[Lynx Cat]

Morgan raises an eyebrow in a genuine exp​ression of surprise. "What? Hey, who said you weren't useful? Pretty damn sweet job I remember you doing when fighting back there. And you look like you're slippery enough to help a lot in a discreet sort of mission, if that's what we end up doing. Well, at least you're not clumsy at all. And anyway, we're a team here - we have to be, like you said, not that I'm not glad we are - so it's not like you have to obey us or anything. We all get a say, we're just throwing ideas around here!" The gnome waves his hands with agitation to stress his point.

[Fugu]

The guard changes several times. Meanwhile, the dinginess of the quarters prove no obstacle to the exhausted fugitives' rest. They awake refreshed--Morgan eager to demonstrate the meaning of awesome, He-Who-Watches prepared to do what must be done, and Glasgow ready to kick some alien ass.

[Lynx Cat]

"Ahhh... nothing better than the smell of renewed magical energy in the morning!" Morgan sniffs deeply, looking ecstatic, and then jumps to an eager tone. "So, let's do this! What's it gonna be, cats or dragons? Stealth or war? Either way, I'm tired of just sitting around!"

[Benevolance]

"We are outnumbered and on unfamiliar ground. Stealth would suit our situation best. How long will your spell last?"

[Lynx Cat]

"Not much, just over 10 minutes, and I can comfortably cast it over all three of us just twice. So we'd have to do most of our sneaking the old way, actually. I'd guess I'm the least sneaky one of us, but then again I could change my appearance to that of a really short techie or something else that won't draw suspicion. That lasts a lot more, about ten times as much. We'd have to save the invisibility for the more critical times. Perhaps it would be good to explore a bit of the ship each day."

[Benevolance]

"Yes, you're right. We have a few days time before we must make a move. It would be good to take our time, familiarize ourselves with this vessel. And you can get us in and out of here without detection?"

[Lynx Cat]

"Yes, but with a couple itsy bitsy issues. First, I can do both sides of the trip a couple times in a pinch, but I'd rather not do that more than once if possible, to save my more powerful magicks for emergencies. And also because of the second issue." Morgan looks down and fidgets with some of the wires from his clothing, as if trying to avert some topic. "See, it's nothing big, but... it isn't exactly guaranteed that we'll arrive exactly where we want to. I mean, the more I know the target location, the more likely we are to get there safe and sound, and the couple hours or so we spent in that one storage room should give us a lot of leeway, but there's still a little chance that we could end up somewhere else. Inside or outside the ship. So I'd rather avoid it if possible, though it seems like our main ticket out of this room. So we'd better do all of our exploring in one go each day, if we're gonna rely on that to get in and out anyway."

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches raises an eyebrow.

"Outside the ship? From what I understand of 'space', as they refer to it, that would spell instant death for all of us. While I am not adverse to risking life in order to gain freedom.. I would think that such a risk would demand a bigger pay-off than exploring the ship a little."

He-Who-Watches then rubs his chin for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts.

"I suppose it would be worth trying at least once, to find out wether or not that warehouse in question remains unlocked while not in use as a cell."

[Lynx Cat]

"It's... theoretical. We're much more likely to actually get where we want to. Just thought I'd let you know, but you know how it goes... you could fall from your horse any random day, break your neck and die, but you're not gonna worry about that, right?" Morgan underscores the point with a forced smile.

"So, are we trying that? I suppose we'd better protect ourselves from prying eyes first with that little trick I used back when we escaped our own world."

Morgan looks to his fellows, waiting for their response, and begins chanting a spell after a brief pause.

(OOC: Unless anyone objects, I'll cast invisibility on the three of us and then will Teleport us to that storage room.)

[Benevolance]

Glasgow nods for the gnome to continue.

[Fugu]

Morgan, standing on tiptoe, traces a symbol of occlusion over each of Glasgow's eyelids and mutters an incantation. Glasgow vanishes from sight. Morgan performs the same over He-Who-Watches, then over himself. With only minor awkwardness, the three of you manage to join hands, and Morgan hisses the magic word.

There is an anxious pause. Morgan tentatively opens one eye, then sighs in relief. You are all in the storage room. Glasgow, too, sighs in relief, because Morgan's nervous grip is no longer cutting off the circulation to his fingers.

The room is as you left it. The giant sliding door is shut, but Glasgow verifies that it is unlocked. The press of a button would open it.

(11 minutes of invisibility remain.)

This post has been edited by Fugu: 07 February 2007 - 08:00 PM

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches whispers to his two companions.

"I believe Glasgow and I are better at moving around unheard, and of the two, I'm the best at hand-to-hand combat, shall it turn to that. Therefore, I should probably be the one to open the door and look right out the room, to see what's what. Morgan, I suggest you try to commit this room to memory. You did study our cell before we left, correct?"

Assuming no one objects, I'll press the button that Glasgow indicated would open the door. After waiting 3 seconds, if nothing untowards happens, I'll slip quietly out of the room to see what's what.

This post has been edited by Barak: 08 February 2007 - 12:42 PM

[Lynx Cat]

"Okie dokie, captain!" Morgan whispers giddily. "I was thinking that myself. And don't worry, I think the past day was enough to commit our room to memory."

"I'll... be on that crate by the camera, when you come back." Morgan moves to the designated location and starts focusing on several details within the room, trying to commit them to memory.

[Benevolance]

Glasgow nods agreement. Belatedly he realizes his companions cannot see him and whispers, "That sounds good."

[Fugu]

The door grinds open. He-Who-Watches waits, then creeps silently into the corridor. It is abandoned. Glasgow moves to join the monk, but finds that he lacks the monk's ability to walk on thin metal without making a sound. As soon as he applies his weight to a footstep, it creaks noisily.

He-Who-Watches move silently: 13 + 18 = 31
Glasgow move sliently: 1 + 5 = 6.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 08 February 2007 - 02:39 PM

[Benevolance]

Glasgow freezes and curses inwardly. He glances around to see if his noise alerted anyone. A boat on the sea at least has the noise of the ocean to cover your steps. If nobody appears to have noticed, he will try moving again. Much more carefully this time.

[OOC - And if anybody happens to walk along the corridor that Glasgow occupies, he will try to coordinate his steps with those of others. Sense motive +12. Move silent +5.]

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 09 February 2007 - 03:42 PM

[Fugu]

Despite his extra care, Glasgow cannot overcome the floor's tendency to complain about any and all weight that is applied to it. He wonders if He-Who-Watches is somehow floating.

Glasgow's re-try: 7 + 5 = 12

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches winces invisibly as he makes out the steps of his companion.

I shouldn't have assumed he'd be as silent as I. He may be an elf, but he hasn't got my dedication.

He'll then do his best to stay about 15 feet in front of Glasgow, ready to act if anyone should come by.

Remember... This type of magic dissolves if you act violently. Do so as a last resort.

[Fugu]

With paranoia honed over a solid 24 hours of escape, He-Who-Watches and Glasgow creep through the dark halls. Only the barest bit of power is spared to light these empty, oppressive tunnels. More storage rooms line the sides in an orderly, if battered, fashion. Glasgow mentally logs the number and orientation of the intersecting corridors he passes, attempting to build a mental map. They appear to be aligned according to some kind of fractal used in no architecture he has ever recorded. But if the old pirate knows an obtuse angle from his own arse, the pattern isn't sustainable for any practical function. Hallways would get so close together as to be redundant, and from what he's seen, these humans aren't form over function types. So why...

He-Who-Watches peers ahead. The light, or rather the darkness, seems different up ahead. He draws close enough to perceive that the corridor abruptly ends in some kind of cliff. The monk creeps to the edge and looks down. Glasgow, too, notices the drop off and cautiously hunkers down before it, careful not to hunker right on top of his companion. The shaft plummets not straight down, but down and back in towards the two spies. The far wall would make an exhilarating and incalculably dangerous slide. The shaft is lit just like the corridors, and in fact, both elves make out doors like those they have passed hanging sideways on the walls of the shaft. The two sit in puzzlement for a moment.

He-Who-Watches notices his hands fade into view where they rest on the floor. His forearms follow. Stifling fleeting memories of the dying McCale vanishing beyond reach, He-Who-Watches glances beside him, looking for Glasgow. Before his eyes, a single gold tooth winks into view, then a grin as broad as a sail. Glasgow manifests behind the smile with a countenance of great satisfaction. Wordlessly, he stands, and confidently walks off the cliff.

No sooner has he done so than he is standing almost upside down on the near wall of the shaft. Indeed, the pattern of the corridors was unsustainable--in two dimensions. A glance at the nearest intersection ahead confirms that turning the corner has reset the algorithm.

Mindful of their renewed visibility, Glasgow and He-Who-Watches resume exploring. Based on the angle of the corner, Glasgow guesses that the ship is triangular (at least on one axis), and judging from the length of the sides, there must be a considerably sized space at the center, below their feet. Glasgow and He-Who-Watches discuss this in whispers, and resolve to search for a way down.

They work they way back toward where, on the previous side, the wariti ship had landed, and discover an area that appears to be filled with loading bays and docks of various sizes. They find no passage beyond the docks. Apparently, the ship ends here. Searching back in the other direction, they reach the threshold of an area that looks similar to where they were being held prisoner. Voices within the area ward off the explorers, but Glasgow's sense of space tells him that the area lines up with its counterpart on the previous side of the ship. Perhaps the outer floor is divided into strips?

Near this threshold, He-Who-Watches notices a door unlike any of the others seen so far. The down arrow button beside it summons the Xintus word in their minds: elevator.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 21 February 2007 - 02:46 PM

[Barak]

Turning towards the other elf, the monk raises an eyebrow as he speaks.

"We have not found much, but the invisibility has expired. Shall we return to our gnomish companion? I daresay that the risk of running into a sizeable force at the bottom of this.. Elevator is probably pretty high. I am perfectly capable of defending myself as is, and could probably snatch a weapon out of someone's hands for your use, if you so desire."

[Fugu]

The two elves return to Morgan's hiding place, which he has now studied carefully enough that teleportation in and out is reliable. After a day's rest back in their cell, the party warps out again to complete exploration of the ship. Safely beyond the reach of mundane eyes, Morgan, He-Who-Watches, and Glasgow return to the elevator. While hushedly deliberating how to proceed, a deep groan builds from below them, and cranks its way up to right behind the elevator door. The door whooshes down into the floor, and a single cormus, gun in hand, strides casually out of the chamber and down the corridor.

Seizing the moment, Glasgow shoves his companions onto the empty platform and dives in behind them, just before the door returns, sealing them inside a decrepit six-walled shaft, atop a broad platform with a slender pedestal in the center. The pedestal bears five buttons, which are marked, from highest to lowest, 'S', 'OC', 'IC', '<>', and '!'. On the pockmarked wall, beside the closed portal, is inscribed the symbol 'S'.

[Benevolance]

Glasgow itches the bridge of his nose while scrutinizing the panel. "We're on S. The other symbols are our destinations."

[Decipher script +16 to see if he can glean which level might be engineering or the bridge].

[Lynx Cat]

"Ooh!" Morgan googles his eyes invisibly, straining his whispered words. "Didn't think I'd see a dungeon puzzle so soon! I like those! Well, not that much... but, hey, at least it's something different."

He makes an affectation of ponderous and highly concentrated thinking, more out of career-built instinct than the presence of an audience, which cannot see him anyway. "I would say... if this particular pattern conforms to geometric standards, then the button labeled 'OC' will take us to the floor directly below this one. Or is it a code? Maybe the buttons are backward!" He sits down in a corner, ostensibly to think, but deeply just to let his more thought-oriented fellows figure it out.

This post has been edited by Lynx Cat: 02 April 2007 - 06:15 PM

[Benevolance]

"I think..." begins Glasgow. He goes silent for a few moments more. He begins again.

"You have both seen how it fails to adhere to a normal geometric principles. Why should we expect the elevator operate any differently? I think this second button will take us to the outer core of the ship; the button immediately following takes us to the inner core. Unfortunately, I do not know which will better suit our purposes." He sighs.

"Were this a normal vessel, I would guess that the engine controls would be interior to the vessel; the command deck would be on the exterior. But this ship does not conform to anything I have experienced before. My guess is only that: a guess."

"Morgan cannot keep this invisibility up indefinately and we will eventually reach port. Time is against us. Lacking something more substantial, I offer that we should start at the outer core and work our way inward."

[Lynx Cat]

"Good enough for me. Time is of the essence!"

If nobody else presses the "OC" button after a few seconds, Morgan does.

[Benevolance]

Glasgow quietly but impatiently hums an sea chanty as the lift travels to its destination.

[Fugu]

With just a bit more noise than you're comfortable with, the platform descends wearily down the shaft about 10 meters. Fortunately, the hum of the ship builds as you descend, soon drowning out the sound of the lift itself, and Glasgow's tune. The platform stops in front of a doorless threshold marked 'OC'. An orange-uniformed human shifts from place to place on a web of catwalks, fiddling with scattered consoles. Many meters below, suspended in mid-air, hangs a gigantic spiked crystal, brightly glowing ice-blue. Its innumerable protrusions vary in size; the tallest extend up and between the walkways, some even higher than eye-level. The cavernous space is quite warm, and smells of electrical fire.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 09 April 2007 - 12:05 PM

[Lynx Cat]

Morgan looks intently at the human, trying to judge his distance and level of attention. If he's at least 10 meters away and/or looks concentrated on his job, he'll cast Detect Magic and scan the area. Otherwise, if that sounds unsafe, he'll whisper "We gotta do something about that guy... maybe a distraction."

[Barak]

"I am certain I could take him out, but that would make me visible."

[Benevolance]

"You're practically half-ghost, anyway..." murmers Glasgow to himself, still somewhat indignant at He Who Watches exceptional skill at moving discretely and quietly.

[Lynx Cat]

Morgan softly hushes his magics, pauses for a bit, and whispers again, still keeping his preternatural senses attuned to anything magical. "Doesn't matter now, I've done my trick. They're not around here... well, not in range anyway. We should keep looking."

[Fugu]

The chamber is a three-sided (technically five-sided) cylinder, like a giant Toblerone. The parallel faces are a couple hundred feet apart, and the rectangular sides are maybe a hundred feet in width. Each of the rectangular sides has a parallel web of metal catwalks many yards inward from it, and each of these catwalks has two elevator shafts and one oranged-uniformed human roaming about it. The second shaft on this side is at the other end of the chamber, past the human. Each of the six shafts extends further inward and becomes hidden among the spikes of the glowing crystal.

Occasionally, tendrils of electicity spark noisily up the cloudy peaks. The human seems to follow in the wake of the largest anomalies.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 10 April 2007 - 09:34 PM

[Benevolance]

"I'm not sure that McCale would have left the artifacts in here. What we need is a map of the ship. Morgan, you've spent the most time on the humans' computers - if we found you a terminal, do you think you could find us a layout?"

[Barak]

"McCale died on the other ship, not this one. Who knows where -these- humans would have brought the artifacts?"

[Lynx Cat]

"Well... I'm no expert, but I could give it a shot. At least I know how the thing works. Beats wandering through this huge ship at random anyway."

[Fugu]

The party returns to the upper level and furtively make their way to the loading bays. Morgan maintains his attunement to the relics, hoping for a lucky break. Nothing interrupts their passage through the dim halls.

The bays are unprotected, and stacked full of crates of all sizes. Each one has a squat computer terminal in the corner. As Glasgow hushedly beckons Morgan to a terminal, Morgan catches a whiff of familiarity. He sniffs twice. Something further down the hall is definitely magical.

Blood pumping, Morgan whizzes right past Glasgow and into a bay farther down. His eyes twinkle invisibly at a box some 16 feet up, at the top of a high stack. Within, he senses magic: the wand and the bowl.

[Lynx Cat]

"Guys! Guys!" Morgan excitedly whispers, trying to both be silent and yell at them, with barely anything intelligible coming out as a result. The clapping of an excited gnome's skipping is lightly audible as he tries to contain himself. "I found them! They're right here in this room! There, in that crate right over there!" He pauses for a couple seconds, stopping himself to remember why it doesn't make any sense to point, and adds: "I mean, the one on top of this one stack here." He lightly raps a crate near the bottom. "I'm sure of it! How do we open that thing?"

[Benevolance]

Glasgow maneuvers some boxes in the room to fashion an impromptu stair, then examines the box at the top of the stack. He opens the case to retrieve the wand and bowl, tucking them inside his clothing when they do not immediately become invisible at his touch.

[Open lock +14 if the case is locked]

This post has been edited by Benevolance: 17 April 2007 - 03:22 PM

[Fugu]

The crate contains foul-smelling used hotboxes. A quick search reveals the wand and bowl nestled within one of these. Glasgow wipes the wand clean of some red gooey stuff and tucks it into his clothing, but as he does the same to the bowl, but on the bottom side, rather than exposing the etched gold surface he expects, he reveals a rugged snow-white shell. As he clears the rim of red gunk, the illusion extends past the bowl's edge and forms a complete sphere, with the bowl itself as the southern hemisphere. Glasgow's hands feel only the bowl's ornately etched surface, but his eyes see an icy planet.

The poor light makes it difficult to tell, but the closer he looks, the more detail Glasgow can make out: tiny mountain ranges, minute frozen rivers... Suddenly, the geography clicks in the explorer's mind. That shoreline... those cliffs... This planet is his own.

Down below, Morgan and He-Who-Watches see a pure white ball glowing in mid-air. As they watch, a wisp of green light fades into view. The beam begins at a point on the globe's surface, and extends from the globe for several inches before becoming too faint to see. A smoky blue beam joins it, pointing straight out from a different location. A brighter but still faint red beam appears in a third spot, and an even brighter yellow beam in a fourth. All four beams, while askew from one another, point roughly in the same direction. Finally, a radiant silver beam appears, pointing in the opposite direction. Glasgow's chest reappears right in front of the silver beam, followed by the arm holding the globe aloft, and the rest of his body. He-Who-Watches and Morgan also become visible.

[Lynx Cat]

Morgan smiles broadly. "Ahh, perfect timing. Just the way I like it. C'mon, Glasgow, we're done here, let's pop back to our room before anyone comes."

Upon materializing inside the heroes' quarters/prison with his colleagues, Morgan will take a long good look at the artifacts, making full use of Detect Magic and Spellcraft, as well as experimenting with the command word learned from McCale. Hiding the items will be a priority if anyone's heard outside the door. Well, he'll wash them before anything else though.

[Benevolance]

Back in the holding cell Glasgow paces the room, impatient for Morgan's results.

[Fugu]

As Glasgow climbs down the stair of crates, the four weaker beams remain fixed in their orientation (which is in the general direction that the transport is traveling). The strong silver beam, however, follows Glasgow's chest wherever it goes. Quizzically, Glasgow removes the wand from his breast pocket, and the silver beam follows the wand's movements unerringly.

Back in the quarters, Morgan studies the artifacts for the third time in a week. Nothing can fool the bowl--its bright silver strand points directly at the wand wherever it goes. The command word, Elvish for 'lost', has no effect on the wand, or the image projected by the bowl. The image reveals no flaws in its representation of Jalah's surface, even to the keen vision of He-Who-Watches. The closer you can look without losing focus, the more detail you can see.

When Morgan focuses his attention on the relics' magical auras, he finds them as he remembered: the wand's faint air of divination, and the bowl's strong tones of conjuration. And yet the bowl's function is clearly divinatory. His puzzlement driving him to look harder, Morgan eventually uncovers the illusionary auras in place on both artifacts. Underneath, the bowl is in fact drenched in divination magic, while the wand puts forth gentle echoes of conjuration.

[Fugu]

With the wand and bowl safely concealed, and their bodies invisible, the fugitives teleport back to the storage room, and resume their exploration of the vessel. Unfortunately, Glasgow is unable to recall where a ship of this kind would keep its emergency craft, and so the group decides to explore the less trafficked areas first, and then move on if necessary.

The search moves at a decent pace. It takes a few stern whispers from Glasgow to get Morgan to stop humming to himself, but your passage seems to go unnoticed. You pass dozens of grimy storerooms, all varying degrees of empty. In the dock area, you wander past the wariti escape pod, and while it possess its own conventional engine, you cannot remember if the pod has its own tesser drive. Probably not.

At the very back of the ship is a gigantic room, completely empty and dark, that fits into the structure of the vessel in a weird way. As you enter, you hear small creatures scurrying away through the darkness. The only light comes from a set of softly backlit controls in one corner. Facing them is a threadbare high-backed chair. You guess that the room must be a kind of space forklift, detaching from the vessel to land on docks too small for the transport itself, and bring cargo up to where the ship waits in orbit. If commandeered, it would almost certainly be capable of landing on a planet or space station under its own power, but not of going much farther than that.

No further discoveries of significance are made in the aft portions of the ship.

[Fugu]

Leaving Morgan behind in the abandoned mini-transport, Glasgow and He-Who-Watches move on to search the remainder of the ship. The labryinthine quality of the corridors thickens with the possibility that the minotaur--or perhaps Theseus?--might lurk around the very next corner.

He-Who-Watches takes point. Blanketed by the rolling shadows of a softly thrumming duct fan, his owlish eyes gaze to the far end of the corridor. It is lined with inset hatch doors; the furthest of these sports a brace of cormi, one to each side, who hold rifles in a relaxed posture. They seem terribly bored. One of the nearer hatches opens, and a third cormus climbs out, half-eaten sandwich in hand. He closes his hatch and strolls away from He-Who-Watches to the end of the hall. Munching lazily, he turns, and exits the corridor with a casual nod to his fellows. Silently, He-Who-Watches withdraws, and suggests proceeding by another path.

Indirectly, the fugitives make their way from hall to hall, listening at doors, opening them when judged safe. Most of the forward periphery has been covered when Glasgow spots a lonely hatch on a hallway ceiling, marked, in Xintus, 'Emergency'. A thin window reveals an upturned room, no bigger than a second mate's quarters, with a cramped pilot's console at one end. It is without doubt an escape pod. As well as Glasgow can remember from his crash course in spaceflight, that means the ability to tesser at short ranges--once. Lacking their own tesser drives, human escape craft depend on their motherships to fuel the jump.

While Glasgow stands on tip-toe to get a better look at the controls, He-Who-Watches keeps watch, listening intently for approaching footsteps. Unfortunately, both are surprised by an astonished expletive from behind them.

Some 25 feet away, near a bend in the corridor, an orange-uniformed human stands agape at the two aliens. He turns to flee.

[Fugu]

Morgan

The dark, cavernous room is silent and oppressive. Suddenly, a heartbeat of dread intrudes directly into Morgan's mind, and he is unable to focus his attention on anything but the following words, which half-form in his mouth, one by one: Beware... Our enemies, too, have left heirs to the struggle... They will come for the keys... Beware...

The domination passes. Morgan recognizes the effect as a particularly cold and distant manifestation of a Sending spell.

[Benevolance]

The concealed knife springs to Glasgow's hand. "Silence him!" he whispers harshly at He Who Watches. Glasgow looks up and down the hallway for any other observers.

[Spot check +13]

[Fugu]

Glasgow spots no others in any direction.

[Spot check: d20 = 18 + 13 = 31]

[Lynx Cat]

Morgan jumps up, startled. Upon recognizing the faded thread of a communication spell, he attempts to pick it up and use the extradimensional opening it created to respond, before the thread is reeled back and the rift closes.

"Who are you?" he asks. "And where you are? Is there anything left of your folk? And where?"

He stands on the tip of his toes, head upturned, in an instinctive gesture, needlessly straining to listen to a sound that he wouldn't pick up with his ears anyway, and forcefully silencing the idea that this is a voice from long past... one that cannot respond.

[Barak]

With a slight nod to Glasgow, He-Who-Watches springs into action. Rushing with full speed towards the guard, he attempts a blow to the base of the spine, in a spot he learned long, long ago to hit in order to disable humanoids for a short period of time.

(OOC:Charge +15 to-hit, d10+1 non-lethal damage, attempt stunning attack (Fort save DC 17).

This post has been edited by Barak: 14 May 2007 - 12:26 PM

[Fugu]

He-Who-Watches and Glasgow

He-Who-Watches' outthrust palm knocks the human to the floor. The terrified techie writhes under the numbing effect of the blow, screaming in pain and fear, but manages to throw it off and scramble away to his feet. "HEEEELP!" he cries as he continues to flee.

Morgan

No new words come to you.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 14 May 2007 - 04:43 PM

[Benevolance]

"Grab him! Grab him!" Glasgow is suddenly trying to watch all directions at once, fearing that the techie's cries will attract help.

[Barak]

"Silence!"

While hissing the word to Glasgow, He-Who-Watches opens up on the poor guard, well-aware of the need to stop him.

(OOC: Furry of blows on the guard. First attack is also a stunning attack. (+13 to hit, d10+1 damage, Fort save DC 17). Second attack will be an attempted grapple +13 to-hit (touch attack). My grapple chack is +13 damage is still d10+1. If that failed, I'll reattempt with my third and fourth attack (+13 and +8 to hit). Once it succeeds, my remaining attack will be used as follows 1st, grapple check to pin him. Second (if available), I'll use a disarm action to remove anything on him that looks like a communicator. All damage dealt, by the way, is non-lethal.)

[Fugu]

He-Who-Watches yanks the human's retreating hand back and up, rendering the human powerless to do anything but whimper in pain, then spins him like a top into a vise-like embrace. Unable to breathe or cry out, the human squirms and kicks desperately, but cannot escape the smaller being's hold. The human's struggles grow fainter, until finally his head lolls forward onto his chest. Swiftly, He-Who-Watches lowers the human to the floor and checks the human's vital signs--he will live. Glasgow kneels down opposite He-Who-Watches and searches the man's clothes--he finds an ID badge (Alman Kol, Wyvern-Class Operations Specialist), a walkie talkie, a compact toolkit for technical repairs, and a half-eaten bag of what looks like beef jerky.

[Barak]

While searching the human's body, He-Who-Watches whispers at Glasgow.

"Are you any better at not being seen than at being silent? I'm confident I can avoid their eyes without the benefit of Morgan's spell. Can you?"

[Lynx Cat]

Morgan settles down after several seconds of listening. Damn. I should know, it's going to be a while before I get any response. Hey, at least it's good to know there's really someone out there, someone other than these... *aliens*. But the wait... damn, I *hate* waiting!

He paces around nervously for a little while, and then, deciding to make his wait (for both his companions and a possible magic-bound response) more bearable, he once again goes over the Tyger poem in his memory and the little tune he came up with for it, doing his best to keep his singing as hushed as possible. He does that while looking over the details in the room once more, just to make sure he's committed them to memory.

[Benevolance]

Glasgow liberates the walkie-talkie and the toolkit from the man. As an after-thought, he grabs the ID card. "I will do my best, but there was never much need to skulk around the seas."

The elf indicates the crumpled body. "We should hide him somewhere other than this corridor." He looks around for a maintenance closet or vacant room.

[Fugu]

As Glasgow stands, he hears at least two pairs of booted feet running close by, and getting louder. His eyes narrow. "Too late." Making urgent eyes to He-Who-Watches, he steals down the corridor, away from the approaching clamor.

The two elves take stock of their situation a few halls away, hurriedly planning their next move. The nervous consultation of two humans drifts on their heels.

"No, not dead. He's out cold."

"It's them. We shoulda let 'em rot out there!"

"How did they... Sarge, we have a 112, repeat, 112, advise..."

Continued flight in this direction will take the elves to Morgan. Further exploration will require some backtracking and finesse.

[Barak]

"Now that we have the objects, we should gather Morgan and attempt an escape in that pod you mentioned. Getting on that.. Nobodaddy of our own volition has to be better than in this craft. Once there, we can attempt to find something that can carry us elsewhere."

[Benevolance]

"I couldn't agree with your assessment more. Let's get Morgan and get out of here."

[Fugu]

Morgan is startled from his introspection when He-Who-Watches and Glasgow burst into the 'lift. Glasgow hastily describes the situation while He-Who-Watches half-helps-half-yanks Morgan to his feet and shoves him along. "Geez, you don't have to-" "SHHHH." commands the monk.

He-Who-Watches leads the way back through the crooked tunnels, swiftly picking a path around urgent human and wariti voices. After several twisting advances and a few hasty retreats to avoid discovery, the party huddles behind a corner, waiting for He-Who-Watches to signal that a pair of cormi and a wariti have passed. One of the humans warily stands watch in the corridor while his companions search a nearby storeroom. The human glances down the hall, where the foes of He-Who-Watches's memory might have noticed his shrouded half-face peeking round the corner near the floor. He-Who-Watches withdraws, and listens to the sounds of the human adjusting his grip on his gun, and stepping closer. The monk tenses, ready to strike the first (and second, and third) blow.

"Clear!" calls a human voice from within the storeroom. "Clear!" echoes the wariti's rattling strain. The approaching footsteps cease, turn, and return to their fellows. He-Who-Watches passes a single eye back into the corridor, and watches the three move on to another sector of the ship.

Upon seeing He-Who-Watches relax, Morgan can no longer stifle his questions. "How much furth-" Glasgow claps a hand over the irrepressible gnome's mouth, but too late. The human whips about, gun extended. His companions follow suit. He-Who-Watches rapidly withdraws from line-of-sight. All three fugitives can hear the aliens' footsteps moving quietly but urgently forward.

[Fugu]

[Round 1]

The cormus stalks along the far wall, swiveling his gun as soon as he reaches the intersection, and finds the somber He-Who-Watches in his crosshairs. He immediately fires off a burst of yellow pulses, but the impulsive shots go wide. The wariti dashes forward and fires a stream of angry white-hot beads, but He-Who-Watches ducks back and away, watching them zip past his nose, sail inches over Morgan's bizarrely malformed head, and bite sparks out of the far wall. As the monk swivels back into a fighting stance, Morgan's eyes and nose merge into one giant eyeball, his mouth falls and widens into a cavernous ring of sharp teeth, and his entire countenance swells higher and higher until his thick, spiky hide towers over the other combatants. The human's eyes bulge in fear; even the wariti's stalwart exp​ression wavers when Morgan begins to howl an unnatural, screeching wail.

The second human takes cover in the opposing corridor. His hoarse voice can be heard shouting over the gunfire and Morgan's howling, "...backup NOW! ... ...Is it the aliens? What do you THINK?!"

The first human shakes his attention from the horror that is Morgan just in time to see He-Who-Watches' elbow hurtling into his neck. The human drops his gun to clutch his throat, gasping for air. He-Who-Watches snatches the falling weapon and backflips, smoothly tossing the gun away and viciously kicking the human's jaw with both feet in a single motion. Glasgow catches the rifle and opens fire on the beleaguered soldier, who falls backward into the far wall, and crumples to the floor. Glasgow immediately runs forward and trains his gun on the wariti. "Drop it!" he commands.

The wariti quickly regards the pirate, the monk, and the nightmarish sorceror all advancing on him, and flees around the corner.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 25 May 2007 - 11:31 AM

[Fugu]

[Round 2]

Glasgow flicks the rifle to autofire and lays into the wariti as he attempts to flee. Luckily for the wariti, the auto setting's kickback surprises Glasgow. The ceiling takes more punishment than the wariti, who disappears around the corner. He-Who-Watches, having pinpointed the still-conscious human's location from his voice, quickly moves to the corner. As soon as he rounds it, the wariti opens fire from further down the hall. The blast misses badly, and He-Who-Watches's foot rises unimpeded to the human's face. The human sees stars and drops his gun and walkie-talkie.

The one-eyed monstrosity formerly known as Morgan lumbers forward menacingly, letting out a chilling, soul-splitting roar. Suddenly, a clouster of bubbles appears on its ghastly hide, and very quickly, they expand... and shoot forward! A gooey strand fires at the stunned human, but sticks instead to a bundle of cables hanging in the way.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 26 May 2007 - 11:57 AM

[Fugu]

[Round 3]

"Take care of the human, friends." Confident it will be done, He-Who-Watches charges the wariti, kneeing its rounded stomach hard enough to knock the creature into the wall behind. With a *hurk*, the wariti bends forward and clutches its injured abdomen--its gun clatters to the floor.

Glasgow looks between the staggering human and the ex-gnome monstrosity, and gestures friendly-like to Morgan that he have the honours of the coup de grace. The walking stalagmite pulls back his single stray strand in a reeling motion, and then whips forward again to shoot six newly-erupted ropes at the recovering soldier. Four of them smack wetly against the wall, and the human ducks behind the corner in time to escape the other two. He reappears with a grenade in hand, but Glasgow hastily brings the rifle to his shoulder and lets loose a barrage of autofire. The human pulls back again, but not before getting peppered with little blue arrowheads. He lobs the grenade around the corner without looking and bolts down the hallway. Glasgow thanks the gods that he has a 9 foot pillar of stone to hide behind, while Morgan curses the gods, because he is a 9 foot pillar of stone. The canister explodes into a storm of freezing cold gas. Glasgow and even He-Who-Watches feel the chill, while Morgan howls in agony. His tendrils freeze and shatter, and his one giant eye becomes caked with frost.

He-Who-Watches swipes at the retreating human as he passes, but does not stop him.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 28 May 2007 - 08:58 PM

[Fugu]

[Round 4]

He-Who-Watches frowns at the retreating human. "The Wariti, perhaps, friends?"

With a parting chop to the wariti's throat, He-Who-Watches pursues the human. Unfortunately, the wariti catches the blow and attempts to break the monk's hand, but He-Who-Watches shakes loose and chases down the human. The wariti scoops up his dropped gun and fires after He-Who-Watches, but misses. The elf quickly overtakes the human, and leaps upon him.

Meanwhile, Morgan leans forward with his now massive body and brings his monstrous weight to bear, gaining momentum while strands bubble and are retracted back quickly, flailing around near his body like out-of-control pressure hoses. As he passes by the corner, a strand shoots toward the wall on his left, pulling the juggernaut and making its trajectory arc toward the wariti. Glasgow takes the opportunity to rifle through the unconscious human's belongings, finding another ID card (Cpl. Jim Howland), a blue and a yellow rifle clip, and two grenades--one pocked and gray like the grenade that detonated, but the other one smooth and black. The soldier also has a walkie-talkie velcroed to his shoulder, and an old photograph of a nude human female crumpled in his back pocket.

The fleeing human looks back over his shoulder, and is none too pleased to find He-Who-Watches bearing down on him. He pulls something out of a belt pouch and keeps running. The monk leaps feet first into the human's shoulderblades, and both combatants tumble to the metal floor, but the human rolls to his feet and keeps going. He-Who-Watches does the same.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 30 May 2007 - 02:53 PM

[Fugu]

[Round 5]

He-Who-Watches smiles as the human attempts to leave him behind. "I think not, slow one," he muses as he easily closes the distance and somersaults, bringing his foot down on the man's head. The human crumples. As he He-Who-Watches rises to face the remaining foe, he notices a grenade in the human's unconscious hand--the pin has been pulled. He-Who-Watches leaps away just in time to avoid the worst of the blast.

Morgan's horrible charge earns the attention of the wariti. The lavender-skinned alien fires on the beast, but the lasers dissipate harmlessly on the monster's stony chitin. He turns to run, but hesitates when he sees the smarting but alert He-Who-Watches blocking his path. The wariti suddenly finds each of his limbs tightly bound by strong, sticky strands, and goes flying backward at their pull. Morgan looms toward his prey as it thrashes and kicks to break free. One desperate hand catches hold of the lattice floor, and the wariti hangs on for his life. His white teeth shine and his skin flutters black and red. One rope bursts under the strain, but the wariti's grip follows suit; Morgan drags the screaming alien into his giant, howling mouth, and crushes him. Purple fluid squirts down Morgan's gullet and onto the floor. The wariti flails uselessly, but the blood loss and the poison of the strands weaken him to the point that he loses consciousness.

Hesitantly, the roper releases the body, and it tumbles onto the floor, still bound by the strands. Both legs are broken, and one is almost completely severed.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 02 June 2007 - 02:48 PM

[Lynx Cat]

The alien, rocky column gradually decreases in size, gains a variety of colors, and acquires a humanoid shape while its single eye divides into two disgusted ones.

Morgan, now slightly purple from the grenade's frostbite, looks down on the wariti at his feet with a mixture of terror and despite. "Who's blasting who to smithereens now?" He more prods the body with his feet than kicks it.

He turns to He-Who-Watches. "Uh... we better run along now, no?"

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches looks at the beast Morgan became, and shakes his head disgustedly.

"Yes, we better. In a moment."

He then proceeds to look over the wariti, trying to establish wether or not it still lives, and attempts to bind it's most severe wounds.

This post has been edited by Barak: 05 June 2007 - 07:53 PM

[Fugu]

He-Who-Watches kneels beside the wariti, not quite sure where to take a pulse. Its breathing is soft, but normal. The elf manages to stop a great deal of the bleeding using the wariti's clothing. It moans painfully, but does not stir.

[Heal: d20 = 18 + 2 = 20. The wariti has several hit points left.]

[Barak]

"He'll live, good. While they oppose us at this time, those foes are sentient and not evil, just misguided. Killing them would be a mistake, Morgan, remember that in the future."

He-Who-Watches then stands, and looks around.

"Where to now?"

This post has been edited by Barak: 05 June 2007 - 07:55 PM

[Lynx Cat]

"I... know." Morgan turns and starts slowly pacing off while fidgeting a bit, as if trying to drop the subject and start moving as soon as possible. "Got a bit carried away, with the blast and all." While he waits for the elves to decide the next step, he looks for something to occupy his mind and keep it away from the decision on whether to hate these aliens enough to consider them as 'monsters', or not.

[Benevolance]

"Forget that. If someone tries to kill you, you try to kill him right back. We do not have the luxury of playing nice. We're out-numbered, out-gunned, and alone on a hostile sea. I would prefer to not fight, but when we are forced...I don't want Morgan dying because he hesitates over some stupid point of morality." Glasgow lays a hand on the gnome's shoulder, "Now let's get to the escape pod and put as much distance between us and this transport as possible. I think I know the way."

[Cartography +11 if it helps]

[Barak]

He-Who-Watches raises an eyebrow at Glasgow.

"Surely you acknowledge the fact that while those people are more technologically advanced than we are, they remain but children compared to us? Look at me, or yourself! We are unharmed, and the three of them are knocked out. Even Morgan is barely hurt, and that was due to a lucky use of their advanced technology. We must demonstrate to them that we are not, in fact, the monsters they believe us to be. Yes, it is annoying. But they are but children. Their leaders and best warriors are barely worth a sweat."

[Lynx Cat]

"Speaking of children, will you kids shut up for a minute and concentrate on getting out without making enough of a racket to wake the dead, while we're trying to be sneaky? Gond's stones, you guys."

[Fugu]

"Lockley! Come in, over!" The walkie buzzes urgently as the fugitives hurry on. "Lockley, report, over! Howland? Kpo?" The sound fades away as they round the corner, keeping tight to the wall and listening for more soldiers. Hall by hall, the three anachronisms make progress toward the pod; cormi and wariti have converged on the area in response to their compatriots' distress call, but their fear compromises their stealth. With vigilance and good fortune, the party evades discovery, but only just.

Finally, they reach the final hallway. Glasgow peeks around the corner--Alman Kol's body is nowhere to be seen. The escape pod is unguarded. As the old pirate is about to give the "all-clear", he notices a moldy cigarette butt pinched between two branches of the thin steel lattice--oddly, it vibrates. It falls still, then stirs more violently. The floor beneath it, too, thrums with an audible rattle. All three companions now notice the phenomenon, and hear a distant but growing crashcrashcrashcrashCRASHCRASH! Out of a nearby corridor bursts a hulking beast of metal and plastic. Two giant, three-toed feet run up the opposing wall slightly, to counteract the tremendous momentum of massive legs, an obese, headless torso, and two thick, ball-jointed arms. One of the arms bears a fearsome pincer; the other is unadorned. The machine barely fits inside the corridor.

The faceless white torso swivels toward the fugitives. Its surface is pocked on all sides with many tiny black circles. A dirt-encrusted symbol, which Morgan remembers seeing on many of the vehicles back on Jalah, adorns the lower center, along with the Xintus characters, "Cherubim 22NPF".

The legs follow the body and plunder forward--CRASH CRASH CRASH. A disquietingly large minigun swings over the shoulder of the metal monster, and a bloody laser scope cycles between the foreheads of Glasgow, Morgan, and He-Who-Watches in sequence. From the unadorned arm bursts a two-foot spike, which immediately crackles with electricity. Three bright yellow beams of energy pop into being between three points at the "wrist" of the arm, and the tip of the spike. The spiked arm rears back, ready to plunge the cruel weapon into a needy skull.

[Fugu]

[Round 1]

Morgan smiles wide. Okay, now this is much more to my liking.

He circles his hands wide, drawing an eldritch design in the air while pronouncing heavily-trilled arcane words in a crescendo, slowly moving behind Glasgow as he does so; then, he finally ducks to the side and points toward the mechanical hulk, using his elven friend as a cover. A flash of light zips down the hall and erupts violently, engulfing the machine in flames. Pipes hanging from the ceiling burst from the heat, spewing smoke and steam into the corridor. The machine emerges from the storm scorched but unslowed; its laser scope, rendered visible by the fumes, hurriedly scans for the sorcerer--and comes to rest on Glasgow's stomach. Glasgow blanches, grabs Morgan by the collar, and leaps for cover in the adjoining room, but not before the minigun unleashes a torrent of charges on the exposed rogue. All the while, the monstrosity advances.

His skin and uniform smoldering, Glasgow strafes and lays down covering fire for He Who Watches. Two blasts spark harmlessly off of the pearly hide, but one leaves a satisfying bruise on the machine's insignia.

He-Who-Watches tumbles towards the mech, bouncing off the floor and pushing against the wall to confuse the thing's sensor. Once in reach, he punches at what, to him, appears to be a weak link-up in it's "leg". Unfortunately, the armored appendage shows less sign of injury than the monk's own hand.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 08 June 2007 - 12:00 PM

[Fugu]

[Round 2]

Morgan frowns. Hmm. Seems that it's not as damaged as it's supposed to be. Well, let's see if it resists *this*. He steps back, weaving similarly complicated patterns in the air, but uttering the words less dramatically as curiosity overshadows his theatrics. Five brilliant points of light leap from the gnome's fingertips and slam into the machine, leaving five ugly dents in the already scorched facade. Unfazed, the mech pummels Morgan with missiles of its own and snatches at He-Who-Watches in its enormous claw. The monk dodges and strikes the ponderous appendage. One "arm" rebuffed, the second swoops down and buries the laser spike in He-Who-Watches' chest, missing the heart and lungs by inches. The sorcerer is not so lucky--Morgan feels an instant of fire in his stomach and lower back... then as though an old rope were being rapidly drawn through his abdominals. Blood begins to dampen his uniform on both sides.

"Asmodean's PECK, Morgan. Get behind the wall!" shouts Glasgow, who continues to fire from cover at the mechanical adversary. All three shots fizzle on the Mech's armor. He-Who-Watches falls away from the spike, leaps to his feet, and bombards the metal beast with a flurry of blows, but to no effect. The giant looms over He-Who-Watches, and reaches again with the claw.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 12 June 2007 - 12:49 PM

[Fugu]

[Round 3]

"No chance in the Abyss I'd stay put!" Morgan runs for cover while hurriedly preparing an enchantment. The Mech's claw snatches He-Who-Watches by the knees, crushing them like chalk, and flings the monk back down the corridor. Glasgow ducks behind cover to evade the flying elf, and escapes a bombardment of laser blasts from the minigun as well. He-Who-Watches hurtles through the air and into the hard floor. With a flurry of handsprings, he manages to come to rest without further injury, though it pains greatly to stand on his nigh-shattered knees. He finally decides that the time has finally come that he cannot depend on his body alone. He hurries to the abandoned equipment across the way, hoping to find something of use. He uses the breather to find his center and heal the worst of his injuries.

Glasgow fires at the mecha, and at last his aim finds purchase in one of the machine's joints. Smoke and sparks dribble onto the floor, but the Mech keeps moving. The rogue backs away across the corridor, frustration growing.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 12 June 2007 - 06:44 PM

[Fugu]

[Round 4]

"Thanks for clearing the way!" Morgan abruptly and violently casts a simpler version of the first spell, and dashes toward the dock drone, hoping for cover. All three fugitives hear with dread the sound of the mech's crashing footsteps rounding the corner, but the noise is suddenly drowned in the clamor of a devastating fireball that explodes right in the machine's lack of a face. Out of the brooding black smoke staggers the mech. One leg is bent backward like a hook; the lower right corner of the charred breastplate flaps with each movement, its fasteners blown by the explosion. Live wires dangle from the joints, sending ribbons of electricity up and down the battered behemoth. The gun scope sweeps frantically over the room, from Glasgow, to He-Who-Watches, and finally finds Morgan.

Wing-shaped panels flip up out of the mech's backside, and jets underneath them alight with blue flame, lifting the hulk into the air and forward, as its gun trains left and fires on the fleeing gnome. The rays zap the floor beneath his heels as he leaps for cover behind the drone, but catch up to him before he makes it. Morgan falls to the floor and rolls several feet, leaving a trail of smeared blood in his wake. To his astonishment, he finds that he is still conscious when he stops moving.

Urgency quickening his heels, Glasgow dashes recklessly up to the monster and lodges a grenade in a crevice exposed by the wings. He leaps away, cradling his hand from the burns of the jet flames. The Mech's gun swivels accusingly at the pirate, but before it can fire, the cryogrenade detonates. Shards of frost fly everywhere. One wing is blown off completely, and the Mech falls to its one leg, then topples over. Electricity shudders from torn wires; ruptures in the monster belch sparks and smoke. The gun's aim lowers, the laser spike powers down, and the claw hangs lifelessly.

[Barak]

As yet unaware that the mech was toppled, He-Who-Watches hurries up to the equipment rack, and starts to go through it quickly, looking for anything that could be used as a ranged weapon.

[Lynx Cat]

Morgan lies prone for a couple seconds, frozen, his tiny hands covering his head, and then gingerly looks up. When the mechanical behemoth seems silent, he fumbles himself to his feet, trembling, and approaches a couple steps. He tosses a small object at it and huddles away, making sure it's not "alive"... as it were. When he's certain enough, he looks to his fellows and says, in a small voice: "Uh... Let's get the hell away from here as fast as possible, shall we?"

This post has been edited by Lynx Cat: 13 June 2007 - 07:50 PM

[Benevolance]

"That hurts!" Glasgow mumbles loudly as he sucks his burned fingers. He carefully kicks the wreckage for good measure. "Hew, grab us some gel suits. We're getting out of here." Glasgow looks at Morgan to make sure the gnome can walk on his own, then checks the corridor for signs of more company. Rifle ready, he heads towards the escape pod.

[Fugu]

Scarred, but victorious, Glasgow hurries to the escape pod, climbs inside, and begins prepping the craft for departure. Morgan hesitates, calling after He-Who-Watches and staring in wonder at the mech. The quiet elf ransacks shelves and cabinets, finally finding something that looks like it could be gun. He swivels on the spot to fire whatever payload the device contains--and sees the toppled monster. Unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed, he lowers the weapon(?). He turns back to the mess of equipment--toolkits, bags that appear to contain bundled gelsuits, empty battery cells...

A startling POW erupts from the mech. A large panel swings up in a rush of smoke, and a human climbs tentatively out of the wreckage. After a frightened glance at Morgan and He-Who-Watches, he dashes from the room and down one of the halls, calling to his companions for aid. He-Who-Watches grabs three bags of gel and the gun-like device, and joins Morgan in scurrying to the escape craft. Glasgow helps his companions aboard and pulls the hatch closed as the murmur of approaching voices reaches his ears. He turns to the compact console and cranks the lever.

The cramped pod shudders, then begins to thrum with energy. Light billows from the walls, and the spatial rules of the pod begin to bend. A faint thump from the floor: the clenched fist and livid face of Rao Zrossa, futilely beating the hatch window. The face grows smaller and smaller, and the stars above loom closer and brighter. Miles away, He-Who-Watches sits cross-legged in serene contemplation. For a moment, Glasgow and Morgan share eyeballs and stare directly into each other's minds. The hum of the pod deepens and shrills at the same time. The echoes of years and of inches ring loud. Somewhere, sometime, one end of the craft opens into an immense stone gate. On the other side of the gate stand three shrouded figures, and behind them five pillars. Above one pillar floats a silver wand; above the second a necklace of fangs; above the third a bloodstained spear; above the fourth a flute of bone; above the fifth a sapphire-studded axe. The gate begins to open, or perhaps to close? The vision passes before it becomes possible to tell.

This post has been edited by Fugu: 26 June 2007 - 04:06 PM