Urn Your Pay (Rae judging)

[Halford]

"Poor little bugger." Says Erf, "Still he'll find a home that is not magical readily enough. If'in ye've still got that rope ter-raen I says we loop it around the top from a distance and wind the rope up until it tightens - then we can just drag the poor little bugger outside and let him go by unwinding the rope again. What d'ya think?"


The forest gnome pantomines throwing the rope over the boots. He then looks thoughtful,

"Your Si...ster Ter-raen? She like yellow? Or magic? Or your size?"

OOC: Yep, getting rid of all that ugly black!

 

[Trouvere]

"If ye can dae that, that'd be best," says Gildrim, choosing to ignore discussion of Ter-raen's sister. " Or Ah coud use mah whip fur somethin'. Or Ah coud empty oot mah pack and drop it ower th' top. Or Ah coud use ane ay Grendath's tricks tae mak the boots cauld as a winter's day - well, unless the magic's tae keep yer feet snug, Ah suppose - sae th' snakie gaes tae sleep."

 

[covaithe]

ooc: So what are you actually doing? Several plans proposed; somebody pick one.

 

[serow]

Ter-raen ponders about the boots and the memories it brought out. So he handles it the way he handled it before: "Put boots in bag. We move. Come." Ter-raen starts looking for another pathway to explore. "We come to get urn."

 

[Halford]

"Right you are. Go ahead Gildrim!" Erf says, "What do we do with the bag just up end it outside?"

 

[Trouvere]

Gildrim, unloading his pack, pauses. "Eh? Weel.... That disnae soond sae safe."

"Mebbe if Ah..." He chants again as he did yesterday. Pack tucked under his arm, he edges just inside the room, stopping ten feet away from the boots. And then he does nothing, it seems, except now and then wave a hand.[sblock=OOC]Cast prestidigitation, 2 orisons remaining. Chill the boots down to not-quite-0°C slowly, in half a dozen increments 30 seconds apart. Exactly like boiling a frog in a pot, except chilling a "snake" in a boot.[/sblock]

 

[covaithe]

The boots get cold. You can see condensation beginning to form on them, as they react with the warm, humid swamp air. Gildrim does not hear the hissing sound again.

 

[Trouvere]

After a few minutes, Gildrim says "Ah think he's gane tae sleep! Likely thinks winter's come early." He readies the backpack, creeps forward, risks a peek down each boot, and tries to pop the pack over them.

 

[covaithe]

Peeking into the left boot, Gildrim sees that it is occupied by a sleeping lizard about two feet long, with a colorful neck ruff that flutters slightly as it breathes. It does not react as Gildrim packs it away, still inside the boots.

 

[Trouvere]

"Unco' bonnie wee fellae," says Gildrim, tiptoeing off with the pack. "Ye'll want tae tak a leuk at him whan we let him gae, Erf. Come oan, let's tak him ootside, shake him oot ay his boot, an' leave him tae warm up."

OOC: that's the plan.