ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY FIVE
(I/C)
(Roughly 15 minutes earlier…)
Brendon was looking over the accumulated gear with a critical eye. “If no one minds I’d like to take the manacles, the brass ball and the hat.” He glanced at the magic user, “I’m sure Lannis will have hours of fun joking about my brass ball.”
“So sorry you only have one,” he quipped in response.
“Hmmph,” the Scout continued, “We could store the items in the north hallway past the oil room. And destroy what we’re not taking, like the bows.” He looked around with a frown, “Or dump the unwanted weapons in the oil pit.”
Kovid shook his head, “Er, I’ll take the horn. I think throwing the unused gear in the oil is interesting, Brendon, but I’d like to HIDE at least one more set of chainmail somewhere accessible in case my plate gets damaged again.”
Giving the short bows a keen look over, Wyn suggested, "I tink I will unstring deze bows en take de extra strings. I also take a sword, 2 of the days of rations if no one else is going to take any, and the wolf teeth." As he was gathering the items up he went on, “I tink de metal ball could have some other importance... so I glad dat du Lac be taking dat. En we definitely need the horn, so I be glad de Dwarf be taking dat."
He looked back down the hall, “As for the classroom or da hall, non. Anyting else we wanna save en not carry we shud put in de spy closet fer now so we cen press on. As I tink Monsieur Offop will be suggestion, anytin we dont want, we should damage one some way so it can't be used and leave it wit de dead."
“Bueno,” Abraxas said. “Dos sets of chainmail, Dos shields, uno sword, and the last two Iron rations. Gimme a hand, por favor?” As the group worked hard to strip the items off the dead orcs, they also took to breaking and cutting the straps off whatever was left so that it couldn’t be used later by anyone else who might stumble upon it. Buckles were cut, swords bent and shoved under the mattress, and anything that could be damaged was done. "This reminds me,” the Fighter said, “I got to clean out mi casa cuando I get home. Tengo limpiar mucho before I get on a ship to Jector. Will pack up what I can before I go, sell or give away the rest to the boys at the docks most likely. Not much there really.”
“You really thinking about moving to Jector after all this?” Kovid asked.
“Si. You never know. Life is an ocean trip wit’out a compass, and when your ship comes up to dock, you have to decide to sail on or make port. Anyways, let's go speak with the Yailer before we go beat down Corfard. Maybe he's someone we can converse with like La Carcinera or Jowass. If he hates Cordfat too, maybe he will just leave? And we need those other Statues de Plata. Still so much to do. Ah well. Back to it, amigos. ¡Vamonos! We have more Orcas to fell."
As they closed the door behind them, making sure they were clean and clear of any bloody footprints, they took the armor, shields, sword, and extra food and stashed it in Travis’ secret room after shouldering the door open. Once sure it was good enough, they closed it again and continued north to the Beekeeper area.
(Roughly 15 minutes later…)
“Well, that was weird,” Lannis said, stepping in to the Beekeeper room and heading for the table. “I'll be checking in here for anything of interest. Maybe he wrote about something besides bees. Maybee."
Meanwhile Lyra went over to the fallen Beekeeper looking him over while Brendon gave the room a once over and Kovid and Abraxas stood guard at the ready and Wyn manned the hall.
The Scout was sure (<Wis check +2 thief, Red 2) that there was nothing else hidden besides what was out and obvious in the chamber. “About a dozen bees in here flying around,” he said. “Door on the north wall is open about a foot and the hall beyond is dark but maybe 9 or 10 paces long tops. We can check it? Also the door on the east wall is closed and I’m sure is not locked or trapped.”
Lannis sighed, holding the papers on the table up. “Well, the Beekeeper obviously knows how to spell phonetically at best and had the penmanship of a drunk serving wench missing her thumb and suffering from scoliosis.” He put them back down. “I’m sure to him it all made sense, but to us, there isn’t anything of use to be gained by trying to decipher the childish scrawls of a demented hobgoblin with a honey fetish.”
And Lyra stood up (<Wis Check +2 cleric, White 7) dusting her hands off. “It’s obvious the orcs took their aggression out on the Beekeeper. I can see when Brendon stabbed him…”
“No thanks needed for me killing him,” the Scout interrupted.
“Er…yes.” She shook her head and continued, “Anyway, the orcs proceeded to his him with the flat and edge of their swords and there are some signs that he was also bludgeoned about the face and neck. Most likely with their shields.” She sighed. “Unnecessary cruelty. He was already dead.”
“Orcs, Priestesse,” Wyn suggested from the hall with a gentle shrug. “They aren’t known for anyt’ink udder than bein’ a dick.”
Lannis nodded. “Ok, room is checked out. Where to now? North open door? East closed door, or back in the hall and east again?”
Time now is Day 5, 12:03 PM
(OOC)
Explore XP: Everyone add 30.
What now?
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