With no immediate threats around, Miran darts over to the mangled corpse of the barbarian to reach for the pouch he is wearing. She rips it off, sticks her wet index finger into the dust it contains, and puts the digit under her nose so she can smell the substance. “As I suspected, this is healing dust!” she declares to the room in general. Definitely something she should get the recipe of. Not wasting time, she heads over to Cizixkler, pours half of the stuff into his nose and pinches shut the other nostril. With a vague expression of disgust, she pulls his tentacles out of the way, puts her lips over the filled nostril and blows hard, propelling the medecine into the patient's lungs. She heads over to Rahal - it would be terrible to just let all that blood go to waste - and notices with surprise that he's still alive. The minotaur, too, receives an infusion of the other half of healing powder.
The coppery smell of blood tainting the air becomes too much to handle, especially since she has gotten some vile-tasting minotaur hair into her mouth. She heads back to the barbarian corpse covered in crimson stains. “I am feeling a bit peckish.” In an instant, the blonde vampire is crouched over the still warm corpse, and loud slurping and sucking noises echo through the cavern. When she straightens again, her face is smeared with gore, which she washes of with river water.
“All things considered, this went terrible,“ she declares with great poise, as if she hadn't just been seen tearing out half of a man's throat with her teeth. “As I see it, our main problem was being caught out of position. For most of the battle, only a few of us were fighting most of them,” she ponders, marching up and down with a finger to her chin in a thinking pose.
The dignified, competent impression she is going for suffers a bit from the squelching noises the mud makes with each of her steps as she struts around.
“What we desperately need,” she continues, “are some barricades that control access to our lair. These obstacles need only buy us enough time to get into proper combat formation, not stop the invasion outright. Oh, and they should be noisy to get past too. We can't have someone just sneak up on us. Traps would be good too. Hmm. They had better be manually activated so they don't go to waste on a summon, though.”
The small vampire would probably have said more, but at this point, she trips over a fallen body and stumbles. Looking down, she seems to remember for the first time that she is on a corpse-littered battlefield. A thoughtful expression appears on her face as she looks at the dead bodies. “Say, do we have any tanners?”
So yeah, trying to get our comatose patients up earlier with the healing powder. I figure we'll need their shifts.
Shift 1:
After the scary battle, Miran hurries to finish getting her workshop - a glorified kitchen, really - set up.
Continue building workspace in upper right corner of exploded chamber.
Shift 2:
The vampire spends the next shift arming herself properly. Strange smells rise into the air as she grinds, boils, and mixes various ingredients into unwholesome, viscuous concoctions. She cautiously drips her creation into sponge-like dried mushrooms for storage and handling.
Brew Molotov and Acid potions in equal numbers. (Cost 20 each potion; Ingredients worth 160 available)
Shift 3:
Miran wanders the lair to see if someone else needs help with a job, preferably with fortifying the lair. Should she not find anyone, she will rest in her coffin.
Assist others or sleep.
Poll
7 (10.8%)
Author
Topic: Dungeon Keeper: The RPG (Read 89941 times)