Aevelyn looks over the bone garden, and thinks, Gods, what a dump! while approaching cautiously.
"If someone is going to start dinner, I'm gonna join in!"
Mal tears a ribbon of cloth form somewhere, as well as grabs a flask of oil and a tindertwig. Just to get ready if a party needs started
Despite the sturdy stone construction of the home, the roof apears to be made from flamable thatch if that is what you want to do.
A general scan of the area does elude to the majority of the bones being of humaniod, probably elvish, origin. One of the morbid trophies is tied in a crude cross topped with a skull, it leans to one side precariously.
Out of the corner of her eye she notes a brief flickering movement of one of the curtains.
Aevelyn looks across to her companions and waves over to the cottage, while shielding her eyes from the glare. She says loudly, ”Wow, it sure is hot today! It would be nice if we could find some shade!”
Aevelyn looks across to her companions and waves over to the cottage, while shielding her eyes from the glare. She says loudly, ”Wow, it sure is hot today! It would be nice if we could find some shade!”
"you weak willed woman go sit under a tree"
Aevelyn looks across to her companions and waves over to the cottage, while shielding her eyes from the glare. She says loudly, ”Wow, it sure is hot today! It would be nice if we could find some shade!”
"you weak willed woman go sit under a tree"
1d20+3
Pipp has a rare moment of coherence and grasps Aevelyn's message. He sneaks around the house to get a closer look.
Aevelyn looks across to her companions and waves over to the cottage, while shielding her eyes from the glare. She says loudly, ”Wow, it sure is hot today! It would be nice if we could find some shade!”
Pipp has a rare moment of coherence and grasps Aevelyn's message. He sneaks around the house to get a closer look.
The happy go lucky bard creeps unseen around the house towards the window, not a sound is heard as he steathily positions himself to get a better look.
Pip
Pipp wanders back to his allies.
"Well, these inhabitants seem like nothing to fear. The poor little guy is trembling in there."
Aevelyn glances at the handsome bard, and responds to him, "If I recall correctly, we were looking for the Three little Pigs. So where are his brothers, then?"
"Righty ho."
Pipp knocks on the door.
"Hello in there!"
Speaking lowly to those nearest him, especially Maulfeuer, "Before we go setting the house on fire and destroying clues and treasure, let's see if we flush the little fellow out into the open, since he's already spooked. If he doesn't run, then maybe he's not alone after all."
"O thrice great Lord, send us a slavering hound with a fierce bark!"
As the cleric begins his casting the door swings open, and a filthy terrified halfling/pig hybrid stares at Pip with bloodshot eyes, his whole body trembles in abject terror as he shrieks, "Git n'here afore sheen cohm backs!!, with that he dives back in the house and, leaving the door open dives under a table in the filthy home.
Thinking quickly and trusting to the luck of his god, Hieron finishes his summoning, but instead places the dog on the porch where it can sound a warning if anyone approaches the house. When he finishes casting, he moves quickly towards the door while trying to take in any details that would help him assess this surprising turn of events.
Thinking quickly and trusting to the luck of his god, Hieron finishes his summoning, but instead places the dog on the porch where it can sound a warning if anyone approaches the house. When he finishes casting, he moves quickly towards the door while trying to take in any details that would help him assess this surprising turn of events.
1d20+2
Seeing the corpses, when Hieron reaches the halfling, he says,"Which of the piggies are you? What happened to your brothers? Why are you still alive?"
Piggiez? PIGGIEZ? Where dey be aucht? Jyg'g getz whet tougher an tough!
*snickt* *snickt*
Aevelyn follows slowly behind the insane orcling, keeping a close eye on the strange piglet. "Yes, do be truthful as well, we would not want anythingbad to happen to you."
"I told you they were friendly. They just need our help!"
"Yeah...real friendly, Pipp: Just ask B.B. C'mon, piggie, stop stalling and start talking, or we'll hand you over to the socio-path and the pyromaniac and then we can take you home the easy way -- as bacon."
Piggiez? PIGGIEZ? Where dey be aucht? Jyg'g getz whet tougher an tough!
*snickt* *snickt*
Jyg'g we're only looking at one piggy. We're supposed to find three so hang on until we get some answers.
Perception -->
Anyone else wondering who "sheen" might be?
"Az Bacon!? Bacon'z deed ya frakkin jerkwad, I'uz Hamhock! Ans yoo guyz is in deep doo-doo! The frightened pig tells you from under the flimsy table he has taken refuge under.
"And hooze iz Sheen? HOOZE IZ SHEEN!? Snowz-freakinz-White iz hooz SHEEN iz!, sheen comed inz here and sez to uz to bugger out. Sez thit Thiz land herz now, herz and her 7000 dwarvezez. Sheen gived me a day ta get cleared out, but how kin I leevez me poor brudderz here? And now youz iz in deep doo-doo, cause time iz up!"
From out side you hear the wind begin to pick up, carrying with it an arctic wind.... and in the distance you detect the faint sound of dwarven drums beating... getting louder as the source moves closer with each passing second.
So, um, who's the "bad guy"? And -- pig -- where are your brothers?
So, um, who's the "bad guy"? And -- pig -- where are your brothers?
With a shaky hand he points behind you, to either side of the door where two mangled and very dead pig/halfling hybrids lie.
Jyg'g sez too much talkin' an not enuff bacon in belly! GRRROOWWLL
*snickt* *snickt*
Aevelyn shudders as she feels the arctic chill enter the tiny hut. "Look, you feral beastling, I don't think we have time for a good old fashioned barbeque. In case you hadn't noticed, this party is about to be crashed."
She heads over to the cringing piglet, and continues, "Let's grab this one and go. I am sure the Lord President Moorluck will be satisfied with this one."
... "Let's grab this one and go. I am sure the Lord President Moorluck will be satisfied with this one."
Hesitant agreement -- We came here to collect the pigs. Let's collect them and go.
Jyg'g gotz a bag o holden for piggie. In mah belly!
*snickt* *snickt*
Aevelyn shudders as she feels the arctic chill enter the tiny hut. "Look, you feral beastling, I don't think we have time for a good old fashioned barbeque. In case you hadn't noticed, this party is about to be crashed."
She heads over to the cringing piglet, and continues, "Let's grab this one and go. I am sure the Lord President Moorluck will be satisfied with this one."
The "pig" eyes you for a moment, then his mind made up he says, "Youz getz me brudders an me outa herez and I'z'll go where da f~+@ evahz you wantz me ta'!"
From outside you here the wind pick up, sending a chilling blast across the home.
The "pig" eyes you for a moment, then his mind made up he says, "Youz getz me brudders an me outa herez and I'z'll go where da f&!% evahz you wantz me ta'!"
From outside you here the wind pick up, sending a chilling blast across the home.
"Sure thing, hon...and if you are really good, I will keep that ugly orcling from kebobing you."
"Well we better get out of here. I've heard of that Snow White, and she's a b+@~*."
"My mind says, "Run now!" But something else hears the name, and has...other ideas."
From outside you hear the sound of the drums beat louder and louder as the source comes closer and closer, at this rate it will only be a few more minutes before it has arrived at the house you now occupy.
Aevelyn shoots Hieron a disgusted glance, (also tinged with a little jealousy) "I am sure she would love to have you for dinner! Now, if we are done here, then I advise us to amm-scray!"
"Did that thing say 7000 dwarves? I can't handle that kind of army. Here give me one of those corpses and lets get moving!!"
"Did that thing say 7000 dwarves? I can't handle that kind of army. Here give me one of those corpses and lets get moving!!"
Agreed. Let's go folks.
Although I have my doubts as to whether or not the pig can count past 7 let alone 7,000...
"Very well, then, let us make a run for it. Once we get well away, mayhap I can sneak back and catch sight of this Snow White and her army of dwarven men."
Hieron commands the hound to remain behind and bark when the dwarves come into view, to give them some idea of how far behind us they are. He hoists a pig up on his shoulders and vamooses.
"Very well, then, let us make a run for it. Once we get well away, mayhap I can sneak back and catch sight of this Snow White and her army of dwarven men."
Hieron commands the hound to remain behind and bark when the dwarves come into view, to give them some idea of how far behind us they are. He hoists a pig up on his shoulders and vamooses.
** spoiler omitted **
As he makes flight with the pig carcass, Hieron calls, "May our feet by as quick as thought, my friends! Away!"
The orcling swings madly at the pig carcass hanging over Hieron's shoulders, but like the sky, it remains way out of his reach.
Bacon! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACON! Jyg'g HUNGRAY!
*snickt* *snickt*
As you flee through the woods it isn't long before you hear the sound of barking cutting through the air, it last for only a moment before the sound is cut off in a sharp yelp, then is forever silenced.