(I/C)
"Cen we go to de book room now, s'il vous plait” Wyn asked, giving Abraxas and Brendon a hard glower. “Mayhaps dere be information in dee books bout de castle dat will be helpful to us." Getting a few half hearted grunts in reply, he continued, “En I tink Monsieur Dwarf mentioned someting from de first day we been 'ere bout oil from a trap dat we might be able ta 'arvest, oui?"
“Yeah. And Jowass did say that the kobolds never saw it or triggered it, so be Thor’s Balls careful.”
“Oui. De par-tee wait in de dinin' room while Monsieur du Lac en moi scout toward de book room? Or ees de torch supply runnin' low en we need to go all togedder?"
“No Senor,” Abraxas said, reaching into his back and drawing out of one his 4 remaining torches.
“Merci. Let us go.”
The group reentered the Ispan’s Castle and once the door was closed, the party gathered together again and walked slowly and with care through the Sitting Room to the Northeast corridor, and then followed it along, stopping to check each door along the way – until eventually arriving at the Dining Room.
“We’ll wait here,” Kovid offered, “While Brendon and the Elf scout ahead to the room marked as Books, not Chalk.”
“We’ll check them all out, just to be safe.”
“Thanks Brendon. Godspeed.” The 4 remaining friends waited until the 2 scouts left and then shut the door slowly and settled down to wait.
Abraxas was quiet, contemplating the recent events before clearing his throat and talking passionately. "Comprendo que Lakack intended. And if el grupo made the decision to kill Joe-Ass, I would have understood that too. Pero, que NO comprendo es that as a grupo, a TEAM, we made the decision to let Joe-Ass go. To head home to Jector, or die in the wilderness, whatever, as long as he was away from este Bastille, which he made promise. And Brandoon Laknas took it on himself to decide against the group, and do what he wanted to anyway.”
Lyra sighed, ““Alright. While the “exchange of feelings” is healthy and probably needed, we should all reconsider this for another day. Jowass is gone and jawing about it while everyone’s nerves are raw and on high alert is probably not helping us to gel as a group.”
The Fighter shook his head. “You unnerstand Layra, he NO trust your intuition, my honor, Kuvoid's wisdom, Wynses' pact making, or Lannisismos' intelligence. He made a selfish decision, and while I thought he was a selfless scout before, now I'm thinking maybe Señor Kovarned was right calling him a thief, un bandito, all this time. For he stole our trust, stole our right to make a decision, and tried to steal Señor Joe-Ass' life.”
The Dwarf nodded his head, fingers playing with a line of mortar on the wall. “I Agree, Manling. Do not dwell on events too long... but do not forget them either. You were in the right Abraxas.”
“Si. I appreciate that, Senor. All that being said, I do apologize amigos. I didn’t feel right sending Señor Joe-Ass on the trip defenselessly, so I returned his dagger to him. I didn’t know how the party would feel about it, so I hid it. I admit that, and lo siento that I hid it. I was wrong not to inform yous. Seeing how things worked out though, I am very happy I did. Does giving him a chance to defend himself and hiding that from the party make me as untrusting worth as Breendon? No sé. That is not for me to decide, and unlike Brandana, I will not make that decision for you. Lo siento a tus, mis amigos. But I would have done it again if giving the choice.”
“The knife was your weapon to give,” Kovid replied. “The thief will have to earn back our trust. In return, I hope he will respect our decisions, our group decisions, and act accordingly from now on... or by Thor’s balls there will be hell to pay.”
“Also, I will just point it out, how many traps or locked doors has he actually scouted? We, both you and me, Senor Dwarfbeard, have been made a fool numerous times. Should maybe Brundun be the one to open things from now on?"
“Nope,” Lyra shook her head, arms folded across her chest, scowling. “If we’re going to have this discussion, we will have it together or you’re all losing a cleric. I’m not dealing with this broken party, divided team shit. I agree what he did was going against our decision and if we collectively have an issue we talk about it together, not behind his back. When there’s divide in a party, people die. One of US dies. Sort this shit out or I refuse to be a part of it. A stupid crown isn’t worth it. Next time we’re not exploring let’s all get a glass of wine, sit on a comfy sofa and talk about how we feel or whatever gross shit you guys want to do. ” With that she plopped herself down petulantly on one of the chairs.
Lannis rolled his eyes and looked under his fingernails for some imagined dirt. "Yeah, sure, whatever Abraxas.” Lifting his gaze he focused on the cleric. “And Lyra, calling you people children wasn't an invitation to sit on that chair and pout.”
“I need your attitude like a splinter in my ass, Lannis.”
“Hmmph.”
Meanwhile, Brendon and Wyn crept north, eyes peeled and senses sharp (WMC: Red/Black 3). So far only distant noises abounded. At the corner, torch burning, they looked around the bend and saw nothing untoward so began walking. Brendon pitched his voice low and whispered, “I’m glad you understand where I was coming from. It’s not that I don’t trust the others. It’s just…” He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing softly, “Let’s just say I’ve seen this choice before and I’ve lost a close friend as a result. So if I have to live with them hating me so be it, but at least I wouldn’t have to mourn them.”
"Do not mention eet, du Lac,” Wyn whispered in reply, the two of them inching their way past the north hall that lead to the hanging room and the stairs – empty except for old blood stains, the doors both closed. “I undastand where you be comin' from and know you meant to do right by us all. I just glad we got some good info from dat kob... so it wasn't a complete waste of time. Sometimes I 'ate when I 'ave such good ideas like takin' prisoners for in-ter-ro-ga-tion... gonna tink twice bout dis next time... onto de scoutin, oui?"
“Wyn, thank you again, it’s good to have a friend.”
They continued on, moving with care (<Move Silently, Red 21..>Move Silently, Orange 17) through the halls. At the enxt door, marked as “chalk” smell, Brendon gave the door another once over (no roll needed) still finding nothing of interest. “Door’s not locked, Opens away from us.”
“Oui, and I kin still asmell the chalk.”
They continued down the passage, heading further west until they could just make out the distant kobold door at the end of the hall, a passage turning north from here, a door on the right hand side about half way down. The two made it to the door after 8 or 9 paces and Brendon gave the door a once over (>Find traps, Red 79) while Wyn went another ten paces to the end of the hall and a bit outside the torch range, his infravision kicked in. The hall was at least 40’ or so, and there was a door on the right hand side. No heat sources and straining, (>Hear Noise, Orange 8) heard nothing nearby.
He returned to Brendon after a few minutes who told him, “Door closed, some use on it, handle’s filthy. Faint, very faint smell of oil. Not locked, opens away from us.”
“Head back?”
“Yeah,” he frowned, “Let’s let the rest of them know what we discovered.
The two friends made their way eventually back to the Dining Room where they were met by the other 4, extinguished the torch to use again later (40 mins remaining) , the Scout and Fighter not making eye contact with one another, and shared what they had learned.
Time now is 10:27
(OOC)
Ok – Chalk Room, Book Room, and Hall beyond with another door on right side. Currently lantern has about 2 hours of oil in it. What’s the plan?
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