Remnants of Cyre <Team Two>

[Grimfist]

Meantooth follows behind in the wake of strewn chairs and angry patrons that Ja'khaar leaves behind him and watches intently as the blood is washed away from the bite wound.

Staring silently at the grisly injury, Yezt pours over his extensive knowledge of beasts in an attempt to identify a likely culprit.

<OOC>Knowledge: Nature check at +4 (1d20+4)[20]</OOC>

[Kyeudo]

Meantooth

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Looking at the ragged injury, you decide that it is definately a bite wound, but not from any animal you've seen before. It almost looks to be sized like something a human or an elf could inflict, but the wound is too deep for the jaws of any humanoid you know of.

[nekosama]

Morris

Once at the door Morris will peek out to make sure nobody is watching the door.

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Spot [roll]1d20+5[/roll]

If he sees nothing he will leave moving quietly and trying to hide in a shadow at the end of his move.

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Move silently [roll]1d20+6[/roll]
Hide [roll]1d20+6[/roll]

[Kyeudo]

Morris

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OOC: Looks like you tried to edit in dice rolls. Doesn't work. Luckily, I have real dice, and will just roll them for you.
Spot: 15+7
Move Silently: 11+6
Hide: 16+6

Morris only sees several drunken party goers stumbling along the street in the light cast by the street lamps. They don't seem to notice as you slip out into the night.

[Bitzeralisis]

Sripor

Sripor had not realized that the man was hurt until the goblin had shouted. He blinks, and slowly makes his way over to the man. He looks at the wound,not uttering a single word. Then he silently¹ walks outside to see if there's anything there.

¹Not D&D literal.

[Miraqariftsky]

[goblin]"Ain't seen nothin' but horses since we got here. Woulda remembered somethin' with big teeth."[/goblin] Itragn replies before going back to the rack of ribs.

"Twice tak", he says simply before, retrieving his lance and clucking at Fang to get her away from the food before mounting up. Blood and oils from the roast rib-rack drip from the wolf's neck-fur and she snarls at her master, unwilling to part from the feast though the bulge of her belly tells Ja'khaa that the bitch is already more than full.

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(1d20+9)[29] Handle Animal check Edit: Methinks 'tis safe to assume that this is a pass?

After a few nose-pats and ear-slaps, sha calms down and Ja'khaa leaps onto her back. Briefly, he adjusts his leathern rider's cap and then gives his mount a couple of nudges with his knees, guiding her to the stable doors. [Goblin]"Flame shine on ye, kinsman"[/Goblin], he says before turning the corner

THOK!!

Suddenly, something small and metallic whirs through the stale air within the stable and hits the visor of Ja'khaa's helm. As it falls off, he instinctively bites down on it and winces when his teeth indeed strike metal.

The lancer spits it into his palm and his brow furrows in bemusement when he sees a slightly dented flask in his hand. He glances back at Itragn and the other simply says, [Goblin] "Fer Dur, me sister, yer wife. Greet her fer me an' tell 'er life ain't all Cyre and Flame and glory..."

Ja'khaa's crimson eyes dilate in shock and his nostrils flare in shame. The hand holding his lance in a white-knuckled sorrow trembles as he replies without looking back, [Goblin] "She died a week ago in a Valenar raid. I'm sorry." [/Goblin]

As he walks Fang around the corner of the stable's doors, he hears the agitated whinnying of the horses, the repeated thumps of frustrated fists against stubborn walls and the anguished cries of a brother bereaved. But then, beyond the ties of blood, he is a soldier of Cyre and will do whatever it takes to protect the homeland. Slowly, silently, he goes back to the tavern to recruit some stout fools with whom to hunt either a fiend or a madman...

[Kyeudo]

Sripor finds the street mostly deserted. The houses and shops that line the road are mostly dark, with a few bright windows shinging out of the blackness. The street lamps make pools of light between which a few people still wander, probably heading towards one party or another.

Ja'khaa gets the reluctant Fang up with relative ease.

Ja'khaa

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First, is Fang male or female. You refer to the wolf as him, but then call it a bitch. Second, what tricks does Fang know?

[Miraqariftsky]

Ja'khaa makes his way back to the still-ajar doors of the tavern, the woud of his heart torn afresh with the gift for his dead wife. Twisting the cap off slowly, he takes a single swig... the the world spins.

Pointing at the still-unconscious patient, he shouts to the crowd in the tongue of Galifar, "Zat vellow vas vikkeg vy heidurr a badban or some viendigg avobi-abominatiogg! I go ta hudd it down. Who here is fool or brave hedubb ta h'aid he, h'O doble volk h'ob Cyre?"

[Kyeudo]

Ja'khaa

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Make a Listen check please.

[Miraqariftsky]

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OOC: Ja'khaa's Listen check (1d20+2)[11]
Fang's Listen check: (1d20+3)[18]

[Kyeudo]

Ja'khaa

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You don't hear anything out of the ordinary. Most of the inns patrons have gone back to their drinks or card game, trying hard to ignore the wounded man laid out on the table.

Make a Spot check please.

[nekosama]

Morris

Morris will watch the drunks to see if any of them look like they have blood or other signs of a recent fight on them. If none do he will move on to the other side of the building.

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Spot (1d20+5)[15]

[Grimfist]

Meantooth draws his tarnished morningstar and dons his prized buckler then pushes his way to the front of the inn where he can catch Jak'haar's attention. [Goblin]"I was about to ask the same question, unworthy as most of these drunkards seem to journey with me. A fellow goblin and his wolf would make fine companions, however."[/Goblin]

Noticing the Sripor hovering about outside the inn, Meantooth calls out to him as well. "Hey, alchemist! You want to help Meantooth and Ja'kharr track down the nasty creature? Maybe we accept your offer if you join us."

[Kyeudo]

Morris can see no signs of blood or a struggle on the passerby, but whether that is due to poor lighting, distance, or lack of any evidence would be impossible to determine.

Anyone near the wounded man, would you please make Spot and Listen checks? I'll wait for most everyone to get a chance to post before continueing.

[Idiotbox90]

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Spot:(1d20+1)[9]
Listen:(1d20+1)[18]

Zin responds to the goblin's shout, "Fortune favors both the foolish and the brave. I'm both. Let me retrieve my things."

The fortune teller gathers his cards and pockets them, before making his way to his room to get his polearm and chain.

[Bitzeralisis]

(( Spot - (1d20+2)[10] Listen - (1d20+2)[16] ))

Sripor

"Maybe, eh?" Sripor had already made his way back into the inn, and walks past the injured man and towards the goblin. He passes several tables, some random people, and ultimately ends up next to the goblin.
"Name?" asks Sripor, extending his arm, no expression on his face. Again, this close, the goblin may get a feeling that the being he is looking at is possibly not be human...

[Miraqariftsky]

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Listen (1d20+2)[7]
Spot (1d20+2)[12] Daaaagnabbit!

Reeling drunkenly from his six tall ales, Ja'khaa lists on his mount's back. Gesturing with his lance at those who had voluteered, he slurs, "Hooooy! Giddover 'ere guddrn quick! If'n ye ain't no coffee got, punch me, by Khyber! Novoggy goesh a-hunting thrunggk"

[nekosama]

Morris

Morris will stay outside searching for another 10-15 minutes then return to the bar to see how the man faired.

[Kyeudo]

Sripor and Zin

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What you here isn't the surprising presence of something, but rather its sudden obvious lack. The man laid out on the table has stopped breathing.

[Bitzeralisis]

Sripor

While waiting for the goblin to tell him his name and shake his hand, Sripor's mind subconsciously processes some information...

[OOC]

> Scanning [right ear input:level 3422:depth 9344s]
> Scan Detects (various alternating pitches)
> Analyze Result [prev]
> Scan Native Knowledgebase [level 396903:sector 5435:type br00&]

etc. etc...

> Concludes (no breathing:injured man:table:entrance:warning)
> Activate [fj83ljg:g03js:g089r]

Wait... people's minds aren't computers...

[/OOC]

Anyhow:

"Huh?" Sripor turns around. Did I think what I just thought? That man... he wasn't breathing when I came in... not good? Definitely. Slowly, he makes his way over to the man, and puts his ear real close to his nose, and watches his chest...
There's no breathing noises. The man's chest isn't rising and falling in its natural air intake pattern. So, I was right.
"This man needs medical attention! He stopped breathing!" shouts Sripor, obviously not knowing what to do, hesitant, sweating, looking for help, any help, there has to be someone who knows something about making people breathe, a cleric maybe? Someone get over here already! Who? When? ...

Death would come swiftly, if not a person is to help.

[Miraqariftsky]

(( [roll0] [roll1] ))

Sripor

"Maybe, eh?" Sripor had already made his way back into the inn, and walks past the injured man and towards the goblin. He passes several tables, some random people, and ultimately ends up next to the goblin.
"Name?" asks Sripor, extending his arm, no expression on his face. Again, this close, the goblin may get a feeling that the being he is looking at is possibly not be human...

"AAGH!" Ja'khaa shouts in complete shock as Sripor seemingly materializes from the depths of the shadows. From sheer confoundment, he vomits violently.

Smiling but pale, he grasps the alchemist's hand and pumps it vigorously. "Thousand thanks for the sobering shock... um, alchemist. I am Ja'khaa of the Blackclaw"

"Huh?" Sripor turns around. Did I think what I just thought? That man... he wasn't breathing when I came in... not good? Definitely. Slowly, he makes his way over to the man, and puts his ear real close to his nose, and watches his chest...
There's no breathing noises. The man's chest isn't rising and falling in its natural air intake pattern. So, I was right.
"This man needs medical attention! He stopped breathing!" shouts Sripor, obviously not knowing what to do, hesitant, sweating, looking for help, any help, there has to be someone who knows something about making people breathe, a cleric maybe? Someone get over here already! Who? When? ...

Death would come swiftly, if not a person is to help.

"Khyber's crap, now what?!" Ja'khaa shouts.

My captain always said that there's nothing wot can't be cured by good strong drink...

Ja'khaa digs his heels into his mount's flanks, spurring into the tavern, leaving his lance leaning against the doorframe to avoid hitting any innocents. Riding swiftly over to the stricken man, he pours some of the bugbear brandy into the patient's open, reeking mouth.

While waiting for the stricken man to react to the liquor, he yells for the barkeep over the din of the crowd. "HO! Dispatch a runner to the nearest temple... either that or get some Jorasco over here! And blight it all, where's that Khybercrapped bucketto water and rag we needed?!" With that, he veritably hurls another golden Galifar onto the bar.

[Kyeudo]

The barkeep, to this point largely unconcerned (knifings happen every now and then in this part of town, most survivable), flings open the door to the kitchen and barks orders to the kitchen boys. The slamming of the back door can be heard in the common room, and one of the kitchen boys scurries out of the kitchen with a bucket of water and some relatively clean rags.

[Grimfist]

Spot and listen checks:

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(1d20-1)[6] For spot.
(1d20-2)[10] For listen.

(( (1d20-1)[6] (1d20-2)[10] ))

Sripor

"Maybe, eh?" Sripor had already made his way back into the inn, and walks past the injured man and towards the goblin. He passes several tables, some random people, and ultimately ends up next to the goblin.
"Name?" asks Sripor, extending his arm, no expression on his face. Again, this close, the goblin may get a feeling that the being he is looking at is possibly not be human...

"You call me Meantooth, strange alchemist." Yezt replies, following the concerned Elan over to the table where the injured man lies.

[Idiotbox90]

Zin returns, wearing a chain shirt and carrying a glaive. It is difficult, but he manages to avoid breaking anything with the large weapon.

When he sees the others surrounding the man on the table, he shakes his head. "Don't bother with him. He's dead."

[Kyeudo]

The kitchen boy, hearing the man is dead, leaves the bucket at the table and scurries back to the kitchen, just in time to miss seeing the man's body twitch.

[Bitzeralisis]

Sripor

Sripor simply pokes the man. So simply, in fact, that it only took two sentences to fully describe his reaction and any emotions that may have gone through him.

[Kyeudo]

The man's arm jerks clumsily in the direction from which Sripor poked him.

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Had to LoL at that last line.

[Miraqariftsky]

"LOOK!" Ja'khaa shouts, gesturing at the quasi-corpse. "The blaggard moved! Fortune teller, are ye certain he wasn't breathing earlier? If he still ain't breathin' we might be a-havi' the work o' some Karrnathi spies on our hands!"

With that, he walks over to the tavern's wall, picks up a lit lantern and holds it near the man for a better look.

[Miraqariftsky]

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(1d20+2)[5] Spot (1d20+2)[13] Listen

[Kyeudo]

The corpse suddenly animates, lurching off the table towards the goblin. Thankfuly, it moves like a drunken man, and falls to the floor instead of being able to grab the goblin. (You try getting off a table without falling when you don't know how to move your legs.)

Everyone roll inititive.

Corpse's Inititive: (1d20-1)[11]