PRP: Leftovers
=======================> 17) Leftovers <========================
Open/Closed: OPEN: This event is open to any player who wants to sign up
using +event/signup. There may be limited space, so signing
up does NOT guarantee you a spot in the event.
Poster: Sebropert*
Start Time: 11:30:00 AM (LOCAL), Saturday, December 24, 2016 (2m 40s past date)
Location: RP2
Level Range: 2-5
Colonel Sahn'aders claims Yule-tide revenge for Harvest season grievances. The villagers need help!
Signed up: Mocharaos (Dru2)* Ilmig (Bbn3)* Maraxus (Bard7)* Blauensturm (Art3)* <list
hidden>
Confirmed: none
Config parameters ------------------------------
not yet implemented
======================================================( Connected* )
l -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* Plot Room: Two *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
These rooms are for player-run plots, although plots may also be run ongrid any time and
at any location. Player Run Plots are a welcome and desired series of events on this MUSH. When we speak of Player Run Plots we're speaking of any adventure or IC event that involves at least two or more players in addition to the one running the scene.
This can be anything from an emitted scene of a bar room brawl to a dungeon crawl. The
system is set up in a way to encourage spontaneous plots as well as pre-planned scenarios with minimal fuss with the staff. In short, if you have an itch to run a player run plot, for the most part you're allowed to do so. That is, plots tend to not require pre-approval from staff. Visit the website at Roleplay > Player Run Plots for details and awards.
As with all grid spaces, these places are considered public.
Channel: RPTwo
Add: addcom r2=RPTwo
PrP Help: +prhelp
Exotic Locales: +prhelp locations
Cheat Sheet: http://bit.ly/pnmTow
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Sebropert A black and copper Sith'Makar with burn scars. 0s 1h Mocharaos Small Sith'makar in leather 4m 2h Blauensturm Silver plated Golem w/a blue visor 45s 15m Maraxus A brightly colored olive skinned man. 1m 13m Ilmig Weathered & scarred mornir. Wild white mane and beard 50s 7m
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Plot Nexus <O> -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The adventurer's guild has put forth a request for a local village, situated a few miles south of Alexandros. Recently the location of a request itself, the villagers will accept whatever help that is willing to show up, with promises of having changed their ways. The request is to be met at the village itself.
The season has turned cold and dry. The harvest has been pulled in, and naught by the dregs lay in the fields, left for the livestock and crows. A murder of inky black birds frames the fence line on the way into the village, heralding the coming harshness of winter. Dour gray colors the barns and homes. Simple grass thatched buildings.
The mayor, a short round man with a big nose, waits in the square with a small group of armed locals. Armed being a vague term to describe their pitchforks, clubs, and torches.
Of course its down the road. Probably ON the road, too. Bandits, ruffians, highwaymen, that kit n kaboodle. That's what Ilimg expects, and he mutters loudly to himself as much as he strides his way there with Mornir strides.
Mocharaos had shown up, searching for her own reasons for something. The druid looking about the fields on her way in as she tail thumps idly. She makes her way over to the mayor and townsfolk as she gives a polite nod. She has her club and a censer dangling from a short chain in her left hand, the scent of yuletide herbs and spices wafting as it bobs back and forth, a thin plumb of smoke trailing from it.
Maraxus is a traveling minstral, and so is traveling through the village. He comes to a stop in his saunter and looks over the crowd, "Oh dear, is somebody makeing monsters in your back yard?" Glancing around, "Nope, no looming spooky castle. Must a be a story here!" Turning to saunter on over to the mayor and gathering adventueres.
Of course, a little late to the party is Blauensturm, the golem that just.....really seems out of place in the countryside. He stops at the edge of the square and looks over the people carrying pitchforks and the like. "Strange welcoming party."
"Praise the gods," the Mayor says and claps his hands when he sees approaching adventurers. His gut wobbles about as he claps his hands. "We were worried no one would help us. We have truly been forgiven for our old ways." He exclaims to the group. "When last adventurers came through here we had stolen birds from the Colonel atop the hill. We were starving 'cause our river had dried up. They unblocked our river, and we returned what birds were left." A stubby finger points up the hill towards the woods. "He's been quiet up there and we figured he understood. We've been good. Honest! Thank The Knight you have come. We are ill prepared to go up there ourselves." He says with a motion to the ragtag crowd behind him, mostly made of old men and children. One dusty man drags fort a strange carcase by the leg. Meat and metal combine in a monstrosity of science and magic. "Two days ago this thing appeared. Turning our people to stone. The Colonel needs to be stopped!"
Mocharaos gives a little nod, eyeing the body for a few moments. "Who turns to stone? Looking at it? Eatting it? Smelling it?" she questions, tilting her head, not wanting to get /too/ close to it. She lets her censer roll back and forth, wafting the yule scents. "Are you sure it's this... Colonel?" her tail giving a little bit of a nervous thump.
Ilmig looks at the mayor, then the villagefolk behind. The meat and metal carcass is next, followed by a glance up the hill where the mayor points. Finally, back to the mayor. "So. Ye were thievin, then ye weren'. Now ye gots oddies troublin ye, 'n ye think it's this Colonel out fer spite?
Ilmig hmms and looks at the tailed one with a shrug. "Could well be." Back to the mayor. "Ye ask this Colonel ifn it be him, or just go chasin 'im with pitchin forks?"
The larger golem looks down at the bird. "recently built. It is definitely artifice. If this man is doing this to birds.....we must, at least, talk to him."
Ilmig looks back down at the carcass and steps up to nudge it with a boot. "Ain't all artificery. There's meat 'n feathers 'n scales. Could be what's petrificatin' folk. Ain' lots of critters with scales 'n feathers, both. Ones I know of can petrificate."
The Mayor points at the creature. "Aye, the Colonel raises them birds. Only place to find them around here. The river was blocked not too far from his house. Some flesh machine thing was guardin' it. Or so said the adventurers." The mayor looks to his people. "The locals are scared. The Colonel fought in the war. We can't stand against him. If it ain't him, fine, but if it is, he needs be stopped."
Mocharaos gives a little bit of a nod. "Didn't think I'd see something like that out here. Must have come pretty far from home. A shame." she says simply. "Wrap it up and burn it on a fire away from town. No sense in letting it stay near." news about the Colonel has her frowning. "We should make haste, before more of these poor creatures are made."
Maraxus yawns into his hand and shakes his head, "Oye..." He offers and shakes his head slowly with a hmmm. "Oye vey... anybody making any sense of this? I have traveled many lands in my time, but this one is for the birds I suppose. I can tag along and help out as needed."
"This unit shall assist as well." Blauensturm says as he looks at the creature. "The source must be found and stopped....."
"Aye. Tha' bird don' look good fer eatin, and can't have it runnin about scarin off the ones't're. C'mon lads, le's go chat up a petrificatin chicken rancher..." Chasing giant birds? Well, it beats road running.
Ilmig says as he starts for the hill.
Following the river to its source leads up the hill and into the wood, leafless trees hang on all sides like looming scarecrows. The blockage to the river is strewn about on the shore, along with the remains of a mechanical frame with the bones of some creature mixed within. The skeleton has been picked clean, and gleams white on the frosted ground. Caw caw yells a nearby rook, warning the adventurers away from its claim. Deeper in the woods a clearing opens to reveal the old whitewashed walls of a manner house. Tiki torches spear the ground around the front lawn, as if the owner expected guests. A pen off to one side holds a several living cockatrice, fowling up their areas with a massive stink. From a rocking chair on the front porch rises an Arvek Nar in a white suit. A small black bowtie pinching at his throat. "G'evening gents," he says with a warm smile. "Should-a known them villagers were too yellow to come up here themselves." He presses out a few wrinkles in his shirt with one hand, and takes a sip from a glass of clear liquid with mint leaves with the other.
Mocharaos looks over towards the birds for a moment, then frowns, looking back towards the Colonel. "Are you the Colonel?" she asks, stepping up, that censer's Yuletide scent might be helping mask some of the cockatrice scents. She says "And are you the one making artifice with them?" her tail gives a simple thump along with her statements.
Maraxus has a quill and s parchment in his hands. Balancing it on his lute he is writing, "oh this is going to make a most interesting story." and glances around as he grins, "A bird of stone, a man in a black bowtie, callen people yeller. So quick to judge that they were cowardly, when there is courage knowing there are things you simply cannot face. So what say you, content in a rocking chair man."
Ilmig eyes the pens as they walk for the manor, before he spies the arvek in white. Not much for hob-nobbin 'r fancy suits, he says, "They be thinkin yer pens need mendin 'r ya need'a keep better eyes on yer flock. Ye got wanderers makin trouble."
Blauensturm is right behind the group, and says nothing....doesn't even look at the cockatrices as he wanders by. he does look at the colonel though.
"Oh, ay. I am Colonel Sahn'aders, and this here is my homestead. Those dastards down that hill came and stole my babies," he says while motioning to the birds in the pen. "And ate them for their silly harvest festival. Wouldn't been starvin' through the winter if they saved up food instead of gorging themselves after the harvest." Placing one hand in the other he cracks his knuckles. "And my little nuggets have to pay for their lack of foresight? No! I was a war hero. I protected them in times past. And this is how they repay me?" His voice gets louder and louder, and a hint of madness comes to his eyes. A wave of his hand and a push of a button beckons two feathery lumps from behind the fencing of the front porch. Misted green steam shoots from small pipes attached to the backs of two large cockatrice. "If they cannot respect it, then they will learn to fear my name. This is all that was left of my prize hens. I am Colonel Sahn'aders, and I will tear through you if I must to get my revenge. Original. Extra Crispy. Get them!"
Bah-gok!
"Sounds like there is two sides to this.....story." Blauensturm says as the Cockatrice arrives.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ATTENTION -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sebropert has dropped a TIMESTOP!
Please +init, then cease all roleplay and actions immediately and wait for Sebropert to instruct you further.
For in-combat commands, type: +thelp.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 1 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
27 Blauensturm 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
18 Mocharaos 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
16 Maraxus 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
11 Extra Crispy
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
11 Ilmig 1
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
9 Colonel Sahn'ad
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
8 Original
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
==============================================================================
Blauensturm seems to slump a little as the Colonel seems to feel threatened. "Initiating Termination Protocols." He says as his left hand *CHAKS* loudly and spins back into his forearm, then his forearm closes before he aims, and fires a lightning bolt at one of the cockatrices.....missing, but barely.
Mocharaos tailthumps for a moment before she says a few words and fire starts growing out of one of her hands. She flings the ball of flaming energy right at Extra Crispy, singeing it!
Extra Crispy opens its beak and "Bah-gooook!" Charging at Mocha, the mecha-hen pecks wildly.
Maraxus lets out a laugh, "Extra crispy and original? You are begging them to be eaten with names like this. So let us call them Lemon herb and secret herbs and spices!" Then the man breaks out into playing on his lyre. The music strumming forth as he considers,' OH we need a song with this. Let me see, bravely bravely they cooked the birds. Sauted and sundered, broiled and baked. The smell of chicken filled the air!" He continues to play and through the music everybody around him suddenly starts moving faster. "Oh lets get this on, in a rush, thoug you do not rush cooking foods."
Ilmig grumbles as the birds come a-runnin. "Git behin' me, lads!" By the time he says this, there's already lightning flying and beaks pecking. He pulls out his axe and shuffles over to the charging Extra Crispy to introduce the two. Forcibly. "Keep yer li'l pecker te yerself ye nugget!"
Colonel Sahn'aders' jacket bursts apart as metal plate raise about his torso. Two three fingered clawed hands extend out from his back and set on the ground like mechanical chicken legs. Pulling forth a small egg shaped orb he hits a button. The egg unfolds tiny wings which flap and hover the egg before him like a shield.
Original seeing its partner being brought to the chopping block, "Bah-gooook!" Charging at Ilmig, the mecha-hen pecks wildly.
Mocharaos had braced for impact as Crispy ran up and got her really good in the leg. An 'Ow!' given out as that leg seems to limp a little as she moves around Original. Other people have that as her hands all but ignite in fire as she pulls another ball of flaming energy before sending it racing at the Colonel.
Maraxus continues to play on his lyre. "Then he cried awfowl. Ruffled his feathers we did. crispy and original, spiced and cooked, we were going to eat like kings tonight. Hmm hmm going to have to work on the puns for this song. Such a oppertunity to get my ducks in a row." Grinning as he looks over to the colonel, "You though, are blinded by what you cannot seet.' A chord struck on his lyre as glitter appears in the air and settles all around the colonel.
"Ha! That all ya got!" Ilmig laughs as he pecks back; with a sharp and heavy axe. He carves up a Yuletide bird, not that he has any plans on eating this one.
The Colonel seems upset, but not exactly afraid. Strategically retreating, his own death ray drops a canister on the ground between him and his foes. "You'll pay for this impenitence! Big Box, lend me aid!" As the Colonal's visage disappears behind the fog cloud, a rumbling shakes the front door of the manor. "Fear the Colonel's Big Box!"
Maraxus continues to play his lyre. Watch the fight, "A mad colonel indeed! Big box special? Something so insane even the goblins would think you were crazy." Shaking his head as he dances up to Mocharaos and taps him on the shoulder, "You should be the true hero of this story!" Winking to the man.
Fire strikes the house, window breaks and catches the drapes aflame. A roar echoes from within the house, and the smell of savory juices boiling rise into the air. Seconds later the side of the house bursts forth. A half built monstrosity clambers forth from the wreckage of the wall. Multiple heads sit about its bulbous torso. Mechanical wings and legs screech and cry as Big Box enters the scene. "BAHGOOOOOOASSSGH!"
Ilmig's eyes narrow at the ...thing that breaks out of the house. "Oi! Yer off'n yer rocker, ye bloody 'ob!" He protected roads for decades, retired, and now he's STILL doing it. He tromps towards the mechahydrawhatsamadoohickey. This is one road that ain' gettin crossed.
Behind the fog cloud, all that is heard is the receding laughter of a Hob gone made. "Bwuahahaheheeeheeeheeaaa!"
Mocharaos keeps summoning more and more fire to her hands, throwing it at the big box now before she turns and runs towards the sign that mentions a gazebo in back. Buurrrn!
Maraxus steps back, moving away from the big box. He strikes a chord and suddenly flats and sharps form in the air and slam into the ground around the big box, "Well ok then." frowning a moment, "Big box gots some moves."
The monstrosity garbles a howl as it tries to break free from the glue. Failure brings forth Bah-goks! of outrage. Its many heads stare at its tormentors and electricity roils within its chest.
"Y'ain' gettin out!" Ilmig yells at the glarge mechapoultry. "Git back in there!" To help with the herding, he swings at it again with his axe, one hit chipping mettal (and maybe some dark meat) from it.
Blauensturm can't seem to see the mad colonel in the house, so he continues to fire on the mecha box thing. Thankfully, the chicken is a big target and the death ray hits....slowing it down more.
Maraxus continues to back up a bit as another round of shards misses.
Big box continue to crackle. Its many heads open the mouths and electricity shoots forth in a swath of ground burning lasers. "Bah-zaaaaap!"
"Yer big 'n loud, but what else is ye?" Ilmig barks right back after the light and electrical storm that looks like it's just fer show. "Ain' ya got no bite?! I'll give ye bite!" He bites it back, care of his axe. Twice.
Looks like that's all the more the leg can stand, cause it don't stand anymore. It crumples, leaving the pompous poultry to pour into a paltry poultry pile.
Blauensturm stands there as the mechachicken falls and keeps his arm pointed at it....at least for a few more seconds. "Playing recording: Bite my shiny metal ass!"
Skin crisps and browns in the fire that continues to catch. The beast lays in its own juices and steel frame. The cockatrice in the nearby pen cackle in a complete disregard for the surrounding, completely unaware that their owner, and former friends would never come back. They themselves more than likely to run a-fowl of some random hunter.