Urn Your Pay (Rae judging)

[serow]

Ter-raen sits quietly by the now dead fire, looking at the now-dead fire, wondering about the events of the past few days. He holds on to a little brush of leaves that Apikotoa gave him, not sure why, but it feels comfortable to hold it.

The urn has proved to be nothing but near impossible to find thus far, even if they haven't exactly covered the entire house yet. Perhaps it was all a fake, a story, bait to lure unsuspecting wanderers to get eaten by the house of ill omen? Ter-raen is not very sure. But two things he is sure of: he won't back down just yet; and somehow, little bit by bit, he's starting to get the hang of what his companions are doing with all those magical gibberish.

His own meditation cum reflection manages to drown out the rest of the world for a period of time, until the dwarf's words finally manage to register. "Is he okay," he asks, looking at Karm.

[sblock=ooc]Druid spells prepared, in the theme of light and unintrusive, the simple stuff that can be credited to luck for now:
0 - Guidance, Guidance, Resistance
1 - Calm Animals, Jump
[/sblock]

 

[Trouvere]

"Eh? eh? Och, he will be. Ah'm feelin' a wee bit sair mysel."

Karm casts a healing spell on himself, and immediately looks as good as new. Gildrim waves him off when he moves to heal the dwarf. "Save yer spells for somethin' else. Let's see whit this wand can dae."

OOC: Karm's CLW 1d8+1=9; wand charges on Gildrim 5, 5. Karm now 10/10, Gildrim 22/24. Does Ter-raen want some healing?[sblock=OOC]Unfortunately,

A druid who wears prohibited armor or carries a prohibited shield is unable to cast druid spells or use any of her supernatural or spell-like class abilities while doing so and for 24 hours thereafter.

[/sblock]

 

[serow]

[sblock=ooc]Nah, save the wand charges. And thanks for the reminder about the druid spell limitation, just ignore that part then.[/sblock]

 

[Trouvere]

"Th' mornin's wearin' oan," Gildrim says. "Time tae heid back in. Oor thanks for yer patience an' understandin', Apikotoa. Wi' luck this will be oor lest visit, an' we can be oan oor way. Mebbe we'll find ye a wee praisent hidden awa' doon thaur."

 

[serow]

Ter-araen looks at the house of ill omen, a long and slow gaze. One more time, we go, and we get, he tells himself inside of his head. Placing his left hand on his sheathed scimitar, he tightens the grip for a moment, before releasing it again. "Ter-raen good to go," he tells the rest.

 

[covaithe]

The night's dampness has enhanced the smell of decay in the house, and clouds of spores dance with sickly grace in the flickering blue candlelight. Floorboards have swollen, and creak loudly as your unaccustomed weight shifts them. But no other movements in the house can be heard.

Beneath the stairs, the air seems dryer, more preserved from the elements. The doors all remain closed, but the bodies of the darkmantles are gone.

[sblock=status]
Karm 10/10
Kuma 13/13
Ter-raen 28/33
Gildrim 22/24

Wand: 28 charges left
[/sblock]

 

[Trouvere]

"Ach, noo. Ah dinnae think thaes jeely-like flaffers wad melt awa' whan deid, dae ye? Sae thaur's somethin' doon haur that's big eneuch tae eat thaim. Hou are we goin' tae-"

"Grendath's eyes, Ter-raen! Ye've still gotten th' wee gresslowper men in yer pack! Lucky for thaim we didnae lat thaim lie aboot th' hoose oot cold, or thay'd be etten tay. Mebbe we shoud pit that proposeetion tae thaim. Thay micht see th' guid sense ay lettin' us tidy up thair dwallinplace."

 

[serow]

Ter-raen looks back at his dwarf companion, who just fired off a string of gibberish at him. He lowers his eyes for a moment to cover his lack of comprehension. Thoughts fire as fast as a trained archer's arrows in his head. Dwarf want my pack, something about a pit as well. Use bag to get across pit? Maybe? Dwarf have magic, can try! Nodding at the suggestion, Ter-raen unslings his bag and opens it, opening his companion will take the cuie and take whatever manner of gear he seemed to want. "We try," he says encouragingly.

 

[Trouvere]

Gildrim squints and grits his teeth and thrusts a hand into the pack to yank out a grig.

 

[covaithe]

Gildrim's hand goes into the pack... and right back out the bottom! Turning it over, you see that a small hole has been... chewed, apparently. There are no grigs left inside.

[sblock=ooc]For some reason, I thought you guys had sent the grigs with Erf. Did I dream that? Anyway, they're not in the pack.[/sblock]