Roleplay 1000 Wands of World Wrecking Wonder IC
- Thread starter FriedCFour
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Draco
Adida
(To be clear, Hastria was pointing her wand at Boris, not at the group.)
"Do not bid me stay my hand, when the beast draws so near! Did I not see him devour a man in cold blood, at your word?!"
"I DO NOT SPEAK DWARF, YOU BLITHERING BUFFOON!!!"
Hastria looks at Bierstout, aghast.
"...is that meant to comfort me?! That I travel with a creature so barbaric and dull witted that a careless word will give him cause to turn a man into a meal?! What assurance have I that he will not do so once more?! On the honor of the lizard, an idiot, drunk and a man-eater all?! Such assurance indeed! How do I know for certain you do not deceive me?!"
Shipmaster Sane
You have been weighed
"He won't be eating any more men."
James says calmly while picking through the armor they've collected for the one that suits him best.
"By my word on it, else you can run home."
Draco
Adida
Hastria ponders his words for a while, her breathing slowly returning to a more regular pace. She looks at James, then Bierstout, then Boris, before finally she lowers the wand..
"At your word, then."
Abyssgazer
Failed Inventor of the Banana Gun
Rusty cogs grinded with the bare lubricate of alcohol, yet as a Lizardfolk that square peg of understanding just fruitlessly bashed on the triangle hole.
Softskins were strange as always Boris, shrugged.
"No one would ever share the gift of Boris with food." He stated in hissing draconic tongue the obvious before giving up and gulping down more ale thumping his tail as he decided his course. "One eats Food, not share with it the gift of Boris."
Snorting, he looked in the direction of the carts. "The sun moves quick and is wasted here, the Hatchling will hide for some time. We may return later for it when it has calmed. Will the softskin of books and paper come with us?"
"Gift giver, take care the hatchling is cornered. Watch you're fingers, or else the little one will bite one off if not careful." He rumbled.
"More than the hatchling gift giver, if you know where to go now. I Boris shall follow." He said in the stubby kin of Boris's tongue, standing with a quaff of ale Boris let the pleasant blurriness of the drink mist his vision as he readied to leave.
The only thing of interest you notice is that the goo spewed forth by the two men appears incredibly sticky, and in vastly higher quantities than a human stomach could possibly hold.
You find a suit of leather that fits your size and shape fairly easily. It's surprisingly very clean, for having had a deadman who quickly became a skeleton inhabit it.
Grav
A confused leftist
Varrys glances at the bodies and Theo.
“Get sum that into a bottle, we’ll take it along for study.”
He then thinks about where they should go.
“I’ll travel with the group going to the farmhouse, anybody who needs to rest should go back to the carts.”
"Interesting, so it seems to be magically generated. Certainly unpleasant, but should not have had that effect on him." He noted out loud, "So that wand seems to summon some sort of goop in the targets stomach."
Theodoric nodded, "That seems prudent, the more we know the better we can note its effects. A good job on this would reflect well on both of us, the apprentice and the master." He then added when he realized that it was leaving the others out, "And hopefully a ticket for to a better life for our companions."
He went to gather the goop, making sure to avoid contamination as much as possible.
You all leave the site of the murderous devastation, corpses left where they fell under a brilliant night sky. The sun has gone down, at this point, and yet the streams of color have left the area more illuminated than any moonlight could. As you head back to the carts and awkwardly part ways, Theo, Boris, Varrys, and Bierstout tramp off back into the night while James and Hastria stay back with the wagons.
It isn't long after that James and Hastria see fellow travelers along the road. A farming family James recognizes as the Longfellows, a farming family a few acres away from his own free-ranging chicken herd and have hired you from time to time, is hurrying quickly along the road. Patrick Longfellow is leading a cart full of whatever goods they had brought to the festival, likely plenty of his well-known sauerkraut, and some of his younger children and a few grandkids and their mothers, while the rest of the adults walk alongside the cart, a troop of around 14. There seems to be a sense of urgency on the faces of the adults while the children are happily chattering.
Patrick, noticing James, calls the group to a halt, and hurriedly jogs over to Patrick. When he catches sight of Hastria his look turns a bit puzzled but quickly returns to worry. He says to James, "I don't know if you've imbibed much James and missed it, but the sky all of a sudden shifted into that thing." He says, pointing upwards, and goes on to say, "The town's been in a bit of a panic. Well some of us, anyways. The dwarves and many of the people have all taken to celebrating the sight and are making merry in the streets, while many of us farmers are quite worried. You never know what that kind of thing might be the harbinger of. Myself, I'm sending the rest of my family off to Bridgeton while I stay around and make sure nothing happens to the farm."
.....
Meanwhile, the rest of the party passes by the array of the dead, and continues on with the directions the last bandit gave. Sure enough, after a 30-minute trek north, you find an extremely hastily dismantled camp, with nothing but a few broken tents and sleeping rolls left in a small clearing The vagabond had been correct. The survivors had returned and since left with anything valuable in the camp itself. The matter of whatever the leader had buried was yet to be seen. As you make your way around one hundred feet ahead of there, you see the scorched, crumbling stone around a roofless building standing around seven feet in height, overgrown weeds and grass surrounding it. The site had long since been abandoned.
As you make your way to the back of the farmhouse, sure enough, there is a patch of dirt where something has been freshly buried. At the same time however, you notice two peculiar things. The first, is that a wooden door that appears fairly new has been placed where the old would have burned away. At the same time, you begin to notice a murmur, and with a bit of time, you realize it is a muffled chorus of voices emanating from the inside of the house. What do you do?
It isn't long after that James and Hastria see fellow travelers along the road. A farming family James recognizes as the Longfellows, a farming family a few acres away from his own free-ranging chicken herd and have hired you from time to time, is hurrying quickly along the road. Patrick Longfellow is leading a cart full of whatever goods they had brought to the festival, likely plenty of his well-known sauerkraut, and some of his younger children and a few grandkids and their mothers, while the rest of the adults walk alongside the cart, a troop of around 14. There seems to be a sense of urgency on the faces of the adults while the children are happily chattering.
Patrick, noticing James, calls the group to a halt, and hurriedly jogs over to Patrick. When he catches sight of Hastria his look turns a bit puzzled but quickly returns to worry. He says to James, "I don't know if you've imbibed much James and missed it, but the sky all of a sudden shifted into that thing." He says, pointing upwards, and goes on to say, "The town's been in a bit of a panic. Well some of us, anyways. The dwarves and many of the people have all taken to celebrating the sight and are making merry in the streets, while many of us farmers are quite worried. You never know what that kind of thing might be the harbinger of. Myself, I'm sending the rest of my family off to Bridgeton while I stay around and make sure nothing happens to the farm."
.....
Meanwhile, the rest of the party passes by the array of the dead, and continues on with the directions the last bandit gave. Sure enough, after a 30-minute trek north, you find an extremely hastily dismantled camp, with nothing but a few broken tents and sleeping rolls left in a small clearing The vagabond had been correct. The survivors had returned and since left with anything valuable in the camp itself. The matter of whatever the leader had buried was yet to be seen. As you make your way around one hundred feet ahead of there, you see the scorched, crumbling stone around a roofless building standing around seven feet in height, overgrown weeds and grass surrounding it. The site had long since been abandoned.
As you make your way to the back of the farmhouse, sure enough, there is a patch of dirt where something has been freshly buried. At the same time however, you notice two peculiar things. The first, is that a wooden door that appears fairly new has been placed where the old would have burned away. At the same time, you begin to notice a murmur, and with a bit of time, you realize it is a muffled chorus of voices emanating from the inside of the house. What do you do?
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Abyssgazer
Failed Inventor of the Banana Gun
There is prey in its den.
Ale with Brown specks had told him to enter the den of preys was dangerous. Boris knew his cousin was smart, and very good hunter.
"Boris thinks we place the iron spikes which bring pain to feet outside the doors, then bring the flame to the softskin den." He lazily voiced in dwarven tapping his bag of caltrops.
"Boris also thinks we surround the den and call out, make prey come out and use the sticks of anger and magic as they come out. Then if they don't, then bring flame to the den and force softskins to come out."
Shipmaster Sane
You have been weighed
When they arive, James begins to try to start a fire, but rises when he sees the small caravan on the road. He walks over to greet his neighbor and hear him out.
"Aye, that may be for the best, we'd be off ourselves, if those flashing lights and the smell of witchcraft hadn't disturbed the animals so. I had half a mind to search out the source of the stuff, but thought better of it. For my part, that old conjurer at the fair promised me a goodly sum if I'd haul that great barrel of his effects as far as Greystone."
James offers him a bag of flour and half his rations of cheese, more out of politeness, seeing they have plenty of food with them. Into a sack he puts them both, along with a dagger and sheath. He ties the sack of goods around one of the cudgels taken from the bandits, a surreptitious way to ensure they have something with which to defend themselves, but not alarm the fainter folk among the family.
"I'll send after your kin when I come to Bridgeton."
Hmph. It looks to Bierstout like the two cravens have indeed returned to their camp and, having picked up anything they could carry, have already cut and run. Perhaps he should have given chase immediately, when they were still within wand-shot, instead of celebrating. He reminds himself to look for footprints, crumpled grasses, and broken branches to see if they give any clues as to which direction they might have taken.
But this house is strange indeed. The interrogated bandit hadn't mentioned their little band doing anything to the farmhouse itself other than the leader burying the (still-undisturbed) treasure, but someone had apparently installed a new door? Why would the bandits have done that and then camped a hundred feet outside?
Then he hears the voices.
At first, he thinks that the bandits might really be inside. But there's far more than two voices, and even if their prisoner had lied about their numbers surely this small building could not hold so many? Moreover, the building was without a roof, so shouldn't the voices sound like they were right next to him, instead of strangely muffled? And with how dark the sky was, shouldn't whoever was inside have lit a fire or lanterns by now?
His beard begins to tingle. There is something peculiar afoot. Another step on his new adventure.
"I will go ahead and knock. You three stand back and ware should some evil befall me." So saying, he quickly strides up to the door and smartly raps three times.
But this house is strange indeed. The interrogated bandit hadn't mentioned their little band doing anything to the farmhouse itself other than the leader burying the (still-undisturbed) treasure, but someone had apparently installed a new door? Why would the bandits have done that and then camped a hundred feet outside?
Then he hears the voices.
At first, he thinks that the bandits might really be inside. But there's far more than two voices, and even if their prisoner had lied about their numbers surely this small building could not hold so many? Moreover, the building was without a roof, so shouldn't the voices sound like they were right next to him, instead of strangely muffled? And with how dark the sky was, shouldn't whoever was inside have lit a fire or lanterns by now?
His beard begins to tingle. There is something peculiar afoot. Another step on his new adventure.
"Wait, lizard." Bierstout holds out a stubby arm, emphasizing his words. "I do not rightly believe that these are the would-be bandits' compatriots. There is something strange and mysterious about this farmhouse, and attacking without just cause would render us the villains."
"I will go ahead and knock. You three stand back and ware should some evil befall me." So saying, he quickly strides up to the door and smartly raps three times.
Abyssgazer
Failed Inventor of the Banana Gun
Blinking as the gift giver walked forward to the home filled with whispers. Boris didn't quite understand why he would inform prey like that, however he supposed he should act as the experienced hunter watching over a hatchling learn.
He followed behind the dwarf a few paces with a new wand he hadn't used before, ready to induce pain and death to the prey if it attempted to harm the gift giver.
The farmer raises his hand and says "I couldn't take that from you. But..." he pauses, drawing from his pack a decent sized wooden container, "If you want some sauerkraut we have plenty. Couldn't offload as much as usual, on account of this mess. You'd do me a favor by taking it, keep some of the weight off my weary bones. And if you could do that I would greatly appreciate it." The farmer produces a silver piece, and hands it to James. "I'll have my eldest pay you double upon your return." With that, the man heads back, and continues on his way with his family.
You knock at the door three times sharply, wait, and.... absolutely nothing has changed. The chorus continues exactly as it had been.
Grav
A confused leftist
Varrys opens the door.
The door opens. Inside you find a surprisingly cleanly swept set of stonework flooring that appears somewhat new under the scorched rocky sides. The chorus appears louder than before, and near the back you can see yet another new door, surrounded by again new stone, with what appears to be the crudely drawn symbol of a woman. The voices seen to be emanating from that.
Grav
A confused leftist
Varrys opens the door.
Try as you might, this door appears to be locked.
Grav
A confused leftist
“Interesting, Bierstout! Want to check this contraption? It appears to be locked.”
Abyssgazer
Failed Inventor of the Banana Gun
Snorting and shaking his head Boris steps away from the home to sip his bogwine and pick through everything around the farmhouse.
Perhaps he'd find something worth hawking for more alcohol back in the softskin towns.
If nothing else, then those sleeping rolls could be sold for some ale or brewing money.