In the streets of Shriekpot...Niklas knows that now it is time to run like the littlest female puppy of the litter, though he is unwilling to leave his brave new chair friend in the lurch - he grabs the chair with one leg and tries to escape!
[Niklas' escape roll: 1-
1]
[Chair-Hater's pursuit roll: 6]
Before Niklas can even turn around, the chair-hater has caught up with him, grabbing at the wooden chair that Niklas is currently holding on to.
[Chair-Hater's chair destruction roll: 5+1]
He pulls the chair out of Niklas' grasp, throws it upward, then, as it is about to land, headbutts it in half. Then he snaps the individual parts of the chair into smaller fragments, breaking each into no less than three and no more than eight fragments. For a moment, Niklas is really glad he isn't made out of wood. Then he notices yet another chair fly out of the window of the tavern, flying along the street and skidding rapidly toward the crazed man.
[Chair-Hater's dodge roll: 1+
1-
1]
The chair-hater doesn't notice the chair's approach, and it promptly sweeps him off his feet, sending him falling to the ground backwards.
[Chair-Hater's endurance roll: 2]
He appears to be visibly bleeding from his head now. Also, he is screaming louder than before. Judging by the expression on his face, this is mostly due to his anger reaching previously unseen levels. He tries to get up, but slips in his own blood, which obviously impedes his progress.
"CURSE YOU, CHAIRS!"On the deck of the Second Shank...Sigmund, upon finding out that his new snake probably harbors only ill intentions toward him, comes to a conclusion about the people in this town - they are a confusing, frightening lot and mean him nothing but the very worst they can muster.
"So, it appears that common folk in this town carry dangerous magical elements. I think that if I ever have to press the button, I will do so just before throwing this to an enemy. Thanks for the information.""Welcome."Sigmund then goes over to the part of the deck where the aftcastle begins, grabbing a barrel on the way. He notices it seems to have something in it, though it is difficult to say what exactly. Some kind of strange sludge? Regardless, he moves it over to the aftcastle with him, standing between it and a wall. He is about to cast a spell, but suddenly
Mark appears, offering him a harpoon. Sigmund takes it and sets it down next to himself.
"I don't know what do you want, but I won't help you kill people without reason."Mark is unimpressed. Or at least that's the way he looks - very difficult to read the guy, Sigmund finds. Oh well. Magic time!
[Sigmund's magic roll: 6]
He channels the magic from the piece of paper, willing a breeze to blow toward him. And a breeze appears! For a moment. Then it abruptly stops. Then it comes from another direction. Then it becomes like a miniature whirlwind. Then it stops again. Then air suddenly flies away from Sigmund's vicinity as though Sigmund were some kind of atmospheric pariah. And then a powerful wind moves the air back into place with a loud whoosh. And then the whole process repeats itself, with the degree of each step varying each time. Quite the pickle, Sigmund supposes.
In the icy waters of the Sea of Pleasant Winds...Scott moves out of the water as quickly as possible, grabbing the highly flammable barrel of grease and moving over to the ship that provided him with the highly dangerous honey, setting it down in the spot where the barrel of honey formerly was. He then sets the thing on fire.
[Pyromaniac destruction roll: 2]
As the grease begins to burn in the barrel, he slowly steps off the ship. He notices that the barrel doesn't appear to be falling apart or anything - the grease fire is currently contained within it. Hm. Not as effective as one might have hoped. Also, somebody appears to have seen him. A sailor on the ship, looks like.
"Hey! What's happening here? Why is that barrel on fire? And where's the damn honey gone?"Inside the Webbed Toe...Kevin keeps conversing with his two current companions while the two other mages telekinetically wrestle over a particularly heavy oaken table. He finally busts out his bookstore heist story.
"Well, the chair golem guy that I'm looking for pulped a first load of guards and made them into sandwiches, which another companion then ate. Then I killed some more, but after we managed to break into the attic where the guy stored his books, there was a whole load of them and I got magically catapulted into a nearby building. I played dead, which isn't hard without a heartbeat, and got buried, then dug up, then they wanted to cut me up due to my... special structure and I got released because the pulping of all of my limbs was enough of a punishment. Some smith guy fixed me up. We have some sort of undead skeletal surgeon, but he's... a little odd. If he repairs you, you end up a monstrosity. And I'm a jester, not a freak!""Quite the tale," Lizzie says after a pause, toying with a wine glass she clearly can't drink from.
"Could use some embellishment. Maybe you should have one of these," Stephen says, digging around in one of his pockets and producing something very similar to a signet ring, but with some kind of mechanism where a gem would normally be, offering it to Kevin.
"Put this on. It's a nifty little thing, it is. An 'inebriation dial'. You turn the knob it has and parties happen, heh.""Definitely in my top 3 of this century's inventions, I must say. I would have offered one of mine, but I seem to have forgotten to bring more than one, sadly. Anyway, back to the current topic, you were caught, you say? What about the rest of your associates? Did you acquire what you wanted?"