TURTLEDOME!: Battle Bone (DM: KenHood, Judge: Lord S.)

[covaithe]

[sblock=OOG Reklaw and KenHood]

I noticed one thing on your character sheet: L4E permits you to build a character with 25 ability points. You have only spent 23. That means you have 2 points remaining--of which to take advantage.

I went to check on this, 'cause that seems like a bad thing to have let slide through the character review process. Turns out that the ability scores are right, it's just that one of the 10s should cost 2, not 0. So you really have spent 25 points. Which makes me feel better, 'cause one of the approvals is from me.

[/sblock]

 

[Atanatotatos]

Hadarai lets go of the rat and starts checking his own wounds. He bandages here and there, massages, and stretches for a couple of minutes, then he gets back to business. He turns wit a slightly irritated glance:
There's this annoying mosquito buzzing in my ear... Officer, would you please have that old crook be quiet? Sir Wordswill, here, will explain the situation to you.

ooc:Hadarai sends 4 surges to get back at full hp.

 

[Reklaw]

Drivan looks towards the sergeant, "Sir, if I may... It seems that Sir Swillwort here was under a psychic attack of sorts from some remnant of his past. Everything is under control here now though. If you could reassure the concerned citizens that would be a great help to us!"

He turns towards Swillwort, then turns back towards the sergeant for a second, "Who is your superior? I'd like to send my thanks for a job well done..."

Turning back towards Swillwort he bends quickly to pick up the papers that fell to the ground. "Excuse me sir, it seems that these may have fallen... out of your ear?"

[sblock=Action]Diplomacy roll for Guard... 20[/sblock]
[sblock=OOG]Thanks Covaithe, I remember something about that in the original character review too[/sblock]

 

[Lord Sessadore]

[sblock=OOC]

He bandages here and there, massages, and stretches for a couple of minutes ...

Bad Hadarai, bad! Never massage wounds! Never never!

... My fiancee is a nurse, and this is what she tells me ... [/sblock]

 

[fireinthedust]

[sblock=art update]harken, good sirs and madams, to the tale I tell to thee, a tale of horror, of suspense, of a moron wading through an endless labyrinth of technological confusery... so stupid Kinkos put the pictures on an adobe file. I have no idea how these computerated gizmo-gadgets work, and deviant art is ignoring my attempts to fix it up. Do I want jpeg? I dunno. Almost there, all. Not much to look at, but it was my first drawing in years. Don't worry, it's not as bad as the stuff I've been doing recently.[/sblock]

 

[KenHood]

Finnian turns back to the sergeant and tries to reassure him that all is well.

Diplomacy Check (1d20+3=7)

"That's it," says the sergeant, "You folks need to put down your weapons and come with me."

There's this annoying mosquito buzzing in my ear... Officer, would you please have that old crook be quiet?

The sergeant frowns. "Dr. Gnash is a hero around these parts. You'd best show some respect, elf."

Sir Wordswill, here, will explain the situation to you.

"Hah! You don't even know his name! On your feet!" he says, drawing his ceremonial baton (which has many unceremonial bloodstains on it), "We're going to the station house."

Drivan looks towards the sergeant, "Sir, if I may... It seems that Sir Swillwort here was under a psychic attack of sorts from some remnant of his past. Everything is under control here now though. If you could reassure the concerned citizens that would be a great help to us!"

The sergeant nods and puts away his baton. "Ah! A sensible fellow. I appreciate your words, but I still think we need to..."

"That should be unnecessary, sergeant," says Swillwort.

The sergeant and the officers gasp in surprise.

"These adventurers have saved me from the unfortunate results of one of my experiments."

"Why you talkin' to them orcs? You should be stabbin'. Stabbin'!" says the senile archer, dropping his arrow after attempting to pick it up by the blades.

Two officers head him off. "It's okay, Dr. Gnash. We can handle it from here."

"I like cheese!"

"Yessir," one officer says in a resigned voice, "We know. We know."

They escort him home.

[sblock=Dr. Gnash?]THE Dr. Gnash?!

You've heard of him.

He's a legendary hero/scholar with a PhD in Applied Mayhem and Practical Slaughter. His work on theoretical violence is known world-wide. His thesis, "Myriad Ways of Killing Things with Pointy Objects", is required reading in military academies everywhere.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen![/sblock]


Annie awakens, "Ooooh! Mr. Swillwort! You're well! You're well!" She gives him a sloppy, slobbery hug.

He turns towards Swillwort, then turns back towards the sergeant for a second, "Who is your superior? I'd like to send my thanks for a job well done..."

"It seems to be you who deserve the thanks, sir," says the sergeant, "I've known Mr. Swillwort since I was knee-high, and it was quite a blow to the neighborhood when he took ill. I offer you all my hand in gratitude."

Turning back towards Swillwort he bends quickly to pick up the papers that fell to the ground. "Excuse me sir, it seems that these may have fallen... out of your ear?"

Swillwort feebly waves a hand, in the midst of fending off Annie. "Keep them."

 

[mohalloran]

Once Vanuea emerges from the ear with the unfolded Memory Rat, she holds him up for Stillwort to view. "Vaunea bring gift. Rat in ear. Make home. Now, unconscious. How rat get there?"

Waiting for an answer, Vaunea cleans a few of the scuff marks off of her shield and takes a seat on the floor, waiting for the commotion to die down.

[sblock=KenHood]I will use 0 healing surges to get back to full hit points. You know, it isn't my fault that everything that you hit me with was stuff that didn't do damage. And you also focused most of the attacks on Hadarai...so I guess I just didn't do MY job the right way this time. There is always next battle however.[/sblock]

 

[Atanatotatos]

[sblock=ooc]lol! As always, full of nice touches, Ken![/sblock]

Hadarai keeps himself from reacting badly to the officer's remarks. It had not been a pleasant day. But things seem to be fixing on their own.
Upon hearing the old man's name, the eladrin looks at him with a new look. He had studied Gnash's textbook in his younger years, back at the military academy. Interesting, if a bit outdated. Sic transit gloria mundi. he thinks, with a cynical glance, ultimately unconcerned.

He turns at Swillwort and with a quick bow he apologizes: I hope you will forgive me for missing your correct name, sir. We had five turbulent minutes. It seems to me you are feeling better now. He points at the half-wasted, folded rats: Would you maybe be interested in re-acquiring, so to speak, your torturers?

 

[KenHood]

Once Vanuea emerges from the ear with the unfolded Memory Rat, she holds him up for Stillwort to view. "Vaunea bring gift. Rat in ear. Make home. Now, unconscious. How rat get there?"

One of the youngest officers snickers when Vaunea speaks and elbows another young officer beside him. He points at Vaunea and mouths something. The other officer stifles a laugh.

"There now, Annie! Decorum!" says Swillwort, fending off his servant.

Annie weeps from joy. With a loud honk, she blows her nose into her apron.

"The tale is convoluted and lengthy," says Swillwort, "Suffice to say that I engaged in an experiment to create a quasi-sentient spellbook that provided a direct telepathic link with its owner, permitting the instantaneous transfer of arcane information and skillsets over any distance. An unfortunate confluence of astrological and extraplanar phenomena resulted in the spontaneous generation of a demi-universe within the confines of my skull. Within this informational singularity, life evolved from the unconscious archetypal representations of my self-awareness. To whit, these rats you seem to have captured. It need not be said, I shall be more circumspect in my researches in the future--focusing on the theoretical, as opposed to practical, at least as it regards vorpal-edge arcanology."

He turns at Swillwort and with a quick bow he apologizes: I hope you will forgive me for missing your correct name, sir. We had five turbulent minutes. It seems to me you are feeling better now.

"Indeed! And have you to thank for it! And I hope you will forgive me for being a poor host. Perhaps we should rejoin in my den, continuing our discussion over aperitifs and hors de ouvres?"

He points at the half-wasted, folded rats: Would you maybe be interested in re-acquiring, so to speak, your torturers?

"Dear me! No. Horrid beasts, those. I suggest you burn them before they regain awareness, such creatures can only cause mischief, if not outright harm."

 

[fireinthedust]

Emral watches the old man, the guards, everyone... then gets distracted and grabs the note int he boot that had hit him when they were inside the mage's skull. He unfolds the crumpled paper and begins to read it.