"How do I watch for a howl? More of a hear thing, isn't it?" Roger asks in a moment of confusion at what exactly they're looking at. "Oy! Everyone else get out of here, this is a job for us!" Roger then gathers himself and yells at everyone to get out of here while rushing forward and drawing a weapon.
With spellcasting out of the way, now all Roger's breath can be focused on the proper business of oxygen to one's thighs, instead of that silly brain frivolity.
"Aye, you of all should know the gods are list'nin, and not always one as kind as yours." Roger agrees with Emma. Roger whistles an odd tune and gives himself a slap- and he seems to be faster now?
Roger pauses for a moment, pondering, giving his beard a solid singular stroke. "Damn, twere a finely crafted line. Have a drink on me." He tosses the Peg-Leg caller a silver, tips his hat, and follows Hannelia in.
The next day Roger is taking what the gentry might consider a morning constitutional as he racks his brain. "Secrets I have- but not any good ones. It'd be a right shame to bring up a time I farted and hoped no one noticed." Definitely words such gentry wouldn't admit to in public company. But a racked brain is one quick to latch onto the first ready and waiting distraction, and his attention is drawn to a kerfluffle outside Gunty's.
"It's not all bad you know- get some wisdom with it aye~" Roger mutters into his drink, but has enough wisdom not to interrupt the mood and enjoys it with a wry smile instead.
"It's weak to good? Aye, Emma, you've got this! Give it a good 'ole uh.. good-en-ing?" Roger yells encouragement before focusing on his own battle, intending to lock blades and then pummel Ridinion with the flat and hilt.
"Adventurers indeed. Ever you have trouble, we're close to call in Saringallow." Roger nods his agreement. As the discussion continues, he sort of stares at a couch, then at his own dirty clothes, then raises a hand as though to attempt to dust himself off, thinks better of it, and sort of stands there with an awkward smile.
"Well, we were joking about there being a third dragon."
"Well, I've been better, but I've been worse- Wouldn't mind a tap or two." Roger is currently picking bits of teeth out of himself, though he's standing close enough to the drake that if Hawkren takes a few liberties with the pose it could look heroic enough. "An', don't look a gift dragon in the mouth, Nerissia. That's where the fire and the teeth are."
Still not 100% sure what he's supposed to do, Roger isn't sure whether to wait where he is in ambush, or move forward to attack the drake. Looking across to Emma, well, he doesn't see her. Because she's invisible. Ultimately, he sticks where he is.
"Right, so, thoughts for plans. One strategy, is we run in, screamin' yellin' and hollerin', to get in a fight quick as we can." Roger offers. "Cause I figure if we're using all this spellcraft to make the fight easier, the best way to win is make sure we get into a fight right after we use the potions to make sure the spell doesn't wear off."
"Aye," Roger raises a hand, before looking amongst the group. "Does anyone know spells what make you not catch on fire, and if not, let's source some before we go." Which was sorta half a question and half a conditional statement, not that the pirate particularly knew the particulars of that.
"I'm not quite followin' all the roundabout speech. Are you saying your home was invaded by dragon dolls?" Roger asks.
"Skeletons! Rattle'em boys!" Roger takes a defensive stance in the opening of the passage, and readies himself against attack, figuring it's best to let the enemy come to them. There might be more of them in there!
Lit by a bright parrot in his hat and protected by a gnome's potion, Roger leads the way with weapon in hand and searches for treasure, buried or otherwise.
"Ye've scorched yer last feathers!" Roger leaps up from his spot at the sight of archers unleashing a volley on his friends, drawing his blade and leaping into battle.
"Eh?" Roger looks up from his tracking a bit distracted. "Oh, sure thing sure thing Majara. Though- I reckon from my last attempt trying to climb up a goblin trapped path before, if I get stuck up there alone, ya'll run through the traps and take a beating to save me."
"Well, this was either a killer party or a ... killer war party?" Roger takes a look to investigate for scraps of food that might help indicate the former.
"An' I thought sea-speak sometimes confused the landlubbers." Roger whispers sidelong to the others.
"Ye look a little lost- what say you we make it part of a down payment? You available to help us with the venture we're on? A canny beast and a keen archer's never unwelcome." Roger notices Vael's hesitance.
"I'll be honest, I was here the whole time and I don't really get the talking painting either."
"Well, Hworng isn't even that bad. Say it right- HWOORNG, and it's like an angry swan, which sure, isn't nice, but it's got some spice! If you've ever been chased by a swan, you know they've got fire in those beady little eyes. Dremlut just doesn't have anything."
"Certainly didn't know we had so many folk knowing bout birds about. I always figured parrots among the smarter birds, what with the talking and all." He gave his own parrot a bop on the nose. "Though I suppose mine's got a bit of wool brain."
"Haha! Fine work there Emma, fine work indeed." Roger gives Emma a clap on the back for expert dispatching of devilish beasties, and not the least of which for not dying. "Roger's the name, pleased to meet ya, Nerissia, and you too Alocer." Roger squats down to give the fox a little wave.
No proper adventurer should be too proud to meet in a tavern. :)
"Let's beat him into the tarpits he probably comes from!" Roger cheers onward the group, hoping they can quickly fell the beast. He tries not to be too disheartened by Emma. Surely Sirio could patch her up like he's done before. If he kept the beast on him for a mo- was that a fox that just ran in and attacked the devil? Well, the arrow following the fox is true, good on Hannalia for- hang on a minute, Hannelia wasn't supposed to be here. He desperately wanted to look behind him to see what was going on, but well, now wasn't the time.
"I dunno, ye seem like a canny type, maybe there'd be some fancy reason o'king an lord's an devils." Roger shrugs, maybe it hadn't been a joke and Roger was curious. "And good job Hawkren, Emma, that was quick. No worries, Majara, they've got it! But then turning to the faint buzz and it's words, Roger tilts his head and lightly smushes against his parrot. "It's telling us to do what we're already doin, and not ta die. Well, Voice, if ye ever want a job in the Queen's Navy, ye'd make a fine Captain!" "Shall we take a quick lookabout then check the sutherly rooms?"
"Now miss ghosty lady, I can assure you, none of us are named Vegoran Thrune!" Roger answers her, then pauses, then looks back at Sirio. "Unless ye've been holding out on us like Connie was."
As the others ready to enter, Roger pats around himself to see if he's got any rations on himself what might have a bone. If there are doggies wanting bones inside, maybe they'd be happy to take one freely offered, rather than one what had to be torn out of a leg.
The sorcerer regards the pirate, "Are you speaking to 'the giggler'?" He looks impressed, "Very egalitarian of you." "When you've met a wizard's parrot what became a wizard itself, ye don't sweat the details." Roger nods. "Well, these feathers ain't a parrot's though." Roger comments on the other feathers.
"Aye- we just going to bust it down? Not the most genteel way of starting parle-" Roger hesitated for a moment too long about their method of entry to help, before the others busted down the door with team effort.
"Well the words got away from me there, I suppose. Though, if he did flip me off with his flippers too, I wouldn't have been able to tell it from him just doing whatever he did to submerge again. Not an expert of sub-nautical navigation, I am not." Roger thinks back.
"Mermaids? Aye, well, to believe company around cups, apparently t'were no end to the fair maidens of the sea. Me myself, only spied a merman-merkid? Not sure? Slight little lad surfaced and flipped me off he did. From the look of him and how he was looking below as much as me, I figure he was doin' it on a dare for some other kids that didn't dare surface."
Clearly I should take the Overwhelming Beauty trait to represent Roger's undeniable charisma. :P
"Aye, thank ye Hannah!" Roger gives a nod and smile as he's assisted with cleanup. Roger strokes his beard for a moment. "Top five, well, one I can't give all the details, for speaking ill of the dead, but safe to say t'were the worst moonshine the seas have ever seen. Then there was that ship what it seemed like they used the bilge as the poop deck. And any river in Mwangi. Just straight up, every river in Mwangi. Rivers shouldn't be a more solid shade'a brown than a Chelaxian sewer. Which was another a the top ten contenders." That wasn't exactly five, but perhaps math wasn't a Pirate's strong suit, or three separate Mwangi rivers took three of the spots. Roger offers in response to Majara's comment on economy. "Ah, who knows, maybe the Mayor's got a some buried treasure or something! He was willing to bribe us to stop investigating wasn't he? Doesn't take a lot of coin by our standards these days to make up for a bad harvest or too."
"Lay into the blackguard!" Roger urges on the group.
Then he'll step back to give Emma room to retreat if needed.
Roger himself was considering taking the time to recoup, but a quick glance around shows plenty of others in dire situations.. At Hannelia's urging, he steels himself for one more throw down. "Alright... Ye can do it, once more." He mutters to himself, resting best he can with his battered body against the wall before he winces and pulls himself together to charge into the fray. "RAAAA-oh scuse me Hannah, just gotta-AAAAAA!" His charge takes a quick stop to shimmy by Hannelia before resuming to attack the spider.
Chezarina plays it cool as Moon flies overhead. No matter how much it may unnerve her, it is simply not her way to show such things. Though, perhaps her bowstring was checked and rechecked far more times than was strictly necessary. Chezarina is by no means able to maintain her detached demeanor when a flaming giant bird appears in the middle of a medical treatment, falling back flat on her back in surprise. She scrambles to recompose and dust herself off. Well, hopefully no one was looking at her while that- whatever that was- happened.
"Sssh, can't you hear Zephyr is talking?" She pretends like she was following the conversation.
No, let's rush a head blindly, each at our max speed, and splitting at each branching pathway. I'm sure those kobolds were our last foes, and things are safe from here on out.
"Aarrrg-" Roger's taken aback and nearly felled by the blows, but the hearty old pirate manages to keep his feet with the aid of his polearm. "I won't go down that easily ye woobly wavy wacky faceless freak!" He lets anger and adrenaline dull the pain for now as he keeps fighting.
"My my, I've never heard someone tell an Ifrit they didn't love themselves enough." Chezarina is not quickly taken in by sermons. In her mind it was Edmund, not Sky that made the difference.
"YAAAARGH!" The time for fancy words is over, as Roger recklessly charges to slash at the Faceless Stalker.
While the others make their way through single file, Chezarina pauses, and seeing the foe is upon them just in the nick of time, pulls forth four arrows with a single hand, and lets them fly one after another so quickly they could have all been fired in a single leap, if she had more room for acrobatics. "To arms, those that have them, she's upon us!"
When Albert had first made himself known, Chezarina had been quick to set hands upon her bow and quiver, not raising them, but making sure they were at hand, as she kicked herself up to a standing position a moment later. Standing, at first glance she could pass for a wilderness hunter, modest brown traveling clothes covered in the dust and earth of honest journeys. But her movement broke the illusion and showed them to be finery on the inside, golden and velvet highlights to accentuate her bronze skin and give some contrast to her relatively modest earthen toned hair for an Ifrit. Though she was not large, she carried herself with the bravado well known of her kin, a foot posed dramatically on a nearby rock to add a few inches of stature and dynamicism to her small frame. "He looks tough enough to have survived the nonsense back at Light." Chezarina cricked her neck glancing around for other threats, but finding none, Zephyr not seeming as such to her biased eyes, she didn't raise arms yet. "Indeed, Albert, we were just throwing a little party for two by the impassable wall, more and merrier with four around the fire." She waved for Zephyr to come down.
Chaotic Shiny is a long and storied alignment.
Chezarina over the past few days had started to be lax in her firekeeping, if only for want of something to do. As such a trail of smoke curled into the sky from her camp, occasionally wisping past the barrier and being dispersed. Lying on her back on her bedroll, weapons to the side, Chezarina chucked pebbles past the barrier one by one to watch them pop. If Albert kept his path, he would find the small camp near the barrier that Chezarina had set up in the downwind of a knoll
"That there pig's not quite dead yet, give it some cold iron!"
"Aye, why wouldn't- I- ha..." Roger turns to Connie only to eventually see the non-moving lips and yet his still playing voice in his head. "Must be something funny in the Striges or me nerves, now I'm hearing things!" Now Roger didn't realize that everyone else could hear Connie too, and thought he was the mad one! |
