These Boots Are Made For... something
Log Info
- Title: These Boots are made for ... something
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Mercy, Rumbo, Ashes, Iuitl, Tenoc, Soup, Lyme
- Place: A Village in the Felwood
- Time: Thursday, October 08, 2020, 9:24 PM
- Summary: An adventuring party is sent by the Explorer's Guild to help out a village that insists on living in the Felwood. A cobbler's inventory has become magically endowed and is kicking everything in sight. Iuitil, a Sith'makar Shaman-witch will deal with the wild magic, everyone else must protect her. Upon arrival the shop is indeed full of animated boots. Burning the shop is proposed and wildly popular, until Iuitl puts the kabosh on that. Mal starts to eat some boots, the goblinoids cheer the corgi on while Soup attempts to stop him. The adventurer's move in, combat ensues, and Mercy is taken out before she even crosses the threshold. Iuitl commences her ritual, Tenoc takes up her flank protectively and is joined by Soup and Lime. Rumbo attempts to assist the sith, using his dragonspitter like a wand. Ash takes a more indirect approach, tempting the boots with her bare feet. People are knocked out and down with surprising efficiency, and boots are cleaved. Ash manages to capture a pair on her feet which almost overwhelm her, while Iuitl bleeds from her eyes as she struggles against the magic. As more and more adventurers drop, she finally achieves her goal. The boots become inert. Though, there is something in the Felwood that needs investigating. Whatever could it be?!
-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-= Mercy 5'5" 150 Lb Human Female A platinum haired Aesir woman, in flamboyant black. Rumbo 3'2" 35 Lb Goblin Male A gun-toting gobber with a wooden peg-leg. Ashes 5'11" 177 Lb Hobgoblin Female A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face Iuitl 5'2" 149 Lb Sith-Makar Female Short sith, mottled black scales, tired green eyes Tenoc 7'0" 280 Lb Sith-Makar Male Tall, green-scaled Sith'Makar hunter Soup 3'4" 40 Lb Gnome Male 3'4" of GLORY! DARING DO! Has a DIRECORGI! HUZZAH! Lyme Male An unknown on his first adventure! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool Lb Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The mission
A message to the Guild of Explorers came from a small village on the edge of the Felwood. It's never safe in those lands, but people live where they're going to live.
The boots, they say, have come to life. All of them. Well, all the ones in the cobbler's store, anyway. It's fairly unsettling and they suspect demons, naturally, given where they are.
Either way, it's strange enough that they've dispatched the lot of you to investigate, including a far more experienced adventurer in the form of Iuitl. It's believed that she'll have the ability to disrupt what's going on...
- ... presuming you can keep her from being bothered in the middle of it.
Mercy trails along at the back of the group keeping an eye on the other adventurer's 'six' her sharp gaze travelling back and forth along the back trail. Wary for anything.
Rumbo just had to hear two words really to pique his interest, Gnome and Trouble, and when those words are put together how could he stay away? When meeting up with the party Rumbo saluted Ashes first off and uses words like Captain and Aye-Aye when not gibbering away in Gobber. He also has a few glass flasks filled with some sort of oily yellow or green liquid attached to his gun belt, clinking gently against each other as he hobbles about on his wooden peg-leg.
Ashlee, has a hangover and a good reason to be out of town for a few days. She also has boots, new-ish, courtesy of her friend the not-monster. They are riding boots, not walking, so it's less than ideal. Still, she's present, and that's most of life. If she's lucky she won't have to put in the other fraction.
Seeing Rumbo's salute, she returns it. The flasks he's carrying get a glance, but no comment. The ashen Arvec is doing her best to avoid speaking, opening her eyes fully, or anything really and marches in the middle of the group.
It was a strange problem, but Iuitl could spare some time out of her research hours to go take a look. She makes sure she doesn't seem obtrusive to the others as they travel to the Felwood community. Her steps pad along with little clicks of her toe claws while she stays to the back of the group. Her familiar sits on her shoulder, the Raven keeping an eye on the rest of the party and making gentle 'rrrrh' noises at people if they get too close. He's not nearly as nice as his master.
Tenoc strides at the front of the group, longspear in hand, body posture more rigid than normal. Purpose. Place. Senses keen as he guards the rest of the party. And Sith.
Not so much the Raven. Evil Raven. WATCHING YOU.
The township of Well's Bright is not too faqr from the edge of the Felwood indeed. YOu can see the dark, twisted woods looming in the distance, the perpetual mist licking off it leaving more of it just beyond your sight.
You're greeted by a mounted man in armor upon arrival. The Khazad on his Digger pushes up his visor and waves at the lot of you.
"You're from the Guild, I can tell. Don't see many groups like your's pass this way."
Doffing her hat and flourishing it in a bow. Mercy greets the mounted man. "Indeed I was told I could help correct an inJUSTICE here. I'm afraid I cannot introduce you to the others. We haven't talked the entire way here. I.. am Mercy Fjarhundur. Which can translate to shepard or sheepdog in your tongue.
"Hello," Iuitl speaks up, "My name is Iuitl, or Feather." She dips her nose and thumps her tail. "I understand there are haunted shoes in the town."
Ash blinks her eyes, making a slow nod signalling agreement. Her attention is on the twisted woods, the mist and the shadows seemingly within it. Introductions, right, "Ash."
She raises her left hand in a lazy wave, indicating first the gobin near her, "Rumbo," then the other Sith, "Tenoc," and finally the knight on the dire corgi, "Sir Soup."
She has achieved her conversational requirements for the day.
Rumbo doffs his tricorne hat to the Khazad up on his Digger and winks as he speaks out alongside the others, offering his own introduction. "Good evening Sir. I am Rumbo," and adds a second name as some of the others have done, "But you can call me Awesome Gobber Guy." After a wink he adds, "I understand you want us to kill a Gnome Cobbler." <khazdul>
Tenoc barely pauses in his careful watch towards the Felwood, long enough to cast a baleful gaze towards the mounted Khazad. And the digger. Sharp teeth. Eyes, and chuffs. Glances back to the woods, the mists. Watchful. Duty!
The Khazad doubletakes at Rumbo, briefly, then nods towards him respectfully. "Not quite, Ser Gobber." <khazdul>
Then back to Trade. 'You know," he continues, "our shoe shop has gone rather mad. The boots are coming to life and... being... weird. I'll show you."
He turns and rides his digger into town, clearly expecting you all to follow. "It's a pleasure to meet you all,' he adds, "I'm Syvan."
Mercyshrugs as the rider leaves with little protocol. With her repeat crossbow drawn she continues to follow behind the party constantly checking their back trail. To Ashes and Rumbo she briefly nods, acknowleging their contribution to the conversation. even if she didn't understand the latter.
Iuitl nods in understanding to Syvan's statement. She gestures vaguely for the man to lead them to where the weirdness is occuring.
Ash is curious about weird boots, so she follows after the Khazad. Her steps are solid, she is setting the heels down firmly then marching forward. It's more militaristic than she'd like, she'll have to wear these down. Until that joyful moment she will endure the responsible aura it imparts. She resists the urge to swing her arms in time, one hand holds tightly to her satchel strap, the other hand she has stuffed in a pocket. There's a ruffling of her sleeve as her familiar darts up it, but he remains hidden somewhere beneath her clothes.
Eyes forward, step, step, step. STARE.
Tenoc walks in a manner utterly opposite Ashes': careful, instinctive, and deathly silent. Avoiding the trash, loose stones, cobbles-- walking forward and to one side of the group, following the rider with smooth grace.
Eyes forward, senses at the ready, stalk, stalk, stalk. STARE.
Rumbo hobbles along on his wooden peg-leg, following Syvan on his Digger and looking it over as he marches as best he can.
Finally, you arrive at the cobbler's store. It looks like your common village storefront. A nameless store with a sign out front that's just a shoe on it.
That's really enough for most people, isn't it?
All appears quiet inside.
"The cobbler was working on some boots and then all of them... came to life. And started ... kicking him and his apprentice. It's ... I don't even know."
There's a strum of the lute from that Gnome of repute, who rides atop the Corgi. A canine most fair, with tawny brown hair, and manners most courtly. "Fee, fae, fiddle de dee, what do we see. Living shoes, walking sandals, and slippers running free. There's a ghost of a chance that these footwares will woe the lance. One soul for a sole, a job done for a toll." A discordant note sounds which makes even the Corgi wince. "Drat, string broke. One moment!" Soup announces as he follows along.
Mercy says, "Hmmmm....not quite that tale from a prison I once visited. but definitely kicking a poor defenseless cobbler as act worthy of facing the fist of JUSTICE. ""
Rumbo frowns as he peers into the store window. "Magickal tomfoolery." Rumbo states definitively. "Do you have any Myrrish Gnomes in the village Mister Syvan?" <khazdul>
"Master Cobbler Avoogly is a gnome, yes, and he does hail from Myrrdion," is the anqswer Rumbo gets in trade from Synan.
GAME: Iuitl rolls Perception: (2)+1: 3
"If we send Rumbo in, his peg-leg might confuse them." Ashlee suggests, rising on tip-toes to look in a window. She keeps her hands in her pockets, she glances at Tenoc followed by Rumbo, before focusing on Svyan, "Do you want to keep the building or can we torch it?"
Might as well get the first goblin solution out of the way.
Rumbo nods solemnly to the Khazdul and then suggests, "We don't need to torch the entire building. We kill this Myrrish Gnome cobbler, his magick breaks and the problem is solved." Then after a moment adds, "Probably." <goblin-talk>
Fire is involved. As spoken by the Most Ancient Artifactor of the Gobber Temple of Boom! "Yus," Tenoc growls, glaring at the structure with less enthusiasm. "Fire solves all. Cleanses. Purifies. Smolders in welcome ways."
Iuitl peeks in through the doorway, and then shuffles inside, and begins to cast a spell to see if she can pinpoint a source of magic in the room. She speaks in Draconic and makes a few quick gestures with her hands. After she finishes spells, she barks back at Tenoc, "We are -not- burning down a common man's livelihood." She seems especially rankled by this comment, even if it may never be acted on.
GAME: Iuitl casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 10 DC: 16
Iuitl decides to step into the building proper to investigate. "I'm seeing magic in there," she tells the others. "I need to take a closer look."
Tenoc rumbles noncommitally, an under-the-breath grumble at Iuitl's chastisement. Shoes-- what a silly concept. And he sighs, more heavily-- silly *softskin* concept. "As spirits will," he intones darkly, returning his gaze to dutiful study of the rest of the... fascinating town. Softlings. Not even civil enough to have a bed of healing firestones! Tsk.
Tenoc blinks, glancing back with jerk. Nodding, he steps alongside, spear firmly in hand. "This one accompanies," he rumbles, nodding as he steps alongside.
Ash follows Tenoc in. She lays her hand gently on Tenoc's shoulder. A hand that has dark skin, with stylized bones tattooed in white against her flesh. If one squints, it looks skeletal, an impression enhanced by the skull she has for a face. She stares at him, and while the gesture is friendly an unsettling aura surrounds the ashen arvec that prevents it from being the comforting gesture she intends. "We'll have a fire when we get back."
"We'll have a fire when we get back," she says, looking at Rumbo, repeating herself. <goblin-talk>
GAME: Rumbo casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 1 DC: 14
Mercy peeps in. But decides to guard the doorway and avoid crowding the room. "I'll watch outside"
The little Gnomish Knight brings up the rear, walking infront of his trusted Dire Corgi steed. "Now, no devouring shoes Mal." Soup intones to the dog which looks around the shop with bright curious eyes. The Corgi pauses to bark happily at the sound of it's name then tilts it's head to the right and left. "Excuse me." Soup says as he saunters around Mercy, then turns and waves a hand at his Corgi. "Second thought stay here, the last thing I need you doing is inhaling a baker's dozen of shoes and then have to listen to you whine as you try to pass a leather and wood plug the size of a water mellon."
Rumbo draws his dragonspitter with a gunslinger's flourish while at the same time he invokes an incantation in Eldrtich. The magical words end just as the dragonspitter is brought up to point into the store at eye level and a cloud of smoke billows from the barrel but no projectile is fired. "WOW!" Rumbo gasps in Gobber-talk as he aims with the dragonspitter this way and that, "Stupid Myr Gnome! Avoogly animated everything looks like. Probably magicking up his tools and his boots and it all just was screwed up. Typical gnome magick." As he speaks Rumbo follows the others into the store. <goblin-talk>
The interior of the cobbler's is... about wht you'd expect. There are a lot of shoes. Shows, boots, and tools.
OF course, the boots are... walking aroqund the shop. On their own.
- In pairs.
They appear to be pacing back and forth. Some of them are even hovering in mid air. Your arrival has definitely stirred up the acitivity, however.
GAME: Iuitl rolls Spellcraft: (11)+18: 29
"Right, those shoes are flying." Soup says simply, he reaches up and strokes his pointy mustahce and beard. "Definately not common behavior among shoes. Should we put out saucers of milk?" The little Gnomish Knight shifts slowly and idly thumbs the scimitar hilt at his hip. "So, ghosts, magic, faries... er hmm. I know, we could tell sad stories until they're not longer happy feet?"
Iuitl seems to wander about, getting a close look at the boots as they meander about, looking pretty fascinated. "Maybe an Animate spell..." she muses aloud, as she observes the magical auras about the place.
Ash carefully examines the boots, keeping an eye out for Jackboots. Those tend to go for the face. And take an eye out. Best to be avoided. That species doesn't appear to be present, the large majority of them appear to be sturdy workman's boots, which don't interest her, and a species of utility boots. If they were made by goblins, they likely would be very practical. Somehow, she suspects the gnomish version contains a small fold-out makeup room, and a selection of glitter. Which she would not find much utility for.
Still, the ashen Arvec is willing to take the leap. She sits on a counter, takes off her cavalry boots, and watches for a fetching pair wandering by. Something soft, something grey, something magical enough to walk on the ceiling perhaps. If she sees some good prospects she'll stretch out her feet and wiggle her toes. Her monster feet, with monster toes, and stylized bones tattooed on them.
Tenoc tenses, hovering protectively over Iuitl as she wanders. He casts the animate boots one glare after another, eyes dark as he watches for any sign of danger. Less fascinated and more... antsy. Must watch everything!
As Mercy peers in the door, a pair of patroller's boots come flying out, striking her in the forehead and knocking her out cold. She'll keep for no, the stoic adventurers continue on.
Iuitl frowns as she takes in the exact ailment of the boots and, indeed, the location, looking around the building with a growing unease. "There's... a sort of uneasiness in the fabric of magic here. It is unnatural. I'll need to perform a rite, but it could take hours. Or it could be impossible, if the shoes... kick me the whole time," she tells the other adventurers. She goes about carefully arranging the furniture in the room, and opening windows, and generally preparing the space for the rite.
Rumbo frowns as he peers over the dragonspitter out in his hand to Iuitl and calls out, in his harsh version of broken tradespeak, "Just kill stupid gnome? Cobbler magics go bad. No more Gnome, no more magic. Simple?"
-GNOMP- One dangerous kicky pair of kickers vanishes into the great maw of the Dire Corgi. "MAL!" Soup snaps, making the dog look down sheepishly, where it soon devours another pair of walking boots. "Mal, no! Bad!" Soon the little Gnomish Knight is wrestling with the massive dog's mouth. Trying to get his gloved hands in there and get the shoes out. Armored Gnomish legs kicking in the air as the Corgi rears back with Soup hanging on, trying to get away from it's rider as it chews hard and faster. There is a pause from Soup as he looks over at Rumbo. "Can we not be generic in our Gnome-cide?"
"No, let him eat them. That seems the fastest solution." Ash tells Soup.
Iuitl tells Rumbo, "Death will likely make this worse. The shoemaker isn't magic, it's this place that's the problem. It needs to be repaired." Eating the magic shoes, which is the immediate problem, and ignoring the Gnome Knight? Must be a smart Dire Corgi! Rumbo offers the animal a wide grin as he nods in agreement with Ashlee and calls out encouragingly, "Good dog. You is smart! Good dog!"
Immediately, the boots start kicking at the corgi. Clearly, they are the most evil boots every produced.
Lyme is along for a contract -- one of his very first contracts. This is all... fascinating. He's looking at everything wide-eyed and interested, not hardly grunting at all. The boots are vexing though -- he's trying to figure out what's going on when the kicking breaks out!
GAME: Soup rolls 1d20+7: (19)+7: 26 GAME: Soup rolls 1d6+6: (2)+6: 8
As the boots and shoes rise to the attack, the Dire Corgi acts! Pushing past Soup, vicious massive fangs snap out, destroying one of the horde! Swinging up into the saddle Soup waves his hand. "Leave no soles alive!" He snaps the dog faced helm into place as he girds for battle. The Corgi for it's part happily slurps down a pair of laces as it sizes up the next repas de chaussures.
GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d20 +9: (8)+9: 17 GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d10+6: (7)+6: 13
Evil magic. Evil spirits. Pausing barely long enough to sketch a ward against evil in the air, Tenoc twirls the greatspear in a vicious arc, dark stone tip quivering in the air as he readies it before him.
"Ceremony!" he snarls in Draconic, tail lashing as he steps forward. "Begin, swiftly! This one defends you!" <Draconic>
GAME: Iuitl rolls Spellcraft: (5)+18: 23
Iuitl has, at this point, removed her robe! Oh no, she's-- still in a lot of clothing, actually, with that huipilli . She sets the robe aside as the others start getting booted by evil shoes, and goes about the ritual as her patron has taught her. She does a little dance, swaying and stepping around the room. She ignores Tenoc's words, because she's already doing her thing.
GAME: Ashes rolls cmb: (19)+2: 21
Ash, the grey skinned Arvek with the skeleton tattoo simply everywhere, has been sitting on the counter with her bare, gnarly, goblinoid monster feet out. She has been teasingly wiggling her toes, and staring at the marching selection looking for a svelt, sexy suede pair in grey and her size. Preferrably, one with a useful enchant like air-walk or spiderwalk, and not ass-kicking.
Astonishingly, she has spotted a suitable pair. Miraculously, she has attracted them also. She's drawn the attention of a lot of boots.
As her new pair come near, she reaches out and snatches them. They struggle! She struggles! They're attempting to... do something, it's not clear what. She's attempting to get her hairy, road-conditionned feet with the huge toe-knuckles and the dirty nails into the boots' mouthes. Surprisingly, these boots do not have a foot fetish, and twist in her hands.
As she's fighting them, she looks over at her original pair and orders them, "Get down there. You are military officer's boots, from Bludgun and Myrrh. You've managed to sort out your differences. Straighten them out." That should put the boots in, as she attempts to put the boots on.
GAME: Rumbo rolls Spellcraft: (2)+9: 11
Rumbo backs towards Iuitl as she strips off and waves the dragonspitter in his hand more like a wand than a firearm. "Apprentice at your command, Master." Rumbo intones with lisping hisses before he begins to chant in Eldritch meditation and watches for queues to help with. <draconic>
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (3)+6: 9 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (18)+6: 24 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (6)+6: 12 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20q+6: (14q)+6: 6 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (5)+6: 11 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (4)+6: 10 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (12)+6: 18 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (6)+6: 12 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (3)+6: 9 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3+1: (1)+1: 2 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3+1: (1)+1: 2
SO MANY Boots! They're everywhere! A pair smacks Soup in the head, knocking the knight out. A squadron converge on the corgi and kick the dire doggy unconscious. unconscionable!
The boots... the boots swarm. Some of them are trying to get Iuitl, while Tenoc and Lyme both manaqge to get ... kicked ... by boots.
Flying boots, actually. Hopping boots. Animate boots, al lthe same. It's disconcerting, but then, whoever made this happen has produced a rare feet.
GAME: Lyme rolls 1d20+8: (7)+8: 15 GAME: Lyme rolls 2d4+6: (5)+6: 11 GAME: Lyme rolls 1d20+8: (3)+8: 11
Lyme is put off by this turn of events! He swings his curved sword (CURVED SWORDS) through one boot, narrowly issing another one. Apparently, he doesn't like getting kicked like this.
GAME: Iuitl rolls Spellcraft+2: (1)+18+2: 21 (EPIC FAIL)
Naturally, one would think having an enthusiastic gobber with a dragonspitter near her would be the source of her distraction... but no, Iuitl is more distracted by a boot flying past her face and stumbling over the half-shredded remains of another. It is deeply difficult to concentrate. "Remain in the center, and make the gestures for balance, to help center the flow of magic. That is helping, thank you." <draconic>
Iuitl appears to be bleeding from her eyes due to some kind of magical backlash, but she hasn't stopped in her efforts. She can always heal herself later, blighted magic like this must be purified before it gets worse!
GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d20+9: (13)+9: 22 GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d10+6: (4)+6: 10
Tenoc endures the kicks of the magic boots, warded by trust in proper spirits-- trust in Ancestors' Dance behind him, doing his part to contribute-- violence in counterpoint to her weave, the controlled fury of the most savage grace. Obisdian slices clean and true; the spear whirls in jagged circles, deft destruction wielded with malignant mastery. The circle of defence-- efforts redoubled as the dancer stumbles! Teeth bared in murderous promise, muscle working overtime to protect! Defend! Defy! Rumble breath; slash in return as circle takes him back to dancer's domain.
GAME: Ashes rolls cmb+5: (1)+2+5: 8 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Ashes rolls will+2: (12)+8+2: 22
Ashlee struggles with the boots.
Success! They suddenly surge and swallow her feet. The fit is divine. She feels like dancing! It would be wonderful, to cut a rug and perhaps a few people. Strut some stuff and show off.
The ashen Arvec immediately squelches that thought. She still has the headache from Ma Rosie's, and the embarassment. When she showed off, she showed off way too much. Her familiar dances, Ash does not.
She drops off the counter and stands there, unmoving. She looks over at her original Cavalry boots. "You aren't going to help out, are you?"
GAME: Rumbo rolls Spellcraft: (3)+9: 12
Rumbo nods his agreement to Iuitl and continues his eldritch chanting, focusing the meditation on balance and waves the dragonspitter about to trace a balancing rune in the air before him.
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (4)+6: 10 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (20)+6: 26 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (8)+6: 14 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (16)+6: 22 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (7)+6: 13 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (7)+6: 13 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3+1: (1)+1: 2 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3+1: (3)+1: 4 <OOC> Whirlpool says, "ROLLING TO CONFIRM BOOTICAL" GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL)
The boots are ... booting. They can apparently fly, at least, or at least leap really good? They slap at Lyme, Tenoc and Ashes, each, though only Lyme and Tenoc actually get HURT by the forcecful little things so far.
GAME: Lyme rolls 1d20+8: (19)+8: 27 GAME: Lyme rolls 1d20+8: (15)+8: 23 GAME: Lyme rolls 4d4+12: (11)+12: 23 GAME: Lyme rolls 1d20+8: (4)+8: 12
Lyme shifts his bulk back towards Tenoc, trying to wall off Iutl fro the boots. One of his swings is just glorious -- all edge alignment -- and cuts the boot in half, but leaves the top half of the boot resting on top of the lower half, before they both fall to the floor.
The air around you is starting to crackle with a sensation of power.
GAME: Iuitl rolls Spellcraft: (5)+18+2: 25
Iuitl continues the strange ritual, waving her hands about, while her eyes gradually stop bleeding. There's a feel of ambient power in the air as she weaves the local magic together, acting as an arcane surgeon for the lands to perform an emergency treatment. Her chanting is all in Draconic.
GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d20+6: (6)+6: 12 GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d20+6: (18)+6: 24 GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d20+6: (20)+6: 26 GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d20+6: (20)+6: 26 GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d20+6: (18)+6: 24 GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d20+6: (14)+6: 20 GAME: Tenoc rolls 1d10+6: (3)+6: 9 GAME: Tenoc rolls 2d10+12: (3)+12: 15 <OOC> Tenoc executes Rabid Ginzu Style!
Tenoc snarls as one of the boots rebounds from his muzzled nose, leaving the snarling Markar growling in heady frustration. Respnding, he lashes out in deadly counter and fullest earnest; leather slices apart as the deadly blade weaves, snapping in, out, slicing into two of the soaring leather footwear. Refocusing, he draws back, spear held ready as his tail lashes. Sparing a glance to either side, he moves to close the defensive barrier with Lyme, deadly shaft ready to carve its intricate weave.
Boot to the Head! A pair of workman's boots fly out of nowhere and smack Lyme in the back of the head, laying him out. Boots on the ground.
GAME: Ashes casts Sanctuary. Caster Level: 3 DC: 14 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20: (20): 20
Ashlee settles into her new boots, she flexes her toes, take that. Now, to do something to help Iuitl, perhaps a protective spell. She steps forward and shakes her holy symbol, "Feiu of the Tears, protect her."
She waits for a good moment. A dancing lizard singing in draconic and bleeding from her eyes is probably best not to disturb, but she has to touch. Seeing an opportunity, she reaches out and puts the sanctuary on her tail. There, that should do it.
The boots don't care.
Rumbo continues to act as Iuitl's apprentice, blocking the centre of her and enhancing the weave. BOOT! A pair smack the gun gobbo on either side of his head, right in the ears. He goes down.
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (11)+6: 17 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+56: (10)+56: 66 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (5)+6: 11 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (8)+6: 14 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+6: (3)+6: 9 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3+1: (3)+1: 4 GAME: Boots damaged Ashes for 4 points. 22 HP remaining.
These boots were made for kicking, really, and Ashes gets a nasty flying boot to the stomach, but the rest bounce harmlessly off and are nimbly evaded. The ashen Arvec again wonders why she left her armour behind.
There are only so many here, and really, they've been thinned.
But then they start pulling back, pulling together... creating an approxcimation of humanoid shape..
- ... made of ... boots?
The bodies hit the floor, only a few remain standing. Ash, Tenoc, and Iuitl.
GAME: Iuitl rolls Spellcraft+2: (9)+18+2: 29
Iuitl appears to be locked in a trance as she completes the final steps of the rebalancing of local magic. She appears to be very good at it, as even a minor misstep for her still looks like the work of an expert magic user. With a triumphant clap of her hands together, and a sound like resonating metal, the magic reaches equilibrium, and then... all the boots fall to the floor at once, whatever was moving them severed by the rite. "There. Now. There's an influence in the Felwood that needs to be investigated as well, that feels like the source of this magical influence. Thank you very much, Rumbo... and everyone else." She gives a brief pat to Tenoc's arm and a smile. Then she gathers up her robe. She has a troubled look on her face, though. She saw something during the ritual, something weird, and it lingers on her mind.
Tenoc ends his stances as the boots fall from the air, the aura of magical malice surrounding them fading. Adrenaline not so swift to fade; it takes the scaly touch from Iuitl before he blinks, coming back to himself with a slow, rumbling nod. A last, cautionary glance around the room, and he watches the way back, tail curving slowly as he moves. Troubling thoughts for other times, wiser heads than his; he has done his part, and is satisfied. Now, to see Dancer safely home, resting, fed.
Satisfied.
"Ok." Ashlee says, watching the ritual end and the Sith communicating amongst themselves. She glances at everyone that was knocked out by the flying boots. They'll be fine. To be sure, she shakes her tiny holy symbol, 'tink' and channels some healing. Vardama's comforting caress should sort the others out.
She considers leaving a note. Instead, she picks up her cavalry boots and tucks them under her arm. Her familiar remains hidden, there's a Raven about. She looks over at Iuitl, "Are we helping you with that or is the assignment complete?"
It's a long walk back, she wants to get started.
The Khazadi looks relieved, of course. "...but why the boots?" he asks, curiously. "What's going on that caused this?" HE scratches his head. "The store owner isn't a wizard. Why would a magical plague strike him and his boots? I don't underwstand."
He frowns. "Is it the Woods? Are they growing again?" He casts a wary eye over his shoulder back to the Felwood.
"Or is it something else?"
The Vast Boot to the Head
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vFldBVWFgWo
Combatty Stuff
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 1 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
>> 16 Soup 1 <<
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16 Iuitl 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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14 Tenoc 3 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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12 Ashes 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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9 Rumbo 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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8 SO MANY BOOTS
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4 Lyme 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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OOC Outtakes
<OOC> Tenoc headtilt. "Bothered in the middle of it? I don't quite understand."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "It means doing whatever is going to likely take all of his aqttention."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "And you'll be protecting them :)"
<OOC> Tenoc ahs, understands. "Also: Iuitl is a she." ;3
<OOC> Ashes says, "It's hard to tell with the lizardmen."
<OOC> Tenoc says, "It is easy to tell! You softskins make everything more complicated. :("
<OOC> Iuitl says, "Just look at my amazing hips."
<OOC> Ashes says, "Those hips are amazing!"
<OOC> Tenoc finds it wise to be quiet now. Tailthump!
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Yes, to clarify, you're on your way to the FElwood township together :)"
<OOC> Rumbo says, "Now all I can imagine is Iuitil singing "Look at my hips, my hips are amazing" to that horse animation and doing the Shakira dance."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "D:"
<OOC> Tenoc dies.
<OOC> Ashes is very glad you picked that up Rumbo :) Goblin wavelength!