FOUR HUNDRED EIGHTY FOUR
(I/C)
“Chimney?” Lyra asked.
"Si. Vamonos amigos,” Abraxas waved his arm east. “Dijo que miramos a el fireplace y see how malo el damage es. Maybe si vistamos Shriekers, usamos el aerosol poison en them? Con los Roberts watching los stairs, el fireplace may be our best way back upstairs sin un direct fight."
The party was silent as they tried to parse out what the Fighter suggested, with Kovid hesitantly nodding and then asking, “So…to the dining room?”
“Si! That’s what I suggested! Bueno!”
Shrugging in agreement, Lannis pulled up his arm length gloves a bit tighter and then clapped his hands together. "Alright Ramblers, let's get Rambling, go take care of these Shriekers you seem so concerned about before the non mobile fungi sneak up on us.” He snapped his fingers twice and waved them in a circle over his head. “Heads on a swivel, I'm done getting ambushed for now, that means you Cochise, your eyes are set apart to watch for predators." Lyra, Wyn, and Brendon all gave him harsh looks and fingers, the three of them unsure which of them he was directly insulting at this moment.
Blowing a puff of air in frustration, Wyn asked rhetorically, “Ees it possible fer us to do anytin witout givin each odder a hard time?” Before anyone could answer he grinned and slapped his own leg, “Ha! No. De answer ees no, of course.”
"Who did I give a hard time?” The wizard asked looking around innocently, “Lyra doesn't count, she's not people."
“I pissed in your hat,” she snarled at him.
The Scout held his hand up, placing on Lannis’ shoulder and getting him to calm the hell down. Moving to the front, he suggested, “Let’s not be surprised like before when something came from a room we thought was empty. I know, or rather I hope, the number of occupants are dwindling. But the last time it was a group of clerics popped out from a room we had already cleared. It can’t take but a few seconds to either look or listen at the doors we pass.”
“Just do your job, Lowbrow, and we’ll do ours, ok? Don’t get us killed alright?”
Cocking his head, Brendon asked, “Would you rather we take care of Locusts, Lannis?”
"Maybe yeah, I feel like I'm on the verge of greatness.” He placed his thumbs in the lapels of his robe and preened. “A greatness you will all hate"
“Fine,” the Scout answered. “I’d be willing to check out the locust area.”
Wyn shook his head and pointed east. “Don’t be dewin’ dat. Focus sil vous plait. Dinin’ room it is. Keep ears en eyes open, oui?”
The party headed east from here, retracing ground they had just travelled on, making their way back to the entrance room and then looping around to the longer east hall before turning north. From here we travelled on, taking Brendon’s advice, and looking and listening at each door on the way. It meant going a tad slower, but it did seem to mollify the Scout and Dwarf who were in the front. The Library was passed and noted (no roll needed – just time) to be without issue. The Store room was next, but most of the beer stores had been removed and the door was left ajar. The third door on the left was the kitchen and a quick listen (no roll needed – just time) made the party feel much better.
The last door was the Dining Hall and the group approached it with confident care, muttering about how they were going to hopefully take care of the shriekers within, while Abraxas was talking about wrapping the tools and picks with towels and cloth to deaden their possible sound. Brendon (<Wis check, +2 thief, Red 7) stopped the group, frowning, noting at first the strange absence of any sound in the area.
The door was closed, but not all the way, it was not latched. Also, there was a faint odor in the air, wafting and fleeting, but there was the sickly smell of rot. And to Brendon’s trained senses and experiences – this was eerily similar in both set up, smell, and just feel as the undead horde attack that had hit the party in the Butcher’s area.
He turned about and raised his hands stopping the group and then fingers to the mouth, making a zipping motion. He pointed back to the room, and mimed a dead look on his face, pinched his nose, and then shook his head twice while firmly impressing on the party to be calm, quiet, and careful. Once they all backed up a step, he whispered very quietly, “Damn it to hell, it feels like undead again, guys. What’s the play? Risk opening it? Moving back? Dare to go past?”
“Do you think there might be enough to help instill greatness in me?” Lannis asked.
Lyra tapped her holy symbol and frowned. “This is the 2nd place they strongly would have suspected we would have gone to down here. I’ll go with Brendon for now, if it is an ambush trap, undead or the like, it would make sense.”
Time now is Day 11, 10:45 AM
(OOC)
In the hall, 15’ south of the Dining Room door that is closed..but not closed all the way. What’s the plan?
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