where you found that, but those things are really dangerous. Let's just set it down before anyone gets hurt, aye? I'm guessing we're all in the same predicament here."
Rogar grabs at the thing as it slips around him, but can't get a hold on it. As his companions chase it down the hallway, he aims his metal hand at the fleeing creature. Let's see if I can do this on command. Just reach out and grab...
His hand flies down the hallway, hitting the creature square in the back! It fails to catch on to anything, however, and falls to the floor with a clank.
Rogar waves away the proffered lantern. "I think I'm getting the hang of this!" he says, taking another swing at the monster.
Rogar points at the goblin. “Will somebody shut that thing up? I can’t even hear myself think!” He circles his foe to put himself between it and the door, then attempts to grab it again.
Rogar attempts to grab the creature as it tries to flee.
"I didn't say you could leave!"
"GAH!" Rogar staggers back from the pain of the jagged cut, before rallying and giving chase. "Get back here! He goes in for a flying tackle!
And he still seems to be off balance. Perhaps he's not used to the weight of his arm?
Wait, answers! This thing might know something. Rogar switches tactics to subduing the creature, rather than killing it.
"I'm cutting in line!" Rogar shouts, then takes a swing at the thing with his metal arm.
Rogar struggles with his hand for a moment before figuring out how to align and reattach it. The hardest part is shoving it back into its socket against the force of what feels like a very powerful spring. By the time it's back in place, his cellmate has the door open and is slinking out into the "operating room". "I'll give ya a distraction." Rogar whispers, then charges the mad "doctor". "YAAA! GET OFF HIM YA FREAK!"
Rogar reaches through the bars with his fleshy yet functioning arm, grabbing at the creepy woman herself.
The dwarf pauses in his assault of the prison bars to glare at his captor, whereupon he notices the ring of keys at her belt. If only she were a bit closer, I could reach out and... He reflexively acts out the motion, and with a sudden metallic BANG, his hand launches off his wrist, trailing a length of chain as it flies towards the keys!
He jumps back from the bars swearing, and the chain immediately retracts, reeling in his hand with a clatter. His hand is left dangling from his wrist by a short length of chain. "WHAT IN THE SCREAMING ABYSS?!"
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