"Justice is served," Silva drawls when the impromptu paperwork is filled out and filed, destined to be sequestered in some dark place and forgotten.
Search Posts
I missed a good chunk of the game, but I believe it was mentioned that the merc wasn't really involved with any of the creepy cult stuff, so Silva would have been fine with letting him off easy.
"Hey, it's not too late to push the lot of them off a cliff," Silva offers, looking rather pleased with himself.
"Got it, Lieutenant," Silva says as he rolls up his sleeves again (they keep falling down). The sorcerer extraordinaire mumbles a very brief incantation and encircles his eyes with his thumbs and index fingers, forming goggles. He then tiptoes forward and peeks around the corner, peering at whatever it is that Samara spoke of.
Silva stands ready to unleash his arcane power the moment the door opens. In the meantime he shifts around uncomfortably, the magical straw in his pockets making his legs a little itchy, even through the fabric of his pants.
As Davben saunters off, Silva stuffs some of the magical straw down his pants pockets for no apparent reason. "Who wants to bet that everyone in Thistletop knows we're here at this point?" he asks no one in particular, sounding more amused than terrified. Or maybe he is just crazy.
"Maybe diving into the belly of the beast wasn't such a great idea," Silva says with a shrug. "We should wipe out everything on this floor, first. Maybe there's another way down, maybe not. But honestly, the big guy was the only real threat we ran into down there, and he's dead now." "Let's try those doors," he says, pointing back at the nearby set of double doors.
Okay, THAT just happened, Silva thinks, panting once the group has reached their little "safe" zone. Somehow, everybody was still in one piece... more or less. As he catches his breath, calming down after that near disaster, the sorcerer seems to revert to his ordinary self. This time around, the smile that cracks onto his face does seem a tad bit forced, however. "I'd cast hold portal to hold some doors shut... except I don't know that spell. I'm pretty sure that no sorcerer in history has ever known it," he chatters, stretching out his back. "By the way, wasn't that big guy one of those 'heroes' Shalelu mentioned waaay back then? Remember? That makes two that we've dealt with."
Silva's head jolts, as though he had been the one who took a flail to the head. The cocky grin that was on his face wavers as his brain processes the scene before him. "Samara...?" Another painful thwack follows, and Zara too, is laid low. "Zara...?" After several painfully long seconds, comprehension seems to dawn on the scrawny sorcerer. He bares his teeth once more, not in one of his typical smiles, but in an expression of pure rage. "You son of a b*~%!!" he shouts as he runs down the stairs. He tosses one of his hands out at the bugbear, unleashing a small maelstrom of colors.
Here is Silva's new statblock. Hopefully we can prevent Samara from getting bonked again. :( Sexier Silva: Male human sorcerer (tattooed sorcerer) 4
CG Medium humanoid (human) Init +6; Senses Perception +2 DEFENSE
OFFENSE
STATISTICS
"Yeah, just put me in the middle. I don't even have to aim with this thing," Silva remarks, twirling his wand in between his fingers while staring at the brief moment of intimacy between Damieka and Davben. He says nothing of the fact that his wand was actually running out of charges rather quickly...
The sudden appearance of the bugbear is rather off-putting, but Silva was not about to let that slip him up. "Aren't you a little tall for a goblin?" he asks as he flicks his wand at him.
Silva rolls up his sleeves a little further up his arms for dramatic effect, and then pulls his magic missile wand back out.
Silva raises a finger in protest of Nicea's rat remark, but the words don't quite come out of his mouth. Fortunately, Davban and Samara show up just in time to save his bacon. "Woo! There she goes!" Silva exclaims as their fearless leader takes the, well, lead. Before anyone else can go down, he catches Davben with an elbow bump. "Hold up, I almost forgot something..." The sorcerer sorts through his wand collection, taking out the one they had specifically acquired for situations like these. "I know you naked punchy types don't like wearing armor, so this is the next best thing," he says, poking the monk and bestowing him with mage armor. After a moment, he jabs himself in the arm as well. "And well, I don't like getting stabbed, so I guess I'll do me too."
"I don't think we've raised any alarms, so we might as well go in deep," Silva says while popping his knuckles.
"Man, this is so easy," Silva remarks as he stretches out his back. "I don't know what Nualia was thinking, using goblins as her minions."
Silva gestures lazily with his free hand, causing the blood on his dagger, arms and robe to just slough off and drip to the ground. Satisfied with his handiwork, he then sheathes his blade - he'd leave the stabbing to the lieutenant next time. "Eh, these are just the small fry. I'm sure someone here has something worth a damn."
"Ewww..." Silva looks down at his blood-splattered robe, aghast. He nods to Nicea, indicating that he is ready to move on to the next one. Very reluctantly, he prepares to repeat the grisly dead, waiting for the captain's signal.
This is gonna get messy, Silva thinks, preemptively rolling up his sleeves as Nicea starts her countdown. The sorcerer aims the tip of his dagger over one of the goblins' closed eyes, trying to get the angle just right. Once the captain gives the circle, Silva shoves the dagger into the goblin's skull as hard as he can.
"Awww, they look so cute when they're sleeping," Silva whispers in a mocking tone. The sorcerer exchanges his wand for his dagger, which has not exactly seen much use. He looks down at it with a frown. "Guess we have to kill them. Can't be having them screaming their heads off."
"Holy shit!" Silva says helpfully, in regards to Nicea's display of martial prowess.
After a few moments of picking at his ear, Silva saunters over to join Nicea, making no attempts to be stealthy about it. He figured that he couldn't possibly be noisier than she was being. As he closes in on her, his nose wrinkles up, picking up on an awful smell. He almost makes a colorful joke, but decides that he has done enough to annoy the crazy lady with the scythe.
"Yeah, their collection of dirty rags and seagull bones will be worth a fortune!"
Silva regards each individual trophy with a different expression of mock disgust, but quickly grows bored of this. With a sigh he sulks over to the doors to the north, before raising a hand to mime a knocking gesture. "Well, we're in. Are we still doing this quietly, or are we gonna start howling goblin murder at the top of our lungs?"
Silva follows after Samara, stroking the stubble on his chin as he assesses their surroundings. "These goblins should fire their interior decorator," he remarks, gesturing at the grisly trophies.
Silva had not meant to start a competition, but he is more than pleased with the results. He is a good sport, after all. "I should suggest something like this for the next Swallowtail Festival," he remarks, after witnessing Davben's impressive throw. He then glances again at the watchtower with a slight frown. "Hm. Well, let's invite ourselves in. We've got some more work to do."
"Hold up," Silva says, eyeing the guard tower. "I know you have a lot of fun with that thing, but let's just chuck 'em off the cliff." After putting away his wand, he starts dragging one of the goblin corpses back toward the bridge. His grunting insinuates that this is a herculean effort for him. "That way... they won't be... any the wiser."
"You're naming it? Now that's just adorable. Uh. Please don't kill me."
"Man, I almost feel sorry for these guys. Almost. Okay, so not at all, really," Silva yammers as he lazily flicks his wand again, sending another two force missiles at the failure of a goblin.
By some miracle, Silva makes it all the way up the cliff and across the bridge without opening his mouth a single time. No complaints about his aching arms, no lewd remarks, and no bragging about his arcane might. Once he sees the stupid goblins however, he laughs out. "Finally!" he calls out, whipping out his handy dandy wand of magic missile. With a swish and flick of his wrist, he sends two guided projectiles of force hurtling towards one of the goblins in the back of the group.
"Well that was easy," Silva remarks once they've come out on the other side. He rolls his shoulders around, his arms feeling like they could have come out of their sockets. At least he was able to hold his breath. The sorcerer takes one look at the choppy waters between their beach and the giant rock, letting out a huff. "All right, back to square one. How the hell are we getting across? I mean, don't get me wrong, that bridge up there doesn't exactly look like my idea of fun either."
"Hey, here's an idea," Silva starts as he lowers himself into the water. "Why don't you just fish out of the other side like we did with the bunyip? We could just hold onto the rope, while you and 'Ben pull us out."
"Sure, I can fly," Silva claims, wiggling his fingers around. "I can also stop time and blow people up with my mind. I just don't because it'd make you punching, stabbing folks look bad." "But in all seriousness, if any of you can get another rope down from that cliff, then I'm game. Because, uh, the noodle arm thing. I'd rather my obituary not read 'cracked his skull on a sharp rock.'"
"Yeah, well, better you than m- Oh wait, you're back already," Silva says with genuine surprise when Davben rejoins them. Of course, he tries very hard not to seem too impressed. "Not bad for a guy who punches thing for a living, I guess."
"Whoa whoa whoa, hold up," Silva says, backing away from Nicea and her rope. "I'm no stranger to being tied up, but I'm no deep diver. Let Zara take a shot at it. That slick armor of hers shouldn't give her any trouble."
As he waits on the others to decide on what to do (while working on his suntan), Silva turns back to their "treasure" and attempts to identify the arrows' properties.
"Only about mine, I'm afraid," Silva says to Nicea with a melodramatic sigh. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure I can swim across, but we'd need someone to get a rope down from those cliffs if we're going that route. Otherwise, I vote that we go back up and blast away some goblins before we run out of sunlight."
"Lemme see. If that bone is what I think it is, it might be of use to us." The sorcerer snaps his fingers, casting his cantrip, and then squints at the wand, scratching at his beard.
"Well, this thing's magic all right. But I have no idea what the hell it does."
"Oh, I heard them all right. That's the whole reason we were in such a rush to get down into the damn hole. For nothing, apparently. Well, except that treasure." Silva sighs dramatically.
"Huh. It is a farming tool, isn't?" Silva says, staring at Nicea's scythe while stroking his chin.
Silva blinks. "Uh. Maybe setting the entire Nettlewood on fire isn't such a good idea."
"Ugh. This would be a whole lot easier if we had a boat or two," Silva complains, watching the tide with crossed arms. He then looks over at Zara with a frown. "I hate to say it, but we might have to go back the way we came. There could be goblins waiting for us, but I doubt it'll be anything we can't handle."
"That 'thing from the water' was a bunyip," Silva says matter-of-factly as they wade through the water. "It's a good thing we fished it out - they're usually a lot more dangerous than that. But out of water..." The sorcerer does his best half-assed impression of a bloated flopping fish.
"Well, I thought I heard some goblins up above," Silva replies, pointing his chin up the shaft. "Between the rope and corpse we left up there, they're bound to figure out we're down here sooner or later. Might be safer to hit the beach."
Oh wait, forgot about rule 4 I guess. Were we using the advancement track?
After flailing around uselessly for a few seconds, Silva manages to get his legs around the rope. He slowly shimmies all the way down to ground, promptly dusting off his pants. "Nailed it!"
I'd be fine with just tossing all of them out the window. Plus rule 6 is technically worded incorrectly. Shooting into a melee is a -4 penalty (unless you have Precise Shot), while soft cover is a bonus to the target's AC. This came up because we were fighting Tsuto in a cramped hallway, but an archer would usually have the means to circumvent both problems; Precise Shot for the melee penalty, and shooting from a better angle for the soft cover penalty.
Silva calls down, lying through his teeth. But they were almost surely talking about him down there. The sorcerer glances around for goblins one more time before preparing to lower himself down the opening.
"Ready, or not, here I co- Oh shit!" His feet slip out from beneath him, but fortunately his grip on the rope is just tight enough to stop him from falling in. Silva is left dangling there, his legs kicking around beneath him.
|