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Message: <blockquote data-quote="arwink" data-source="post: 546455" data-attributes="member: 2292">Friday, August 18th, 518 AF Taranos shudders awake, gasping for breath.  His body's last instinct is to dodge a blast of electricity, and he thrashes about on the alter of St Cuthberts temple, rolling to avoid the blast.  He lands in a crouch, hand grasping at the space where his sword once rested, before he realises he's alive.  His wide eyes take in the surroundings.  Insence.  Grey stone.  The iron Cross symbol of St Cuthbert's church."How was it?"Taranos spins, and sees Warwind standing in the shadows behind the alter.  The elf's features are ragged, as though he's been through great turmoil.  Taranos understands the feeling.  He wheezes slightly as his breathing returns to normal, feels his stomach churcning."Ain't doing it again," Taranos grunts.  "Next time I die, leave me for Heironous.  It ain't worth this."Warwind nods.  His experience with returning from death was none to pleasant, but Taranos looks visibly disturbed by the prospect.  Warwind walks forward with a peice of cloth and sponges a small river of blood running from Taranos nose."Nosebleed," he offers by way of explanation.  Taranos closes his eyes for a few moments, not answering.Cannoness Y'dey is standing nearby, the ashes of two recently used scrolls scattered on the floor around her feat.  She barely looks better than the two vetran's she's returned to life.  There's a faint sheen of sweat is visible on her face, and it's obvious that the effort required has taken it's toll on her."Calmer," she calls.  The younger priest is instantly by her side.  "Take these two to find their friends."Warwind and Taranos break into grim smiles at the command.  At least Durhon and Yip seem to have made it back alive.  With one last look at the grim iron cross over the alter, they bow slightly to the Cannoness and follow the ocolyt into Hommlet's streets.It takes little time to track down Durhon.  Calmer leads the two newly-raised adventurers to the Welcome Wench, and the dwarf if snoring blissfully in a pool of mud by the front door.  "Figures," Warwind comments.  He nods to Calmer, dismissing him, before joining Taranos in the search for a safe method of waking their companion.  "Do you think it's safe to poke him?" Warwind asks."Nope," Taranos answers.  He points at Durhon's great-axe, clutched to his chest while he sleeps.  "Remember when Argul woke him in the midst of a nightmare outside Calthea?"Warwind thinks for a moment, then mutters a short prayer for the dead."Perhaps cold water?" Warwind ventures.  "If nothing else, he could use a bath."This gives Taranos an idea.  There is a brief, whispered discussion while he outlines the plan, then a quick retreat to the tavern entrance while Warwind implements it.  Warwind casts a quick cantrip, summoning the scent of soap-suds directly beneath Durhon's nose.Durhon is on his feat instantly, axe waving arove his head within seconds of the spells completion."Anyone comming near me with soap looses a hand," he snarls.  A glob of still wet mud dislodges itself from his beard and lands with an audiable splat between his feat.  The axe freezes in mid-twirl as he looks down at it, abashed but still guarded."Quite," Warwind, sniffing the fragrant air around the dwarf and grinning to himself.  "You know, I think we've found his weakness.  Next time he's stubborn about going somewhere, we just follow along behind him with a cake of soap.  Best put that on the shopping list."Durhon growls, his nostrils flaring.  Taranos can see trouble brewing"Where's Yip?" He asks."What?" Durhon's anger is diffused, replaced with a sudden realisation of where he is.  The midst of the street, muddy, with the aftereffects of the evenings celibration catching up with him.  He feels a sudden bout of nasuea and leans onto the axe-haft to keep upright.  "Inside," he grunts.  "Hung 'im up for safekeeping before they threw me out."Then he collapses on the ground, feeling the first signs of a headache.Taranos leaves Warwind to watch the dwarf, then heads into the Welcome Wench.  His puzzlement at Durhon's use of the phrase "hung up for safe-keepeing" is immediately cleared up when he finds the kobold hanging from a cloak-peg by the taverns door, his scaly feet some two and a half feet from the floor.  Yip seems unphased by this, sleeping soundly with his muzzle flaring with breif, yapping snores."Ahem." Taranos's loud exclamation wakes the kobold, and even Taranos has to admit that he's impressed by the monks ability to snap from deep sleep to alert.  Tiny paws fly into a defensive position, and the kobolds feet scramble for purchase."What happen?" Yip asks.  "I think, from the looks of things, you went drinking with Durhon," Taranos explains.  Nothing further seems necessary.  Yip takes quick stock of his situation, years of training in the arts of hiding pain almost keeping the effects of his hangover from appearing on his features.   Using his tail as leverage, he pushes himself off the cloak-peg and performs a neat sommersault on landing.  It doesn't prove to be the best idea."You...alive?" he asks, after he pulls his head out of a nearby bucket."It would appear so.""Yip glad.  Not good when one of clan dies."Taranos reply is cut short by Warwinds angry yell from outside."You gave them what..."</blockquote>

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