There Are No Rats in the Cellar

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* Staff: Room of DoooOOooooOoom! *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

         This great meadow rests between two forests. The heady oaks on either side occasionally rustle their branches, as kindly grandfathers looking down upon their grandchildren. Amid the meadow, faerie-elves dance, their giant hips swaying with the breezes and causing miniature earthquakes as they giggle and prance about the place. 

         "I do so love to hug everyone!" one enthuses. And before too long? They've broken into song, a perfect rainbow arcing out of nowhere and suddenly above them!

         "I love you, you love me, we're a..."

         And on and on it goes, the precious song of laughter and light spiraling upwards towards a perfect blue sky.

         And then, a bluebird flies by.

         And poops on you.

         Channel: WhirlChan
         Add: addcom wc=WhirlChan
         Cheat Sheet: http://bit.ly/pnmTow

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Celeste 5m 6'2" 198 Lb Half-Orc Female

   A muscular half-oruch woman who looks like she's just cralwed out of a s   

Imane 3m 5'6" 105 Lb Dawn Elf Female

   A very pale Elf in black shiny leather.                                    

Venom 0s 5'6" 130 Lb Human Female

   A woman(?) about 5'6" in a ragged black veil and poncho.                   

Whirlpool 56s Lb Otyugh

   I am stinky!                                                               

Wu 13m 5'6" 155 Lb Human Male

   Elderly Xian male with a drifting eye and cataracts                       

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Out <O> -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

"So you mean to tell me you called out adventurers because there /aren't/ rats in your cellar?" 

THe barkeep nods towards the guild official. 

"...well," says the Guildsmen, casting a glance over his shoulder, "they're here." He points towards the adventurers. Who have arrived. Just in time ot hear this. 

The barkeep nods again. 

He is tall, bald, and older. His face scrunches up. 

"AIn't no rats in the cellar," he explains, pointing at the door to the basement.

Entering with the rest of the adventurers is a woman capable of immense violence. Practically made of corded muscle and baring a spiked shield and a large sword, Celeste is a half-orc who practically embodies a drive to murder whatever happens to be in front of her, when an ill mood strikes her. Upon hearing that juicy little tid bit, though, she comes to a halt and raises an eyebrow way upwards. "There are no rats in the cellar," she repeats. "Pardon me, but... do you come here often? It's just, usually people call us for the opposite reason."

       Wu blinks at the guild rep and then at the barkeep like an owl. Then again this is not unusally in and of itself. His wandering eye shifts wildly for a moment as he readjusts his hold on his crossbow. "What..? Excuse me but I'm with this one about that." He hikes a thumb towards..well no one but means Celeste. "Are ya daft, man?! No rats is a good thing!"

Venom is silent during this exchange, with only the subtle listing of he rhead to one side, or a slight pivot in relation to the speakers in turn as they chime in to indicate she's paying any sort of attention to the world around her.

Imane steps out from behind Mt. Celeste and eyes the bartender then says to the others without looking, "Nay, I think what our patron is trying to say is that there are usually vermine in his basement and the sudden absence is alarming?" she says with the last bit of ti a question as she eyes the bartender more analytical than angry.

"No rats," says the barkpeep, nodding towrads Imane, pointing at her.

The guilsmen shrugs, then turns to the rest of you. "IT's his money. You wanna inspect a basemnet that doesn't have rats in it, be my guest. It's not like it's THAT weird."

       Wu sighs and then shrugs. "Man wants us to go look then we go have a look. It's his money right? Right. It'll spend well enough if there's nothing down there." he glances around at the others. Over the others. "Right?"

It's a cellar.

It's the cellar of a bar. 

A well to do, bar, sure, in a well to do neighborhood in the upper trade, but still a place where you'd expect to find a lot of wine in the wine cellar, and you're right. 

There's a lot of wine here. More importantly, it's musty and fairly clean. A quick persual, walking the rows, you'd expect to find SOME sign of rats or even spiders. 

... and there's none. Not even a cobweb.

Celeste walks up and down in the cellar, arms folded beneath her breasts as she looks this way and that, inspecting all of the corners for anything worth killing. Nothing, as it turns out; just a bunch of wine and a very tidy space with no rodents, insects, monsters, or vermin of any sort.

"Well, it's clean," she admits. "But I don't see what the problem is that we're here to solve. ...Getting paid is nice, but I expected combat."

Venom goes over the place, presumably, from behind the veil, but, aside from the angle of her poncho on one side suggesting a hand on a holster as she does, there's nary a peep nor twitch to indicate alarm.

Imane looks around and occasionally stoops to inspect the floor and or a low shelf taking note of the lack of common non-humanoid residence of such places.

GAME: Venom rolls perception: (13)+10: 23
GAME: Celeste rolls perception: (9)+8: 17
GAME: Imane rolls perception: (3)+8: 11
GAME: Wu rolls preception: (2)+preception: 2
GAME: Wu rolls perception: (4)+4: 8

Venom gives a mild shiver and cants her head before trilling out a soft whistle as her off-hand emerges from under the poncho, flexing into a quick flickered gesture, then, a more overt rubbing along her other arm, "Cold here. Curious." <handspeech>

Imane looks over her shoulder at the whistle but furrows her brows at the sign language. Despite this, she nods seeming to get the wrongness vibe as well.

       Wu looks around and ...then around again and sighs. "There just ain't nothing here. Unless there's some other room or thing attached to the cellar. This is a waste of time. But.. money is money." Another long sigh and a shake of his head.

Celeste comes to a halt amongst the wine barrels, amd cants her head to one side, furrowing her brow. "Strange," she muses, dropping her arms to her sides. After a moment, she draws her sword; never hurts, afterall, to have your sword drawn when something might be afoot. "The air bears an unnatural chill," she observes, loudly enough for others to hear. "Keep your wits gathered, eyes open. It isn't just clean and quiet, it is far too much so."

Once it' pointed out, the 'cold' can definitely be more felt. An ambient chill in the air out of step with the warmth of the tavern. Sure, it's winter, but it's colder here than it should be. And the chill sort of ...wafts over you, come to think of it.

Venom glances sidelong at the sound of a sword clearing leather, and so, in turn does her Dragonspitter, thumb ratchetting back the hammer.

Imane glances around at the sudden sounds in the otherwise silent basement and then glances around to see the cause before shivering and tugging her jacket a bit tighter, "Did it get colder in here or am I just under dressed?"

       Wu turns his rolling eye about and then closes them all together to get a better feel for the cold, trying to turn his face towards where he thinks the chill is coming from and then opens his eyes. Likely should have kept them closed. Might have helped.

CRASH.

A wine bottle hits the ground, shattering everywhere. There's no indication of what caused it to fall. 

None at all. It just... fell off the shelf.

Venom whirls at the sound, her elegantly macabre pistol coming up to sweep the direction of the crash before it is turned floorward again. Her head lists to the side, then she turns to look back at the others, then back and clicks her tongue.

Instantly, Celeste's eyes are trained on the offending bottle. The berzerker crosses the distance with rapid steps, and stands over the broken glassware with one fist planted on hip, and the other still gripping the hilt of her sword. She leans forwards, and pokes at one of the glass pieces with the tip of her sword. "This becomes irritating," she growls. "Whatever force or artifice lurks in the shadows, stop being cowardly. Come out an fight."

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+7: (12)+7: 19
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 2d6+6: (9)+6: 15
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d6+6: (4)+6: 10

A blade made of ice manifests into the air, attached to a misty presence that materializes behind Celeste. The scything blade pierces her from behind, puncturing through her armor and out the fr0nt. The wound is severe, but it won't be immediately fatal.

GAME: Venom rolls weapon0: (2)+5: 7
GAME: Venom spends ONE use of STUNNING FIST. (1 remaining)

As there comes the sound of a blade thunking into the woman behind her, Venom whirls and tries to sidle around her. With such close quarters, she doesn't dare fire just yet, and so, she brings up a knee to thrust her boot at the apparition, to little avail.

Imane quickly turns and snatches the first available object that can be weaponized, and moves to try and maneuver around to see if there's a foe behind the injured Celeste.

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+7: (19)+7: 26
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+7: (20)+7: 27
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 2d6+12: (6)+12: 18

A nicy presence seems to be solidifying behind Celeste, growqing from outline to a waspy, watery figure. It's arm stretches into a scything blade tthat it rears back and again imaales Celeste from. Those wounds are looking pretty nasty, and only Celeste's warrior reflexes kept them from being mortal.

GAME: Wu rolls ranged: (4)+5: 9

       Wu is squinting in the direction of the combatants as he steps over to one side and way from the stabbity thing. "What in the hells.." he mutters to himself as the heavy crossbow is lifted... at a /really/ odd angle. And the man turns his face away from where the bow is aiming! *THUN* the bow goes off and a bolt flies over everyones head and bounces off the cieling before angling back down and smashing bottles of something on the other side of the fight.

GAME: Celeste RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 10 temporary HP
GAME: Celeste rolls melee-4: (16)+12+-4: 24
GAME: Celeste rolls melee-4: (13)+12+-4: 21
GAME: Celeste rolls melee-7: (17)+12+-7: 22
GAME: Celeste rolls 1d10+11: (4)+11: 15
GAME: Celeste rolls 1d3+11: (3)+11: 14
GAME: Celeste rolls 1d4+8: (3)+8: 11

After issuing her challenge, Celeste suddenly finds an icey blade sticking out of her chest, between her breasts; that makes her muscles jerk, but she takes it without a sound. She's more prepared by the second one, even though she hasn't had a chance to turn around; she grits her teeth and takes a knee for a moment, with the sword still lodged in her at least for the moment. Her free hand forms a fist and pounds the floor, as her lips curl into a snarl.

"BIG MISTAKE," she roars, as she reaches over her shoulder to claim her shield. "NOW YOU DIE HORRIBLY!" She rises, spinning around as rapidly as she can; with a bit of ice still sticking out of her chest she whirls to face the honorless whelp behind her, swinging her shield in a wide arc to bash hard, sending chunks of ice flying. She follows up with a powerful thrust from her sword, and roars as she leans in, wrapping her arms around the ice creature as she leans right in and bites off a chunk, spitting it out on the floor beside her as she backs off again. She grins, licking her lips once. "DANCE WITH ME," she snarls, "TIME TO SLAUGHTER YOU."

GAME: Venom rolls weapon0: (10)+5: 15
GAME: Venom rolls weapon0: (14)+5: 19
GAME: Venom spends ONE use of STUNNING FIST. (0 remaining)
GAME: Venom rolls 1d6+2: (5)+2: 7

If Venom is bemused by the miss, she doesn't show it. Her attire is good for that. Gun still held to the side, she twists to try and bring a elbow across the apparaition's 'chin', but misses, though her trailing backfist, however, makes contact.

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+7: (2)+7: 9

Wheeling back from the impact of Celeste's blow, the misty thing is clearly some sort of solid as icy chunks have broken apart from its outline.

IT then wheels back with aa swing of its icy sccthing blade, but it na rrowly misses CEleste's nibmle form. 

The air around it grows much, much colder.

GAME: Wu rolls ranged +1: (16)+5+1: 22
GAME: Wu rolls 1d10+1: (1)+1: 2

       The bow is ratcheted back in one swift motion and Wu sets another bolt home in a very practiced manor. The man lines up another shot while mumbling to himself about nearly invisible people and again looks away from the shot he lines up. Again at a very odd angle. The thun of the bolt is surprising and the bolt clacks agaisnt the thing and spins off into the cellar soemwhere. "Rats!"

GAME: Celeste rolls melee-4: (15)+12+-4: 23
GAME: Celeste rolls melee-4: (3)+12+-4: 11
GAME: Celeste rolls melee-7: (14)+12+-7: 19
GAME: Celeste rolls 1d10+11: (1)+11: 12
GAME: Celeste rolls 1d4+8: (4)+8: 12

Is Celeste bleeding from two wounds that would, for many other people, be not only career ending but life ending? Yes. Does she give a damn? No, apparently not.

"TIME TO DIE!" she screams, as she bats aside a blow from the coalescing ice creature. (One wonders what the people upstairs must think of all this yelling and shouting.) She steps forwards into the creature's space, and swings her sword in a wide arc, catching her foe and knocking a few chunks loose. Her wield swing with her shield misses, but she gets her teeth around it again and just... bites off a piece. "TASTE LIKE SHIT," she pronounces, as she flashes a grin. "KILL YOU AND EAT YOU ANYWAY!"

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d6: (5): 5
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d6: (1): 1
GAME: Imane rolls melee-4: (19)+4+-4: 19
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3+1: (2)+1: 3
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d6: (6): 6

Imane follows up and shatters her b ottle all over it! It sprays across it, revealing a more humanoid frame in the misty veil of frost covering it.

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+7: (6)+7: 13

Weakened, now, it swings back at Celeste, but it doesn't quite manage to pierce her shield.

.. this time.

GAME: Wu rolls ranged +1: (15)+5+1: 21
GAME: Wu rolls 1d10+1: (3)+1: 4

       Wu is cursing up a storm as he reloads another bolt. "Tired of *bleep*ing things I can *bleep*ing see trying to *bleep*ing kill me and other people!" He raised up the crossbow again and turns it forty-five degrees to one side and looks into the wall of wine bottles. The hun goes off and the bolt flys upwards and smashes into what might assume is the thing's head. It sticks there a moment and then falls out clattering to the ground. The thing falls over the other way and crashes to the floor.

...it immediately begins to dissipate, leaving a collection of rat bones on the floor.

WEll, that answers where the *rats* wqere going. It was eating them.

Venom looks to her fellows, at least, it kinda looks like she does, then, after sweeping some of the bones with the toe of her boot, she decocks the gun before returning it to the holster.

If he starts to complain about the rats after this.... Celeste raises her hand, screaming as she's about to smash the creature again; when it gets taken down by Wu. She lets out a breath, allowing her berzerk state to dissipate as she takes a step back. "Wretch," she states, and spits on the remains, before slinging her shield over her back and sliding her sword back into its stabbard. She inspects the ice sticking out of her chest for a moment, before her fingers curl around it. She pulls it out slowly, before tossing it on the ground beside her; she rolls her shoulders once, and turns to head back upstairs.

CELESTE

        The visage of Celeste Cinderfall is nothing short of imposing. The half-oruch stands just over six feet tall, and carries herself with a stature that is not to be trifled with. Her dark brown skin is stretched over lean, corded muscles that have clearly received a great deal of work. For all this she is not ungraceful in her movements; not some over strong clod, this one, but a balanced athlete. 
        Her face is more or less like a human's. She has deep, crystal blue eyes with long lashes, beneath thick eyebrows; her right eye has a freckle, just below the pupil. Her strong nose sits above a set of full lips; visible in the corners are her gleaming white lower canines, that stick out like small tusks. Her long hair cascades wildly down over her shoulders to her waist, and kis ept meticulously dyed a deep, blazing red. When she hasn't tended to it recently and the roots show, her natural color can be seen as a stark white. Between the locks of hair emerge her long, pointed ears, each pierced with wide, golden hoops. 
        Around her neck, she wears a couple of loose leather cords, docrated variously with beads, teeth, and claws. Her shoulders are proportionate to what you would expect a woman's to be like, though her musculature is consicerably more toned and taught than most people's. About her shoulders and torso she wears a ragged portion of scale mail. The metal components have long since gone dull past the point of repair. She wears it much like a poncho over most of her ample bosom. Her belly is left bare, and several claw marks scar her skin around her navel. Her right arm is heavily tattooed; white, tribal-style angels writhe bright orange flames. Her left forearm is marked with white runes, up the length of her bicep. On her right shoulder she wears a heavy, iron pauldron; on her left, the cured hide of a wolf's head. A ragged black cloak hangs across her back, worn and dusty from travel. Slung across her back is a heavy round shield, made of steel and decorated with a bronze chevron; slung underneath of it is a blood-stained trident, mounted on a seven foot haft. 
        Below her navel, her powerfully muscled legs make up just over half her height. About her hips she wears a damaged but serviceable kilt, made from overlapping straps of leather with metal scales for protection. Slung overtop of it is a loose leather belt, supporting a small variety of bags and pouches. Her thighs are bare; her left one bears claw marks, dissimilar to those on her belly. Upon her feet she wears rough leather boots that come to just above her knees; the right one is decorated with several heavy, mis-matched iron plates.

IMANE

        At 5'6" this young Elf would be lost in the throngs of humans and taller folk, going unnoticed for the most part, if not for the fact that she's not human. 
        This blonde elf is most often described as "leggy" by humans and those who share their sense of proportions. While by human standards her legs and even her torso are longer, her overall height is still a mere 5'6" making her shape a bit exaggerated, the curves more stretched etc. 
        Over her body she wears a black leather suit that encases and protects her from her neck on down and looks to be one piece, though, since the back is concealed beneath a waist-length jacket made from forest green fabric, might not be the case at all. What is true is that the suit is nearly seamless in front showing a fine degree of craftsmanship and has been fashioned to have a shiny surface that seems to move like rolling shadows as it pours over the swells and dips of her figure. The suit disappears into a pair of knee high black boots which have a heel to them adding another couple inches to her height. The suit has sleeves which fall to her thin wrists though she also wears gloves so there's really not much exposed skin there either. What is visible is her face and neck which are very pale and fair and provide a stark contrast to the forest green color of her large almond shaped eyes. Her hair is a nearly white shade of blonde and looks long and straight for the most part, though she currently wears it pulled back into a low ponytail which reaches the small of her back, though on either side of her face a spiral lock falls and frames her face. Her lips are a forest green color and shine with moisture while her eyes are shadowed in a similar green all in stark contrast to the pale color of her skin and hair. 

VENOM

       This is a slender, shrouded figure a little over five and a half feet in height, though the rest is mostly up for speculation. From within dark, tattered veils, a feminine profile could be discerned in certain light, while black silk hair pours from beneath the matching train. Clad in rough, heavy oilskin folds of a frayed, black poncho; engraved brass fittings weighing most of it's tapered knee length hem. Beneath that is a pair of loose trousers of deep, ruddy leather, bloused at the knee by boots best described as leather straps that wind from near the top of the calf to two, blued steel cups, much like the foot of many War Golems, with a heavy, waffled sole beneath. Along the left leg, emerging from the hem of the poncho is a lovingly tooled holster for what is probably a dragonspitter of some pedigree, while studded leather gauntlets protect this entity's hands. In the event that speech occurs, a smooth voice, feminine, midranged, issues forth with a steady cadence, accent too schooled to have a regional tinge.

WU

       Standing tall despite his advancing age, this man reaches roughly five and a half feet in height. The years tell true on the Xian man's face and hair. His face lined with crows feet and the start of more serrious wrinkles while his once black hair is more salt then pepper. His eyes are dark in color, black or brown but it is difficult to tell which as the surface of his eyes are blocked by cataracts and one eye drifts out of center down and to the side. 
       He wears a old but servicable chain shirt that falls over rugged black pants tucked into black leather boots. Kitted out as if off to adventure or to war he has a wide weapons belt with two daggers and a long blade on his side. A buckler is strapped to his left arm and over his shoulders are both his pack and a heavy crossbow that's seen lots of love and attention. A quiver hangs from the right side of his belt.