Seeing his compatriots adroitly dealing with the abominations, Montebuth does not advance. He readies his crossbow to fire at any skeletons that approach him.
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"Montebuth calls upon the power of infinite knowledge, behold your fates creatures of darkness!" Turn Undead:
"He is okay...possibly..." Fort save: 1d20+4 = 15.
On Montebuth's turn: Casts light of lunia (sheds light as a torch) and moves to cover.
"What are they talking about..."
"Does he think he can handle a proper lock?"
Montebuth attempts to determine if the creature is indeed undead. If he believes so, he will attempt to turn the creature with holy power.
"All things are on a scale. He merely stated those things at both ends. Perhaps she has some preconceptions of her own abilities?" Montebuth turns away as he finishes speaking, but you are pretty sure you saw him smirk a little before returning his gaze to the observatory walls.
"They should approach this from another perspective." Montebuth casts detect secret doors and begins moving around the building looking with his magically enhanced vision. "Given enough chance even the lowliest of goblins can strike a dragon."
While the group bickers amongst themselves, Montebuth steps to the side to examine this mysterious face on the door. He searches his memory, attempting to find anything he might have come across in his studies or discussions. Knowledge (history) = 22
If he recalls something, he announces it quietly to the group.
"As she requires. It would not become him to allow them to perish on his watch." With that he follows the rest of the group in, drawing his morningstar and equipping his light shield.
"He is a defender of order, a visionary, a teller and a seer. He is the guided hand of the intricate foresight and the promisary of destiny. He also has excellent fashion sense. Grey is in this year." Montebuth makes no indication that he has made a joke, and peers at the entry into the observatory.
IC: We should plan our attack.
"They are remarkably light-hearted about disturbing matters. He is not certain if this is a good sign of defiance in the face of evil, or signs of deep trauma."
"He is afraid it is his turn to be confused." Montebuth smiles sheepishly.
Montebuth smiles wrily. "His friend is correct, Montebuth is a dreamer and a watcher. It shall be to his ironic amusement that we assault an observatory."
Montebuth seems to quickly adapt to the goings on. "Very well, he will be reported to the authorities if necessary. Montebuth will be happy to testify if required. Let this be warning to they that listen," he raises his voice, "destiny cannot be escaped, only delayed."
"Let us see if we can uncover the actions of her compatriot. His curiosity is piqued, to say the least, at the adventures of this group."
"Shall he join them, then?" Montebuth brushes the dirt and grass from his robes and makes ready to leave as if expecting the answer.
"Does she mean animate dead, create undead, or raise dead? These spells all achieve very different things. But in general, dispatching a foe is no different in life, death, or undeath. Certain types of undead might require her to use special methods to make their demise...permanent."
"She is not obliged to mimic his style of speech. Each person is their own self. But he is to serve all people." Montebuth attempts a Cleric Lore check to see if he knows any more on the subject: 1d20+6=22.
"She must know that Auran is the language of the air, those that dwell on the Elemental Plane of Air and serve Yan-C-Bin."
"Montebuth hopes he means arcane spellcasters. Very few of the servants of divine will are off in such a way."
"This is entirely inappropriate. The places of the dead are sacred, no matter the God. Though it is not his place to be guardian of the dead and their lands, his holy nature compels him to aid you in this matter." Montebuth clasps his holy symbol in one hand, bowing his head with his eyes closed. He holds the bow, as if waiting for a response.
"Montebuth", he emphasizes, "is ever happy to see him as well." The cleric smiles thinly, but with warmth. "Sage, why are they here? He has had a worrying lately, as has Montebuth, but what is the nature of this business? How can Savras aid?"
"But in striving and doing she is the future and all that can be. You are a dancer, have always been." The cleric smiles warmly, emphasizing the kind nature of his obfuscating words.
The human sitting cross-legged next to the Sage of Daggerford rises adroitly. He is unassuming, except for a complete lack of body hair. He wears dark gray robes with white trimming, a motif of orbs and lines depicting the Weave. From his neck hangs a silver orb with a crystal in the center. "If Sage permits?" he excuses himself for speaking, "Greetings, Montebuth is his name. Montebuth sees that Greylan is still as much himself as ever. His female companion, he is not familiar with." |