Mister Doctor

Dead Guy - KAC: 20/19 Fort: +11 Ref: +6 Will: +7 HP: 59/59 THP: 0/7 Hero: 1/3 | Perception: +7 The corpse was often quiet during the hours when it haunted the Silver Raven's little nest. It did not need to eat their food or interact with them to keep what passed for its mind sharp. It did not even need to breathe. It seemed content to loom in a corner and observe, reassuring itself that the batch of living souls that had taken over the longer term planning for it were still alive and well. The additional muscle was useful to have around. Sure the corpse was clumsy and could not much help with moderately complex tasks but it was nearly tireless and singleminded when it was given something it could grasp. Regardless, it had a habit of sneaking up on people inadvertently, a remarkable ability for something so big and bulky. All that said, it was probably still a touch mortifying for Star to nearly run right into the metal scrap that could only be generously called 'armor' it wore about its chest. The corpse looked down at her, ruined face largely impassive as its single eye regarded Star with whatever came closest to curiosity for it. Almost absently, it reached up and corrected the mangled cartilage of its throat enough for it to stumble through something approaching human speech. "Hrrrnk-Ssstaaarrr?" It rasped at her, head cocking slightly like it was some massive and ill-used mutt they had found knocking over garbage cans in an alley for whatever putrid morsel it could find... Granted, the corpse's actual eating habits were not much better than that if the states of some of the dead it left in its wake were anything to judge by.

At this level, I fully expect Ne'charri to be able to take a bunch of goons. Not gonna lie, I was a little worried things might escalate too much but the situation seems well in hand and you've got Keeper backing her up. Sharpe is just trying to make sure their primary task is addressed... though considering he is a man of science and a few tactical lies, that might get interesting if the druids do show up.

Rasalhague - KAC: 18 Fort: +9 Ref: +8 Will: +3 HP: 20/20 Hero: 1/3 | Perception: +3 Seeing the reaction to the bells, Ras scrambled up and grabbed at the one jammed through his belt, nearly fumbling it in his haste. Rushing over to another of the nasty little things, Ras began ringing the bell frantically, trying to herd it toward the trapdoor. "Nyoka! Keep the ringing up! We can try to drive this one out of here!" He called to were his fellow student was perched on the table. If these things were truly terrified of the bells then it would be a small matter to scare them out of their corners and out of the room entirely. Action 1: Stride Action 2: Draw bell Action 3:Ring it in #2's face

It's an option you select when first making the thread

Someone's gotta make sure the druids know where we are.

By the way, Sharpe is fully waiting back where they met the squirrel, so don't wait up on me for this scene.

Does Ne'charri still have the letter we were supposed to deliver?

Dead Guy - KAC: 20/19 Fort: +11 Ref: +6 Will: +7 HP: 59/59 THP: 0/7 Hero: 1/3 | Perception: +7 A skinless hand slams down on the breakfast table as the corpse made an terrible choking sound and it struggled to get its noose mangled throat into a state able to speak. "Krrhk! Alive! We... find! One way or other!" It managed after a moment. Something close to but not quite the terrible fire flaring to life in its single eye. The corpse stood up in a jerky spasm as though it were about to go sprinting off to address the matter on its lonesome but whatever passed for common sense in that necrotic brain restrained it for the time being. "Nrrn-hhh-important! Rex... Family... Important!" The words and concepts were an awful jumble coming out of the corpse's mouth. There was too much going on for it to simply chew through implacably as was its want. It did not take the most cunning mind to sort out what about Rexus' situation had sparked such a reaction in the shambling remains of Guy Arist-Lavigne. Its grasp on abstract concepts, such as finding an esoteric advantage among a den of dissident scholars, was shaky at best. However, the idea of being able to reunite Rexus with his family or, at the very least, give one of the living souls that had taken it in some closure had struck something deep inside its stilled heart.

Sharpe - Dog - AC: 28 TAC: 18 FF: 22 CMD: 26 Fort: +8 Ref: +14 Will: +11 HP: 76/76 Narrative: 4 | Perception: +14 "That could have gone worse," Sharpe noted, not mentioning exactly how he thought the conversation with a squirrel would go. Now it was only a matter of the squirrel remembering that it had promised to fetch the druids. At a command, Dog knelt and allowed Sharpe to slide off his loyal porter's back. He grabbed his musket and slung it over his back. The trusty firearm was not exactly the most dangerous of his implements but it was the one the druids were most likely to recognize. Best let them fixate on the weapons they understood as opposed the openly carrying the ones they did not. "Hey! Ne'charri! The squirrel said it would bring the druids to us! Better not go wandering in their territory without permission."

Is a Collective Wraith something you'd be willing to tolerate?

Sounds like a good plan if the squirrel does not respond favorably.

Sharpe - Dog - AC: 28 TAC: 18 FF: 22 CMD: 26 Fort: +8 Ref: +14 Will: +11 HP: 76/76 Narrative: 4 | Perception: +14 Sharpe sat back on Dog's back, pointedly not grabbing his musket or anything similar. The first rule of having any particular expertise was knowing when to shut up and let other people step in... and talking to squirrels fell well outside of Sharpe's areas of expertise. He kept his eyes on the surrounding underbrush and off the carnage. At the best of times, Sharpe was not the firmest believer that large scale violence really achieved anything worthwhile. Against humans or animals, slaughter was just wasteful.

Perception check

Sharpe - Dog - AC: 28 TAC: 18 FF: 22 CMD: 26 Fort: +8 Ref: +14 Will: +11 HP: 76/76 Narrative: 4 | Perception: +14 "We need to get that letter to the druids first," Sharpe said, from his customary seat atop Dog's wooden back. He was rummaging around in one of the drawer for a flask of cool tea. Unscrewing the top, he took a long pull before offering it down to Ne'charri and Keeper. "Our pull back in Catrico might not mean much out here and I'd rather treat with those we have an in with first."

Sharpe - Dog - AC: 28 TAC: 18 FF: 22 CMD: 26 Fort: +8 Ref: +14 Will: +11 HP: 76/76 Narrative: 4 | Perception: +14 "I'd say post-haste, but if your bones really are that achy perhaps after a nap?" Sharpe teased the older man, giving him a light elbow to the ribs. "I've still got my samples from the jaunt into the Ethereal. Those should serve as a rather nice gift if we want to make a good impression with the druids. Dog is already all packed up and ready to go."

Rasalhague - KAC: 18 Fort: +9 Ref: +8 Will: +3 HP: 20/20 Hero: 1/3 | Perception: +3 Rushing into the room, Ras immediately went to try and grab the nearest of the awful little gremlins and ran headlong into perhaps the simplest and most pernicious curse on the material plane. As he snatched at the pugwampi, his foot came down on a bottle that had been knocked to the floor. He could have sworn it had not been there a moment before. The bottle rolled out from under him and Ras fell into the table, hands closing on empty air. "Shit!" Ras managed around some bruised ribs. Quickly, he threw up a hand and called upon the spell he had been gifted on the first day. A shimmering plane of seemingly insubstantial force manifested between him and the vicious dog-thing. Action 1: Stride Action 2: Try to grapple, missing with an 8 Action 3: Cast Shield as an innate cantrip

Rasalhague - KAC: 18 Fort: +9 Ref: +8 Will: +3 HP: 20/20 Hero: 1/3 | Perception: +3 Ras drew in a steadying breath, his unreal flames flaring to life with the fresh air before he pulled the broom out of the door and threw it open. Immediately, he threw a hand out, fingers upwards in a claw shape. A spot on the storeroom's floor rippled with sudden heat distortion before long tongues of fire began to lick upwards. A wave of heat poured off the sudden column of flame as it crackled and roared with the insatiable hunger of raw combustion and threw everything in the room into harsh illumination. Seeing Ras sheepishly light a torch paled in comparison to the twisting spike that he called forth now to reach up for the timbers of the ceiling. Demonstrating a surprising amount of fine control, Ras' hand snapped into a closed fist and the fires guttered out before it could light anything important on fire. "Get 'em!" Ras shouted. Area of scorching column marked in red. Previous Channel Elements spent.

Sharpe - Dog - AC: 28 TAC: 18 FF: 22 CMD: 26 Fort: +8 Ref: +14 Will: +11 HP: 76/76 Narrative: 4 | Perception: +14 "Druids? Betrayal? Were they cooperating with our lovely imperial revanchists before?" Sharpe asked, curiosity piqued by the unstated context of Ne'charri's request. He was not idealistic enough turn down the acquisition of new allies on the grounds of their past ties without due consideration but feeling out the shape of this ill-conceived conspiracy was useful. "Regardless, I'd much rather pursue a fresh lead than attempt to sort through a mountain of old supply receipts for a handful of clues."

Sounds like a good plan!

Dead Guy - KAC: 20/19 Fort: +11 Ref: +6 Will: +7 HP: 51/59 THP: 0/7 Hero: 1/3 | Perception: +7 The dead man sagged under Zea's light touch, as though it legs might give way and it would collapse. Its shoulder trembled as its face screwed up in a difficult expression As with any expression on the corpse's visage save for the clarion creases of a furious mask, reading the details took a bit of creative interpretation. Was it trying to cry through tear ducts long since seared closed? "Hhh-hurts... less... Hope hurts less," It rasped to Zea. It was a vain hope, about as hollow as the creature itself. Even so, much like the kindness it had been shown by the Ravens, it could not afford to let go of anything that gave it even fleeting relief from the rage and pain that propped it up and let it continue to put one foot in front of the other. There was no telling what would happen to the corpse if that internal metaphysical chemistry tipped over too far in the other direction but denying it what little relief it could find was a greater cruelty still.

Dead Guy - KAC: 20/19 Fort: +11 Ref: +6 Will: +7 HP: 51/59 THP: 0/7 Hero: 1/3 | Perception: +7 "Hrrk-Aye-de-olo-gee," The corpse parroted around a mouthful of crusty bread that it was steadily turning into a fine paste. It still did not seem to consider the more traditional foodstuffs served by the living to the living as truly edible, but it seemed to like to be included at meals. A good chunk of gristly meat or the thick heel of a loaf of bread was enough to keep it entirely happy. "Nnrn-Iddy...Iddyolgy." Its head swiveled to regard Rexus. His long story about a journey to becoming comfortable in his own skin seemed a bit lost on the corpse... as were most things beyond the immediate. The corpse did not have much in the way of judgements to pass, especially when it came to the difficult points of the experiences of the living but something was rattling around in its skull for a moment, single eye squinting as it reached for something. "Hrm-Ideology..." The moment passed and the corpse returned to placidly chewing on the bread, crumbs tumbling down its front as it lapsed into about as 'contemplative' a silence as it was capable of.

I think I'm ready to move on if the others are.

Sharpe - Dog - AC: 28 TAC: 18 FF: 22 CMD: 26 Fort: +8 Ref: +14 Will: +11 HP: 76/76 Narrative: 4 | Perception: +14 "We're going to need more than 'a few laborers' before we finish even the first stages. Woodcutters, masons, carpenters... You have permission to hire as needed within our budgets. Be sure to include good hazard pay. We're still not entirely secure out here and I want to remain on good terms with the skilled labor we can draw from..." Sharpe trailed off, deciding to rip the bandage off instead of letting the inevitable question get any more awkward. He was sure they had been introduced at some point but could not remember for the life of him. In his defense, Sharpe's life had become profoundly busy of late and details inevitably slipped through his grasp from time to time. "What's your name?"

Dead Guy - KAC: 20/19 Fort: +11 Ref: +6 Will: +7 HP: 51/59 THP: 0/7 Hero: 1/3 | Perception: +7 The corpse shook its head a little unsteadily, "Nnn-no." There was a long pause, the single eyelid twitching as a detail tried to sort itself in the corpse's mind. It painstakingly reviewed the limited exchange with its limited attention trying to identify the thing that was standing out as wrong to some fragment of its scattered awareness. "Hrrk-nn-not spots, not... Fff-freckles, has freckles." Another long pause as the expression shifted and, for a fleeting moment and despite the dreadful damage to its face, the corpse almost looked human again. The voice that came out of it sounded almost whole, coming from somewhere unimaginably far away. "Freckles, like her mother." But that glimmer of what it might have once been was gone almost immediately and there was just the corpse standing before Zea, a plaintive look upon those ruined features. It could shrug off clubs and blades, stride towards armed and armored enemies with a single-minded determination that did not care about danger or numbers but here the abomination was worse than helpless. "Puh-please?"

No, plumbing is going to need a lot of planning and similar while guns will be expensive and time consume and probably be his next downtime project.