Other than whatever it is buried, the left behind broken tent and bedrolls, nothing around is of value.
Roleplay 1000 Wands of World Wrecking Wonder IC
- Thread starter FriedCFour
- Start date
"Curious." He could almost swear that the inside of the house is larger than the outside. "We mustn't be rude, however." His blessed mother had raised him better than that.
He knocks on the door again, three times loudly, and waits for any response.
If there's still no answer, then he starts examining and poking the door to try to see just how it's held shut. A padlock, perhaps, or something more like a bolt or bar on the other side?
Once again, there is no change from the knocking. The chorus seems louder, and yet still distant. You can almost make out words but not quite. Your poking also leads you to believe that the door in fact has some give, and that either Varrys was wrong or simply too weak to open it. There does not appear to be any sort of padlock on the door itself either, but instead a small key hole under the handle.
Grav
A confused leftist
“I’ve carried stacks of books for 50 years and I can’t even open a door. Lord Saras give me strength.”
The young dwarf sends a quick pitying glance at the puny, stick-like arms of the elvish librarian. Too much time sitting and reading indoors and not enough time swinging a shovel or hammer in the heat it seems.
Then he turns the handle with vigor, leans his shoulder into the door, and gives it a strong push.
You feel as you push a surge go through your hands and into the door, an extremely strong tingle as if your hand had just been numb and then feeling returned. The door pushes open and a torrent of dirty, smelly water pours forth, a flow up to your knee in height, nearly enough to knock you off your feet. Inside you can see a stream of the water coming through, with stone walkways on either side. With your dark vision you can clearly see rats within, one of which looks as big as a man.
Abyssgazer
Failed Inventor of the Banana Gun
Boris as he was considering digging at the freshly disturbed dirt heard the familiar rush of water, yet it was wrong.
This was the dry lands, not the swamp!
Craning his head he hissed in confusion as the foul water poured from the farmhouse, gripping it wand of unknown effects he moved into the house to see if the gift giver had come across trouble. And if he had, then introduce it to the pain of the iron stick of pain with a single burst from it.
The rat is felled with the spray of missiles. At the same time your body feels a wash of discomfort waft over it, which soon dissipates.
You enter to see a varrys firing his wand at a rat similar to the ones that make up a substantial portion of the swamp diet and a sewage system appearing endlessly from the back of the room through a doorway endlessly spilling forth water.
Ye gods!
He recoils as much from the rancid stench as the torrential mass of gushing filthy liquid. It's an outhouse! — is the first thought in his head, but outhouses weren't so large nor did they have walkways and gigantic, monstrous rats! He fights to keep his balance — an act aided by his squat frame and low centre of gravity — as falling into the muck and getting that foulness into his beard and nose is the last thing he wants to do. With how the flow of water fails to cease, he can only think that it must be the work of whatever strange magic lies on this house.
The badly-drawn symbol on the door, right in front of his face — the sudden jolt to his head from this olfactory assault is enlightening. He thinks, if he squints, that it resembles a woman, and remembers the strange shock that he'd felt when he turned the handle. Perhaps the door is cursed, he wonders, against the touch of menfolk.
He's about to draw a wand and drive back the rat with magical missiles, but the elf beats him to it. Instead, Bierstout grabs the door again and attempts to close it against the flow. "Help me shut the door!" he bellows, hoping that Varrys and Boris can hear him over the din of the rushing water.
He recoils as much from the rancid stench as the torrential mass of gushing filthy liquid. It's an outhouse! — is the first thought in his head, but outhouses weren't so large nor did they have walkways and gigantic, monstrous rats! He fights to keep his balance — an act aided by his squat frame and low centre of gravity — as falling into the muck and getting that foulness into his beard and nose is the last thing he wants to do. With how the flow of water fails to cease, he can only think that it must be the work of whatever strange magic lies on this house.
The badly-drawn symbol on the door, right in front of his face — the sudden jolt to his head from this olfactory assault is enlightening. He thinks, if he squints, that it resembles a woman, and remembers the strange shock that he'd felt when he turned the handle. Perhaps the door is cursed, he wonders, against the touch of menfolk.
He's about to draw a wand and drive back the rat with magical missiles, but the elf beats him to it. Instead, Bierstout grabs the door again and attempts to close it against the flow. "Help me shut the door!" he bellows, hoping that Varrys and Boris can hear him over the din of the rushing water.
Abyssgazer
Failed Inventor of the Banana Gun
Food!
Lumbering through the water Boris fetches the rat wand held at the ready as he's wary and alert for any other packmates it could have nearby. Recovering it he threw it back through the door letting it float out the building before aiding the gift giver in shutting the door to the not swamp.
Both of you fairly easily shut the door, and as soon after the chorus continues on as if nothing happens, water ceasing to flow. You also have one large rat floating in the house pinned against the back door.
Shipmaster Sane
You have been weighed
James goes back to trying to start a fire, and speaks up to Hastria as she sits in the cart.
"What wand did you use, then?"
"What wand did you use, then?"
Draco
Adida
"...oh, um...this one, here."
Hastria holds up the one wand she's used. Thinking on it, she takes her dagger out and carves a small notch into the handle, so she can remember which one it is.
"I think it may have made those men...rot. But I am not certain."
Abyssgazer
Failed Inventor of the Banana Gun
"Yes." The lizard said with some joy at the prospect of a meal.
Boris finished with rendering aid put away his wand and drew his dagger, walking over to the rat he grabbed it and lugged the meal to dry ground to butcher the rat and prepare the meat for cooking. Unbothered by questions of health and safety which any other race might ask to the consumtion of an animal which had come from a place that smelled like refuse.
With his craft skills he'd see if he couldn't fashion a makeshift shield with the sparse materials around him while saving the meat and organs for later meals.
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The fire quickly takes light. Whatever it is that affects you, at the very least, you can still cause harm to a bit of wood.
Given your extensive interactions with these creatures, you are well aware that given around an hour and nothing more than its bones, sinew and hide you can easily fashion a respectable shield from the creature. You would be able to harvest many pounds of meat from the beast as well.
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Shipmaster Sane
You have been weighed
"Well, it seems to only consume those already dead. We can probably make regular use of it without much harm, if that one indeed was the cause."
Draco
Adida
"Aye. Horrid as the results may be."
Shipmaster Sane
You have been weighed
"I'm surprised you decided to stay. That wizard's paper has no hold over you, and you opposed this venture to begin with."