Fun Gal Farmer Escalation
Log Info
- Title: Fun Gal Farmer Escalation
- Emitter: Jinks
- Characters: Aryia, Karasu, Lysos, Paenitia, Smuldur
- Place: Alexandria Trade District
- Time: Monday, October 11, 2021, 1:11 PM
- Summary: Adventurers have volunteered to keep the streets quiet in the lower trades district. Rumours of plague keep the residents inside. They patrol or linger, as suits their nature. Some sounds are heard from an upper story and Aryia investigates. She catches a visitor sneaking out of a room, and then the mother catches wind of the commotion and comes outside. Whatever the Mul'niessa saw in the backpack convinced her to help the boy sneak away. Silence returns, and then the group hears a strange dragging noise on the next street over. They investigate, a zombie-like Oruch is dragging what seems to be a bomb or a rocket sled. Closer investigation shows, he is on the verge of death, but not actually undead. Paenitia proposes healing him, when a gnome runs up, says the oruch is done for, and that he should be followed to the source. She pulls out a grenade to convince everyone of the soundness of her plan and jumps on the bomb. Lysos washes her off with a Hydraulic Torrent, Aryia kicks the grenade out of her hand, and Paenitia ends up applying such a swift acting salve that the oruch falls asleep almost immediately. In the aftermath they decide, it would have been nice to have a guide, but saving the man is better and they take him back to the temple of Althea.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a resolved look about her. Karasu 5'9" 125 Lb Human Male Clearly a man of Xian decent with dark hair and eyes. Lysos 5'6" 105 Lb Human/Tsuran Female Dark eyed tsuran girl. Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Smuldur 3'4" 45 Lb Goblin Male A gently used (cut, scraped, burnt, exploded) gobber. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Jinks 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's an unsettling night. The day's gusting winds unexpectedly died sometime in the late afternoon, leaving an unexpected, wispy fog to creep up from the river and slide lazily over the dirty cobblestone streets of the western (or lower) trades district. The clouds above have settled in to smother any light from the moon and stars but the quarter's gas lamps continue to hiss and sputter their nervous flames.
Even for the later hour it's uncharacteristically quiet here; recent rumors of plague have taken root with the workers and residents on this side of the river. Most have listened to the wisdom of the constabulary and churches and keep indoors. Those that have to be out hurry to their destinations, their heads down and handkerchiefs or scarves clamped over their noses and mouths.
It was a trade caravan that arrived this past Kesenday through the western gates. Members started to fall sick on Ceriday and worsened on Eliday. Most have been found and isolated and their cargo quarantined but two are still missing. Folks are scared.
It's the perfect chance for the Adventurer's Guild to push back on the negative press swimming through the city these days! Contracted members of the guild and volunteers-- generally heartier by nature than your average commoner-- have taken to the streets to help bolster the watch. Your writ is to keep the streets safe; help the common folk as needed and make sure the vile and dastardly don't take advantage of the situation.
Karasu stands on a street corner, nominally keeping an eye out for any untoward actions, but also sticking to the shadows so that he himself is less likely to be seen. Tonight his raven is perched on his shoulder, keeping his own keen eyes on the roads. On nights like this Karasu doesn't trust the bird too far from his side. Particularly given the mood that the raven is in. Gently Wuya rubs his head against Karasu's neck. A mild and silent apology that Karasu responds to by petting the bird gently before returning to his post.
Let thy maginificence be a beacon of hope and sanctuary to others!
Where there is Torchie, there is fire.
Where there is fire, there is light against the cold and dark!
Where there is Torchie and/or fire, there is also nearly always a Smuldur.
None shall be accosted by sneaky protruding cobblestones nor animated rainpuddles while he is on the watch! His beacon is held high to aid all in the vicinity. It may also threaten nosehair, beards, eyebrows, or other flammables at that elevation, depending on the stature of the aided.
Aryia meanders the streets with others in line of sight, a grey cloak seated over her shoulders with a black half-face mask covering the lower half of her scarred visage. She was no stranger to sickness, and the desperation it caused.
Her shimmery eyes eerily shine in the night. A leather gloved hand raises to those she knows as she passes by them.
Paenitia eagerly throws herself into patrol. This is what she is sworn to do, protect the common folk. She fears no man but has a healthy respect for disease. Underneath her mask is another mask, cloth wrapped around over her mouth. Ramirez has one too, although his is fancier. The peacock-andalusian sports a large 'plague doctor' mask over his beak, in white with red rivets. His eyes peer out of the goggles. Pecking will be impossible, but perhaps the costume will be appreciated.
The Ivory Steed parade marches down the street with high and fancy steps. His little Red Knight rides tall in her saddle, lance upright and a lantern hanging off the tip illuminating her immediate area.
They walk to one end of the main street, do an elaborate pirouette, then parade back to the other end.
She's 'with' the group in the sense that they can see her, and her hippogryph can return quickly.
Lysos peers down an allyeway, holding up her light... a stone inside of a brass settling attacked to a simple leather cord which has been enchanted to glow.. then draws back, letting that fall to her side while she adjusts the scarf wrapped around the lower portion of her face irritably. With a muffled voice she reports, "Looks okay over here."
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d5: (1): 1 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+5: (12)+5: 17 (Stealth Check) GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (15)+21: 36 GAME: Karasu rolls perception: (17)+6: 23 GAME: Smuldur rolls perception: (5)+10: 15 GAME: Lysos rolls perception: (6)+9: 15 GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (1)+4: 5 (EPIC FAIL)
Paenitia is preoccupied with Ramirez's prance-gait. She sees nothing.
Karasu shifts his shoulder and Wuya takes flight. Angling upwards above Aryia to where there might be... yes there is, someone sneaking out the window of the textiles's shop. The bird swoops in, flapping its wings to keep outside the reach of the individual crawling out a window on the second story. The raven makes loud cawing noises like its nest has been disturbed, drawing attention to the person. Wuya keeps just out of reach, but Karasu casually starts making his way toward Aryia, pointing upwards above her head in case the claxioning raven were not enough to inform her that there's something going on.
The mute woman tilts her head up just as the bird takes flight. Aryia scowls at them. She lets out a sharp whistle for the rest of the group from behind her mask and tries to climb up after the burglar.
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+2: (16)+2: 18
"No. Shush. Shoo. Off. Back. Shhhhh." The figure looks up from trying to find a foothold to lean and swat at the bird, putting a finger to his lips and attempting to hush it when that fails. He glances back inside the window and fidgets before making a decision. He surges out and stands on the half-exposed frame of an outer truss, gripping the edge of the roof with one hand and the windowframe with another.
When Aryia whistles he looks down and his eyes widen. He's young, pale, and increasingly nervous. "Please don't do that." He stage whispers at her. He's not even wearing a mask. What a villain.
Lysos's attention is drawn to Wuya's alert followed by Aryia's whistle. She thrusts her glowing pendant into her pocket so she can hike her skirt up a little as she hustles over towards Karasu and Aryia, trying to pinpoint where Wuya's calls are coming from in the uneven lighting of the gas lamps. "What's going?" she asks, looking then towards them.
The Red Knight remains focused on her Ivory Steed. "Ramirez, higher. Yes. Hold, yes. That's good!"
'Ruaaah!' He alerts her, Wuya is cawing.
"Yes Ramirez, you are the brave man!"
'Ruaaah!' No. There is a bird.
"Yes, you are the best. Do not fear. All who look upon you see your magnificence." Paenitia encourages and confirms him.
'Ruaaaah!' Something bad is occurring. Over there. yes.
"Ramirez, step again!" The Dark Lucht orders.
Smuldur stares at Torchie. So illuminating. It even leaves after-spots when he looks back to the darkness; magnificence is seared into his eyeballs! Then there's squawking, and whistling.
"Shhhshhhshh!" he looks over to shush them. "No distractions! We're watching for bad things!"
The raven leaves off annoying the man sneaking out the window and flies down to hover near Karasu while the xian man turns his eyes skyward. He is not inclined to climb up the side of the building himself, but he motions for Wyua to give him a eye in the sky. So the bird swings aloft again. "Either a thief, or someone sneaking out for a late-night rendezvous." This last offered to the question of what's going on.
<OOC> Aryia uses Dancing Lights. GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (5)+12: 17 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+2: (4)+2: 6
Aryia eventually manages to get herself at level with the man, her hanging off the side of the building with practiced ease. She focuses for a moment, a grey orb manifesting in her palm as a shimmery light comes to life, bathing the man's face in a soft glow. She releases it, letting it float beside her before pointing at the burglar and pointing down to the ground to where everyone was gathered.
She even adds in for those who understand her, "Get down or I'll kick your ass along the way." <Handspeech>
The building is jettied, so the upper floor sticks out over the lower. Aryia and the urban climbing enthusiast hang over the street. The framing members of the outside walls are exposed and make for simple enough hand- and footholds.
The young man (little more than a boy, really) looks ready to soil himself when Aryia climbs up next to him. "Don't curse me!" He pleads, jumping up in an attempt to grab the edge of the roof and hoist himself up. He swings precariously for a moment. Then one hand slips. "Oh." He realizes, before the other slips, too, and he's falling.
Aryia's free hand shoots out as the burglar fumbles their dismount, her brows knitting in strain. She takes a breath in, doubling down on her grip on his belt before releasing her grasp on the wall and falling to the ground with a quiet 'ka-klack' of her boots.
She drops him onto the ground, reaches down, and yanks the pouch off his back belt and rifles through it.
There's candle light on the first floor now, small and distant behind the waxed glass. Likely conjured by the continued commotion outside.
"Hey, hey.." Lysos says, trying to put some calm in her voice as she holds her hands out in front of her, patting them downwards in the air. "Careful. We're supposed to remind these folks we're the good guys, remember? Maybe we should ask him why he was up there."
Paenitia and Ramirez prance up beside Aryia's midnight urban runner and the mul'niessa herself. The Dark Lucht considers breaking stride and decides against it. Aryia can handle a teenager, and the populace expect regular patrols.
Her lantern sways as Ramirez moves, the hippogryph himself is rather muffled, it's his mistress who is making noise. More specifically, her armour. Her crushed breastplate and kilt, while expertly beat back into shape, were ruined by the demon she encountered previously. Repairs are impossible, she must upgrade now.
The candle's glow is right behind the shop's door before the portal is flung open. A heavy Cerenzan woman in a night gown of black and bronze thrusts her light out into the street as a scouting party for her annoyed scowl. Her hair is pinned up and leaning to one side and she wields a bolt of patterned cloth as a bludgeon.
"What's all this!? What are you doing outside my sh-- YOU!" Now she's spotted the pale-skinned youth. Who's scampered on hands and knees to try and press flat against the storefront and go unobserved. His face is turned so his cheek touches the wall and his eyes are squinted shut. Don't move. She can't see you if you don't move. "ROGELIO!" Bellows the woman, lifting her chin but not looking away from the youth sitting in the street.
...
...
... "I'm asleep, mama?" comes the eventual, timid response from the open window upstairs.
"It is the time of the night and Alls Well!" Paenitia calls out loudly, everyone is awake now anyhow. "There is only the Rogelio and his mother fight." They are well informed now too. "That is All!"
Karasu's lips thin and he looks at Ariya. It seems much is explained by the exchange. He slips somewhat away from the confrontation. It's not /his/ duty to get between a mother, her son, and her son's midnight suitor. Leave that task to another. Wuya flaps down to his shoulder, and he looks around to make sure nothing else has happened while they were elsewise distracted.
Smuldur looks away from Torchie's WONDROUS GLOW once more. Blinks. "Fight?!" Eyes dart as he scampers towards Paenitia, then dart around more. "Where?!"
Aryia pulls out the scarf she found and tosses it to the boy, her making a motion of wrapping her face to him. She doesn't mess with the other things she spies, putting two and two together and just handing him his bag back. Wild youngin's.
Lysos was right, they had to be nice. Doesn't mean she won't be glaring at him as her orb lazily floats down to be over her shoulder.
The elf looks over her shoulder and shakes her head heavily. "No." <Handspeech>
Lysos grins broadly, though it's hard to tell beneath her scarf wrapping, using a simliar gesture of peace upon the home's matron. "It's okay!" she promises the woman. "Just some birds not getting along," she adds before giving Aryia a thumbs up, then looking the gobber's way. "Nope! No fights, little guy."
"Lysos is right, it not the fight, it is the heated exchange." Paenitia agrees, glancing at Smuldur's torch, "it does not need the more heat."
Distracted, the young man flinches when Aryia tosses the scarf his way. But he snatches it up and wraps his face as instructed, then accepts the bag and clutches it close, preciously. With one last look at the Rogelio's mother he skitters to his feet and stumble-runs past the mul and down the street.
Mama scowls after the interloper loping away and shakes her head. She grunts what might be thanks and then steps back inside, kicking the door shut with her heel. There's more shouting from inside but it's muffled and unintelligible. The room gets steadily darker as mama retreats back through the shop.
A dark, narrow arm reaches out from the window upstairs and pulls the shutter closed.
GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (7)+21: 28 GAME: Karasu rolls perception: (19)+6: 25 GAME: Smuldur rolls perception: (12)+10: 22 GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (17)+4: 21 GAME: Lysos rolls perception: (4)+9: 13
As the street turns (relatively) peaceful there's an odd scratching noise from a few streets over. It's constant but interrupted occasionally by a clattering or a smack. Something being drug over uneven cobbles.
Karasu keeps walking, heading over toward the sounds that he can hear somewhat distant to him. He taps his ear as he passes Lysos, indicating to her that he can hear something, and motioning in the direction that he is headed. Wuya remains on his shoulder for now, keeing his own eyes keenly peeled for any further information that might reveal itself.
Smuldur exhales and blows a half-raspberry as he looks visibly, well, deflated. His less-chewed ear then perks up and swivels towards the sound. Hope yet burns! "Whassat?!" Finding out is better than asking, though, so he then skitters his way towards the scraping. With Torchie illuminating the way, of course.
"Ramirez, halt." Paenitia commands. He does so. She stands in the saddle, a hand cupped to a hidden ear. She turns, listening carefully, "Aha!"
She drops down into the seat, nudges with her heels and squeezes with her knees. "I hear the scratching noise the block over. I go to check this out."
Peacock-Andalusian and Rider find a side street wide enough to traverse without sweeping it clean, and head down it to find the source of the noise. Her lantern continues to rattle around on the end of her upheld lance.
Aryia's small source of light dissipates into the air, light being reclaimed by the shadows of night. She follows after Karasu, hearing something similar.
Lysos is still grinning to herself, but she's not so lost in the resolution of the last 'crisis' that she doesn't notice Karasu's gesture. Her shoulders straighten in a 'getting back to business' manner and she nods to him, keeping quiet as she pads after him.. though her hard soled boots aren't quite as soft a step as others present.
You find the nearest cross street and head down, looking for the source of the noise as it grows slowly (but steadily) louder. The Tribune is shuttered. Goblintown lurks a stone's throw away in the opposite direction. But then, there?
There! A bulbous half-oruch in road leathers. His prodigious gut challenges the seams of his simple tunic and hangs over and down to hide his belt. He has some kind of rope harness tethered to drag something on the ground behind him. His arms hang down at his side and he shuffles, swaying and lazy in his advance. When he passes beneath a lamp you can see his eyelids are drooping, his jaw slack. "Uuuuuuh," he groans, drawing nearer.
GAME: Paenitia rolls heal+3: (10)+11+3: 24 (+3 1/2 cav levels) GAME: Karasu rolls heal: (6)+6: 12 GAME: Aryia rolls heal: (8)+4: 12
Uncertain about this ourch, Karasu slides to an immediate stop, and pulls back. Repulsed and uncertain as to what's going on with this particular individual. He draws backwards, eyes sliding from the ourch to what he was dragging on the ground and back again.
Ramirez brings Paenitia closer, his plague masks flicking left, right as he examines the oruch with one eye, then the other. His left gets an especially long peer.
Mount and Rider do not approach closer than a lance-length. Paenitia lowers her light to the Oruch's head height, "Hola! You look in much need of coffee. You in need of other aid sirrah?"
Aryia blinks as they come upon the half-oruch going about. She tightens her mask and holds up a hand to the rest, signaling a sign for caution.
Lysos, torn between wanting to keep a little bit of distance, reminded of the warnings of some kind of sickness with the oruch's behaviour.. and the directive of being here to offer what aid she and the others can. So she finds herself somewhat in the middle, approaching closer than Karasu, but not quite so close as Paenitia, Aryia's warning hand keeping her from going any further. "We might be able to help?" she says, backing up Paenitia's query.
"Undeaded!" Smuldur immediately determines, and announces, with a hiss. He holds Torchie up straighter and puts his other forearm across the torch to brace. "They don't like fire!" Which is the worst thing about undeaded. How can they not like fire?!
Those close enough will also notice the rope crossed and tied over his chest has a lead tied to a sled, the source of the scraping noise. There's a contraption of sorts; two pony kegs strapped together (and to the sled) with a handful of pipes running between them. One sports a spigot. There's also a trio of lever-handles. Behind the contraption is enough space on the sled for a person to sit.
"Hold! Ramirez, back." Paenitia says suddenly, causing her hippogryph to walk backwards. She lowers her lance further, almost to the point where the lantern-cap would slip off and drop her light.
"Look, the rash on neck arm that look the bruise. That is not, see the white spots in between. That is the fungus. This the Purple Pox disease, this is how the sapient fungus reproduce."
Her hippogryph 'clok's' back another step. "It can be cure, but he in the late stage and near to death. The infected have the drive to go home to the parent colony. This like the magic that hold Merek, the mind control, but she is not as strong."
"The anti-mushroom salve, I need to check the healer box." The Red Knight says, "the thing he drag, that may be of import."
Karasu withdraws even further upon hearing that the man is infected with a deadly fungus. For though he serves Vardama, he has no wish to visit Her anytime soon. "If he is driven to return the the source of his disease, it might be wise to drive it out that way." He offers his advice from a - healthy - distance. "But I suggest we remain at a distance lest he infest us with his sickness as well."
Aryia glares at Smuldur, her fanning at them as if that'd smother the inferno of a gobbo. "No, he's got some kind of pox. I think," she gestures at him, uncaring if they understood.
She blinks at Paenitia. Oh. That's a lot worse than she thought. She tightens down her gloves further. As much as she didn't like the man, she gave a nod. It was a solid idea. <Handspeech>
Lysos finds herself almost agreeing with Smuldur, a hand twitching as if to start gathering power. But it's a passing impulse; Paenitia's comment about how the man might still be cured helps with that. Unleashing fire within the city was never really an option anyways. "How can we heal him?"
"DON'T! -huff, wheeze- DON'T! TOUCH! HIM!" Now there's another one! A tiny form cloaked in shadow two blocks down. Massive at the top, narrow at the bottom. There's a long, exaggerated sucking-in of air and then the woman starts to run again. There's urgency but her legs are short. She's also not particularly athletic. When she stops a block away to lean against a lamppost you can see it's a gnome with a massive bush of coppery hair. She wears glasses that seem too large for her face. Her skin is ruddy, flushed from exertion, and her practical travelling attire it criss-crossed with bandoliers and belts full of vials, bottles, and sagging pouches. "DamnyouDanayouseektothwartmyingeniousplanjustbecauseyouwon'tbeshownup." Wheeeeeeeeze.
Then she starts running again. She's trying. Maybe if the sled gets stuck on something and holds up the oruch-blooded man she'll catch him.
The infected half-oruch keeps his steady, westward pace. He groans again but doesn't seem to pay much heed to the assembled do-gooders. Or do-the-thing-to-make-the-money-ers, at least.
"Hmmm..." Paenitia says, looking quietly at the trudging man in the flickering light and her open healer's kit. What would it take. "You need the protection, to hold him down. I put the cream on. Outside town, make the tent he stay in, summon the clerics of Althea with the Remove Disease spell. If the spell work not, will be many days."
It's a commitment. She's not managed to find the cream she needs, "Or follow to the source, to see who need the rescue there and also to set the fire."
Then there's a gnome running up. "Hm. Hola! You do not wish to catch the man. He need a wagon for his wagon, or cut the straps so he move faster."
Karasu keeps to the back of the party as the woman goes huffing by. Then, he recognizes the woman and lifts a hand toward her. "Eustangellabledine?" He says, slightly uncertain. "What are you doning here?"
Don't set the zombie on fire. Don't set the curtains on fire. Don't set the explosives on fire... Everyone is so picky about what they wan't on fire. Smuldur would complain, but he's distracted by the arriving gnome. Now he can't even touch the oruch? Well, that's no-"Ooh! Wassat?!"
A shiny contraption, even one made by a gnome (thus not as good as superior graftsgobbership) is still ... shiny. And a gizmo/thingamabob/doohickey. He now scampers to check out the thing on the sled. He was only told to not touch the oruch, afterall. And there are levers!
"You!" Lysos says, raising a finger to point at the gnome woman in pursuit of the oruch-drawn sled. "Why are you here? Do yoy know about this?" she says, trying to keep her tone short of a accusing, but unable to keep completely at bay the fear of coming face to face with the plague they were warned about.
GAME: Smuldur rolls perception: (18)+10: 28
"Uuuuuuh," goes the half-oruch, the rope whining complaint as he leans forward and tries to press ahead. The sled is stuck on a cobble. It's the break Eustangellabledine needs and she hops back onto the end of it, wrapping her arms around the contraption Smuldur inspects to help keep her seat.
"Ohhelloyouall." The gnome greets the assembled adventures, yawping and bouncing when the strain of the rope is enough to make the sled skip and jump, bouncing over the cobbles before settling as the half-oruch continues apace.
"Youcannotcurehim." She warns Paenitia, narrowing huge, distorted eyes from behind her glasses. "Hetakesustothesourcewherewedestroythem." She has to pause occasionally for breath, still winded as she is. "Thecaravanencounteredthesporecomingintothecity." Now she's looking over the slapdash contraption to make sure it's still intact. "IhadtostealthisonefromAltheabeforetheysquelchedthepox." A deep breath, a sigh. "Anounceofpreventionisworthapoundofcure!"
Karasu nods to the woman in question. "If he can not be cured, then his life can have value in the saving of other lives." He moves slightly toward the contraption. Close enough to keep it in sight. "If I can be of assistance, in service to Vardama, I will be so."
Smuldur was going to help with the levers. The pulling and pushing, that is. Possibly scorching. Then there's a gnome caught up and in the way! "Follow to sourcererrr! Burn!" He lifts Torchie high and waggles it. He still might try and flip a lever or three, also. To help.
Wow. For once, Aryia was in agreement with Karasu and Smuldur. She gives a little nod the speedy talking gnome, and thumbs up approves of the plan.
Lysos shakes her head slowly. "Sure. Tell that to his mother, maybe? Or his kids? How do you know he can't be cured?" Her eyes are still wary when she watches the infected man pulling the sled, falling into a pace that isn't too close.
Paenitia turns her Smiling Man mask towards the hyperventilating, and hypersylibating gnome. She stares silently. Her glance moves to Karasu, then she shifts, twisting in her saddle to stare down the street.
Is the Oruch navigating the streets, turning corners, or is he on a direct trajectory towards... something? She thinks over what she saw in the area at other times, if she can recall any features.
Ramirez steps back, several more clocks. Her lance is inverted in its sheath, her mount remains a mobile lamp post, "I dismount!" The Red Knight slides down her hippogryph's wing to the ground, bringing her healer's kit with him.
"No. I think you are wrong and I have the cure. I make the vow to assist, I must try this. Anyhow who help, drink this, rub this on your hands, then hold him. I apply to him."
The little lucht starts her preparations.
Aryia steps forward, her clenching her jaw behind her mask as she is given various medicines to try and help.
"No. Nonononono." Eustangellabledine is standing on the sled now, steadying herself against the bomb as the half-oruch drags them and Paenitia makes her preparations. She takes a round, gnome-sized grenade from her bandolier and holds it cocked to throw. "Ifyoufixhimhewon'ttakeustothecolony. Ifwedon'tfindthecolonymorewillgetsick. Onedumborctosavedozensorhundreds! DamnyouDanawhydoyousendyouridiotagentstothwartmybrilliantsolutionsateveryturn!"
Follow, and burn! Smuldur is happy. Gleeful, even! Even if it now may be heal, follow, then burn? Well, there's still burning in there!
GAME: Lysos casts Hydraulic Torrent. Caster Level: 8 DC: 19 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+8+6: (11)+8+6: 25 (CMB Bull Rush)
Oh. That's a bomb. Lysos's eyes go wide, then she brings her hands up, slapping them together and then holding them before her as if grasping an invisble ball. As power gathers, she shouts, "Soakus Mostus!" and that power erupts in a geyser of water sent splashing at the crazy gnome, tipping the sled and sending Eustangellabldine tumbling from it.
<OOC> Aryia nod nod. Within range then. "Going to flying kick over there, replace attack with disarm (provokes), <OOC> Aryia says, "then try and trip them. Then do a lot of yelling in sign" GAME: Aryia rolls cmb: (11)+12: 23 GAME: Aryia rolls cmb+2: (14)+12+2: 28
Aryia blinks as a grenade is pulled free, her gasping behind the mask just before she could help the half-orc. She dashes forward, ducking past the torrent of water and kicks their hand, smacking the bomb out of their hand and sweeping their legs to knock them to the ground. The deft elf catches the bomb on it's way down. "STOP! STOP!" she motions sharply, hissing and holding a hand out. <Handspeech>
<OOC> Jinks says, "They're going to try and drink a potion, Aryia. Would you like an AoO?" GAME: Aryia uses an AoO! 5 remaining. GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (17)+12: 29 (AOO targeting the potion)
Aryia slaps something out of the gnome's hand, and in the same motion "STOP!" <Handspeech>
"Pffffft!" Eustangellabledine sputters with her arms crossed as she goes flying back from the sled, tumbling across the cobbles but somehow coming back up to her feet with the bomb. Then the mul is there, tripping her and knocking away the grenade. "Youaregettinginthewayofthecorrectsolution!" She shouts in frustration from her back. She has another vial in hand she aims to drink only to have that knocked away, too. "AaaahDanayoufesteringboilonthebuttofprogressI'mtryingtosaveliveshere!"
Karasu watches the ensuing fight with something akin to horror growing on his features. "You could-" He tries to talk but it's already to late. Rather than discuss things, they've already degraded into a fight. He knows that his words will solve nothing of this problem, and it seems that everyone has already drawn their lines in the sand. He however will have nothing to do with it.
Karasu turns from the fight and leaves. Disappearing into the darkness from whence he had come.
The half-oruch continues on now that Aryia is no longer holding him in place but his pace is further hindered by a sled and its weighty cargo upended and dragging awkwardly behind him. "Uuuuh," he observes, oblivious to the chaos he leaves in his wake.
GAME: Paenitia used a Healer's Kit. (On Self) GAME: Paenitia used a Healer's Kit. (On Aryia) GAME: Paenitia used a Healer's Kit. (On Aryia's heal check) GAME: Paenitia used a Healer's Kit. (on Oruch) GAME: Paenitia rolls heal+2: (5)+11+2: 18 (Treat Disease self, +2 Healer's hit) GAME: Paenitia rolls heal+2+3: (2)+11+2+3: 18 (Treat Disease Aryia, +2 healer's kit, +3 1/2 cav levels) GAME: Aryia rolls heal+2: (13)+4+2: 19 (Aid Another) GAME: Paenitia rolls heal+2+2+3: (18)+11+2+2+3: 36 (+2 Aid Another, +2 Healer's Kit, +3 1/2 Cav level)
Paenitia has put on her protective equipment, gloves primarily. Another mask would be absurd, a mask on top of a mask on top of a mask. She's got her paste and applicator ready, and then...
...the gnome has a grenade?
Before she even has time to react, there's a rush of water, a flying Mul'niessa and flying hands and feet. And elbow. The gnome is on the ground and the grenade is in hand.
She rushes over to the Oruch, who is heading on his way and turning street corners. Note for later. Getting close and even standing on her closed healer's kit, the Red Knight is able to apply the cure.
It works so quickly, the oruch drops instantly. He crumples into sleep. The little Lucht barely able to break his fall. "Ufff."
"That man..." She starts to say, looking for Karasu who has vanished, then faces her mask towards the gnome"... he is right, and you are right. You make the compelling argument. Let one infected suffer to save the many. Yet, I have cure him. But! Do not worry! You can be the infected now, and we follow you."
Paenitia rips open the tunic, showing off the distended belly of the oruch. The purple of the disease is much darker, his skin has a fungal texture to it. Who knows how much longer he might have lasted. "Come rub your face here before I put the more cream on."
GAME: Smuldur rolls disable device: (18)+3: 21
So, heal, follow, boom? Heal, boom, follow? Smuldur is getting more and more confused on the order of things... but so long as there's a boom in there...?
"Boom! Big. Bada. Boom!" He points at the thing on the sled. Right before he starts working on those levers. Maybe they'll help get the sled upright again so they can do all those things in some sort of order.
Smuldur tugs on one lever, then another. When that one doesn't move as far as he wants, he tugs harder. Now it moves... right off and out of the... whatever that was it was attached to. "Ha! Ready!" He holds the lever up high to show it, then taps it on the side of the big bada boom.
Lysos has her hands raised, hands trembling a little bit, not quite understanding that the bomb has been defused just yet. But at least Eustangellabledine seems handled. At least for the moment. Her grenade in the hands of someone hopefully less inclined-seeming to use it. As if to offer some measure of consolation, she says, "We can find the.. what did you call it? Source? Some other way. Maybe a druid can help." Yeah, that would probably go over well with the Dana-hating gnome.
The gnome lady sits up, her glasses are stuck under her nose and the coppery bush dangles around her face like soaked, sickly kelp. She huffs, the lenses of her glasses steaming as she deliberately manipulates the mass of tangles back out of her face and behind her ears. Then she fixes her glasses. Then she takes off her glasses and tries to find a dry portion of her clothing with which to clean them.
"VerywellDana. Youragentshavewontodaybutthisonlyservestoenhanceourrivalry." She mutters the challenge under her breath, frustrated but understanding when she's been bested. "SomedayallwillacknowlegemysuperiorcraftandtheseatintheDomeofHeavenwillbemine!"
Eustangellabledine scoffs at Lysos. "TheAltheanswantsadrivertoexplaintheirrouteandretracetheirpathontheroads." She rolls her unfocused, emerald eyes. "Somuchwalkingandlookingaround. Thesolutionwasrightthere."
Aryia breathes heavily as she holds a hand out to placate the gnome to stay down, the gnomish bomb in her other hand. She looks to it, her blinking owlishly at the device before freezing her frame.
The shadow elf had no idea how to defuse a bomb. So if she doesn't move, it won't explode. Right?
Shimmery eyes just glance between Lysos and Eusta, the shadow elf holding her awkward pose like a tortured dancer.
"It is the great sacrifice for sciiiiiieeence." Paenitia draws out the last word in a teasing fashion, already applying cream to the fungal infused, bloated belly of the orc. "There a face sized spot still here. Hurrrrry. I am going to cover it. You still have the chance to try you solution."
Aryia is right! If she doesn't move, it won't go boom! Probably! Smuldur isn't about to leave her paralyzed, though, (or holding a shiny bomb that -he- could be holding), so he skitters over to try and helpfully take the gnome-bomb from her. The lever is dropped along the way to make room. "Boom! Give little boom!"
"Iamimmune." Eustangellabledine finally responds to Paenitia. Standing and patting the air in Aryia's direction. She pads over, dripping the whole way, to stand over the collapsed oruch and the lucht as treatment is administered. The gnome offers a leg and draws up her pants, showing spotted discoloration like a fading bruise. "Also, myusefulnessisextremelylimitedwhenafflictedwithdiseasesthatimpairmentalacuity."
She leans forward and dangles her arms, mouth opening slightly. "Uuuuuuh," she imitates briefly before standing straight again, pressing her lips together into a thin line, and giving the paladina a look of disapproval. "Butyouareverygoodatthat. It'stoobadthatyou'reanunwittingagentofDana. YoushouldbeawittingagentofEustangellabledineKikniddledern."
Lysos lets her hands drop when it seems like the situation is diffused, brushing them against her skirt before approaching the cart and the people gathered around the sick oruch. Not too close, though. "So maybe, since this plan of yours isn't happening.. you can help figure out a way to stop this without killing random people?" she asks of the gnome.
Aryia looks between Smuldur and Eustangellabledine with the bomb in hand. Getting some reassuring gestures, she gives a sigh and shakes her head at the gobbo. No, his track record was spotty, last time they were together. She holds the bomb for now. She'll give it back later, once tensions weren't as high.
Though, she can't help but tilt her head to the side at the speech, the briskness of it throwing her off. "... c-n - sl-w th- f-ck d-wn...?" a faint, muffled hissing comes from Aryia.
"Ah!" Paenitia says, finishing her treatment on the oruch, then examining the gnome's scars. She nods slowly, facing her with her grinning mask. When the gnome hunches and drools, she once more concurs, "I see why you the smarter one, EustangellabledineKikniddledern."
She makes the oruch comfortable, stating, "He will need more treatment at the Temple to cure the damage it leave, but the infirmary, she is gone."
Some more glancing around. Luchts have low-light vision, not dark vision. She can only see so far. "Like the Man in Black, he is gone. He have the crow, do you think he check the crow-flies heading the oruch was on? Is he go search ahead?"
"Ole! All, you are safe again! There is no bomb." The little Lucht calls out, interrupting sleep with assuring words that will be easy to doze off to. "Come back." Karasu might hear.
"Ican'tthinkwhilemybootsaresquishy." The gnome tells Lysos, walking back down the length of the rope tether. She cuts it short, closer to the sled, and then offers a prolonged, straining grunt as she rights conveyance. She collects the rope and hoists it over a shoulder, preparing to drag her sled and the contraption on it away. "They'reprobablymissinghimnowatAlthea'stemple. Youcantakehimbackandbeheroes."
At Paenitia and Lysos question she lifts one hand and swings a finger to point generally westwards. "Outsidethecityneartheroad." She sniffs, "Probably. Withinaday'sridewithhowthediseaseworks." And then she starts off that general direction herself.
Smuldur pouts as he's told no to the little fiery boom. For about three seconds, as that's how long it takes him to remember about the much larger boom. It's not going to move well, or boom right, tipped over and wet, so he works on trying to get it righted and/or dried. With copious grunting.
"Well you wouldn't have squishy boots if you weren't about to throw a bomb at us," mutters Lysos, thumbing her nose.. discreetly.. at the retreating gnome before she turns to Paenitia.. then blinks when she realizes that she missed Karasu and his raven departing. She frowns a little bit, but ultimately shrugs her shoulders. "Maybe he's looking for it, yeah. But the crazy lady is right, we should get this big guy back to the temple."
The Red Knight looks in the indicated direction, then nods to the gnome. She packs up her kit. She takes a some of the gauze and cleans the oruch as best she can while leaving the salve in place. She tosses the dirty linen in a pile, looks at Lysos, "the burn for that, would be the good idea."
"Ramirez! Ambulance." She has carried injured on his back before. The peacock andalusian snorts, shaking his head, then trotting over and lying down. Paenitia drags the oruch so he's lying behind the saddle, and carefully places some padding and straps to hold him in place. She mounts up.
"Okay, I go to the Temple of Althea. It take the time, Ramirez must walk slow and careful. I tell what we know of the source, then if there time I come back or find you later." She looks at the group, "I can do alone, but will be walk speed if you want come."
Ramirez squawks and stands.
The Altheans will be stoked to have the guy returned. Eust stole him away without asking because she's Smarter Than Everyone Else.
Aryia returns the bomb as the gnome stomps off, her putting her hands on her hips and sighing. She gives a nod at the quick directions and raises a hand, volunteering to go with Paenitia just in case there needed to be any heavy lifting.
Look at that, they did a good deed. And didn't blow up anything.
YET!
