"What do thou froggin' want now ?" Aarnr asks Erista brow furrowing as he finds himself addressing her back.  "Where ?" he follows up with much more interest as she mentions the carniverous toadstools. "They are the ones thou can eat, aren't they"

"Just a bit o' muck," Aarnr assures Oswald.  "Keeps evil spirits away."

"Ah, Hermonious!"

Hands eagerly reach down and scoop something, or nothing, up from the ground.

"You are indeed Death Unseen, my friend!"  It is a proud proclamation aimed at the cupped hands.

"Pestiferous numbers pool!"  The call goes out like a challenge.  "Healthy, but needs bath!"

"AH!"  He jumps again and dashes down the stairs.

"Oh!"  His journey ends abruptly in front of Erista.

"My most profound apologies, fairest of ladies, for I erred your fetching visage for that of a mere human child.  Can you ever find in your indubitably beautiful heart to pardon such a calamitous social transgression?"  He waits doe-eyed, much like a condemned prisoner awaits the fall of the headsman's axe.

"Bilfro Gabbins at your service, milady," he adds quickly to save himself from another fateful offence.

Erista looks up at Bilfro and blinks.  "I'd have to have a look..." she begins, her mind mostly having picked out something about `fetching' and `finding' and assuming he's asking her to give him stuff, now, on top of rescuing -- well, engineering his -- undeniably bringing him to the attention of somebody who then, as a direct result, rescued him.

But that's as far as she gets before the back of her mind starts prompting with other words like `service', `pardon', and `beautiful'.  She finally replays his whole sentence, breaks it down, and says, "Oh! Er, right.  Yeah, it's OK, it happens.  'Specially from far off like that, probably easy to do.  You're welcome.  I'm Erista."  Grateful that she has other alternatives available than shaking hands, she plucks up her skirt and offers him a quick curtsey to formalize the greeting.

Introductions are made, explanations and apologies are offered.  Colwyn eyes Bilfro suspiciously.

"So 'ow come's yer 'ere, then?  I mean, we ain't 'xactly close ter nowhere what a man of breedin, like yerself'd live."  The rogue stands with one hand resting casually on the hilt of his sheathed dagger.

Corian, showing the keen intellect which is required by those who study the arcane, takes in Bilfro's pointed hat, robe, and beard, before asking, "Are you, perchance, a practitioner of the thaumaturgic arts?  My name, sir, is Corian Barade, lately apprenticed to Dasidar of Reme and, technically, the leader of this band of stalwart heroes.  I am very pleased to make your acquaintance."

Oddly, Corian's expression hints at even more suspicion than Colwyn's.

And at that precise moment, almost as if it were an omen of some sort, a shaft of golden sunlight pierces the sullen, cloud-filled, western sky, and lances down into the courtyard, where it brightly illumines an area of ground some three or four feet to Bilfro's left.  A particularly grotesque beetle, caught in the sudden effulgence, freezes for an instant, before starting to burrow into the mud...

"Ah!  Delighted, milady!"

Bilfro bows down so deep the tip of his hat touches the ground between the two.  But a heartbeat later he springs up like a weed, holding out his two cupped hands towards her.

"Allow me to introduce my loyal companion, Hermonious Obidaia Mojo.  Hermonious, meet Lady Erista.  Lady Erista, meet Obidaia Mojo."

The hands fold apart to reveal what must be one of the smallest tortoises in existence.  It peers critically, if that is possible for a tortoise, at the Lady and nods, speaking silently with a small hiss.  Or perhaps it merely sneezes.  While this introduction carries on Bilfro turns to Colwyn.

"A most astute question, Sir!"

"Indubitably, my good Barade, whilst the pleasure is all mine!  I am most...  Ah!"  He claps his hands around Mojo as he leaps into the air and starts to look about, everything else apparently forgotten.  "Great Scotty!  Have any of you stalwart rescuers seen my meagrely earthly gauds and claimed property?  They are most precious indeed!  My goodness!  My book!  My staff!  My precious!  By golly!"

He would appear to be getting quite animated.

Shifting up next to Colwyn, Eilieen gives his wrist a sharp rap with her fingers.  "None of that, now," she mumrurs.  She eyes the newcomer with some curiousity, nodding along slowly with Corian's question.  She doesn't know anything about wizards and their garb, though there was one priest back at the Temple famous for his 'robe and pointy hat'.

Though, curiously, Corian seems somewhat skeptical.

"Apologies good sir," she replies after he clamis his...pet?  Familiar?  She has no idea.  "I have seen naught of such goods, though in truth, we have not carried out a full search of the area.  Perhaps your...erm...precious materials are not far, merely hidden under a pile of rubbish?"

In which case, it won't be Eilieen who finds them...

Colwyn glares at Eilieen and rubs at his wrist, "Yeah,  We should poke 'round the place a bit.  See if we can't find all the treasure what Corian promised us was 'ere.  An' that old bugger Feriblan's wizardin' gear as well."

Now it's Corian's turn to glare.

"Then we should be scarperin', in case there's more orcs 'bout.  We should be lookin' out fer them bloody spiders what Aarnr said 'e seen as well.  Can't say as I  likes the idea of leavin' them lollygaggin' 'round the place, waitin' ter sting travellers an' eat them's insides."

" Oh yeah... the spiders..." Ozzy says, his head bowed as the fear creeps back in on him. He had all but forgotten the 'talking spiders' with the fighting and rescue mission. While the thought of finding some forgotten treasure appealed to him, the thought of being a spiders entree did not. " ...guess we should take care of that." His effort is less than zealous even though he supports the idea with his answer. Using the tip of one dagger, he kneels down to flip over a small rock and look underneath. Then he sighs, his eyes scanning the top of the wall for any indication of arachnids...

SPOT: 17:30, Today: Oswald Osbourne rolled 15 using 1d20+4. spot.

Aarnr finds the exchange between Corian and Bilfro quite bewildering, but the rap on the wrist that Colwyn gets from Eilieen is only too clear, and the priest's own hand moves slowly away from the hilt of his greatsword so as not to earn a similar reprimand.

The tortoise ... isn't a toad, and that's good enough for Aarnr.  Indeed, he's impressed by the pumpion's fortitude in surviving his incarceration, given the generally fussy and fastidious nature of those that call themselves civilised, and on that basis alone prepared to overlook Bilfro's other manifest faults.

Running away from orcs is not in Aarnr's playbook, but hunting and killing giant poisonous spiders most certainly sounds like a fun way to spend the afternoon.

"Ye and me then," the priest grins malevolently at Ozzy, clapping the halfling on the shoulder~ish, before gazing around the courtyard speculatively, trying to work out how to get to there (the room in which he first spied the spiders while scouting ahead) from here.

It takes Aarnr only the briefest of consideration before he decides on which tower is the correct one.  He starts moving towards the structure in the north-east corner of the fortress.  The rest follow, though some seem more reluctant than others.

The door to the tower refuses to open under Aarnr's touch.

"Lookin' like it's bein' locked." Colwyn pronounces expertly, and steps forward.  He studies the lock for a few heartbeats, before selecting a pair of tools from his kit.  Then, before he starts work, he announces, "I's not wantin' anyone be'ind me while I's workin'.  I wants ter be able ter get clear when the lock pops, so's I ain't becommin' a spider's supper."

With that clear, he starts work on the lock, muttering, "'ello Sweet'eart, I's bein' named Colwyn.  Now, why doesn't yer jus' open up like a flower for me?  Nice an´ easy, like?"

Then, more loudly, he adds, "Bugger!  Mus' be rusted solid or summat."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:45, Fri 28 Dec 2012.

<backpost>
Fergus is one of the last to leave the lower gatehouse.  He seems disappointed not to have succeeded in raising the trapdoor but his immediate attention is directed at cleaning his scythe.  Beyond that he doesn't appear overly concerned by the damp or the smell.

When breaks in the conversation allow Fergus, adds briefly "I'm Fergus." and "Good job, Aarnr."  He seems otherwise content to lurk in the background.
</backpost>

As the others continue talking, Fergus wanders off towards the well in the middle of the courtyard.  With a little bit of luck, it won't be dry.  With a bit more luck, the orcs may have left rope and a bucket.  Just because he doesn't find the smell distressing doesn't mean he likes it.

As a result, he misses the mention of giant spiders.  He's not so preoccupied, though, as to miss the others making their way to the northeastern tower.  Fergus abandons his investigation of the well and rejoins the group.  He is careful to follow Colwyn's instruction, for which some of the more fastidious group members should be grateful as it keeps Fergus further away (although he's not as bad as Bilfro, who has been steeped in the stuff for longer).

"Hairy-legged chumpers don't use doors," the priest offers his considered opinion as he dismisses the recalcitrant lock.  "C'mon," he tells the mistakenly keen halfling,  "we'll see if there's another froggin' way in up there."

With a meant-to-be-subtle-but-failing wink to Fergus to join them, Aarnr takes to the nearby stairs and upper walkway.

"At least thou'll earn an honest death here," the priest comforts Ozzy.  "Better than whatever unclean end thou'll find when thy bones are blasted by wizard-spells !"

Alright, maybe the prospect of a horrible death from merely glancing upon the paraphanalia of Eralion which Corian seeks, isn't that comforting.

"Milady, 'tis not buried, these Orcs of erroneous cordial reception did liberate my appurtenances most diligently, I assure you!" he says with lament to Eilieen.

"Bilfro Gabbins, at your service, young man."  A grateful bow to Fergus and anyone else introducing themselves.

Fluttering around, undoubtedly searching for his precious belongings, he ends up at the door that valiantly has refused both Aarnr and Colwyn, once the door is abandoned.

"If this be the place," he says under his breath and bends over to peer into the keyhole, "I must petition ingress post-haste."  The tip of his finger prods the keyhole as if it could unlock it.

"By Voluminous generous girth, how utterly thwarting!"

He leans his back against the door, one hand at his back, the back of the other wiping his forehead. 

He then percolates significantly and eagerly pursues Aarnr toward the upper walkway.

"Onward!"

Aarnr hurries up the stairs and looks back along the parapet, towards the tower.  There is a door there.  Even from here he can see that it appears to have had boards fastened across it, as if somebody wanted to ensure that it would not be easily opened.

Meanwhile, Bilfro examines the lock, without any apparent result, then follows his new friend Aarnr up to the wall.

Ozzy seems more reluctant to tag along in the priest's footsteps.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:43, Wed 02 Jan 2013.

<Backpost> After his suggestion to help the voice that the halfling heard, Aramil follows the others out to the trapdoor. Seeing that he could be of no real help, the half-elf stands to the side and when the shower comes down he receives only a small amount. Wrinkling his nose at the smell he smiles slightly remembering the game of chicken that he played as a boy. Stand under Mrs Smyth's upper window at the required time and see who would last the longest when she emptied her chamber pot. But wait too long and then smell for the rest of the day, and get the ribbing of the others who were there. </Backpost>

Moving back out into the courtyard, he is less pleased to be reminded of the giant spiders that Aarnr saw, in what feels like a lifetime away. With wary footsteps the half-elf starts up the stairs following the giant man to the walkway above hoping to be of some use this time, though not in the direct path of said spiders.

Giant spiders.  Giant talking spiders.  It's the talking part that renders them unpalatable (not in an edible manner, of course...though Eilieen wouldn't consider eating arachnid, either).  Shaking her head at the thought, Eilieen grips her spear more firmly and hurries after the group.

"A small warning," she voices, trundling in their wake.  "My own divine prayers are mostly exhausted for the day.  We shall have to rely upon those of Aarnr."  A pause for consideration follows.  "His divine demands, in any case."

She shoots a mildly disappointed look at Colwyn.  "You're not having much luck with locks, dear Colwyn."

Ozzy reluctantly keeps pace, staying close to the barbarian for his own safety, but not truly wanting to get into a death match with a gang of oversized spiders. Still, he is no fool and understands that no matter where Aarnr goes, there will be a fight. So with that in mind, he carefully loads one of the bullets into the pouch of his sling, ready to shoot if it gets too intense.

"Don't froggin' worry," Aarnr reassures Eilieen as she confesses the depletion of her gods-granted gifts, "I've still got the this'd better not miss, thou bugger prayer at the ready, if I need it."

"Oh an' ..." the priest speaks a few incomprehensible phrases that sound both confrontational and rude, causing the blade of his weapon to shine with a bright light "... that's better - now we'll be able to gleepin' see what we're fobbin' killin' !"

Aarnr looks about him, gratified to see he has not one but both the minstrels with him, ready to witness what he hopes will be worthy of a spot in the sagas.  With a nod to his audience that is at once acknowledgement and warning, he swings his sword over his head, slamming it into the wooden boards that barricade the door.

Colwyn scowls at Eilieen, "It's bein' rusted solid.  Best locksman in the 'ole bleedin' world couldn' do nothin' with the sod."

There is a loud grunt, and a louder bang as Aarnr smashes his massive sword into the newly-discovered portal.  The extra boards are sturdy, but the door itself is apparently rotting.  The blade makes a deep notch in the edge of the wooden barricade, and tears a hole, big as Aarnr's head, right through the door.

The impact also rips some nails loose, causing the board to drop a couple of inches at one end, though still held at the other.

Interestingly the blow also shakes loose a couple of small stone fragments from the wall above the door...

Colwyn sighs, "So much fer that there elephant of surprise."

Erista jumps a half foot into the air, landing with a little bit of a squelch.  "Well, I was surprised!" she admits.  "If there is anybody in there, we're half like to find them dead of shock.  I bet it was twice as loud inside."

On top of Colwyn's confirmation that he won't be opening this door, she follows the others trail over to see what Aarnr is doing.  Although she stays a good way back, and finds herself a nicely shaded spot to watch from.

Having already demonstrated an impressive practical knowledge on matters architectural¹, as Fergus and the additional ruination of the cottage in the woods can attest, Aarnr is little perturbed by the falling masonry, and continues his efforts to remove the offending barricade, grabbing the damaged board and trying to prise it off with brute force, and resorting to his blade once more if unsucessful with that different approach.

¹ such as testing for structural soundness by hitting something until it breaks

Fergus waits to see whether Colwyn will manage to open the lock.  When the disreputable (but undoubtedly well-meaning) gent gives that up as a bad job, Fergus hurries up the stairs after Aarnr and the others.

Finding the big cleric wrestling with a boarded-up door, Fergus pushes forward.

"If you'll stand back, Aarnr, I'll have that down for you.  My axe should get through those boards easily enough.  Right tool for the job."

Fergus seems a little embarrassed to be telling Aarnr what to do, but he frees his axe from its belt loop and stands ready to do his best lumberjack impression.

With one hand on the loosened board, his other tightly gripping his sword, and lips curled in bloody-minded determination, Aarnr's glance back to see who is interrupting him is less than friendly ...

... but once his eyes alight on Fergus, the priest is happy enough to step back and allow his friend the honour of storming the barricades.  That's what friends do.

Aarnr rips away the extra board before stepping back and allowing Fergus to hack away at the decaying door itself.  Between the two of them the barrier doesn't stand a chance.

Light floods into the chamber beyond the ruined door, beams of radiance striking through the clouds of dust which fill the air, and revealing piles of broken wood, old furniture apparently thrown into the room at random, strewn across a floor which doesn't seem to be in much better condition than the door had been...

Cobwebs too, grey curtains of silk shrouding the farther reaches in dust-laden gloom.

And in the silence that follows the assault on the portal, there comes a new sound.  A combination of hissing and chittering, and a second, similar voice responds.

With people edging towards the door, Colwyn chooses to hang back close to Erista and the head of the stairs.

And there is a movement in the darkness of the room... a large spider, about the size of a medium-sized pig, crawls carefully out from among the cobwebs near the ceiling.  A moment later, a second picks its way delicately across the debris-strewn floor, which creaks and groans beneath the weight.  The two continue a conversation in their own bizarre tongue...



OOC: Rolls for Diplomacy, Gather Information and Sense Motive Initiative would be good about now, and attack rolls if necessary.

As noted, spider #1 is on the roof, about eight or nine feet off the floor, and spider #2 is scuttling about, trapped in the bathtub on the floor.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:28, Wed 09 Jan 2013.

"I need my gear!"

Bilfro continues to put some distance between himself and the door being worked upon, searching high and low for his missing possession.  That in itself is a n easy task in the current location and thus he moves at considerable speed back towards the top of the stairs.

"My book!  My staff!  My precious!"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:18, Wed 02 Jan 2013.