In reply to Masugatan (msg # 905):

It is a well made door,and apparently,  unlocked.

Is McNealystill trying to messwith the sconces and blocking the door?

OOC: results of trap search?  Msg. 893

McNealy should be standing off to the side a bit by this point.  What he cared about were the vials on either side, and he has (one of) them in hand by now.

While the Alchemist is very curious to know what is behind the door, he's also very torn.  The mixture looks very valuable to him.  He looks back and forth, almost furtively, before focusing entirely on the liquid in the vials.  The tradesman will very carefully try to take the mixture and relocate it into a proper vial.  The absence of his chatter might be noticeable, as he will get very quiet while he concentrates on his task.


OOC  The alchemist will be off in his own world, althugh in close proximity to the door.

I have not yet mapped his equipment to the level of the more psycho obsessive detailed players.  McNealy will probably need to go back to Cookie to get a clean vial or two.  The player didn't think of it, and so it's probably safe to assume the character did not either.

[Private to GM: Too many disads for him to care about anything but the potion.  It's a new mixture, maybe even a new formula if he can reverse engineer it.  He'd rather hold on to it for study, possibly even more than see it burning.]

In reply to McNealy (msg # 908):

It is a denatured and unstable glow vial, disintegrating into alchemical fire.

“Tell me somethin’, Mr. Door: how did you get so good at what you do?”

In reply to Masugatan (msg # 910):

The door is silent, as yet none have opened it.

In reply to Narrator (msg # 911):

Seeing no-one actually doing anything with the door, Emma will hold the staff in her left hand and open the door, standing behind it to allow folk to deal with whatever might be in the next room.

In reply to Emma Wilson (msg # 912):

The doop opens into a small room with doir left and right, and a railed staircase down ahead.

In reply to Narrator (msg # 913):

"Do you guys need me to clear the way for you?" She asks with some mirth.

The elder sister glares over her shoulder at Emma.

"And what if there was a trap I hadn't yet found?  Would you prefer to search by tripping the traps, rather than look for them so they can be disarmed or avoided?"  She gestures, as if to guide Emma forward through the door.

In reply to Evelina Grattan (msg # 915):

"If you are actually doing something, happy to wait. But it seems we were all standing around the door waiting for someone else to do something. You want me to lead the way, or do you want to check for traps?"

“Let me know when you’re ready for me to drag my sorry carcass through the door.”

In reply to Masugatan (msg # 917):

"I am ready now, unless Evy is checking for traps first? I can follow you with a light though."

"I was checking for traps, but I guess I'm done.  After you."

In reply to Evelina Grattan (msg # 919):
Valerie steps through, leaving fresh prints in the dust, and peers over the railing.
"Well, you.might want to avoid that second step, the surface isn't tread-smooth like the first and third steps."

In reply to Valerie (msg # 920):

Emma makes a mental note to do so, but waits for Masugatan (and possibly Valerie) to lead the way down, and she will follow with the light.

Jednesa looks over at Christine, "Will they be okay without us?", she nods towards the inside of the hill.

In reply to Jednesa (msg # 922):

"I think so. It is an alchemists lab, after all, and we sent in an alchemist. We can watch their backs...hey big girl, tell me about your exploits as part of that great big army!"

The sisters wait for Valerie, Masugatan, and Emma to descend the stairs.

"Second step, sister."

The alchemist notes what Valerie says, and thenfollows the rest of the group down the stairs.  He's careful not to step on the second one.

In reply to McNealy (msg # 925):

Emma will follow Massy, also taking care not to step on the second step.

"Mostly was boring.  March to place, build camp, wait.  March other place, build camp, wait.  Sometimes we fight, but even that boring sometimes." She mimics a 'smaller person shouting, "'Jednesa push tower to wall!  Then come back and wait!'"  sigh  "But sometimes much fun.  When Jednesa have to smash wall with axe," she pats the iron axe/mace, "or use big hammer on wall, or even fight!  Haha, good times.  Jednesa stabbed by bolt shot at Jednesa here," she points what is probably a scar on her left thigh, "and stabbed by spear by knight here," she points to what could be a scar on right cheek, "hit by big rock on head here," she pats the top of her lumpy head.  "Those times less fun.  Like with bad priest who blind Jednesa at wine place.  Jednesa get mad not think right, not fight smart.  It not fun fight like that, no... hmmm.  No joy in fight, just mad.  But is okay, Jednesa trained to fight when mad same as when not mad.  No joy in fight.  Lose many other ogre from tribe when they fight mad.  Sometimes so mad fight each other."

She's silent a moment.

"But that over.  Big Army gone.  Ogres from tribe all dead but little brother, Ento.  Other ogres leave to go to homes or other armies.  Ento get job on ship, hope to find home.  Come back find Jednesa when know where home is.  Ento small and smart like Malmar, Ento find home someday.  Maybe.  No Big water by home, like here in city."

In reply to Jednesa (msg # 927):

Christine listens quietly, noting the scars.

"Yes, fighting mad is no substitute for fighting smart. The trolls we pushed from the cellars proved that."

When the subject changed to Ento she smiled.

"An ogre on a ship? That sounds a bit misplaced...I spent some time on a ship as a cook, but the sailor appetite was not constrained to food. Even with Chris, I had to leave..."

She pauses, as if remembering.

"...when one guy just would not take no for an answer. Cute little bluebird, he kept calling me. Annoyed the shit out of me. I tried to dress as much like a boy as possible, but I think that just turned the twisted prick on more. One night he cornered me on the quarterdeck when I had to take a turn at the helm...He was a lot stronger than I, and Chris was watching my things, since I shared a cabin with a not-so-trustworthy wench. This prick just came up and grabbed me, and started kissing me! Not at all polite or anything, just harsh and gross. He started running his hand up me, so I let him have it..."

At this point a gout of flame erupted from her mouth, away from Jednessa, though she could probably sense the heat.[Private to GM: Breathe Fire, rolled 9 under skill...]

"When the smoke cleared, his skull was charred and he fell to the ground dead. Took me a few minutes to hoist him over the side. The next port was Northport, so that is where we departed the ship. Sometime I wish I had your raw strength, but we each have what we were born with, eh?"

The word ‘prick’ snaps Masugatan out of the reverie he’d been lost in.  He is relieved to learn it wasn’t being used in reference to him, for once.

He heads in, drawing his butcher’s blade and offering to take point.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 23:44, Mon 08 Feb 2021.

In reply to Masugatan (msg # 929):

Co-incidentally, Christine and Jednessa's conversation is outside, out of earshot of the rest, I should imagine. At least at conversational volume...