THREE HUNDRED EIGHTY THREE
(I/C)
Lannis gave Brendon a quick shove towards the leaking bladder of effluvia, "Quick, get the Chicken of the Castle down by Smallbob’s door and let's move before my Alchemical Romance gets here!"
Kovid held his hand up, stopping the Scout from heading that way, the dwarf already making his way back to the intersection and then north. “Belay that,” he said with a low rumble, “Maybe we should get the hell out of Dodge? Do we want to be trapped in this hallway if something smarter than just ghouls come this way?”
Wrapping her flail around her shoulder, Lyra glanced back at the goblin door and moved as well. “Yea how about we leave your can of whatever and let’s just get out of here.”
Seeing the group was coming back his way, Lannis skipped backwards and ran back for the Ogre door, the ghoul’s warbling cry echoing down the corridor ahead of him. "Second thought leave it there, recycling is for nerds."
"A el Ogre Room, o no?” Abraxas asked, looking around, flail at the ready.
“Oui,” Wyn waved the Fighter closer, “To de ogre room en close de door”
Nodding and lumbering forward, Abraxas was bringing up the rear, gathering speed as the distant sound of the approaching undead made everyone concerned. “Si el Ogre Room, necessitamos move muy rapido, antes de Los Ghouls arrive. Vamonos amigos!”
The group ducked inside, shutting the door closed. Lyra braced her foot just under the door, hand on her holy symbol as she listened to the sounds outside, trusting in Aine to protect her should the worst happen. Wyn had found a wedge near the remains of the ogre’s bed and gently pushed it under the door, tapping it in place with the toe of his boot.
“After de ghouls come by and dey start feasting on de dead, we cen decide what to do next,” he said.
“Dinner time,” Brendon whispered as we could hear running feet charging up to the door from the hallway…and then ran past the door, followed by the wet thud of something being hit and then a pair of ear splitting ululating screeching cries.
Abraxas had moved to the corner of the room, looking at the signal bell still hanging there, rope attached to it and running into the wall. It moved lightly, the alarming portion disabled some days ago. “Yo quiero ese bell," he whispered as he reached up and worked the pin holding it in place free slowly, hand inside the body and fingers pinching the clapper to keep it silent.
Outside we could hear cries, screams, and animalistic ripping and tearing sounds. Something was eating, and doing it with messy gusto. It was after about 3 minutes that we heard a THIRD ghoul cry in the distance run closer in answer to the 2 ghouls currently ripping the hobgoblins to shreds. And then a few minutes later 2 more ghouls came jogging up to join the feast.
“Yeah,” Lannis whispered VERY quietly, “Let’s not fight 5 fucking ghouls. Ever.”
Abraxas meanwhile had gotten the bell free and Kovid wrapped it up in the ogre’s towels. The Fighter then placed it in his pack while the dwarf tied a large binding knot in the rope that would prevent it from slithering into the hole. Outside it sounded like wolves or lions shredding into some prey that had been taken down, the tangy coppy smell of blood mixing in with the foul smell the hobgoblin’s had produced with the sealed bladder of rotting guts.
It was almost 15 minutes later before we heard a goblin voice calling out in its language, “That’s enough! Go! GO!” the Ghouls answered with growls and snarls, a few yells but the goblin voice continued to command the ghouls to leave. With obvious sounding reluctance, the undead ceased their feeding and we could hear then padding their way north. What was new was the sound of something being dragged along, the Walkers’ grunting as they pulled a dead partially eaten body or two behind them in their wake.
Eventually the sound of ghouls faded away but the group held their breath, listening.
“What now, Smallpox?” a goblin asked in its language. Brendon and Wyn had their ear near the door, listening and translating for the group.
“The situation is falling apart, my children.”
“Do we leave?”
“No! We stay. But the Blessed Corfard has put too much trust in those who have failed him.”
“Rampant Zealotry will be pissed.”
“True, my children. But this has proved that no one is safe. We will no longer stay in three creashes. I want the other two joined with ours from now on. No one goes alone, anywhere.”
“Two hands plus went down to hunt the invaders, Smallpox.”
“They will return up here in time. When they do, we stay together. Safety in numbers.”
“Yes, Smallpox. What about…this?”
“We tell Mirabellis. While there we link up with the creash there. Then we get the third creash cleansing Catharadamus’ area.”
“Fury and Zealotry will not like it.”
“I couldn’t give a Troglodyte’s wet stinky SHIT what they think! And I’ll TELL them that! This entire situation has gone from BAD to Goat Ass Shit Eat and Puking Elf Stabbing on Fire TERRIBLE in less than 5 days!”
“As you say, Smallpox.”
“Let’s go. You have the bags?”
“Yes, Smallpox.”
“Great. I want more scrolls from Mirabellis. We’re not going to be caught with out arrows in our quiver.”
“Should I leave the Spinner or bring it?”
“Bring it. Step around the blood. Watch out for that gore. What a fucked up mess this is. Come, my children. To the Wizardress.”
And then we heard the sounds of MANY footsteps heading east, fading…and then gone.
We waited another 3 or so minutes until Brendon gave the thumbs up that there was no one nearby.
“Hokay, we need a plan on where to go,” Wyn said softly. “Any ideas?”
Time now is Day 9, 10:29 AM
(OOC)
5 ghouls, but they didn’t all arrive together – was spaced out over 4 or 5 minutes. Door is still shut. What’s the plan and where do you want to go? Good luck!
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