Chapter 2: Out of here - Page 6

Naresh · #76 10-28-2009, 05:45 AM

The hound backs away from the party, into the shadowy corner growling visciously, as they start to examine the statues and talk about them it starts to growl even more, eventually barking and its heckles standing on end

Olorian · #77 10-28-2009, 08:16 AM

"Crap, crap, crap, I can't remember this one..." Digana moans, not able to recall the answer to this riddle. She keeps pondering intensely.

Thamewolf · #78 10-28-2009, 03:26 PM

Still thinking, Bebop muses, "Perhaps, to avoid accidentally wasting our one question, we should take care to address our question discussions to a particular member of our group and look away from the statues, thus ensuring our questions could not be construed as being asked of the statues... riddling animate objects tend to be rather particular..."

Thamewolf · #79 10-29-2009, 03:00 PM

Bebop tilts his head back and forth, weighing the questions. "Yes... we should ask one the other's response... but the question... " he pauses, then, looking at Digana and away from the statues, he follows his own advice and broaches a potential answer, "
Digana, I believe we should ask one statue which door the other statue would say is safe... then go through that... no, no, go through the opposite door... yes, I believe that's right."

Valkyrion · #80 10-29-2009, 08:36 PM

Gildor's mind was still reeling from his wave of emotions, which made him quite impatient and not too willing to think through a crazy riddle. He tapped his foot irritably, scowling at the magical head. When he heard Bebop proclaim an answer, Gildor said, "Good enough for me." He stormed up to the head on the right and asked him, "Will the other head say that the left door is the safe door?"

sixgunNinja · #81 10-29-2009, 09:28 PM

Ezekiel listens patiently while Bebop and Gildor discuss the problem in front of them. He ponders the problem, but has trouble with the whether-toos and the why-fors of the whole thing. The knight tenses when Gildor strides up to the third head and asks him their single question, not having anything to add, Ezekiel waits to hear what the heads have to say.

Olorian · #82 10-29-2009, 09:41 PM

As Gildor approaches the right stone head and asks his question, the chain the head is dangling from starts to rock backwards and forwards. When the head is almost an inch from the sorcerer's head, and opens its mouth as if to bite Gildor's nose, the dry and stony voice says "Yes." Suddenly the rocking stops, as the head swings back to neutral position in an unnatural way, stopping in mid-air without any manipulation from the outside. Its mouth closes again. Then, the proximal ends of the chains of all three heads dissolve into the ceiling, and the heads get pulled up, until finally they blend with the stone ceiling themselves. The doors remained liquid and rippling, and there for the party's choosing.

Thamewolf · #83 10-29-2009, 11:52 PM

Bebop scratches at his neck nervously. "Well, the right door it is then, I suppose... I was recalling the more open-ended, 'which door would the other statue say is the safe door,' but I suppose the logic works the same if you mention a specific door... hmm... I suppose you would have to with the whole yes/no restriction, good thinking."

Tendolhorse · #84 10-30-2009, 04:00 AM

Anyone who looks in Gor's general direction can find the lumbering hulk with a puzzled face. He silently plays with his fingers, pointing at nothing, but attempting to understand the sorcerer's question to the riddle. It seemed to make sense, however, the half-orc felt lost nonetheless. Backing away from the wall, Gor stands in front of the right door. He pauses and mutters, ... Good job.
Having no problem with heading in first, he curiously touches the liquid door. It ripples and a simultaneous feeling of being wet and dry at the same time overwhelm him. He steps through, keeping one foot and one arm back, just in case.

Olorian · #85 10-30-2009, 10:01 AM

The moment Gor's fingers touch the rippling surface of the mahogany door to the right, the liquid wood starts to stir, softly at first, until it increases and becomes a whirlpool, and apparently some kind of dimensional vortex! The air around the ex-inmates starts to blow, and the wind speed gets extremely high within the time span of only a few seconds... until the vortex sucks up all who are in the room!

It gets dark around the party for just a second, until they are spit out by the vortex into another chamber. Behind them is only solid brick wall, the floor they land on is cold, worked stone. In front of you a lit torch lies on the floor, with green thorns sticking out of the wooden shaft. To your right is the only door in the otherwise solid brick walls. Near the door are 5 silhouettes in active motion... one is a young male elf, clad in leather armor decorated with roses, and wielding a large two-handed sabre with an ornate bone handle. The other creatures are spider-like, six-legged chitinous monsters... a large and loudly hissing one, accompanied by three of its hatchlings. As the elf moves around the group of monsters, the smallest and closest one takes a bite with its pincers, but the nimble elf dodges it easily. "What, you say I'm not invited? Well now, such rudeness has only one appropriate answer!"

The elf whisks his weapon through the air, chopping down harder then his slight frame seems capable of. It connects solidly with one of the more fragile of the three hatchlings closest to him, and the ichor released provokes the elf's face to blanch. "Please... not on the shoes... my father made them you know? And I wouldn't want to get him caught up in this mess too, just so I can get another pair."

Then, both the elf and the group of monsters look up at the newly arrived guests. With just a second of hesitation, though, the monsters close in on the elf, and all try to taste his flesh! Fortunately for the young elf, all pincers miss or get stuck in the rose armor. Still, the smell around the group is horrible, as the small ones also started emitting stench, and the elf gets engulfed by the hissing fumes flowing out of their exoskeletons.

Tilal · #86 10-30-2009, 03:20 PM

Tall and slender like most of his kind, the elf you see is a man many would call beautiful. Shoulder length auburn hair, a bit bedraggled from long dissuse, nevertheless has a bright luster to it. His eyes, a sparkling sapphire, hold a dreamy sense of wonder in them as if he were a man just woken up from a long dream. His features are delicate, and he has little muscle on his frame. He moves with an effortless earthen grace, and the only thing that mars his appearance is a cut upon his cheek, very shallow and seemingly recent. A tight-fitting body suit of flexible leather covers him from his shins to his neck, a dull brown in color yet embossed with extremely realistic looking roses in bright reds and greens about the shoulders. His hair is tied back with a strip of cloth that resembles a torn off piece of tunic from a guardsman's uniform, and he has wears a worn pair of deer-hide boots of impeccable quality. A scuffed up sheath rests empty upon his back, and in his hands lay the weapon that suits it. A giant curved blade, its hilt made of what looks like carved bone, with a silvery steel cross-guard and an edge that looks wickedly sharp, rests in his hands.

Not only an implement of destruction, the blade the elf bears is used to fan away the fumes that are building up around him. Backed into a corner, with hungry scaly beasts seeking to devour him, he eyes the vortex-born newcomers with momentary distrust. Then he lets out an abrupt, musical laugh, and slices down viciously, impaling the smallest of the creatures with his weapon in a rather gory display. "Such a shame when a mother outlive her babies, isn't it? Two down, Mother Kruthik, one to go!" His tone is rather smug, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

He clambers over the dying body from which he viciously extracts his dripping blade, trying to fend off the retaliatory strikes from the remaining two foul smelling creatures about him. Pressing himself against the wall, once out of the range of the pincers the elf scrambles away to get a breath of fresher air in the other corner of the room. Holding his blade down in a defensive position, his glance back towards the creatures is rather daring as he gestures towards those gathered with a shoulder motion.

"Unless Braga has lost his xenophobia overnight, I shall assume you are not some of his dreaded Yukolites come to throw me back in a cell. I would be Ossyn of Thornhold, and I would certainly greet you all properly if I were not so busy at the moment!" He sounds a bit self important, but almost tentatively so, as if he's an actor on stage - and not a very convincing one.

Thamewolf · #87 10-31-2009, 01:48 PM

Bebop recognizes the magic being used as the energies reach into the room and pull the party in. His quick-working mind identifies the best place to enter for an easier journey fast enough for his feet to leap in that direction. On the other side, the little gnome, having calculated correctly, lands with a spin and a flourish of his wand and sword. He stands there briefly, breathing heavily, slightly pudgy cheeks red from exertion.

Bebop holds his head high, his red hair and goatee glinting in the torchlight as he steps forward. "You stinky beasts, away from there! Lest I go burn off your... hair?" His voice trails off as his eyes catch up with his bulbous nose and he realizes the beasts before him have much more in the way of chitin than hair in the traditional sense. "I assure you we are not Yukolites... whatever those may be... and we're certainly no friends of this crazy Braga fellow. Furthermore, as soon as my wits clear from the portal traveling I shall attempt to aid you more effectively. Bebop Brazzlebrook's the name, and word magic is, usually, my game."

Naresh · #88 10-31-2009, 01:54 PM

Flint growls again, hunched down, heckles up, he obviously distrusts the Elf, and especially the weird magic that brought them here, the strange and savage monsters in front of them.

sixgunNinja · #89 10-31-2009, 06:21 PM

Tumbling through the void, Ezekiel is unable to regain his footing upon reaching solid ground and falls to the floor with a loud crash. The paladin slowly stands and upon reaching his full hight he looks at the Elf and says, "Hail friend! We do not come to imprison you again, we were in bondage ourselves and now seek to break our chains. If you stand against Braga then you are a friend to us indeed."

Grasping his hammer, Ezekiel charges forward, brown robes flowing, to the aid of the embattled avenger.

Valkyrion · #90 11-01-2009, 11:34 AM

The magical maelstrom deposited Gildor in a heap in a dark room. He stood up dizzily after plunging through the strange vortex, the room spinning around him. He quickly regained focus, seeing the elf in the corner besieged by insect-like creatures. Gildor didn't need any more prompting than that.

The sorcerer took up a casting stance, feet wide apart and hands waving gracefully through the air. Lightning danced from his fingertips, illuminating the room with flashes of yellow light. Then, in the blink of an eye, Gildor pointed at the larger insect, releasing a blast of blinding electricity. The blast impacted with the creature, causing it to spasm as the energy coursed through its body. Tendrils of lightning lashed from the creature, causing damage superficial to all but the smallest insect. The poor thing (if it could be called "poor") was electrocuted by the lashing bolts blossoming from its larger ally.