The Chicken Coup - Volume I - Gameplay Thread

[Space_Carnation]

In the province of Nehraska, in the slumtown of Welfordshire, your lives have taken a turn for the worse. Nobody is allowed to leave- a great wall has gone up, and the Cattlemen guard force cuts down anyone who attempts to escape. Every night, there are disappearances- a piglet here, a nest full of eggs, occasionally a calf... followed by ominous lights and sounds from the Den, the large compound in the center of the city the foxpeople call home.

One night, the kidnapper was caught trying to restrain a young calf. A dastardly fox! A pig warrior and a member of the cattleguard attempted to wrangle him down peacefully, but a crowd was forming. Two chicken voices piped up "Oh my word! Is that the kidnapper of our children? How abominable!" and "KILL THE FOX!" which quickly riled the crowd up to beat him to death. His body was broken and wrenched apart by the swarming crowd, despite Angus's best attempts to shield him from harm. You left his body in the street.

The next day, each of your doors were busted down in turn. With Angus this proved quite unneccessary, as he went willingly, sure the misunderstanding would sort itself out. The members of his squad who were there to arrest him walked him outside without a problem. His friend Bickerbeak, however, was not so willing, protesting that he knew his rights. He took a club to the back of the head.

The fierce and hardy Boris Tusker did not go quietly, at first. He wrestled down a member of the cattleguard on his own before realizing this would not improve the situation. He surrendered. They tried to club him in the head anyway, but it didn't really work. They accepted his surrender.

Clamore was the most belligerent, fiercely striking at his captors as they dragged him out by the foot. He took a club to the back of the head. ...and to the ribs, several times. At least once in the arm. After the second blow to the head, he stopped counting.

Several hours later, you find yourselves in a dungeon. The room is cordoned in half by a line of steel bars Angus is chained to the wall by each limb individually. Boris is free to walk around. Or hop, as the case may be, as his hands and feet are securely manacled together. Bic is secured to the wall by a ring around his neck. So is another Chickenku in the corner. So was Clamore... before they took him away. You've been listening to his screams for the past hour.

Eventually a cowman drags him back in. He is soaked in his own blood and covered in fierce gashes and cuts. (Reduced to 1 hp)

A tall, slender fox in a red vest and purple coat strides into the room. "Just toss him back in the cell." he says. The cowman complies and the fox walks over to the crumpled body on the floor. "Maybe next time you'll reconsider before spitting on your superiors."

He walks out and shuts the cell door. "You... terroristic agitators will all pay dearly for your heinous crimes against the state. I imagine you'll have a public execution. Ah! And with the weather so lovely this week! I will find out why you have done this to an innocent fellow creature such as Marvis, if I have to skin you each alive. But for now..." he rubs his thin, almost gaunt stomach. "I'm feeling lunch." The cowman takes out a ring of keys and locks the cell, and together they leave.

Clamore coughs up some blood. He's still awake.

None of you have your things, they were taken when you arrived.

[PallentisLunam]

Huddled in a miserable pile of feathers and bodily fluids Clamoré alternately moans and utters the most vile curses his avian mind can concoct. Intermingled with the blistering profanity which would make even the saltiest of sailors blush bright red are disturbing verbal images of what Clamoré would like to do to the fox people.

At length his well runs dry and he just curls into a shuddering ball of bloodstained plumage.

[gremlin-pult]

"Oh, this is terrible..." Angus said, his deep voice heavy with sadness. "First that poor fox gets beaten, and now this... Everythings going all wrong..."
He leaned forward to try and help the poor Chickenku, but the rattle of his chains immediately reminded him of his own problem. "Ooh, this is terrible..." He moaned again.

[Devilfish]

Third of Augroast
Log ten

It has been eight months since my terrible discovery, and six since I undertook my contract to [Redacted]. I do not always understand his instructions, but having learned what I have learned, I hold the fullest faith in his foresight.

Even if that foresight has now landed my in a locked dungeon.

I do not always understand his instructions.

Bic's eyes flared wildly as the fox prattled on, keeping silent just until they were left to themselves. When the doors slammed shut, the fury he'd kept bottled was about to spew from his throat-- just as Angus's woeful moo sounded, and relaxed his harsh features.

"There, there," he offered slowly, sympathetically. "I'm certain it will be alright. After all, he said he'd be back to talk to us.

"And I'm sure we would both like a word with him."

What to make of this, he wonders aloud before considering the room around him. His eyes fall on the unfortunate heap on the floor and his compatriot in the other cell. "Spirited show back there. Who are you two?"

[Space_Carnation]

"Three." corrects the chained Chickenku from the back of the jail. "I'm Fogthorne. Is the one on the floor awake?"

[PallentisLunam]

With a groan the brutalized pile of Chickenku feathers rolls over to glare at the chained bovine for a moment, What in the name of the Many is that collaborator doing in here? he thinks before dragging himself across the floor to put his back against the cool stone of the cell wall. Spitting out another mouthful of blood, Clamoré lets out a chuckle which quickly turns into a hacking cough. "They're gonna have to work a lot harder than that to put me out, let alone down. I'm Clamoré, terror of the canines, champion of the oppressed, feathered-" Clamoré is interrupted by another coughing fit, "-death."

[Edgar Snow]

Boris hops away from the bars and surveys the scene before moving over to Angus, while avoiding eye contact with the birds. He fears his anger may lead to rage.

"I know you were trying to save the beast from death. I was hoping that was my ticket out of these walls. Then someone - or two - had to clickity-cluck to the public at large... They don't seem dead or dying, so don't worry, mate. I'll watch 'em. How you holdin' up, no pun intended?"

[gremlin-pult]

"Uh, I'm fine, I think..." Angus said, a bit unsure. "I mean, I'm really unhappy and confused about this whole thing, but I didn't get hit or anything, so..." He shrugged his broad shoulders.

After that his shoulder slumped, however, as he continued speaking. "I just wish I coulda saved that fox... I know he'd done some bad stuff, but that doesn't mean beating him like that is alright! We shoulda talked with him, and tried to figure out what could make him do bad stuff. I mean, something bad must have happened to him, to make him do bad stuff to others."

[PallentisLunam]

Clamoré squawks derisively, "Talk. With foxes?" Turning to face the wall Clamoré pulls himself, talon over talon, to his feet. Slumping into the corner Clamoré pants heavily for a moment before speaking again, "Forget about making new friends, Patty. You heard the dingo, unless we do something about it our corpses will be the newest decorations in town square."

[gremlin-pult]

"Patty?" Angus said, with a blank look on his face.
He furrowed his brow deeply in confusion as he tried to make sense of what Clamoré had said. There were so many big words, though. and what's a dingo?
After a moment he continued, uncertainly "But, But I'm sure we can talk with the leaders. After all, they are our leaders, and they look out for the people, cuz that's what leaders do. This is all a mistake, since we didn't do anything wrong. I'm sure they'll figure that out soon. And then they'll apologize and make up for hurting you." He said feeling more certain the more he talked. Yes, the leaders were the leaders because they were good at taking care of the people. So they'd make everything right.

[Edgar Snow]

"I don't know about that, bovine buddy. Yea, they say they will 'find out why', but that doesn't haf' to mean asking us about the whole event. They called him - Marvin? Mavis? Marcus? - innocent. I think they meant of a crime, not his spirit or nature".

Boris checks out the bloodied bird. "Clamoré, huh? I'm none too pleased with the commotion you caused, but in a way, I understand it. I can't do much for you right now, locked as I am. I don't think busting chains will help too much either".

[PallentisLunam]

Wiping blood out of his eyes Clamoré clacks his beak at Boris "And what could you do if you were-. Wait a minute." Clamoré says interrupting his own train of thought. "Fogthorne, is it? I don't remember seeing you in the crowd last night. What are you doing in here with us, terroristic agitators?"

[Space_Carnation]

"I'm here for, ah, lifting pockets. Poked into the wrong one, didn't I? Been here for days. I think they forgot about me." He leans into the light, and you can see his brown feathers and dark, almost black beak and talons. He is looking severely malnourished. "But if they didn't chain you back up... I always keep a spare pick stuck to my arm with a little adhesive. But they knocked it off putting me in here. Struggled a bit too much, I did. Feel around near the bars!"

[gremlin-pult]

"A lockpick!?" Angus said with a shocked, almost mortified expression. "We can't use something like that! Escaping from prison is illegal." He stated, as if that was explanation enough.
Noticing the blank stares of the others, he elaborated. "I'm sure this is all a mixup. We have to stay here, and wait for the leaders to figure it out with the right prodec... Procedam.... Uuuh..." Angus' brow furrowed deeply as he struggled with the word. "...Until they figure it out the right way. Using the law." He finally said, after his mind had quickly discarded the complicated word.


He was trying to say "with the right procedures", in case anyone was wondering. :smalltongue:

[Devilfish]

Bic clucked twice and swiveled his head as best he could. His words were those of gentlemen, but his tone held something sinister.

The pig is right, my liege. Our only crime is catching the foxes in their own fowl play. They mean to silence us. To make us a public example.

I would deny them this. With your permission, of courssse.

One would swear the last syllable slithered off the chicken's tongue. And, were they perceptive enough, they might also spot a tiny serpent, slipping from the folds of Bickerbeak's hood towards the pick about the bars.

Familiar: Hide [roll0]
Familiar: Spot [roll1]

[PallentisLunam]

Clamoré laughs at Angus, "The heifer doesn't approve? I'm in!" With that he pushes off from the wall and staggers into the middle of the cell before falling over and hitting the floor with a sickening flop. "Uuuuuugh, maybe I'll skip the walking for the moment." Clamoré crawls the rest of the way to the bars and begins feeling around gingerly.

So do I need a search check? If so I'll just take 20 on each space until I find it. Result of 21

[gremlin-pult]

"Whu?.. A-are you sure, Bic?" Angus asked uncertainly. He looked profoundly uncomfortable at the whole mess. "They wouldn't do something like that... But, I guess there HAS been weird things happening..." He mumbled.
He sat and thought for a long moment, then finally looked up with an unhappy, but resolute face.
"Alright, I guess we could leave this place, if you're sure they want to do something bad to us without reason. If it's true, then we need to somehow stop them, and make sure that things go back to being right again." He said.

"But if it turns out that this really IS a big misunderstanding, we have to come back here so they can do things in the right order and apologize, alright? It's important to follow the rules." Angus added, looking at Bickerbeak.

[PallentisLunam]

Clamoré clucks to himself Things are never going back to normal. Not for any of us. but he refrains from crushing the big guy's dreams, he's not cruel after all. Well, except to foxes.

[Edgar Snow]

"Illegal means to get out of an unjust situation. Sounds balanced to me. Plan B though: give me a hand snapping these chains?".

[Devilfish]

Bic swiveled his head the other way, and smiled.

"Oh, I'm so glad you agree. We will somehow stop them, and set things right again- I have. no. doubt. And if it is a mistake, we'll be sure to march right back here and apologize.

"Now, let's get you out of those chains."

Bic folds his arms behind his back naturally, and (hopefully) waits for his familiar to return with the pick unnoticed. He revels at the thought of his reveal, to seemingly pull the pick out of thin air.

... Bic will realize shortly after that he has no idea how to pick a lock at all. Seems he will need the help of the others after all....

[Space_Carnation]

Clamore quickly spots the lockpick and starts pulling himself towards it, but a snake darts in front of him and snatches it away. He brings it to Bickerbeak, who raises an eyebrow triumphantly before the realization that he has no use for it.

Only Clamore would have seen the snake.

[PallentisLunam]

"Nine Hells!", Clamoré exclaims with a start. "Where did that thing come from?!"

[Devilfish]

"Where did what come from?" Bic asks unwavering.(BWOOOK bwok! bwok! bwok! bwok!)
"Foghorne, Feathered Death... Mr. Pig? I have served to assist this manacled Ox for two seasons, and from my time knowing him I can attest he is nothing less than a champion for good. In his wisdom, he has deemed it necessity to leave these cells."

He produces the pick from behind him. "A task we would best do working together.

"Will you help us in our quest... to set things right?"

Bic clucks lowly to himself while awaiting for an answer.


Choose your own adventure Option B:


~ * * * ~

"WHERE DID WHAT COME FROM I DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING" Bic squawks loudly while flapping his arms.[/composure]

~ * * * ~

[Edgar Snow]

"Boris. Call me Boris. Of the family T- oh, nevermind the past. Here is an important consideration: we break, burst, pick, and generally escape our bonds... But then what? We have a door here. And no possessions. And the town's rulers have sought it best if we were to stay put. I'm sure they will reactly quite poorly if the see us roaming about, especially if we stole our things back".

Boris thinks it wise to remain focused on the plan, and not the confused squawking of the Chickenku.

[gremlin-pult]

"Uh I, I'm no champion..." Angus said uncomfortably, embarrassed by the praise his friend was giving him.

"But, while going out of the cell is the wrong thing..." He pauses, chewing on the words. "...For a good reason, though." He adds afterward
"I don't think taking our stuff back is stealing. I mean, it's our stuff." He clarified.

[PallentisLunam]

Clamoré's eyes narrow when Bickerbeak produces the pick, This one needs watching. Attempting to stand again, Clamoré is steadied by his frustration and manages to stalk across the cell to snatch the bit of metal from Bic's talons.

As he hands it to Fogthorne he turns to address Boris, "Well, we might not have our things but my claws are sharp enough to slit a few throats. We are unjustly imprisoned by tyrants and murderers. I say we get our things and get out of this place and along the way we kill every sly bastard we come across."

[Space_Carnation]

Fogthorne examines the pick and tuts. "One of the blighters stepped on it." He inserts it into his lock and clicks it around and is free in a few seconds. He wrings his neck back and forth, popping his joints.

"Thing's in poor shape. I don't know if I'll be able to get everyone- we'll have to get the keys. I'll leave it to you fellas- who should I open first?"

He cranes his neck at the exit. "We've got about thirty minutes till he's back. God forbid he has a quick lunch. All of your locks are different- I could get any one of you completely free and then open the door, or I could get two of you free and we wait here."

Give me a separate Appraise check for each object, or a Knowledge/Craft check if relevant.

[PallentisLunam]

Clamoré teeters a bit but manages to stay on his feet, I'm not going to get much killing done in this condition..

Shaking his head to order his thoughts he says,"Okay, Boris, right? You look pretty beefy... umm sorry porky, what I say we do is unlock you, then you and I can work together with the bull's help to get him out of those chains, while Fogthorne gets the door. After that we go find our stuff and then we come back to spring the snake charming magician over there."

Putting his talons on his knees and bending over Clamoré breathes heavily. "Whoo, that was alot of words. Gimme a second."

Four check for four chains, yes?
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

[Space_Carnation]

One check per personal set of chains is all.

Ripping the chains from the wall seems feasible if you work together, but the greatest effort would have to be on Angus's part. They're tailor made for something his size so literally the only chance is to break what's holding them on the wall.

[Edgar Snow]

"Then we have a bit of time yet. Keep your tools, but i will take your aid. Just grab my arm and pull, and hold on tight. I may need one of you on each...".

Boris takes a few deep breaths, then strains with all his might against the chains.
Take 20 on strength check to break the manacles. That's 23, 26 if aided by one Chickenku.
Repeat for leg manacles.

[PallentisLunam]

"Okay, in that case Fogthorne, get him."Clamoré says pointing at Bickerbeak.

Then Clamoré does as he is bid, grabbing Boris' arm, careful to avoid cutting the porker with his talons, he pulls with all of his might.

[Space_Carnation]

"Then we have a bit of time yet. Keep your tools, but i will take your aid. Just grab my arm and pull, and hold on tight. I may need one of you on each...".

Boris takes a few deep breaths, then strains with all his might against the chains.
Take 20 on strength check to break the manacles. That's 23, 26 if aided by one Chickenku.
Repeat for leg manacles.

No dice unfortunately. Fogthorne grabs an arm and pulls with all his might, but the rings of the chain don't even stretch. These are special Smith & Wesson manacles. Their make suggests a precursor product of some kind, except they seem specially fitted to keep Pigman hands and feet from slipping out.

(Just as a note you still have use of your hands.)

[gremlin-pult]

"Uhm, I guess I should try getting free too..." Angus said, still a bit uncertainly. He still wasn't completely sure that breaking out and going against the leaders' orders was a good idea. But then again, these guys seemed a lot smarter than him, and even Bic said it was the right thing to do. And his feathery friend had never steered him wrong before.
Shrugging slightly, Angus tensed his body, and with a mighty heave he pulled against the chains, his muscles bulging from the strain. A fierce sound escaped his lips, halfway between a growl and a moo, as he pulled with all his strength.

[Devilfish]

Bickerbeak's brow slumps forward like a mudslide on a rocky slope. Mending would have been a lovely spell to review this morning, he bemoans to himself. Luckily, his disappointment will have to wait, as the mention of the word 'magician' quickly sends him into a coughing fit in a loud and vain and flustery attempt to drown it out.

"*hermHEMhu-hu-hrkkk*
*ahem*
Snake charmer! Yes, yes I'd forgot to mention!
Angus, you remember Lucy, don't you?"
(A tiny cyan viper pokes her head out at her mention)
"Used to help me with my deer hunts! Ha-ha, r-real help, this one!"
*A-HEM*

Bic's eyes lock with Clamore's and expand like a coming stormcloud.

<<Angus does not explicitly know of any arcane dabblings of mine, and it would make my job significantly easier if I broke the news to him when I see fit-- you mewling snivel of a--BWOOOOK!!>>

*A-hem.*

"I may be of service here," he began while giving his feathers a chance to descend. "If you know of any way to lure a guard with the keys to me... you will find I can be terribly convincing."

No disrespect towards you as a player, Pallentis! I just figured that Bic had been far too composed fit the character I had in mind =p

[Space_Carnation]

Fogthorne walks over to Bickerbeak, clicking his tongue to himself and fumbles with the lock. It's off in a few seconds.

Bic, even you can see the pick is bent out of shape. White stress marks show on the metal like something bent almost to the point of breaking.

"Not much more use." He says. "Should I go for the door, the pig, the c..." that's when he notices Angus starting to strain against his chains, muscles rippling.

(Assuming everyone helps)

The four of you grab a chain, bracing against the wall and with a mighty cry Angus tears the chains from the wall with a crash. Stone flies everywhere. The chain around his right wrist still has a brick attached.

You hear shouting outside the room and the jangling of keys. Fogthorne grabs a fist-sized chunk of rock a ducks back into the shadows.

[Edgar Snow]

Boris starts to lower his voice as he speaks, "Alright. Go team and all that. Good good. I have no weapon for my hands, but my legs... They could use freedom. And whatever happens, let's try to keep everyone, on both sides, still breathing, yea?".
Boris strains against his leg shackles, using his arms as much as possible and hopes assistance is coming before the shouting, key-jangler makes it to the cell.

[PallentisLunam]

Hoping to take advantage of his battered appearance Clamoré dashes across the cell and falls in a heap next to the door.

In a low whisper Clamoré says "Pair. Let's try and take them by surprise. Angus play dumb. Boris play dead. Bickerbeak do your thing. Fogthorne... umm do you."

[Space_Carnation]

You have a few seconds to get ready. There are different sized rocks on the ground. Yes, they can be improvised weapons.

Boris, your speed is halved. Attacks using hands are at -2. Fogthorne is fast enough to free you if you ask.

Everyone tell me what you're doing to get ready, roll your initiative, and tell me what you want to do when your turn comes.

[Devilfish]

"Well done my liege, you've done it again!"

Bickerbeak massages his neck, and saunters over towards the center of the room. He tears a small piece of wool off his breeches, and folds his arms behind his back again. "It is up to you, Boris; but it sounds like your keys are arriving here shortly."

<<Birds of a feather, now>> he nods faintly to the other two.

Initiative: [roll0]
I'm positioning myself to be the first thing the guards see in the room; hopefully it will serve as a distraction from the coming flank-fest.

I am also taking a ready action to prepare a spell

[gremlin-pult]

"Ooooh, this is bad..." Angus said with an unhappy expression. He was gonna get in so much trouble for this! He was breaking so many rules! And now there were people coming. "Ooooooh..." He whimpered. All in all it came out as a drawn out, and very depressed, mooh.
Fiddling with the chain on his arm, he held it up from the floor and wrung it in his hands as he worried.


Fluff wise, all Angus is doing is standing around worrying, while using the chain with the brick at the end as an impromptu stress ball (or the closest equivalent he could find, anyway).

Mechanics wise, he is now holding an improvised weapon, and since he's ot doing anything, I say he's dealyin his action.
It'll take some serious danger or convincing before he goes into combat though...

[Edgar Snow]

Boris quickly hop-hops himself away from the door, enough space that he could shuffle his way over in a moment. He keeps his manacled hands in front of him, his eyes on the door, but his head turned away.

[Space_Carnation]

Bic waves his hands around and gets ready to cast a spell.

Clamore plops down near the entrance and becomes the very image of a corpse. It's not very hard. His feathers are basically all red at this point.

The door pounds open and two heavily armed cattlemen come in. One has a large crossbow and standard-looking leather armor. The other has a black leather cowl (Cowl) pulled over his face and wielding what seems to be a drive shaft with nails sticking out of the end.

The cowman with the crossbow takes aim through the bars and hits Angus in the shoulder for -3- damage. The other, clearly not buying Boris's try to look inconspicuous, turns the key and walks through the cell door, shutting it behind him as he walks toward Boris with a grin.

As he does so, Fogthorne leaps from the shadows with a battle squawk and nails him across the skull with the rock before slicing with his talons. The rock crumbles on his skull and he moos in pain but the talons fail to create more than a light scratch.

Clamore takes this opportunity to attack as well. (from now on if you're holding an attack go ahead and roll it. I need that roll from you now. AC 18)

Angus continues to moo and wring his chains anxiously. Will he be able to put his fear of breaking the rules to pasture? Will the oppressor's crossbow bolt impress upon him the udder seriousness of the situation? Find out, next time!

[Space_Carnation]

Clamore's claws cleanly cut the cow's calves.

(Bic didn't provide any specific events he was holding his spell for, he gets a chance to cast something now before the next round.)

[Edgar Snow]

Boris swings his head around, and starts his awkward charge forward, his head bent low, his thick neck tense, tusks forward.
charge action, tusks,
Attack [roll0]
Damage [roll1]

[gremlin-pult]

Having no idea what the best thing to do is, Angus stood uncertainly, watching the fight unfold.
As the crossbow bolt hit him in the shoulder, he roared in pain and shock. This was not right. What he was doing was wrong. But what the guards were doing was worse. They couldn't just fire on prisoners, not without clear permission to take lethal action!
Knowing that his friend and the others were in danger since these guards seemed to be completely ignorant of the rules, Angus decided to take action.
With another roaring moo, he swung the chain and piece of brick above his head, before sending it crashing towards the nearest guard.


Attack: [roll0]
Crit confirm: [roll1]

[Edgar Snow]

Boris calls over to his cow ally Angus, "Hold his flank, give 'im the horns!", and shuffles to put the prison guard between the two of them.

5 ft if needed, Tusks,
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Devilfish]

Bottom of Round 1::
* * *

"My liege!"

Bickerbeak hurls the piece of wool at the crossbowman, which blurs into the arcanum and manifests as a fog upon its mind. Bic assesses the bolt in Angus's side, which brings a trembling fury upon him.

Bic gestures at the guard with a wicked hiss, and a tiny serpent springs from his clothes to snap at its heel.
Lucy moves into flanking position and attacks
Attack: [roll0]
(If successful, he will take 1 damage and must make a DC 10 fort save or suffer [roll1] Con damage)

Top of Round 2::
* * *

Feathers ruffled, neck forward, and arms waving, Bic rushes forward to distract the dazed, unloaded crossbowman.
Moving into melee to Aid Another (Angus), and put myself in the ring for that delicious AoO when he tries to reload.

(Yeah, I'm not a whole lotta fun without my crossbow either. I'd try taking his if I weren't so terribly weak :smalltongue:)

[Space_Carnation]

Bickerbeak flashes a scrap of wool from his clothes through the cell bars, and the bowcow's expression droops along with his arms. He's barely standing. He moves near the leather-wearing cow and his snake springs through the bars to sink its teeth into the bowcow's ankle, who lets out a sickly moo of pain. Noticing Angus rearing up for a swing, Bic lets out a loud squawk to distract the cow near him (henceforth "jailer"), who turns his head.

Clamore takes this opportunity to rush by him to get between him and the exit. The keys jangle in the lock as he bumps into the door to the room which is still open.

Annoyed, the jailer takes a swing at Bickerbeak. For all his power he only manages to clip him in the arm for -3- damage.

The bowcow begins to drool.

Fogthorne twists away from the jailer and runs back to the shadows. The wounded cow takes a wild swing at him as he does so and smacks him in the back of the head. Blood and feathers spray out of the cell. Fog stumbles and squawks in pain, but does not stop. He makes it to his corner of the cell and a rock flies out and hits the jailer in the face.

Boris hop-charges into the jailer tusk first. They rip right into his belly and he roars.

Angus swings the chain brick around and swings at the jailer. The way he was headed, he would have been out of the way of the brick but due to Bickerbeak's expert distraction skills he had stopped moving and as a result, he gets clobbered in the spine.

Clamore hears behind him "What the-!?!" as a crossbow bolt whiffs his neck and sinks into the bowcow next to him. Turning, he sees a fox wearing a blue coat and powdered white wig. The fox had been rooting through the contents of a wooden chest on a circular platform connected by chains to the ceiling several floors up.

"Raise the evidence chest!" The fox shouts up, stepping off the platform. You hear a crank turning and the platform the chest is on quickly raises into the air.

[gremlin-pult]

Seeing Bic jump in to distract the guard, Angus gasped in shock. His friend was now in even more danger than before!
With almost no hesitation, he swung the chain-brick at the guard once more.


Attack: [roll0]
cri confirm: [roll1]

damage: [roll2]
crit damage: [roll3]

[Devilfish]

Top of Round 3::

* * *


Though but a graze, Bic takes the blow hard. He yelps in pain and instinct brings his arms up to protect himself, as he staggers out of the way.

It's about then that he starts speaking in tongues.

His arms are still pitifully raised, but his eyes, man- his eyes have locked dead with yours. They are void of emotion or pain or compassion, and his words are something otherworldly. They are unlike anything you have heard before, and it is a scathing sound upon your ears.

The sight is maddening, to the unlearned.

Bickerbeak:
I am now fighting defensively (-4 attack rolls, +2 AC)
5 foot step southeast to put Boris in flanking position (+4)
Speaking in Infernal to distract the melee combatant: Aid another to Boris's attack (+3 bonus)
Kindly skewer this guy, Were. Thank you. :p

Edit: *Southeast


Familiar (Lucy):
A) Same instructions as before: if the crossbowman is alive, continue to attack him.
B) If not, move west to engage the melee bull (in the northeast position to get a flanking bonus from Angus)
C) If HE'S dead for whatever reason before then, double move towards the fox to help Clamore engage.
Attack: [roll0] (plus 2 if she's engaging the melee bull with the flank bonus)
1 damage plus [roll1] Con damage

[Edgar Snow]

Boris tries to spread his feet as much as the chain allows before tightening his neck as he throws his tusks toward the guard.

attack with tusks [roll0] (+3 more if Aid Another is successful)
Damage [roll1]

[Space_Carnation]

Bic begins shouting gibberish at the jailer, who stares at him as if confused. His snake continues to nibble at the ankles of the bowcow, who begins to come to.

Clamore rushes out of the room. He rushes at the fox full-speed and slashes with his talons but only hits air. The fox grins.

The bloody jailer is having a bad time of it. Spitting blood, he thunks Boris on the head for -4- damage.

The bowcow begins trying to stomp on the little snake.

Boris tucks in a tries to gore the jailer again, but the braying bull pulls away, now focused fully at Bickerbeak.

Angus sees the time to strike, and swings down the chainbrick with a mighty crash! Or tries to. It gets wrapped around his horn. He has to spend the rest of the round unwinding it.

Clamore, the wigged fox butts you in the skull with his crossbow as you run by. Everything fades to darkness.

[Devilfish]

Top of Round 4::

* * *


Bic staggers southeast five more paces and his trance breaks. His senses suddenly return to him, not least of which the scowl which deepens his features.

"You should have listened to me just now."

He looks briefly to Angus with a malevolent grin.
"My liege, please avert your eyes just a moment."

"I'M SO SORRY MY LIEGE, I AM A MAGICIAN AND A TERRIBLE COOK AND I USE MAGIC TO FLAVOR YOUR FOOD FOR YOU, BWOOOOOK"

Engulfing flames shoot from his hands.
Bickerbeak:
Burning flames upon the two cattle guards. I think if I'm visualizing the grid right, putting me just outside the door should avoid any friendly fire (bwok). If I'm not visualizing it right, I think that moving south, and aiming it at the bowcow should be able to hit the jailer in the cone without singing anyone else.
Damage: [roll0]

Familiar:
Lucy hisses something about attacks of opportunity against an opponent using an unarmed attack, but she is a snake and nobody can hear her and hopefully everyone is on fire and that won't really matter.
She mops up any survivors, starting with the bowcow.
Attack: [roll1]
Damage: 1 plus [roll2] CON poison.

Edit: Sigh, rolls redone here. (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20567297&postcount=1930)
Oo, max damage. I think we needed that one

[gremlin-pult]

"Uuh, wha...?" Angus said as his attempt at untangling the chain from his horns was momentarily interrupted by Bickerbeak's hell and subsequent display of fireworks. He stared at it blankly for a moment, before shaking his head.
"I dun' really understand, Bic, but it's okay. I know you had a good reason for keeping it secret. You're my friend, and I trust you!" He exclaimed with an expression of absolute faith in their friendship. He then went back to untangling the chain.

[Edgar Snow]

The hit hurts Boris, but it just makes him more angry. He is now more worried about his recent companions.

attack [roll0]
Tusks [roll1]

(I assume the chest and such aren't in sight)

[gremlin-pult]

Finally getting his horns untangled, Angus immediately swung the chain at the guard once more. He might not like hurting people, but his friend getting hurt was something he couldn't ignore.


Attack on the guard who's gunning for Bickerbeak.

Attack: [roll0]
crit confirm: [roll1]

damage: [roll2]
crit damage: [roll3]

[Space_Carnation]

Bic runs out of the cage and carefully aims a spray of flames so they only hit the jailer and not his friends. The snake tries to bite the bowcow again but can't sink her teeth in.

The jailer swings all over the place. You can't tell who he was trying to hit, but he didn't.

The bowcow pops off a shot at Boris but it goes past him and clatters off the wall.

Boris and Angus pretty much wail on the jailer, and he goes down.

A fox with a powdered wig and blue coat runs into the room. "What the devil?" He tosses something into the cage and suddenly it is filled with stinging smoke. It hurts to breathe.

[Edgar Snow]

(When the time comes) Boris, holding his breath just in case, says, "Everyone out! You too Foggy!", and hops his way out the door towards the thrower.

If I can make it to the Fox:
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

If not, Boris simply moves up to the fox with a double move (or as close as he can). The rolls could be for a possible AoO.

[Devilfish]

"Boris, all of you, get out of there!" he shouts into the smoke as the room begins to fog. He scans the room outside, quickly assessing the situation. "Clamore is down!" he adds with his eyebrows arched high.

And then he sees the fox.

At a high level, Bickerbeak would envision himself in a splendorous aztec crown, with a fine scepter of ruby and gold.

Right now, he envisions how regal that powdered wig would look on him.

(But to get that, he would need his befriended Muscles.)
(And they shall need something to hit with.)

Just curious: is the jailer's weapon closer to a club or a morningstar? I'd like to mage hand it over to Boris or Angus, but the latter is just a pound too heavy (6lbs)

(For sake of time, I'll proceed as though it were the latter; though if it looks light enough I'd like to opt for mage hand)

Bic kept his eye on their captors gear ever since they'd arrived; having mentally noted where the bull fell before the smoke, he takes a deep breath, and dives back into it.

Bickerbeak:
*Move action to where the bull-jailer fell.
*If needed, a search check to feel around the floor for the club/morningstar: [roll0]
He picks it up otherwise.

Familiar:
Lucy keeps on the bowcow if he is still alive, and keeps in range for an AoO if he reloads or tries an unarmed attack.
*5 foot step northwest to put approaching allies in flanking position.
*Attack: [roll1]
*Damage: 1 plus [roll2] CON damage.

Attack of Opportunity, if warranted:
Attack: [roll3]
Damage: 1 plus [roll4] poison

[Devilfish]

Bickerbeak eyes Sir Bowcow's crossbow. Bic had owned one himself before being brought in.
How kind of the cow to return one to him.

Bic decides it only fitting to pay forward the generosity and return the smoke bomb to the fox in turn.
He chants an incantation and with a wave of his finger, sends it back at it's owner.


"The morningstar, Angus," the chicken smugly suggests.
Using this post instead of the above one; I'm only not editing it to keep a track of the rolls
EDIT: Using mage hand to position the smoke bomb to have it hit the fox without it reaching us; if possible I'll hold it 10 feet in the air to avoid being reached/thrown away.

[gremlin-pult]

"Uh, alright." Angus said, before moving over and picking up the morningstar. With it in hand, he then looked to Bickerbeak for advice. As a trained guard, he had absolutely no idea how one would act when on the other side of the law.


So I guess Angus uses a move action to move over to the morningstar, and a standard action to pick it up. Yay, I'm armed!:smallbiggrin:

[Space_Carnation]

Bic returns the acrid smokebomb to whence it came. It is harder for everyone to see now.

The bowcow shoots Boris in the foot for -1- damage.

Boris hops at top speed around the cell bars and just makes it to the fox to stick his tusks in up to the snout. The fox gurgles up blood, but when you remove yourself he's still upright.

You can now see the other room with Clamore unmoving on the floor.

Angus has a morningstar.

The fox immediately disengages and flees into the other room.

Fogthorne limps out of the shadows to stand behind Angus. He does not look to be in good shape. His head is soaked in red.

[Devilfish]

Bickerbeak scoffs, confident he could use the bow better than the blundering ox that's holding it.

Bickerbeak:
Moving towards the door to keep an eye on the fox and look outside. I'll end my position 5 feet east of the doorway to avoid being shot from the next room.

Readying to re-position the smoke bomb into the bowcow's face when he tries to take his shot.

Familiar:
Keeps in her flanking position with boris.

Attack: [roll0]
1 dmg plus [roll1] CON dmg (DC 10 fort save)

[Edgar Snow]

Boris, with the help of a little serpent, strikes at the cow with his tusks.

[roll0]
[roll1]

If he goes down (or is down?), hop 10 feet over to the other room.

[Space_Carnation]

Bickerbeak moves around with his snake nipping at the bowcow's feet all the while.

The bowcow finally manages to stomp the snake, and it stops moving.
It didn't die, nonlethal damage.

Boris hops around and charges at the lone opponent, but misses.

Angus walks over and attacks him. It's not the most powerful blow but he crumples like paper. You suspect he might have just as easily been thwarted by a heavy sneeze in his general direction. Yay, poison.

A crossbow bolt comes flying from the other room through the smoke. It does not hit anything.

[Devilfish]

"Downed in one blow- outstanding work!" Bic gleams, trusting Angus not to have noticed the familiar or her part at all.

It's about then that he noticed the absence of that ethereal link- that warmth that would delight him whenever Lucy sank her fangs into something. He spots his familiar and his beak drops. Anyone with 10INT could see the distress in his face. He flings the smoke bomb aside and rushes over to the fallen creature.

His hands shake, and he notices the crossbow beside him.

From the readied action last round, I send the smoke bomb out the door back towards the fox.

Move to the downed bull.
Picking up his crossbow (not actually sure if it's a light or a heavy one, but hey, I'll take it!)

(If free actions permit, I'll retrieve my familiar and toss the keys to Boris)

[Space_Carnation]

You have the crossbow. It is a medium crossbow. There's a small quiver of 6 bolts on the cow, which I assume you also grab.

Lucy is still alive, just knocked out. You stuff her in your pocket I guess, and toss the keys to Boris. He starts unlocking himself.

You send the canister out into the other room. It clatters off the wall and lands next to Clamore. However it's not giving off any more smoke.

It is then that you all feel sick. A frog forms in your throat, making it hard to breathe. And you become dizzy. -1 Con each. Fogthorne chokes out and falls to the floor. He is not responsive and you can tell his breathing is impaired.

From the other room you hear quick, padded footsteps like someone running up stairs.

[PallentisLunam]

Boris seems to hyperventilate for a moment before he let's out a loud grunt and a squeal. Suddenly he doubles in size with the gruesome sound of popping joints. Reaching down he grabs an unconsious cow by the throat and Fogthorne by the collar. "Angus, we need to move! Bring your friend!"

Launching himself out of the door Boris is careful to keep the cow between himself and the fox as he runs over to Clamoré.

So Clamoré would be AC 13 vs ranged attacks (10 base, -5 unconsious, +4 prone, +4 cover)
Fogthorne would be the same if he is unconsious as well.
Boris has AC 11 (10 base, -1 size, +2 shield) 15 if total defense is allowed)

[Devilfish]

The reality sits in between bouts of coughs and wheezes that the group may have been poisoned themselves.

Angus ~the Hero~ (and Bic) burst from the door in dramatic fashion, which doubles back on its hinges to accommodate such.

Angus ~the Hero~ bounds after the fox, now that his massive porker ally is seeing to the fallen.

He hears his rooster companion speak words of encouragement in that funny language of his that Angus doesn't understand. Invigorated, the swiper doesn't stand a chance.

Angus makes a double move after the fox. If it covers more ground, he'll take a run action.

Bic moves out into the main room as far as he can and casts his second Daze spell

[Space_Carnation]

As Boris runs out, a bolt from above cleaves the cadaverous cow in the carotid. The fox is partially up the stairs spiraling up the sides of the room.

Angus carefully shuts the door and then attempts to bust through it heroically. The door, designed specifically to prevent this, buckles under the abuse but nonetheless holds tight. He opens the door and leads Bic through, and then starts chasing the fox up the staircase. (At current pace he will be caught up in 2 rounds, able to attack in 3)

Bic sees the fox right away and after briefly calculating the distance decides he is, by inches, close enough to cast a spell. He holds out his hand and what can best be described as a beam of fog shoots out and hits the fox dead on in the face. The fox sways before going to one knee.

(Fox is dazed. Angus will be almost to him next round and be able to attack him the following round)

[Devilfish]

"You've got him now, Angus!" Bic shouts up the stairs while wheeling back the crossbow winch.

"I have a plan," he clucks to Boris in his natural tone, which bleedswith unentheusiasm and disapproval. "It doesn't involve any witnesses," he continues, taking aim.

Angus continues as fast as he can to engage the fox.

Bic loads and attacks with the crossbow.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[PallentisLunam]

With a pained groan Boris snaps back to his normal size. Looking over at Bic he nods, "Agreed." He then raises his over his head and intones a brief incantation before touching Clamoré on the arm. A soft glow suffuses the avian and moments later his eyes crack open, beady and pissed.

Boris has spontaneously cast Cure Light Wounds in place of Divine Favor. He heals Clamoré for: [roll0] and the same amount of nonlethal damage
As an aside does Clamoré get to act this round or next, and would a heal check be sufficient to get Fogthorne back on his feet or would that take actual healing?

[Space_Carnation]

Bic aims his crossbow at the dazed fox, and lets fly! And misses. The bolt clatters around the stairs a bit before rolling off the edge and back to the ground floor.

Angus barrels up the stairs like a train.

Boris lays his hand on Clamore and heals him to 5 HP.

Fogthorne was choked out from poison. He's not in danger of dying in his current state unless he takes more damage but he isn't waking up - the Heal check for doing so with out the antidote or some antitoxin is out of your reach. You'll have to use a cure light to get him up and running.

The fox stirs from his confusion, and noticing that he's been dozing on the tracks of the oncoming pain train, yelps and starts back up the stairs again. He fumbles with his bolts, but not having been trained in the arts of Quickly Reloading, elects to throw his hand crossbow instead. It smacks Angus uselessly before also falling to the ground floor and busting to pieces.

[PallentisLunam]

As Boris throws down his cowshield and delivers a couple of stirring lines about how those who act for right will be strengthened in all they do, Clamoré dashes over to the fallen quarrel and snags it by the tail end. "Hey you orange-furred **** stain! You dropped this!" he shouts whipping the arrow overhand towards the fleeing fox.

Everybody is now blessed, for one minute, by Boris the Pig. Assuming the fox is between 20 and 40 ft from Clamoré, here goes nothing [roll0]; Damage [roll1]

[Devilfish]

(2 posts in one day!? How can this be??)


MOO-MOOO, goes the pain train, huffing up the stairs.

Bic frowns as he watches the bolt fall to the ground. "<Stop running, and I'll call him off>" he suggests to the fox from below. "<Otherwise...>"

Bic:
Attack [roll0]
Damage [roll1]

Angus closes the distance and will engage next round.

[Space_Carnation]

Bic and Clamore continue to send bolts up the stairs by various means, to no avail. They miss. This does have the effect of scaring the fox further, who doesn't seem to have heard Bic's offer as he shrieks and continues fleeing up the stairs. As he does so he starts unstrapping various items from his person and flinging them at Angus. Some meat jerky, a flask, a wine bottle- the bottle actually seems to cut Angus. 1 damage. It doesn't come close to stopping him. He is now mere steps behind the fleet fox, who draws a silver dagger.

[Devilfish]

Angus comes to a stop before the fox clutching his dagger. It's a pitiful sight and it brings him no shortage of distress. "I uh... I really don't wanna have to..."

"He really doesn't," Bic clucks lowly from below, loading another bolt. "But he will. How confident are you feeling up there? Outnumbered with naught but a letter opener to defend you? Keep calm, and use your head- it may just save your life."

He ***** back the bolt and levels the bow.
"Last chance."

Bic: load and ready. If the fox does anything other than drop his weapon and surrender (run, scream for help, etc), he'll take the shot.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Angus: Same.
[spoiler=A+D]Attack: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

[Space_Carnation]

The fox thinks about it a second, unfortunately his pride wins out and he tried to make a break for it. Bic sticks him with a bolt in the leg, and Angus gingerly crushes his spine with a swing of his driveshaft morningstar. He falls, his powdered wig coming off his head and floating to the ground floor.

[PallentisLunam]

"Huh, well it's not quite a scalp but it'll do." Scooping up the wig Clamoré spins it by the tail and lobs it up at Angus. "To the victor go the spoils big guy."

"It would seem your plan was effective." Boris says to Bic.

[Devilfish]

And then he sees the fox.

At a high level, Bickerbeak would envision himself in a splendorous aztec crown, with a fine scepter of ruby and gold.

Right now, he envisions how regal that powdered wig would look on him.

Scooping up the wig Clamoré spins it by the tail and lobs it up at Angus. Nope.
As the fox drops behind him, Bickerbeak turns and hefts the crossbow over his shoulder-- and waits as the powdered wig drifts majestically onto his head.

~Deal with it.~

((Of course whether this actually happens or not, I am fine with either way; for again, Bickerbeak is not the hero of this story))

"I was hoping he'd tell us how to get out of here before he dropped in," Bic frowned and nudged the body with his foot. "No matter. By my count we've now two suits of armor and a three disguises. With a little finesse, we may be able to get out of here more quietly."

He eyes Clamore, and grins. "I think you've made a hell of an impression on them. Think you can take on the role of a prisoner a little longer?"

Spellcraft to identify Boris's Cure Light wounds: here (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20665881&postcount=1996)

"Sir Death is faring quite well, speaking of," he turns back to Boris. "You know divine magic, don't you?"

[PallentisLunam]

"My people have learned to turn hunger and battle lust into powerful tools, yes."

Clamoré rolls his eyes, "And what? You get to play the fox?" As the wig settles on Bic's head Clamoré mumbles "Fine, whatever gets us out of here fastest. But be careful or else that wig may start to suit you. Oh and I think our gear was in a chest that got raised up to the top of the tower. They maybe expecting us..."

Will the cow's armor even fit Boris? Pretty sure there's not chance of it fitting either chickenku unless we're going hardcore on the RAW.

[Space_Carnation]

Bic adjusts his wig. You're in the bottom floor of a tower. You have some walking ahead of you.

[PallentisLunam]

Boris goes and holding his breathe drags the executioner cow out into the tower before striping him of his armor and hood. With Clamoré's help he gets the armor strapped on and pulls the cowl over his head. His nose and tusks stick out comically, "Are you sure about this Bickerbeak?"

Clamoré then climbs the stairs to search the fox's body and listen at the top of the stairs for any sounds of alarm or other indications that the complex has been alerted to their escape.

What does every body have in their pocketsees and would you like checks for any of that?

[Space_Carnation]

No checks. The cows had 3 copper and a half-eaten cheese sandwich between them. The fox has 6 gold, 2 silver, a wooden fork, and a silver dagger.

Bic, as you put the wig on, you feel kind of funny. You don't know why or in what way, precisely. Just funny.

There does not seem to be an alarm. All the fox shouted before was to raise the evidence chest, without a reason. You don't hear any noises above.

[Devilfish]

"No," he says flatly, taking a moment to make sense of his new wig.
Appraise:
Spellcraft: [roll1d20+5
"But they will help me bend the truth. That I'm sure of."
"Any other thoughts?" he asks, swiveling his head towards Foghorn.

"Foxes... Maybe the guards had porkers, too?"
Angus checks his knowledge of the guard with that outstanding roll he did back in the ooc some time back

Not sure how much healing we have left, but we're still a man (and a snake) down.
Also, are our clothes terribly stained in blood, or do we actually look like we *may* belong there?

Also! Gonna be gone until possibly sunday night, catch you folks then!

[PallentisLunam]

Clamoré gets the keys off of the guard and checks to see which fit Boris' discarded cuffs, "If I'm gonna be wearing these bracelets they're gonna be in front, I'm gonna have the keys, and I want that dirty coyote's knife."

Boris goes to check on Fogthorne, turning him over and making sure his airway is clear. With an exasperated sigh he looks up at the others, "I don't know if I can revive him, my abilities only go so far."

[Space_Carnation]

Guards rarely have pork. Pigmen are too stubborn and less malleable. Cattlemen are typically dull enough to manipulate easily. For the ones who aren't, there's always another dumb on to take his place. So if a pig worked here, everyone would know his name.

The wig in itself would be about 50 gp, but you know it would be more based on the enchantment. Try that spellcraft roll again.

Clamore is soaked in blood down to the feathers. No hiding that until he gets a bath. The others are OK.

An odd, high-pitched scream pierces the calm from the upper floor. It's the strangest noise any of you have ever heard, but definitely one of pain.

[PallentisLunam]

"I would say, that is a sign that we should get a move on." Boris leans down and touches Fogthorne between the eyes as he mumbles something under his breath. (CMinorW)

Clamoré rolls his eyes as he tucks the keys into one sleeve and the knife into the other. "Great, more crap to deal with."

[Devilfish]

Angus wrinkles his brow and holds his chin in deep thought.
No pigs, hm. Any chickens alongside the foxes, maybe?

Bickerbeak makes a box with his thumbs and fingers and looks at Clamore through it. "My my, we don't need to work on your disguise at all."

Just then, a banshee's wail of anguish calls his attention from upstairs. Bic promptly adjusts his wig.
"And there's our distraction, what good fortune. Alright everyone,

"Boris, you're a new face to the guard.
"Angus, you're helping him escort Clamore with me.
"Clamore, you're a dangerous prison-- actually, just keep acting naturally, you're doing great.
"I'll lie as needed.

"Grab what you need or speak your mind now- opportunity won't smile on us for long..." he listens for another scream.
Up to you if you'd like to get another member up and running! I'm about set to head out if you are.
(Don't fret, Space; we can save the poor soul above- I'll just have to fudge a reason for Bic to do so :p)
You guys figure we start the recruitment process, btw?

Also, Spellcraft: [roll0]

[Devilfish]

"Two prisoners it is, then. On me, everyone."

The chicken clucks nervously, for his is a frail body among his comrades; but the act would demand him leading the group. If he is afraid, by the time he climbs the stairs he does not show it. He walks purposefully, and leads the group from below.

[Space_Carnation]

About the same number as sheep who hunt together with wolves.

With that roll you'll be able to tell the school of magic by casting Detect Magic, but the exact nature will elude you for now.

[PallentisLunam]

Boris shuffles along at the back of the group trying to look confident and inconspicuous at the same time. Clamoré staggers hunched over in the middress of the group appearing to lean on Fogthorne for support.

[Space_Carnation]

Confident in the soundness of your plan, the lot of you creep up the stairs. The stairway winds around and around the tower at least three times before you come to a trapdoor with some noise above it.

You open it up and climb through. You're in a small room about the size of a closet. There's no door, so you walk out into a much larger area. There are two cows guarding where you came out, facing away. They are startled when you come out.

On the far side of the room, a fox is leaned over a table with a magnifying glass, poking and prodding at a light green metal object about the size of a small wastebasket. You hear a small, childlike voice from somewhere you can't place- "No, please don't mess with that! That's my hard driIVAAAGGGHGGGGG!" You recognize it as the scream from before.

The cows shout and immediately turn to you with their weapons at the ready.

"Hey! Where did you come from?" says one.

"They came out of the dungeon, Ron." says the next.

"The dungeon! You, bird! Where is Tavin?"

The fox does not look up from his work.

To your left, you notice a chest on a raised circular platform next to a giant crank lever.

[Devilfish]

Bickerbeak considers himself a learned man. In truth he had worked as a librarian within a Mage's sanctum before his more recent contract with ██████████. But for all his knowledge, he had never heard of such a creature- that could scream quite so.

He snapped to it and grinned at the guards.

Bluff: [roll0]

"He took a little trip downstairs," bwok bwok, "and is still busy at work. Did a fair number motivating this one to talk, however. We think he might know more than he's worth to us dead. For now.

His eyes drift to the fox's workstation, and then lazily fall upon the 'evidence' to their left.

"He *ahem*, also wanted the chest brought with us. That'll be your reassignment, you two."
Spot if I can get a better look at what the fox is doing from here [roll1]
Here's hoping on that bluff bonus..

[Space_Carnation]

The two guards are totally put off by your air of authority. "Oh, uh, yes sir, of course sir."

One of them grabs the chest, and he other walks next to you, folding his arms and looking serious. "Here you are, sir. There's all the personal effects from the cow, pig, and two... chickens... we picked up earlier." He looks to each of you as he says the species as if he is putting two and two together, but the timing belt turning the wheels in his head must have skipped, for whatever machinations at work fell through. "So where do you want it?"

The fox seems heavily distracted. A panel has been opened on the green object. There are sparkly bits inside, and some kind of string. The fox is looking inside this panel, poking with a sharp implement.

[Devilfish]

"Just bring it along with us. We've got a little formation going, so do try to make it look like you belong with us, would you?"

(Bic looks back at the group, as astounded that that had worked as they are.)
http://teachmix.com/performlit/sites/default/files/Chigurh_0.jpg

"Although, I should inspect the evidence before we proceed," he motioned for Ron to fetch it for him.
Assuming it is our stuff,
"A trophy bag?" he looks at his component pouch curiously, and holds onto it. "A holy symbol? Ha, what oddities those prisoners had," he tosses it to Boris with a laugh.

"You'll have to tell me about these," he approaches Clamore with a sinister tone. He leans in.

<<I don't expect the guards speak other languages. I want to get out of here as much as you do- but whatever the fox is working on might give us insight about what's going on here. At the first sign of trouble... do what you do best.>>

"You two can wait in the next room," he waves the guards on ahead. With any luck, they'll be out of earshot... as he leads the group towards the fox.

"What's all this, then?"

[PallentisLunam]

Clamoré scowls and snarls angrily in Chikenku, hoping to make it look like he is cursing at Bickerbeak, «Send them downstairs so we can lock the door on them! Tell them Tavin needs help or something!»

[Devilfish]

<<They add legitimacy to the act, and we risk discovery sending them down.>>

Bic repeats the dialogue in porker to Boris while en route to the fox. With any luck the man will be too engrossed in his work to them a proper evaluation.

[Space_Carnation]

The guards obediently trundle off toward the door.

"Waaaait a minute." says the fox, waving his hand. "Where do you think you're off to?"

"Uh, takin' this chest out for that guy, sir."

"And why are you doing that?"

"Uh, he said he was a h'official, like."

The fox glares at you and adjusts his glasses. "He's lying, you clods. These are the prisoners we captured earlier!"

"I dunno, sir, he seemed awfully sure."

"Awfully sure, sir." agrees the other one.

"This is nonsense! Put them back in their cells at once!"

Ron leans in on him. "You're not our boss, sir. You. Should. Move." he finishes, punctuating each word with a poke to the chest.

The fox pales and sneers. "I'll be reporting this." he runs out of the room.

The cows turn to each other smugly. That's Lakin. He thinks he's in charge because he's smart. But he just works here." They carry the chest out of the room.

The little metal thing on the table beeps. There is a glass plate on the front of it, on which an illustration of a frowny face appears. "PleeaaAAAAASE. ShutAH-TAH-TAH-TAH-TAH shut the hatch." The frowny face turns into an arrow, pointing at the open hatch.

[PallentisLunam]

Boris walks over and flips the hatch closed while getting a closer look at the thing, or should it be the creature?

Clamoré tries his hand at manipulating the guards, "If he's not your boss, how come you call him sir?"

[Devilfish]

<<That's trouble...>> Bic murmurs as the fox scampers off. He gives the guards a smirk as they go. He decides he likes Ron.

He is about to hurry the group along when he the green metal draws his attention. The caricature of it's face, in particular. Two eyes, that's simple enough. But the mouth of it... it is neither beak, nor snout, nor any animal Bickerbeak knows of. It almost looks as if

He stops.

And a tremble of anger takes hold of him.


"You know what it is."

"No."

[Devilfish]

Bickerbeak leaves the thing to its anguish for a while more. Angus looks back and forth between the two of them uncomfortably, while the chicken stares at the screen without a word. "We really should... I don't think...ohhhh"

The cow finally closes the hatch. His companion does not stop him, nor does his eyes leave the screen.

[Space_Carnation]

Boris walks over and shuts the little hatch. "Thank you!" says the thing. "REBOOTING SYSTEMS"

You get a closer look. It's about 2 feet tall, in the shape of an egg with one quarter of it cut off. In the edge of that section is square glass plate, which you are now realizing was faintly lit before, as it's gone dark now. Above the glass plate is a small dial of some kind with a red needle pointing to some markings. You don't know what the markings mean.
On the side are two little wheels. On the front of it is some embossed letters, though most of them are worn off. "G##### ##UNTER"

The cow guard, now in the next room as ordered, calls back in answer to Clamore's question. "He's technically above us, but he has no authority."

Suddenly the metal object beeps. The glass lights back up and a happy face appears once more. "Oh boy!" says the high, childlike voice from nowhere. Much better! Thank you! Who are you guys?"

[PallentisLunam]

"We're prisoners." Clamoré says pointing to himself and Fogthorne. "And the rest of these *******s are out jailers."

[Space_Carnation]

"Oh, gosh!" The face picture blinks into a frown. "I'm a prisoner too! I mapped the way out of here, but they booted my wheel!" His wheels whir and he moves to the edge of the table but stops suddenly, and you can see a yellow metal clamp on his wheel.

"My last friend called me GUNTER! It's what the letters on my front say! I'm The Ultimate Survival CompanionTM!" He actually pronounces the TM, like 'tee em'.

His voice drops to a whisper. "...are you guys trying to leave?"

[PallentisLunam]

Clamoré puts on a very serious face and scratches the side of his beak, "Oh, no. We're just being moved to a different cell. Come to think of it they'll probably want to move you with us just for convenience."

[Space_Carnation]

"Oh, okay!" it chirps. "I hope they get someone more careful to carry me this time! The last one kept scraping me against the walls! Or maybe they'll let me drive myself! If you do decide to escape, just let me know!"

One of the guards pokes his head back in. "Uhr, hey, was somebody talking about escaping? If there's been a breakout somewhere, uh, me an' Ron need to get over there."

[Devilfish]

"An escape!?" Bic swivels from the machine.

"Leave the evidence with me, we'll take care of it. Take the chest with you though- it's very important that it appears as though nothing is wrong or out of place."

"Find out what you can, and report back to me. Off! Off! Bwooook!" Bic salutes them, and frantically ushers them down the way.

After a pause he pokes his head from around the corner.

"Now would be a good time to get going. Gunter, that map would be lovely."


Angus scratches his head while sorting through the gear. "Uhh, what exactly's going on here, Gunter?"

(He looks to Bickerbeak who confirms with a nod that yes, they have no idea what's going on here)

"What are you?"

[Space_Carnation]

They dump the contents of the chest on the floor, which is everything written on your character sheet. Then they confusedly but hurriedly take off down the hall.

When Angus asks a question, the robot turns to him. "Going on where? I don't understand! As for me, I'm The Ultimate Survival CompanionTM! I can do all kinds of things! I have a drill, a flare gun, an internal compass, and this thingy!" His face disappears into an arrow pointing up at the dial on top. I don't know what it means, but when that dial is high, that's bad and you should leave!"

Then his face turns into a small map of the place. "There might be a quicker way out - this is just the way they brought me in!"

His map shows a winding path straight out. There are several gaps in the illustrated walls, you assume they mean a separate path he did not take on the way down.

[PallentisLunam]

Clamoré unlocks his shackles and quickly slips into his armor. He slings his pack over one shoulder, ties his quiver to his belt, and picks up his bow. He caresses it lovingly "Sorry about that baby. Let's go make them pay for everything."

With a sideways look at Clamoré, Boris removes the clamp from Gunter's wheel. "Come on. We're leaving and you're more than welcome to join us." he then goes and collects his things but instead of donning his armor he stuffs it in his pack. Too much time to put on and too conspicuous to wear.

[Devilfish]

Bickerbeak slips on his own gear and loads a crossbow bolt, while Angus equips [404 error, character sheet deleted].

"I leave it to you brave heroes. Lead the way."

[PallentisLunam]

"Bessy, you look the most like someone who belongs here. You lead the way. It might buy us a few seconds of surprise."

[Space_Carnation]

Fogthorne retrieves a long, thin knife and hooded cloak from the pile. "I can sneak ahead if you want." he offers. "Make sure we don't run into anybody."

Angus realizes he imagined ever having had armor or any items at all, and that he has always been a lackluster warrior in all respects. (Just note Attack +3, Damage 1d8+3, AC 13, Initiative 3)

[PallentisLunam]

Taking a long careful look at the map on Gunter's screen Clamoré says to Fogthorne "Let's do it. Quick and quiet."

[Space_Carnation]

GUNTER hops off the table. Fogthorne studies the map briefly, before skulking ahead of the group. The five of you awkwardly shuffle down the hall, trying not to make too much noise.

A few times Fogthorne returns, holding a hand up for you to stop as a patrol passes. As you make your way out he periodically ducks down some side passages while you wait. Once you even see him pocketing a purse.

It takes about half an hour at your pace, but you finally come to a large, windowed door. "This is it." whispers Fogthorne. "The entrance courtyard."

Looking through the stained crystalline window, you see cows marching in formation, doing practice drills led by a fox in a green cloak with brass shoulder pads. There are at least twenty cows from what you can see. The entire area is walled in by wooden palisades, with a large outer gate connected to a giant crank on either side.

"This looks unwise. I'm sure there's another way out." says Fog.

Down the hall, you hear the splash of a mop bucket and female giggling.

[PallentisLunam]

Clamoré puts a single talon to his beak before holding up two. He slips quickly behind a pillar and pushes tightly up against it. At the same time he lays an arrow on his bow, hoping he won't have to kill children.

[Space_Carnation]

Soon, two chickenku maids come around the corner, mop bucket in tow. They do not see you, but within moments they will clearly notice everyone else.

[PallentisLunam]

Taking the arrow from his bowstring Clamoré steps out behind the two girls and wraps his arms around them covering their beaks with his hands. Anticipating their initial struggles he holds them tightly in his arms and speaks in a calm reassuring voice, "Be still children. Nobody is going to harm you. We just need to talk and we can't have you causing a lot of noise. I'm going to let you go now, but I need you to stay quiet and still for me." Clamoré releases them and replacing his arrow in the quiver and pulling his bow across his chest he crouches down in front of the girls so that they are eye to eye. "What are your names?" he asks.

Clamoré is trying to be friendly (not exactly his strong suit) but he is also ready to catch them if they try to run away or put a hand back over their mouths if they try to yell. He has positioned them between himself and the rest of the group. Should it become absolutely necessary he is willing to deal nonlethal damage to knock them out.

[Devilfish]

"Very dangerous things, maids," Bic whispers to Angus in the background. The cow does not understand, but nods thoughtfully, whilest the chicken loads a crossbow bolt. "Now, you might think 'Coup De Grace' comes from the Swiper language by the sound of it, but interstingly, our races were all preceded by another! And they had all sorts of languages, and one of those languages..."