TWO HUNDRED EIGHTEEN
(I/C)
“I dunno,” Wyn smiled. “It was nice ta not ‘ave ta worry ‘bout gittin killt. Dat was refreshin'ly uneventful. South we go den... du Lac, shall we look ahead a bit? At least till we get ta da stair mayhaps?” He shrugged, “Or do we all go togedder wit our new scouting formation? What ye all tink?”
Giving it some thought, Abraxas answered, "Señor Wyntness, dijo we stay together until we find the stairs. Then perhaps tu y Bransond, o tu y Señor Keviche go scout up a bit. ¿Si?”
Cocking a head in that direction and listening to the chirping sounds echoing in the distance, Brendon had taken his towel out and draped it over his head, wrapping the lower end about his face. “If we’re going to walk south we might agitate the crickets. The crickets don’t sound agitated now, but us stepping on them or Lannis crying,” he jerked a thumb towards the Magic User, “something is crawling up his skirt might draw attention to us. Let’s take it slow going through. No need to alert anyone of our presence.”
Reaching down for the bottom of his robe, Lannis rolled it about halfway up and then passed it under his crotch and around the back of his legs. “If you guys are saying that the north passage is a dead end I trust your opinion. Let's try the other way, see what we can find."
“What are you doing, Big Brain?” Kovid asked, beard pursed as he watched the wizard gather the now raised portion of his robe and began tying it in front of his waist.
“I’m girding my loins.”
“What?”
“Holy Hel, Dwarf. Does beer make you deaf? Girding. Girding my loins.” He tied the knot tight and then again.
“What in Thor’s Wedding Tackle for?”
“So locusts don’t get caught under my robes and have a field day eating me.” He placed his hands on his hips, his pinkish robes gathered about his midsection and upper thighs, revealing his low boot with their folded down leather cuffs, and his thin very pale legs with his lumpy looking knobby knees slightly bowed out.
Brendon shook his head, failing to hide his smirk, “Lannis, don’t crickets and locusts eat plants? You have any ideas on where we might be able to relocate a few to the vine hall? If we did that and the locusts came to investigate, maybe they would call the others to them.”
“You know how they say there aren’t any stupid questions?” Lannis asked sarcastically. “Thanks for proving that little gem wrong.” He pointed south, "Locust swarms don't eat plants. Locust swarms eat everything,” he waved his hands all around, encompassing the hall and the party in it. “And if anyone had figured out how to redirect them, there would be statues of him or her everywhere.”
“So what do we do, oh wise one?” Brendon asked exaggeratedly.
“It’s very simple. They only swarm when they are overcrowded and over stimulated, so as long as there aren’t too many we should be okay."
“Ten minutes in your company should solve their over stimulated problem,” the Scout retorted, getting a single finger salute back from the Magic User. “Real mature.”
“What? Isn’t it the Friendship Finger?”
“Enough,” the Dwarf commanded. “South through the swarm we go then. Should we go in smaller groups? In twos perhaps, twenty/thirty feet apart, going as quietly as we can? Might help keep the creepy crawlies settled."
Lyra shook her head. “Does anyone have any incense left? Or even a good smoky torch might help - now that I think about it. I don’t believe insects love smoke or strong scents scents that are burning. Sometimes smoke is used to fend off insects that are infesting gardens. But either way, Kovid, I vote we stay together.”
The wizard nodded, "I should think that if there are quite a lot of them, single file line, maybe hands clasped, would be a way to go. Create less of a profile and if we need to run we won't be spread out."
“OK,” Kovid clapped his hands together. “Let’s do it. Assholes and elbows people, Thor isn’t gonna wait till Ragnarok for us to get looking. Haw Haw Ha ha!”
“You must be a hit at funerals,” Lannis sighed, moving back while Abraxas and Brendon made their way to the front. Once all in place the party began walking south, eyes peeled and weapons ready.
The passage seemed to “T” at the end of the lantern light and as they drew closer, they could see the eastern corridor only turned south again and dead ended maybe half a dozen paces later on. Some old cut out stone niches where there but they were currently empty. To the west of the T, the passage split again, turning south and the cavernous stone becoming worked castle stone once again as well as continuing west a few paces and then meandering north and west, where the chirping insect sounds were much stronger, louder, and emanating from.
Brendon gave the dead end area and the niches a once over (>Wis +2 thief, Red 11) and saw nothing of interest. The shelf areas were empty and were old, but whatever might have been stored in them had been taken long ago and showed no clues as to what might have been there. Meanwhile the rest of the party looked over the other choice. Looking south we could see stairs going up to the limit of the lantern light, ending at a landing, and then turning west. As for the north west passage, we could see maybe 20 paces or so down and outside of the cricket sounding chirping noise, and quite a bit of it, couldn’t hear or see anything else.
Lyra (<Wis check, White 5) kept walking back and forth from the passage to the stairs and stopping to sniff the air and look around. “What’s going on, Senorita Lighter?” Abraxas asked.
“Its…” she paused, walked back and forth one more time and was carefully smelling and sniffing. “Yep. I’m sure of it. The Jailer?”
“What about him?”
“Well, that same smell. I can faintly scent it coming from up there.” She pointed up the stairs.
“But he was left in the Yail, si?”
“Yes he was,” Lannis nodded. “And Ator dropped a spider in his mouth, I want to remind you. So unless eating a spider when you’re dead allows you to turn invisible and walk past us and go up these stairs, we have one of three choices.”
“They are?” Lyra asked.
“One, you’re a drunk and a liar.”
“Hey!”
“Just an option. Two, the Jailer spent lots of time up there, enough time to leave his oily stinky residue on everything.”
“Umm.. ok.”
“And three. There are other Trogs in this castle, and most likely in that direction.”
“Oh…yuck.”
“Yuck indeed.”
Time now is Day 6, 2:11 PM
(OOC)
OK? Up the stairs or towards the chirping crickets/locusts?
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