In the back room of Brenwicke's Books...Kevin thinks about the situation at hand, and instantly comes to a reasonably apt description.
"Well, fuck."Sigmund would say something as well, but he's too busy enacting a madcap scheme.
[Proper use of flaming bolts roll: 1]
He tries to set a bolt on fire, and it kinda works! It works really well! Making sure that the fire's not going out, he loads it into the crossbow carefully.
The crossbow is now on fire, Sigmund notes. This may or may not be good. He aims the thing at the six-armed guard and fires!
The bolt, being rather burnt, doesn't take too well to getting fired. Due to being on fire. And due to the crossbow being on fire. Guess that might not have been the best idea.
[Sigmund vs. Six-Armed Guard: 4+1-
1-
1 vs. 3+
2-
1]
Something seems to have gone terribly wrong, Sigmund deduces. Maybe he let the bolt burn too long before firing. Maybe it's the fact that the crossbow's currently on fire and it's difficult to properly aim it as a result. The bolt misses, though he has to admit it was a pretty close thing even as he juggles the crossbow like a hot potato.
Well, at least the crossbow seems to be in fairly decent condition, considering it's been on fire for a good minute. Hm.
Scott decides that he needs to pin this guy. So he picks up a harpoon and moves to attack the guy.
[Pin: Scott vs. Six-Armed Guard: 2 vs. 1+
2+
1-
1]
As Scott moves to attack the guard, he finds his harpoon swatted away as the guard flails at him until he decides to take his business elsewhere.
Finally, Kevin, supposing that things were better when the guard wasn't so dang upright, tries to trip him up again!
[Trip: Kevin vs. Six-Armed Guard: 5 vs. 5+
1]
However, just like Scott, he backs off from his leg-sweeping ambitions when the tip of the guisarme flashes menacingly about ten centimeters from his head.
The guard, noticing things going rather well for him right now, decides to back right off, heading out the back entrance, leaving the burglars-to-be in a room with one guisarme less and one flaming crossbow more than what they started out with. Once the guard is out, the voice of his companion rings out again to Sigmund, who can hear every word all too clearly.
"What- oh, thank the gods you're alive, bud! I was afraid they'd gotten you, the way you were lying there a moment. Oh shit, they sure did a number on your arm."There is a moment of silence.
"Oh, they still had that mushroom crap on them? Damn, but that stuff was nasty. You alright?"Another moment of silence.
"Gods-damned bastards. We gotta-oh, what? Oh, right, keep my voice down. Sorry, got excited."His voice sinks to a murmur, and is now quite difficult to make out without edging dangerously close to the door.
In the City of the Dead...Darren is quite interested in all this town stuff, yes, but he also thinks he's got stuff to do here.
"Yeah, and with a platform with that, he's certainly got my vote.""Aw, don't make fun of the poor guy. I think he was the hardest hit of all when this city went under. It was his city, after all."Darren, in dire need of a new line of questioning, goes ahead and asks Danielle about his mission.
"So where, if you were me, would you be looking for the crown? You said something about the deep dwellers, so just poke around there a little?""Well, the very deepest you can go is the engineer catacombs - they ran out of space in their walled enclave to store their dead, so they decided to dig downward, and these are only rumors, sure, but I hear they go deep. Really deep. But to get there, I guess you need to go through the engineer quarter - and you can find that through one of the engineer gates - like that one over there," she indicates toward a place down the street. Darren isn't quite sure what exactly he's seeing, but it's certainly something large. And metallic.
"But they don't let us through - we're not supposed to wander in there. They've got machines - enchanted ones. And those can kill us just as well as they can mortals. And I don't see why they would just let you through peacefully, either," she explains. Darren thinks that if she could, she would shrug apologetically.
In Erin's quarters...Morton, having laid Erin to rest, exits the quarters as quietly as a desk can, which is not very, and looks for something useful in cleaning up vomit. He returns to the deck, only to find a scene quite similar to how he left it. Art's still talking to Evelyn and the Artiste, and Tailor Craig and the Captain are still at the puddle of vomit. And Morton doesn't see anything like a mop anywhere.
"I CAN DO IT!""It's a liquid. It will be quite difficult.""Oh, PISH POSH. How HARD can it BE? Just a little CONCENTRATION is what I NEED!"The Captain bugs out his eyes, adopting a very intense, mysterious posture as he eyes the puddle of stomach contents.
"Okay, maybe not THAT level of CONCENTRATION, but WATCH!"[Captain telekinesis roll: 5+1-
1]
The vomit collects into a single, large glob that rises significantly from the ground, forming a rather impressive, if still pretty disgusting vomit-sphere. The Captain grins widely as he, with a gentle hand gesture, makes it pass over the railing until it is a significant distance from the ship and well into the bay, then releases his hold. The vomit-sphere then loses cohesion, becoming a chaotic morass of unexpected emesis once more, dropping into the sea harmlessly.
"SEE? You SEE?""Oh yes, most impressive, Captain. Certainly the mark of a highly skilled mage-hand at the very least," Tailor Craig says, applauding with his claw-hands.
"Thank you, THANK YOU. You're TOO kind," the Captain says, beaming more expressively than usual.