Winchester looks from Cormac to Dusty, scratching the back of his head, with a rare, contemplative expression on his face. His grin turns into more of a dissatisfied grimace as he ponders the odds of whats being proposed. "I don't think movin' out now's the best thing to do, at least if ya wanna leave our clients behind. I'd say if we wanna go, we take 'em with us to the priest. Some holy help could be convenient if the Baron's really all in over the girl. Means we'd have a safer spot to whole up in if things get bad, which it sounds like it will, and staying home for one more night's not gonna make the old man any less dead." He says, cocking his head into the mayors direction. Then, Winchesters signature grin makes a grand return on his face. "Shall we just vote, eh?"
“Not good, this place, for fighting,” Kronk says. “No sight out far, walls flimsy be. This Baron moving around during light hours? Having spies for him, telling him where we go? If not, how knowing we be in temple would he?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
Dusty ponders but remains steadfast that he wouldn't like to spend the night in the rickety house fighting off the barons legions, however, as the rest of the party also cast their vote, he accepts the outcome whichever way it lands.
The looming dragonborn’s serious expression continued to bore into the ones assigning them to this mission. While he could respect the honor of burying a family member, he had been tasked with ensuring the safety of a client. Arms folded over shined plate, Isoldus spoke, voice rumbling through the walls of the mansion. “Our mission is to ensure your safety, softskin. Burying your father presents its difficulties in that matter.” The dragonborn’s golden eyes narrowed.
“I have pledged to keep you alive, and I will make good on that promise. I ensure you to reconsider - burying a loved one is a respectable endeavor, though unwise if you are in as much danger as you seem to believe you are. I suggest we leave town immediately, though in any circumstance, you shall accompany us until you are secure.” Drawing on his military experience, Isoldus barked out several orders to the other members of the party, instructing them of various procedures with keeping someone safe. Surround their employer at all times, keep an eye out for anything - and anyone - suspicious, and - most importantly - never allow them unattended for a moment’s notice.
Hugeo doesn't mind either way, and chooses to abstain. As far as he's concerned, it doesn't really matter. Many have died, many will die. The only way to really protect anyone in this place would be to end the Baron, if it's possible. Otherwise, it doesn't matter where one is moved to within the Waste, and the rails are in no condition to get anyone out of here - he knows.
Cormac nods and shrugs as he sets his hound close to the brother and sister, moving to once more slowly climb up the wall and then to the ceiling, hanging down with his rifle at the ready.
The sun grows lower on the horizon as you carry the coffin throughout the town, moving rather sluggishly due to the deceased Mayor's girth and the rather unusual and difficult to navigate nature of Wastern towns. Several times you have to take an alternate route, because the coffin is simply too large to squeeze through a gap between two houses. Everywhere you go, people hurry inside, doors are slammed, windows shuttered. No one gives you more than one look, pointedly ignoring you after they see the siblings.
Time passes, and after taking one final lift, which you are forced to operate yourselves due to the usual operator conveniently being on his break once he notices your company, you come across the church. It's a pathetic looking thing, resting on top of the great stone hand's middle knuckle. It's partially carved out of wastebone, and partially just twisted wood. It appears very old, and has evidently resisted the assaults of evil for many years, due to the old claw marks and fire scars. A bell tower rises up from the back, and flickering light shines through holes in the sparsely shingled roof.
Irene approaches the door, and raps hard on it. There is an ominous groaning of wood as the fragile building reacts to the knocking, but there is no response.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Dusty follows along letting the bulkier stronger party members carry the heavy load, Although should anyone follow their tracks through the sandy streets It appears that the party has two dragonborn members, As they are walking Dusty blows a slow haunting funeral dirge on the harmonica, nodding to Irene and Marcus respectfully should they catch his eye.
At the door to the dilapidated and yet still standing place of worship Dusty slows and stops with the party, sighing at the lack of answer to the door, fed up with the scared looks and hurried disappearance of people along the way. "I see now why you were both so... Desperate." He remarks to Marcus.
"well if anyone can force the door or pick the lock speak up, if not I suppose we should check for other entrances, or perhaps the old priest is deaf as the dead they surround themselves with!"
Cormac frowns in the way only a craftsman could as he sees the state of the building, especially the door. He steps forward andooks at the door as Irene knocks on it. If it is locked he will knock louder once more. "If ya need me to I can try to pick up the lock. Not sure if ya want me to go breaking into the church."
"I could pick the the lock, one moment." Hugeo steps forward, then crouches in front of the key hole. His index fingers then retract, and lock-picking tools come out of the metal hand instead. He inserts the ends into the lock, then attempts to pick it.
Lock picking check? 18 (I never know what to use on this check, but many rule it as Dex + proficiency so that's what I used).
Hugeo's pick-fingers fiddle about in the lock, and after a moment there is a quiet click and the great door swings open to reveal a ten-foot-wide, twenty-foot-long hall leading to a brightly lit chapel. The hall is unlit and reeks of mildew. Four doors, two on each side of the hall, lead to adjacent chambers. You can see that the chapel is strewn with debris, and you hear a soft voice from within reciting a prayer. Suddenly, the prayer is blotted out by an inhuman scream that rises up from beneath the wooden floor.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
"well I don't rate the welcome party but I'll be honest, I've had worse" Dusty pipes up as he pulls a rapier out from the inside of his ill fitted suit, which has seemingly been tucked half down his trouser leg up until this point.
Kronk will unlimber his iron bar, "Don't know much about walking deaders but, let'em try a taste of me trusty walkin' stick." He grins a bit at his sore attempt at humor. "I kinda gotta a feelin' they might no like cold iron, eh!"
He gently swings the massive bar back and forth, seemingly without effort, in the on-guard position for staff fighting.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
Hugeo places the lock-picking tools in place and they retract, allowing his index finger to reappear. "Simple enough. Now, let's find this priest and bury this man already." He then walks in and passes the hall, into the chapel.
The chapel is in shambles, with overturned and broken pews littering the dusty floor. Dozens of candles mounted in candlesticks and candelabras light every dusty corner in a fervent attempt to rid the chapel of shadows. At the far end of the church sits a claw-scarred altar, behind which kneels a priest in soiled vestments. Next to him hangs a long, thick rope that stretches up into the bell tower. From beneath the chapel floor, you hear a young man’s voice cry out, “Father! I’m starving!” Irene and Marcus keep their distance.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Cormac hears the scream and raises a brow, his hand going towards his rifle before he shakes his head. He keeps it close and looks to the others. "Well looks like we have ta go find out what that was all about..."
"I don't know where you're coming from, but starving isn't so rare for people without money. And, looking at all those candles, I doubt they have any left for that. Either way, let's finish the business with the priest first." Hugeo approaches the priest nonchanantly. "Faith-man, you've got visitors looking to put their father in the ground."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
As people start approaching the priest and asking questions, Dusty moves around the room trying to see if there are any signs of current threat, he sees the claw marks in the altar and the thrown pews and wonders if danger still lurks.
Winchester looks from Cormac to Dusty, scratching the back of his head, with a rare, contemplative expression on his face. His grin turns into more of a dissatisfied grimace as he ponders the odds of whats being proposed. "I don't think movin' out now's the best thing to do, at least if ya wanna leave our clients behind. I'd say if we wanna go, we take 'em with us to the priest. Some holy help could be convenient if the Baron's really all in over the girl. Means we'd have a safer spot to whole up in if things get bad, which it sounds like it will, and staying home for one more night's not gonna make the old man any less dead." He says, cocking his head into the mayors direction. Then, Winchesters signature grin makes a grand return on his face. "Shall we just vote, eh?"
“Not good, this place, for fighting,” Kronk says. “No sight out far, walls flimsy be. This Baron moving around during light hours? Having spies for him, telling him where we go? If not, how knowing we be in temple would he?”
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
(Feel free to vote as a party if that’s what you’d like to do, otherwise I’ll move things forward tomorrow)
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Dusty ponders but remains steadfast that he wouldn't like to spend the night in the rickety house fighting off the barons legions, however, as the rest of the party also cast their vote, he accepts the outcome whichever way it lands.
(Mobile)
The looming dragonborn’s serious expression continued to bore into the ones assigning them to this mission. While he could respect the honor of burying a family member, he had been tasked with ensuring the safety of a client. Arms folded over shined plate, Isoldus spoke, voice rumbling through the walls of the mansion. “Our mission is to ensure your safety, softskin. Burying your father presents its difficulties in that matter.” The dragonborn’s golden eyes narrowed.
“I have pledged to keep you alive, and I will make good on that promise. I ensure you to reconsider - burying a loved one is a respectable endeavor, though unwise if you are in as much danger as you seem to believe you are. I suggest we leave town immediately, though in any circumstance, you shall accompany us until you are secure.” Drawing on his military experience, Isoldus barked out several orders to the other members of the party, instructing them of various procedures with keeping someone safe. Surround their employer at all times, keep an eye out for anything - and anyone - suspicious, and - most importantly - never allow them unattended for a moment’s notice.
Hugeo doesn't mind either way, and chooses to abstain. As far as he's concerned, it doesn't really matter. Many have died, many will die. The only way to really protect anyone in this place would be to end the Baron, if it's possible. Otherwise, it doesn't matter where one is moved to within the Waste, and the rails are in no condition to get anyone out of here - he knows.
Varielky
(So… I’m probably just dumb and didn’t glean it from your responses, but is the part deciding to stay put for the night or head for the church now?)
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Cormac nods and shrugs as he sets his hound close to the brother and sister, moving to once more slowly climb up the wall and then to the ceiling, hanging down with his rifle at the ready.
The sun grows lower on the horizon as you carry the coffin throughout the town, moving rather sluggishly due to the deceased Mayor's girth and the rather unusual and difficult to navigate nature of Wastern towns. Several times you have to take an alternate route, because the coffin is simply too large to squeeze through a gap between two houses. Everywhere you go, people hurry inside, doors are slammed, windows shuttered. No one gives you more than one look, pointedly ignoring you after they see the siblings.
Time passes, and after taking one final lift, which you are forced to operate yourselves due to the usual operator conveniently being on his break once he notices your company, you come across the church. It's a pathetic looking thing, resting on top of the great stone hand's middle knuckle. It's partially carved out of wastebone, and partially just twisted wood. It appears very old, and has evidently resisted the assaults of evil for many years, due to the old claw marks and fire scars. A bell tower rises up from the back, and flickering light shines through holes in the sparsely shingled roof.
Irene approaches the door, and raps hard on it. There is an ominous groaning of wood as the fragile building reacts to the knocking, but there is no response.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Dusty follows along letting the bulkier stronger party members carry the heavy load, Although should anyone follow their tracks through the sandy streets It appears that the party has two dragonborn members, As they are walking Dusty blows a slow haunting funeral dirge on the harmonica, nodding to Irene and Marcus respectfully should they catch his eye.
At the door to the dilapidated and yet still standing place of worship Dusty slows and stops with the party, sighing at the lack of answer to the door, fed up with the scared looks and hurried disappearance of people along the way. "I see now why you were both so... Desperate." He remarks to Marcus.
"well if anyone can force the door or pick the lock speak up, if not I suppose we should check for other entrances, or perhaps the old priest is deaf as the dead they surround themselves with!"
Cormac frowns in the way only a craftsman could as he sees the state of the building, especially the door. He steps forward andooks at the door as Irene knocks on it. If it is locked he will knock louder once more. "If ya need me to I can try to pick up the lock. Not sure if ya want me to go breaking into the church."
"I could pick the the lock, one moment." Hugeo steps forward, then crouches in front of the key hole. His index fingers then retract, and lock-picking tools come out of the metal hand instead. He inserts the ends into the lock, then attempts to pick it.
Lock picking check? 18 (I never know what to use on this check, but many rule it as Dex + proficiency so that's what I used).
Varielky
(dex+prof is good)
Hugeo's pick-fingers fiddle about in the lock, and after a moment there is a quiet click and the great door swings open to reveal a ten-foot-wide, twenty-foot-long hall leading to a brightly lit chapel. The hall is unlit and reeks of mildew. Four doors, two on each side of the hall, lead to adjacent chambers. You can see that the chapel is strewn with debris, and you hear a soft voice from within reciting a prayer. Suddenly, the prayer is blotted out by an inhuman scream that rises up from beneath the wooden floor.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
"well I don't rate the welcome party but I'll be honest, I've had worse" Dusty pipes up as he pulls a rapier out from the inside of his ill fitted suit, which has seemingly been tucked half down his trouser leg up until this point.
Kronk will unlimber his iron bar, "Don't know much about walking deaders but, let'em try a taste of me trusty walkin' stick." He grins a bit at his sore attempt at humor. "I kinda gotta a feelin' they might no like cold iron, eh!"
He gently swings the massive bar back and forth, seemingly without effort, in the on-guard position for staff fighting.
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
Hugeo places the lock-picking tools in place and they retract, allowing his index finger to reappear. "Simple enough. Now, let's find this priest and bury this man already." He then walks in and passes the hall, into the chapel.
Varielky
The chapel is in shambles, with overturned and broken pews littering the dusty floor. Dozens of candles mounted in candlesticks and candelabras light every dusty corner in a fervent attempt to rid the chapel of shadows. At the far end of the church sits a claw-scarred altar, behind which kneels a priest in soiled vestments. Next to him hangs a long, thick rope that stretches up into the bell tower. From beneath the chapel floor, you hear a young man’s voice cry out, “Father! I’m starving!” Irene and Marcus keep their distance.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Cormac hears the scream and raises a brow, his hand going towards his rifle before he shakes his head. He keeps it close and looks to the others. "Well looks like we have ta go find out what that was all about..."
"I don't know where you're coming from, but starving isn't so rare for people without money. And, looking at all those candles, I doubt they have any left for that. Either way, let's finish the business with the priest first." Hugeo approaches the priest nonchanantly. "Faith-man, you've got visitors looking to put their father in the ground."
Varielky
As people start approaching the priest and asking questions, Dusty moves around the room trying to see if there are any signs of current threat, he sees the claw marks in the altar and the thrown pews and wonders if danger still lurks.
Perception; 12