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Wild moves into the room to take a look around. The sight of a dead orc is not bothersome, but when he sees mining picks near a tunnel opening, he becomes uncharacteristically cautious. Wild whispers quietly, begins sniffing the air then slowly creeps to the edge of the tunnel to peer inside. "Could be a bad place now." Better not be bad dwarves here. Bad dwarves would be very... BAD!
Wild stays with the others as they decide to go back up to the surface. He follows Vethorm in particular, chewing his jerky and muttering to himself. "We go down... We go up... We go down... We go up..."
Wild pauses his search and begins rummaging through his dirty kilt pockets immediately. The thought of food is clearly motivating, and he replies to Purg with enthusiasm. "Yes! I always have food for sharing!" He produces a jar of thick magic liquid, pops the top and gives it a sniff but soon winces. He throws it on the ground. "Nope! That's gone bad. Don't eat that." Finally, he pulls out a string of jerky and blows some crumbs off of it. Wild hands a piece to Purg and a piece to Othdan before chomping down heartily on a piece for himself. "Now this is good eats! Made by orcs!"
I'm here too! Woo!
Sorry all. I know it's been a long wait. Word on the street is that he intends to fire this back up next week after he gets home from Geekway in MO (a much-needed vacation after some extensive work). So maybe next Tuesday? Fingers crossed. I, for one, am very excited to continue.
I'm here, but given that we haven't heard from Jscot for a long while, we may be at an end. I hope not. I know him irl and that he's still on pause, but very eager to get back into it. I suspect another week or so (after tax season concludes and some other business-related matters resolve). I'm glad everyone is alive and in relatively good health! I'm also very eager to get restarted and I know our patience will be rewarded :)
Wild is only half-heartedly paying attention to the conversation while he searches for shiny things in the room. However, he comments out loud when he hears about some potential suspects. Killer won't need these anymore once we find them! HO HO HO!" "Oh HO HO! Big gutted orc brute could be the killer! Or the wet mouth talker! Maybe two killers!? Very close now, I think. Yes!"
Wild checks behind him when Robin looks at him, also hoping someone else will rise to the challenge of door destruction. He smiles back with some relief as Vethorm nimbly goes to work. His attention now fixed on the scene with tense anticipation. "You see!? There are tales spoke in the clans of sacred orcs who can shatter boulders with bare hands. More power in one finger than a dozen cave trolls! Such was the first founder of the Shattered Moon. Vethorm too has this might, I know it! Wait and watch! HEhehe..."
When Wild finally recovers from paralysis, he immediately begins retching goopy fluid that sizzles when it hits the floor. He looks at Ranhild and nods. "Yuck! Tastes like burning!" He stands up unsteadily at first, but seems to walk it off quickly once the healing reaches him.
Loot sheet has been updated Cool. Looks like there's still a potion of cure light wounds unclaimed from a while back. Anyone opposed if Wild takes it? He's a little accident prone.
With a howl and fist forward approach, Wild gleefully follows Ranhild into the gooey center of goodness. HAH! Blurp..."
Wild looks back at Vetorm and grins widely, showing off all of his crooked teeth. He turns to the glob of goo and shouts. "AH AHAHAH!!!! DIG IN!"
After delivering a clumsy spinning back hand to the slime, he bounces off a bit more than he intended to. At least he's still facing the enemy.
Wild perks up at Vethorm's discovery.
He moves into position to face what's coming head on with only his bare hands.
"Yes! We don't want to eat skinny, hungry, angry rats. I bet all the fat, happy rats live underground with the killer!" All this talk of food is making me hungry... I wonder if Purg knows how to cook snakes AND rats too? I'm sure he does. Probably why he wants to collect them all now before someone else can. He is very smart. Still... we should go down and fight the killer before our stomachs outmatch our brains. Wild's facial expressions convey a mixture of deep thought and confusion. He paws impatiently at Vethorm's cloak. "You will lead now, yes? We will follow you."
Wild raises his arm excitedly in response to Robin's question. "Ooh! I know the answer: I want to go kill the killer in the suspicious basement!" He grin widely, clearly quite proud of himself. "I can see the future, you know. Yes!"
Wild looks up with Vethorm at the statue. "Got any faith for this one, friend? She is calling for hope and prayers from her subjects... Bah! This place is empty. We should leave it that way." He turns to head back down.
Hmm. Something is not right here. We should not go back... but Vethorm is brave and strong. He will know the right way. Wild climbs back up the ladder after Vethorm and takes up position next to Purg. He leans over and whispers in the goblin's ear. Purg:
"Don't worry, Purg. Your secret is safe with me. I like eating rats too! Very tasty. Dwarves are greedy and tricksy and want them all for themselves! But we know.. hehehe... The best way to spot the biggest rats is from far away, then skewer them with pointy sticks!" He puts away his glaive and takes out his shortbow, aiming it at the south door with presumably hundreds of rats beyond. Clearly, he is waiting for someone else to step forward and open it. "Yes! Bravery! Strength! We cannot stay here. We must go. I am ready!"
Wild sticks out his tongue and tries to wipe off the flavor with limited success. Afterwards, he closes and pockets the jar. "Yuck! You are right! This is not a very good healing potion at all." Same map, just over to the right (East).
He looks up to Vethorm. "I do not think the killer is up. Which way do you think we should go? I will follow you, friend!" Wild grins widely at the half-orc.
"Secrets cannot hide from us! HA HA! Errg... Ugh..." Wild grimaces in pain from the recent strain on his leg. Too much... need to get stronger. Need help. Giving a weak smile to Vethorm "Maybe someone else can kick down the next door, yes?" He turns his attention toward the chest and assists Ranhild in rummaging through its contents. When he finds a jar of thick liquid he doesn't recognize, he throws caution to the wind, removes the stopper, and takes a tiny sip.
This might take the pain away? hmm?
Wild scratches his bald head for a moment, then snaps his fingers when a brilliant plan begins to form in his mind. Hmmm... Tricky. Tricky. Tricky. How would a strong, mighty warrior handle this? Ah ha! Yes! That's it! He quickly shoves the bed aside and suddenly jumps up to kick through the door as hard as he can. "Ah HAH HAH!
I don't have any strong opinions one way or the other. I've never used Discord for pbp before so I'd need to learn it also if we decided to switch.
Wild points out the hidden trapdoor under the bed to the others. "Look. Look. Look! A floor door! Lots of killers go deep down underground to hide. This one must be a very sneaky killer..." He squats down near the bed and begins to examine underneath it.
Along with the groups' festive musings, Wild smiles when he remembers the bottle of healing liquid hidden away in his dirty kilt pockets. He takes it out and quaffs it sloppily. "A little drink. A drink. A drink to help me think."
A moment later, he steps up to where Robin is positioned and sniffs the air. "Smells like a good door to me." He opens the door casually...
"No. No. No. Runes are not art." Pointing at the wall. "Runes are messages. This one says "Skreed". Probably a great big orc... or a tribe... or a warning... or a latrine. Orcs use words for all kinds of things. Whatever it is, we should still eat their snakes." Wild stands up and collects the serpentine remains as best he can. He hands the juiciest morsels to Purg. "You can cook these, yes? Meat makes might."
Wild adds to the conversation with Robin and Ranhild's speculations. "Yes! The killer thief is here waiting to be killed. We must bring to them the End. Take the knife. Take the life..." He sort of rambles off to himself, then sits down near the rock wall covered in jagged runes and begins to tend to his bizarre, mechanical weapon. "Eat the snakes. Eat the poison. Poison the weapon. Poison the killer..."
Feeling reinvigorated, Wild steps back into the fray alongside his companions but with far less fervor than before.
The blade of his weapon churns to a halt as it fetches nothing but air.
A flash of clarity and despair appears on Wild's face as he recognizes his companions. Thanks to Vethorm and Robin's words of warning, Wild reverts his stance toward the enemy and strikes.
It is clear that his wounds and the poison coursing through his veins are beginning to take their toll. He steps back toward the rock wall to brace himself after an off-balance attack. His rage fades...
Wild stares at his own blood dripping down his arm for a split second, then attacks the large snake with a garbled roar. He yanks the cord on his crafted glaive forcing it to sing its rusty tune. "BLAOR!! GAWARRAW!!"
Blinded by his uncontrolled rage, he swings far too wide and ends up facing the other direction toward his companions.
Wild raises his fist and cheers loudly at the poor snake's demise. Unfortunately, he fails to notice the greater danger before it's too late. "AROOO!!... OWW!"
"Purg is right! Don't let lunch get away!" Wild turns and chases after the runaway snake, stabbing far in hopes to skewer it.
Wild cackles in response to the slithering onslaught and just keeps swinging. AHA HAHAH!"
Wild takes the cue from Vethorm and rushes through the door with violent intent, growling in orcish as well. „Přijdu blíž a teď tě vykuchám! Roar!“ Orc:
"I'll come closer and gut you now! Rawr!"
He swings his glaive "wildly" at the nearest not-dog.
Suddenly pulled from his thoughts as if struck by an epiphany, Wild beams with joy at the old man's suggestion to go to the Plague House. "Yes! That's it! To the trolls and giants is the way we must go!" He looks up at Ranhild. "It is good that you know these creatures. I've seen them too. Very strong. We need strength."
Does he know of the great calamity? Is that why he hides? I know what's coming too!! Excitement builds within Wild as he prepares to launch into a big speech about the end of the world... but instead he pauses with his mouth agape. No... That's not it. It's not time yet. Is it? Lost in a war of thought with himself, Wild only manages a silent tirade of confused facial expressions.
"Plague House! Yes! We should go to the place NO ONE goes! The god shamans here say I have a plague leg now so I am ready!" Wild nods excitedly at Purg's suggestion. He then looks at Vethorm and smiles. "We made promises to go to there during yesterday's darkness, remember? Today is good too. If Katrezra oracle is old and smart, looking for truths like us, he will be there. Talking is not seeing."
"As you say. Some kind of disease... Good for a new scar maybe. That happens sometimes." Wilds smiles at the concerned priest. "Do not fear. I will not die from disease! AH HA HA!"
Wild nods at Purg. He slaps his now healed bruise but winces slightly in pain. "Right. Got me right in the leg, stinking wolf pup! Got any good medicines here?"
Wild was unsure of what to do after everyone departed to their respective lodgings in silent contemplation of the day's events. His own thoughts raced through the length of his past up to the present. This wasn't his home and he felt starkly alone. The others didn't seem to understand how empty it becomes, to lose one home after the next. One family after another. Or maybe they did understand? Rodrick clearly meant a lot to the townsfolk here. Enough to fight and die for. He was as good as kin to all it seemed. But Groetus teaches that nothingness is the ultimate goal of life. It must end. We must all die... His vision clouds with ash and smoke, rivers of lava washing across the lands above and below. Suddenly, he finds himself screaming inside the halls of the Ramblehouse as if suffering a lifetime of pain all at once. But somehow still alone. Was it just in his head? He looks around in a panic and sees the door to Purg's room. He thinks to knock but hesitates. Madness has a cost, he thinks. He's lost his key. His leg hurts but he cannot stay here. He keeps walking until he's outside once again and feels the warm night air on his skin. To the Stones! We must go to the Barterstones. The guards at the gate don't question his desire to leave town and happily oblige his somber request to open up. Laying upon the cold, hard stones beyond the walls, Wild finds some measure of peace in his solitude before the dawn breaks. Gently nudged awake by a merchant wanting his stall space, Wild hops up in a jolt. Without a word, he wanders around until he finds his companions gathered and talking. "All not dead? Back to the killer finding, yes!?"
Wild nods in agreement at the drunken man's hopelessness. He whispers softly, almost like a prayer. "We all find salvation in nothingness. Those that know the End Times and those that don't." After several moments, he looks up at Robin an offers a suggestion. "If nobody seen the murder-maker, maybe somebody smelled the stinky tattoo-faced, yellow-haired half-orc? We need a smell tracker!"
"Bah! Freedom Town is not free!" Wild balks loudly at the mention of the place, having recovered most of his strength. "Full of thieveses and fail takers better off dead. Shattered Moon Clan have nothing worth taking. We made some dead and then run. Run. Run. Run..."
Wild shambles slowly over to Hilde, dripping with blood and dragging his spinning glaive in the dirt along the way until it stops. "I feel... pain. The green blade stings. Did we kill the killer?" He looks at Hilde then around at the bodies of the fallen.
Wild hops up and down hooting and hollering nonsense, even more profoundly than usual. It quickly becomes clear that he has lost control of himself completely. He pounds his chest violently with the business end of his cestus while howling in the orcish tongue. Orcish Rants:
"Red blood spills green blades! Silver shines the path of failure toward DOOM! Death smiles at the wet ground!"
As suddenly as the madness erupted, Wild then stands silent. He gazes blankly forward without noticing the flood of crimson pouring from his freshly opened wounds.
Wild continues yelling and begins to laugh maniacally. "Madness! The fools bring green blades to a red fight and they call us mads!?"
He yanks the cord on his weapon, causing the serrated blade to sing a rusty melody. Then launches a reckless spinning attack on the thug who slipped by Ranhild, narrowly avoiding his adjacent allies.
Wild comes barreling around the corner after Vethorm, into combat. He draws his ripsaw glaive with smooth instinct and charges at the nearest thug, yelling as he runs.
Rabus checks on Wild. "You know," he says to the strange gnome. "In your excitement, your wound seems to have opened. You're bleeding."
Wild stares intensely at Rabus for a moment then down at his wound and cackles loudly. He suddenly splashes the entire mug of ale all over his bitten flesh, making a crimson-tinted pool of alcohol on the floor. " Now there's blood on the ground!" Mere seconds later, Wild jumps off the stool and bolts for the door. "VETHORM! WAIT FOR ME! The signs have spoken! We still have revenge to do!"
Wild inhales deeply before delivering his rebuttal to Vethorm in an equally raised voice.
He takes a second to breathe and lowers his tone.
Sharing his signature crooked-toothed smile momentarily for dramatic effect, Wild then plops down onto the seat properly and faces Rabus in a sheepish voice. ”Got any mushroom brew?”
"Not the killer say you? Hmph!" Wilds huffs at Robin and relaxes his offensive stance. It seems the old guard and Vethorm will not be bloodying themselves over harsh conversation this evening. I do not understand the townsfolk here. If these were full blooded orcs or hryngar, we'd all be knee deep in gore for slinging words like that... Perhaps the undrunk man will know more. He slowly retreats to the counter and climbs onto a stool, standing on its seat to match eye height with Rabus. "Hail Drink Keeper! We seek the Inn-Killer for revenging. What killers passed through these grounds this day?" He looks around from side to side. "And where are your blood pits?"
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