[Game Thread] Pranks and Pitfalls

[Frogman]

OOC Oops. Misinterpreted your DC. Hoorah for situational dyslexia!

Soilir stares in horror as her hair grows. I'm a bunny...a horrible...mutant...rapid-hair-growth bunny. Gods I need a drink right now.

A couple deep breaths, Soilir attempts to recompose herself. She looks over the room, Garr, the stairs with a thousand yard stare, hoping to find an exit.

[JonnyGulliver]

"Nuthin... Nuthin..." he mutters to himself as he fails his interpretation. He then randomly bursts into song, a catchy gobboly tune that is only interupted by the growling and hissing from up stairs. He turns just in time to see fur and goo waft/sputter down the hole.

"Bad thing... be down here... Oh noes!!!" he somehow sings in rhytym to his made up beats, before he merrily Soilir-hops to Door #1 (rightmost) and gives it a good yank.

[sammichweasel]

Still a bit upset about the exploding squirrel, Garr sticks his nose in the dirt for a good sniff.

 

Dice Roll:

1d20+8

(5)+8

Total = 13

[Still_Pond]

Guiness continues to watch those who haven't shimmied up the stairs investigate the alter. He keeps is cursed eyes on the look-out for any more apparitions. He really has little he can do to help as he can't read the runes and he can't go upstairs, so until the others are done here he simply waits, resting under his soft cloak in the shadows.

[Fragmaster01]

Tink: You dramatically yank on the door, and watch as it falls over onto the ground with a mighty *crash*. Inside is a very small room(almost like a closet), complete with a wooden cot, small box, and a dessicated cat skeleton. The room seems otherwise empty.

Garr: It smells like trees and dust up here, in addition to squirrel remains.

Guiness: The cloak is indeed comfy. Like a blanket of sorts. Now it just needs a soft bed to go with it.

[JonnyGulliver]

The singing stops suddenly as Tink realises the scene before him. Then slowly, but sure, he begins to wimper, sniffle, then ful out cry again. Tears running down his ugly face. "Kk-K-kITTY DEAD...!" WAAAHH...!"

(OOC- How could you, FragMaster? He's just a child!)

[JonnyGulliver]

The singing stops suddenly as Tink realises the scene before him. Then slowly, but sure, he begins to wimper, sniffle, then ful out cry again. Tears running down his ugly face. "Kk-K-kITTY DEAD...!" WAAAHH...!"

(OOC- How could you, FragMaster? He's just a child!)

[JonnyGulliver]

Having enjoyed a good cry, Tinkerer simply bunbles the kitten corpse within a pillow case, and stuffs it with the rest of his effects. He then proceeds to scalp the room.

Search

Dice Roll:

1d20

10

[Frogman]

Right. Garr? Woud you be a dear and follow me please? I don't think you're going to find any more prey here, Soilir whistles as she makes her way back down the stairs.

There was nothing of value up there...well...an exploding squirrel but nothing else. Have you found anything? A map? Any indication as to how to leave this irritating place? Soilir calls as she approaches each of her fellow curse victims in turn.

[Still_Pond]

The cloak was warm and nobody was stepping on him. It wasn't a warm tree, but his little nook was comfortable enough. It was good to just sit back wait for someone to figure out what to do next. Wait for someone else to find the door out, or trigger the trap, either way, better them than him. Guiness lounged along the wall, as only a ormu can, and waited.

Doors were opened, people talked, someone even cried; all of it was there disturbing his rest. He found comfort in the fact that at least they were working on the problem. Soilir's voice had a leadership ring, a voice that could bring order from chaos. It was a voice that made one want to give it a pleasing response. Suddenly Guiness felt that he should probably make a little effort to help, so long as it didn't involve anything overly dangerous.

"Thisss appearsss to be the druid room. Unlessss any of you are druidsss, I sssuggessst we explore one of the other two doorsss back there." He gestures with the tip of his long tail toward the room they came from, the one with the now broken wolf-meat dispenser. He continues to rest along the wall, having no interest in taking a leadership role. His black tail returns to a resting position along the base of the wall and undulates slowly.

[sammichweasel]

Garr follows at the whistle, barely understanding why.

At the mention that no one can read the symbols, and knowing that smart people can translate if they have a sample, Garr decides to check his magnificent cookbook for and recipes written in a similar script. He can't really read any of them, at least not well, but he figures he can at least find something that looks the same.

Potential bonus - a Druish recipe! He doesn't know what a Druid is, but they probably have a new approach he hasn't tried yet.