Citadel of the Iron Crown - Burglars in Mirkwood

[Binder Fred]

The Stoor Hobbit chuckles and, if not for the fact his hands were securely tied, Aerec and Baran get the distinct feeling he'd probably rub his hands together with glee at this point. "Ooooh. Lots of things. Bits and bobs from the woodses. Hobbitses are quick, hobbitses are quiet. We of the Glad are softer with our footsysteps than those silly Elveses, yes, yes. We takes from them, and from *her*. Heheha, she thinks she can keep all her tricksy things for herself, but we takes them and gives them to the master." The grin fails suddenly and the Stoor's eyes flicker from side to side. "No. No. Mustn't mention the master" he fixes Baran with a stare, though the eyes are boring straight through him, seeing something else, "the smelly Dwarf forgets I said it. The master wouldn't be happy. Not happy one bit. Not now..."

What is it he sees do you figure? Whatever it is the dark pools of his eyes are getting darker still; thinking of consequences, thinking of pains past and future : not good.
Baran pokes him in the chest, an attention-getter: "Now, hobbit? *Now* five robbery-robbers have come and darkened our door. Now *we're* not too damp 'happy' about it. *Now* we've got three *other* troublemakers running around out there - but they won't try to rescue you, will they? That's good at least. Last of the pack, I would think."
A haughty look blinks away the forever stare, "Not so! I'm in charge. My band, they does as I tells them to do, yes they does. [etc]

<OOC: Does Baran have a guess or two as to who the mentionned *her* might be, as relate to present woodses, elveses and as haver of well-defended tricksy things?

"Many wants it" the Stoor seems to be in a bit of a daze. Baran has shifted away so the eyes aren't fixed unseeingly upon him, the Stoor's gaze didn't go with him and is now fixed on the wall. "It's precious, to *him*. To give it to him would have been..." the eyes widen, "oooh, such a special treat, like as if it was my Birthday. Yes, yes. But not now. Not now. Now is not my Birthday. Now is my Deathday!" Unaccountably, the Hobbit suddenly bursts into tears, wailing, "nooooo! So sorry master! So sorry! Pleeease don't let him hurts me! Pleeease don't let him burn or squash me! Oooooh!" [/COLOR] (Reliability: 90% - he's either become a *very* good actor, which would contradict his previous efforts, or he's no longer lying.

Bummer. A long, put-upon sigh and then the hobbit is squarely lifted off his chair, and hugged.

<OOC: brace for kicks and/or bites in sensitive spots, please. Don't know exactly what the appropriate roll would be (Concentration?) but Baran is not inclined to let go at this time or show signs of pain before the other calms down.

Making it:
"Not me that's injured," brushes off the one in question without breaking the clasp with his... dinner companion. "His patient is the girl, three paces left, six frontwise."
Who was it that sent for *him*? The Van boy, probably.

<Response Thallion, Gellion, any?>

Binder fred, the son I never had?

 

[Dlsharrock]

OOC
"You do not appear to be the dwarf I seek" was my favourite moment of the game. But I think we have a new winner

IC
Like a boned fish, the Stoor falls limp in the Dwarf's bear hug. He sniffles, tears and snob moistening Baran's shoulder.

When Baran replaces the Hobbit, and chair, there's a new expression in place. Utter surprise, eyes wide as saucers, mouth slack, skin white as new grown wool.

OOC
Basic Knowledge (INT mod) roll for the 'Her' reference.

IC Other room

Gellion returns, looking sheepish. "Uh..." he waggles an uninformative hand toward the door from which he just emerged. To Thalion: "please- he says, he isn't injured. He says, the patient is.." a glance at the female Stoor who looks increasingly nervous, then a lingering examination of the floor between doorway and Hobbit, counting under his breath. Finally he says, "she's over there" and points.

 

[Redclaw]

Aerec stands, confused and feeling out of place. What do I know of hobbits and elves? he asks himself. Horses, swords, those I know. All of this is well beyond me.

He finds himself stepping forward as Baran lifts the small creature up, unconsciously moving to prevent anything unfortunate, but he eases back to his position against the wall when he sees there is no menace in it. I'd better ride it out, and look like I know what I'm doing, he decides.

 

[Shayuri]

Aranel gives Gellion an inscrutable look, then shrugs and says to Thalion, "Her name is Mythia. She seems to be acting under the orders of someone she calls 'Black Grendel,' though I suspect not of her free will. There is a strange mark on her forehead, and...although it was only there for a moment, I saw something in her eyes that was not -her-."

 

[Dlsharrock]

"She was run over by a horse," Gellion nods.

 

[renau1g]

Ulfang looks at Aranel with a confused expression on his face

"M'lady just who or what is a Black Grendel? " the barbarian asks.

 

[Fenris]

Thalllion stares at Gellion and Aranel for a moment.

"I can look at the perrianath, but I was not summoned her to heal as I often am. I am here for the dwarf who resides here. Gellion, please tell him that I know that he isn't injured, yet, but that I have come to seek him regardless of his present health. Go!" says Thallion, growing impatient with the confusion of the room and the seeming lack of anyone who can tell him if this dwarf was here.

In the meantime, he heads over to Mythia to examine her.

 

[Dlsharrock]

Gellion says nothing, but hurries away.

The female Stoor, Mythia, starts to cry, tears trickling down her ashen cheeks. As the Elf approaches her eyes widen and she stiffens visibly.

There is a cut on her forehead, Thalion sees. A scratch upon the surface of her temple where crusted blood has closed the wound. In the centre of her forehead is some kind of black symbol. It looks like somebody has carved the symbol into her flesh, and the resulting wound is infected and scabrous.

OOC
Heal roll, (DC 5) please Fenris for a full appraisal, not the healing itself.

In the Bedroom

A tentative rap on the door, which opens before Baran or Aerec can respond.

"It's..." Gellion again. He looks whiter than the Stoor Hobbit, "my apologies foredwarf Baran. The healer, the Elf Thalion... he is quite insistent. He wishes to see you regardless that you are in good health. It seems rather urgent."

 

[Dlsharrock]

[SBLOCK=OOC Fenris]Where is Kalo currently situated?[/SBLOCK]

 

[Binder Fred]

OOC
Basic Knowledge (INT mod) roll for the 'Her' reference.

[SBLOCK=INT roll]
A lovely 4
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1616169/[/SBLOCK]

When Baran replaces the Hobbit, there's a new expression in place. Utter surprise, eyes wide as saucers, mouth slack, skin white as new grown wool.

Kinder to have slugged him, probably.

"You can't go back there," he points out, gruffly scratching at belly's sprawled back (and therefore not needing to look the other quite in the eye just then).

<OOC: Put another way : what's His hold on you?

A tentative rap on the door, which opens before Baran or Aerec can respond.

"It's..." Gellion again. He looks whiter than the Stoor Hobbit, "my apologies foredwarf Baran. The healer, the Elf Thalion... he is quite insistent. He wishes to see you regardless that you are in good health. It seems rather urgent."

Baran swivels on his stool, facing the door in full and raising his voice : "Well then come on in, oh ye master of herbs. This isn't the leafy courts... and I'm no king." Despite all that his right hand is (unconsciously?) tapping a forceful rhythm on his woolen thighs : what is it *now*, pray tell?

<Response Thalion?>

Binder Fred, tact? we don't need no stinking 'tact'!