[IC] Remnants of Orvway

[Foryn Gilnith]

"One, two, thrust! High guard advance! Mezzato bind! Release!"

The mid-morning sun rises over the Hellknight citadel of Ordeial, peeking out over the twisting treetops of the Whisperwood. The sharp barks of an Order of the Pike drill sergeant ring out across the grassy plain, punctuated by the stamping footwork of dozens of stern-faced Hellknight initiates. Thus the morning unfolds with fiendish regularity, as it has done day after day for years on end.

Today, however, this routine has been interrupted by the appearance of a veritable tent city bordering the citadel. Valets, smiths, clerks, crossbowmen, and even the occasional adventurer are milling about, most of them bearing the crest of House Oberigo. Paracountess Artessa, sanctioned by the empress herself to recover an artifact known only as "the Cartographer", has assembled a convoy hundreds strong. As soon as Paracount Damoc says the word, they will march into the heart of the wood, seeking a passage into the perilous depths of the Darklands where gold and glory await.

That being said, the paracount has yet to arrive at the staging grounds, so at the moment everyone is merely waiting. Soldiers stand at attention, baggage handlers slouch on the ground swapping stories, and in one particular corner of the field a very heterogeneous group of mercenaries has been assembled...

[Snowbluff]

Strega "Cannonslinger" Alexander

An exceptionally tall elven woman of some description towers over the others at the convoy, looking around nervously and keeping her head down, trying, and failing to avoid attention. She's wearing a fine, lace and detail ridden outfit, primary a jacket, a skirt that's short in the front, tights, and heeled shoes, and carries a large cannon slung to her back. Despite her size, her feature are soft and delicate, and have an almost otherworldly beauty. Her hair is long and purple, and she eyes are a dazzling silver. On her head is a headband with plume.

The hellknights make her nervous. They seem like the kinds of people who would give her trouble for her smuggling history. "We will be moving soon, yes," She tells herself, nervously. She has a strange accent, and her common is slightly broken. Still, her voice is soft and light, like a feather on a breeze.

[Adamusa]

Nostalgia.

That was the foremost emotion in Castor's mind as he sat in his camp chair, the hardened wood creaking slightly under the weight of his armour. His helmet sat clutched in his hands, one thumb absently tracing the exquisite trim as his mind wandered back to days long gone. It had been nearly fifteen years since he had last been the victim of the drill sergeant's bark. A smirk flashed across his face as he remembered that a few years later, it was his voice that had the recruits jumping out of their boots in fear.

He sat there a few moments more, lost in his memories. Returning to the present, the Hellknight looked around at the people he had been pointed to upon his arrival. They were a peculiar bunch to be sure but he reserved judgement for the moment; he HAD only just met them and he was not a man prone to rash decisions. The gigantic woman holding a cannon however... that was something he hadn't seen before.

Reaching down to his right where he had dropped his pack, he rummaged through it for a few moments before pulling out a small journal, an inkpen and a small ink bottle. The writing implements seemed absurdly tiny in his armoured hands, but he handled them with the care of a man obviously at home in his armour. He flipped the journal to a blank page and carefully penned the date in before making a few small notes; nothing interesting, just general observations of what he'd seen since arriving. Perhaps not much, but Castor preferred to make sure he had all of the information at hand before kicking down someone's door. Or tentflaps, as it might be here.

[Spore]

Octavo has also risen at an early hour. As he does every morning, he checked his travelling gear to be the first to be able to leave camp. An inquisitor should be a role model, and he should not leave any avenue for criticism for the loathesome aristocracy. Everyone of his possessions is accounted for and exactly in the place it needs to be in order to proceed as planned. As is tradition, the inquisitor makes his rounds on the place, checking for changes made to the expedition team and any other news. All along the way Octavo is reading a treatise on surviving in the Darklands. Not that he isn't knowledgeable, on the contrary, but he never was down there himself. The vaults are a fascinating topic, and that the queen found hints towards a major artifact is both incredibly interesting and vastly concerning for the internal power plays of court and country.

This expedition should be his ticket to advance his position within the inquisition. All these years, he was constantly overlooked to be promoted because someone else was more ruthless, sacrificed the lives of innocent, bent the sacred laws of the land to their whims. Of course Asmodeus' infernal rules were law, but some people just overdid it with the byzantine paragraphs and inadequate torturous punishments. Fear should be instilled in the hearts of dissidents, not law abiding citizens.

But this opportunity also attracted some more - liberal, even altruistic candidates. Octavo didn't hate them but they were a risk and should be supervised, like a pack of hunting dogs. Liberty weakened the unity. It made the weak choose, and that made the whole society weaker. If he wanted this opportunity, he needed to endure this mayhem.

[In4Dimensions]

Alejandra Sellarx

Alejandra flitted among the crowd, trying not to attract attention. Her outfit- a plain brown tunic with little color or decoration- was the opposite of flamboyant. And although it might not have been obvious, she was nervous. No one but her and House Obergio knew of the dark blood pulsing through her veins, and she was worried that the others might react... violently if they knew. Whenever she felt that someone was looking her way, she glared at them, disappearing from their sight. As she grew bored, Alejandra decided to scope out the others in her group. The tall elven woman looked nice, but being near her would attract attention, and that was unwanted. The inquisitor seemed too strict. And Alejandra didn’t know much about the third. She saw him take out a journal and inkpen, and she wished she had brought one. Alejandra found a rock to sit on, and patiently waited for the show to begin.

[Just Helping]

Reda

Arriving to the staging grounds at exactly the appointed time, one of many cloaked figures joins the crowd House Oberigo summoned. Reda managed to school herself, not betraying the excitement of such a promising lead into the black blood. Even if she did not think they could reach Orv from here, the thought of doing so...

Reda grinned, shaking her head. To calm herself, she inspected the crowd -- larger than she had expected, with the most 'generously hired' pastiche of freelancers Reda had ever seen of a house of Cheliax. Hellknights were present, yes, but many anonymous hooded figures wandered the grounds, as did some more flamboyant presences. Looking up, she even saw a giant elf with a cannon!

... Wait. A cannon?

'Gunning for me'. Is that what he meant? Reda's grin had faded now, as she looked up at the elven figure. It suited her eccentric contact to make such a joke, but he had definitely meant to point out something in particular here. Whether threat or not, Reda made note of the oversized humanoid and continued on, waiting for their mission to officially begin.

[Snowbluff]

Strega "Cannonslinger" Alexander

Strega lights up when she sees another elven creature. "Hello. You are elfs, yes? Are you coming on this expedition, so we should go together." She crouches down with her knees together, one hand holding the sling close to her chest and the other patting the much shorter Reda on the head.

Strega does her best to be friendly to elves. They can't be as bad as her drow parents told her, and being nice is part of her disguise as an elf.

[Just Helping]

Reda

"Hahaha... WHAT."

[roll0]

Reda glares up at the cannon elf patting her head, confused into near-silence more than anything else. While certainly unpleasant, Reda is too thrown off her game to say much else.

[Xenopax]

The Duergar walks around with his bat in tow, chatting with all his fellow mercs. He gives a second glance at the Elf with the cannon. The recoil on that thing must be horrendous. He decides to befriend the Cannon Elf. If they had the arm strength to heft that thing, he wanted them on his side in case something went wrong.
Grendal was unhelmeted and his tattoed baldness was plain to see. His fingers were covered in jeweled rings and he had more than 5 golden rings in just one ear. If it wasn't for his bat, he'd look more like a pirate than an underground spelunker.
He walked up to the Cannon Elf and tries to remember surfacer greetings. Among dwarves they'd spend a bit going over their ancestors but he'd spent enough time above ground to know Surfacers did things differently. "Greetings. I am Grendel. Your name?" While it was extremely impolite (By Duergar standards) it felt short enough to be a good surface greeting.

[Nishai]

Raza Flameheart

Standing in the middle of the staging grounds is a near motionless armored figure. The armor covers her from head to toe and a red cloak hangs on her shoulders held on by the seal of Chelliax. Raza's head slowly turns and watches those around her. On one arm has a small metal shield bound to it joined by a long sword at her hip.

[Snowbluff]

Strega "Cannonslinger" Alexander

Strega frowns when she sees Reda's stare, and withdraws her hand and begins stroking her chin in though.

Grendle's appearance startles her. She flinches she sees him and lets out a short yell. She stops quickly and looks around nervously. She didn't expect another darklander. She's traded with Duegar before, so she normally treats them with suspicion. Still, it couldn't hurt to try and be nice. "AH yes I am Strega Alexander, proud canon singer and cannonslinger. I am pleased to be meeting you Sir Grendel." She tries to keep the greeting as long as she could without drawing too much attention. She gives a show bow with her head to Grendel.

"Now I am having trouble with fellow Elfs," Strega tells Grendle. "Let's try this again, pretty elf. I am Strega Alexander. I mean you no harm. I am here to help with expedition and beat drow," She says to Reda, this time keeping her hands to herself Screw the drow. A pile of terrible people, some of whom are hypocrites. They wouldn't accept her for her angel blood if they knew she had it, but at the same time some of her family must have had some. The rest of the drow are punks and bullies anyway.


[roll0]


[roll1]

[Adamusa]

Castor Volturnius

Castor raises his eyes from his journal at the flurry of activity. It seems that introductions are in order. The burly Hellknight stashes the book and assorted stationery away in his pack and stands up, carefully replacing his helmet as he does so. He walks over to the small group that has formed and looks at each of them in turn, his abilities showing him their auras. Quite a mix he thinks.

"My greetings to all of you. I am Castor Volturnius, Maralictor of the Order of the Nail. I suppose you are all here for the same reason I am?" he says, his voice acquiring a peculiar rasp through his helmet.

[Spore]

Octavo stands a few feet away in a location where is not found staring. His inquisitorial mask does the rest to hide where he looks or which expression he makes. All it shows is a hollow expression of nothingness. When Castor approaches, the scholar finally feels comfortable enough to approach the chaotic mess of an expedition group. He stands purposely a few feet behind and to the side of Castor, whom he assumes is a beacon of order in a case of a spontaneous violent uprising or worse: hugs.

Closing his book slowly, he stares at the group for a little while longer while concentrating on observing their most instinctive and basic natures, their ties to the planes of order and chaos, of heaven and hell.

"Enlightening." he murmurs, before quickly replying with his hand not extended to greet everyone but neatly tucked behind his back. "You have already met Maralictor Volturnius, I see. My name is Octavo Axilla. I am the chief advisor for the darklands, and also represent the blessing of the inquisitorial branch." He bows just enough not to show an opening for a dagger or similar.

Almost not visible to the naked eye, Octavo squints for a bit before addressing the elephant-sized elf in the courtyard. "Did....did the drow get you? And why are you carrying a sanctioned siege weapon around?" Octavo pulls out a small black book and scribbles something into it.

[Foryn Gilnith]

As the party familiarizes themselves with each other, a weedy little sprout of a man approaches from the crowd of hooded black robes that marks the scriveners' tent. With a flick of his gloved hand, the space over his head is Illuminated by glowing red lines forming the Asmodean pentagram, and the sound of trumpets blaring out a fanfare can be heard.

"Gather round! Everyone contracted under the HA-3 pay grade, collect yourselves and gather round. You should listen too, Sellarx, there's new information in this briefing." Having delivered opening remarks, the man clears his throat and attempts to make eye contact with each of the assembled adventurers in turn. His eyes glow red with the same hue and intensity as the symbol above him, casting light on pale cheeks and a sharp Taldan nose.

"I am Demibaron Sabinus, accounting lead for House Oberigo. And you all," he says, giving Strega a complicated grimace before continuing, "are the most efficient vanguard money could buy. Given the circumstances of this expedition. Normally you would report to the paracount, but a problem has arisen that needs to addressed before he arrives: scouts we sent ahead to clear the brush have been waylaid by some sort of forest creatures. Fey folk, perhaps; I don't know the details, and Dukes willing you'll do your job well enough that I won't have to. You are to rendezvous with a member of the scout corps at the forest's edge, follow the planned path to the Scar Thicket, and ensure nothing remains standing that could possibly stand against us. Is this clear?"

[Spore]

"These fey will be crushed under the iron hand of Cheliax. Mocking us will be the last thing they will ever do wrong on our soil. Do you want prisoners? Or even spies that act under magical compulsion? Or should we slaughter them all?" Octavo's eyes burn with zeal as Sabinus approaches him. He keeps eye contact and bows, this time farther down, more trusting towards the demibaron. When he turns his head back up, the demibaron simply nods at his question. Slaves are always welcome.

He then turns to the group once the demibaron is finished and gone. I need a tracker and spy that can aid me. And we need to decide how we approach the fey, and how to spring their little trap once we found them.

[Adamusa]

The Maralictor's face is thunderous underneath his helmet and you can practically hear his teeth grinding as he processes this information. Barbarous fey dared attack the upstanding folk of Cheliax? It would not stand, not if he had anything to say about it.

"I will strike against civilisation's foes, braving both thicket and darkness," he growls, reciting the tenants of the Order of the Nail in a harsh voice. "I will be the face that monsters dread; fierce, sharp and unflinching. You have my word that these enemies will be shattered before my anger," the Hellknight finishes, crashing a fist against his breastplate in salute.

As Octavo makes his request, Castor turns to him. "I am no spy, but I can follow tracks. A necessity when hunting down vermin like these," he spits, his tone venomous.

[Just Helping]

Reda

Before Reda could properly respond to the unusual elf, the Demibaron addressed the group -- Reda could only nod in recognition to the eccentric cannoneer. Thankfully, he got to the point quickly: the first assignment for the vanguard. Some fey were interfering with Chelaxian operations and had to be dealt with before the actual expedition could start. Of course it's fey. Can't just go underground, we have to go fight more fey. *sigh* Here we go again.

Reda paid attention to Octavo and Castor's initial planning -- Reda had no concern for taking slaves at all, but these two seemed to have their act together well enough to go along with for now. After all, fey were not fun to try and bargain with. "I am Reda, and if I might be so bold..."

Reda gestures to Strega, and her large cannon weapon. "One well-placed shot of that ought to break their formation, well enough for my magic to deal with whatever remains." Reda looks up to Strega, cuing her to comment on her firepower.

[Snowbluff]

Strega Cannonslinger Alexander

Strega, still crouching, is taken aback. "Excuse me, but it is not elfs-like to be attacking fey randomly," she says to Reda. "This cannon has the drows' names on it, not fey. You are better, so behave like proper elfs, please.'' She turns her head to the Demibaron. "As for you, law human Sir, I propose we parley with the fey before we try to fight them. There are many reasons for this. Firstly, I do not wish to fight forest creatures. Before you complain 'oh you bleeding heart,' I am here under agreement for Darklands mission, and it is only under my goodness I would help resolve matter at all. Secondly, fighting fey is waste of time. If we remove fey without resources then those resources, be it time, ammunition, or equipment, could be put towards actual mission that is not waste of my time. Failing that, I will help waste time and ammo. Is this agreeable?"


[roll0]

[Spore]

"I don't assume we will be needing artillery fire for a few capricious tricksters. And if you can make a deal with your kind, I am all for it. the second they mock the glorious Empire or Asmodeus, any negotiations are forfeit." Octavo mentions with an annoyed tone. "If your arms can carry this, they can swing a weapon. Try not to injure yourself. As for you, Maralictor, I think it is better you keep your eyes peeled for those monsters. I will guide us to them, with the guidance of the Prince of Darkness. As for everyone else, I care little if you fight these things with spells, blade or are merely stupefying them to death as long as you position yourself correctly."

As soon as his monologue is finished, Octavo incants a short and simple prayer to his god, Asmodeus. It is a spell that grants an obvious advantage to find tracks if there are any. Of course, fey are tricksters and many of them are able to run around in the wild without leaving tracks. If they do leave some, it is best to assume a trap. The inquisitor started off in a stiff and rather uncomfortable manner. Not the more skilled warriors can see that each of his steps is measured in distance and done purposefully. You begin to wonder if he really is as harmless as he lets on.

Casting Deadeye's Lore for +4 to Survival
Survival check: [roll0]
I am hinting at the fact that Octavo's biggest advantage for the group is his position in combat. If you flank with him, you can get +4 to your attack. He's skilled but he also doesn't look nearly as buff as Castor.

On another note, I have decided to not accept social interaction under PCs via rolls. I don't like it. It is mere coincidence that I reluctantly accepted Strega's idea and her middling diplomacy roll somehow aligned with that. Intimidation will be ignored in direct interactions I will RP a subliminal fear for the next post but please just refrain from trying to bluff, scare or sweet talk other PCs into doing something. I will however accept logic and good arguments in the place of social rolls - like Strega's argument of saving money.

[Foryn Gilnith]

The demibaron looks at Strega and blinks several times, surprised to be addressed so directly by the colossus of an elf. His eyes shift to a less luminous shade of red, and several emotions wage a fierce skirmish for control over his facial muscles. In the end, however, laughter wins the day. "Hah! Lords below, you are a creature after my own penny-pinching heart. Indeed, nature spirits are hardly worth the iron used to shoot them down, and we only need to clear a path to the Darklands entrance rather than make enemies of the whole forest.

However, as the honorable inquisitor has surmised, this forest is very much in the habit of making enemies of us. Parley as you will, but keep in mind that the smiths and baggage carriers who will be marching a few hours behind you are softer than larval lemures. If you win an agreement through force but fail to sign it in our enemies' blood, there's no telling how they'll try to renegotiate terms once fresh, vulnerable prey presents itself."

[Yasahiro]

Veiss Venomania

Running between the trees, weaving and dodging narrowly as he maintained his speed, he saw a group of people already gathered at designated place and skid to a halt, kicking up what seemed to be sparks among the dust. Not even panting, he eyed the person with glowing pentagram around their head.

"Sorry, I got delayed by a few would-be bandits along the way. I am not too late, I assume-?" his words caught up in his throat as, while checking over the people gathered, he found he had to move his eyes up... and up... and up to meet the face of an enormous elf lady. Wielding a massive cannon that seemed to be as big as her.

"...What's the weather up there?"

[Spore]

A sharp gaze meets the newcomer. It's not meant to intimidate, but to check out the newcomer. "Another difficult variable." Octavo whispers.

"I am Inquisitor Octavo Axilla and this is Maralictor Castor Volturnius. We will lead this expedition in the name of Cheliax to reclaim something in the Orvway for the empire. Are you the latecomer?" You could swear something moved into a frown of disapproval under Axilla's mask. He continues to stare for a while, you feel almost naked to his piercing stare.

Using Detect Alignment: first, detect chaos, then good, then evil.

[Adamusa]

Castor Volturnius

Castor turns around as the newcomer arrives. His senses flare as he detects the chaotic aura flaring off of the new arrival, but the Knight does not go for his weapon. Instead, he speaks.

"I thank you for your introduction, Octavo, but I am perfectly capable of doing so myself and you need not act as my herald," he says, his voice still carrying a hint of a growl but far less than it was previously. He takes a step forward towards the fiery latecomer.

"Represent yourself flaming one, then confirm your duty here," he rumbles, eyes boring a hole into the object of his focus.

[Snowbluff]

Strega "Cannonslinger" Alexander

"Very well, but I talk first, shoot later," Strega reaffirms.

"Hello. The weather is the same up here than it is down there, but it's nicer the further you get from the ground," She tells Veiss. She sees Octavo also staring and says, "I'm flattered but you're making me blush. Please no staring." She covers her face with her hands bashfully.


she's a level 10 CG outsider

[Yasahiro]

Veiss Venomania

He nodded towards the giant elven woman "Just never seen an elf that's so tall, is all..."

Then his gaze moved back towards Castor and Octavo. "Veiss Venomania, and yes I am the newcomer that meant join the expedition. Is that a problem?"

Momentarily, to those that looked at his aura it seemed as if it just flared for moment, as if in defiance, as he withstood their piercing stares. He was used to worse and he was not ashamed of who and what he was.

[Adamusa]

Castor Volturnius

Castor simply nods at Veiss.

"There is no problem, but I must follow procedure," he says. Having said his piece, he turns back to the Demibaron.

"Is the briefing concluded or is there aught else we should be aware of before our departure?"

[Spore]

Of course, Maralictor. Octavo answers through gritted teeth. Hellknights...

Then you are welcome. Pack your things, we are moving out to kill some fey creatures. Octavo snaps at Veiss. His patience is not limited but he had enough.

[Foryn Gilnith]

"There is but one thing," Sabinus says, taking out an opaque metal vial and pressing it into Castor's armored hand. "Once you've cleared a path to the caves in the Scar Thicket - you'll know them when you see them since they're large enough to march an army through - hold position and have one of you drink this. Your location will be sent to the paracountess, who will arrive to debrief you; the main host will follow forthwith. With that said: dismissed."

The party then sets off into the Whisperwood, guided by Octavo's magically heightened senses as well as the expert input of [[anyone else who wants to RP as a survivalist]]. The hunting trails are clearly marked by notches in the trees, as is the path of the scouts who came before you. What little light makes it to the forest floor without being choked off by leaves takes on a weird and almost twilit hue despite the fact that it's midday. The trees' branches shudder and sway in response to the wind, blowing back and forth like the breath of a great beast whose ribs are rising and falling.

Visuals aside, however, the forest sounds at peace. The steady beat of the party's footsteps is punctuated by birdsong and the occasional rustle of a hare or other varmint dashing from the bush it was hiding in. At times the trail leads across a brook or a small cliff but those pose no trouble to traverse; indeed, even the heap of boulders that the party has just arrived at shouldn't take more than half a minute to clamber across...

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a halfling-shaped mass of motile plant life leaning on a tree. It's hard to tell since the mass of vegetation has no facial features or eyes, but it doesn't seem to be paying attention to you.As the wind whistles through the trees, your ear catches an irregularity in the tone of the sound - and soon after, your eye catches sight of several spots in the forest that remain unnaturally still as the wind blows. There are at least half a dozen masses of humanoid-shaped plant life in your direct line of sight, some as small as gnomes and some as large as orcs. They blend almost seamlessly with the forest and even your practiced eyes strain to see them, so there's no telling how many more there might be.

However, they are standing stock still and do not appear to be doing anything, or even to have noticed the party. Perhaps this is just the natural state of flora within the Whisperwood.From your position on point, you catch a glimpse of a halfling-shaped mass of plant life. Judging from its color and texture, this is one of the "moldfolk", a plant creature related to the caustic substance "russet mold". However, most moldfolk have visible eyes, mouths, and hair; this creature is completely covered with an indistinct mass of foliage that snakes down over its "skin" and into the ground. If this makes it a variant species, it's not one that you've read anything of before.

It's hard to tell without facial features, but from your well-honed intuition you get the sense that it has been waiting for the party. You get the sense that it's not friendly. You get the sense that it's not alone.

[Spore]

Octavo signals the others to stop and falls back for a bit. Octavo draws a small but flawless pentagram into the dirt and suceeds at summoning 6 hellhounds. The creatures advance in a half-moon formation, stalking through the underbrush. He then signals Castor and casts Bless on the entire party, granted the ambush has not been detected.

Summoned 1d4+2 = 6 Hellhounds (+4 Str/Con)
Stealth results Hellhounds: 22, 19, 14, 21, 17, 20
Stealth result, Octavo: 37 (if I can stealth when casting a spell)
If i succeed on stealthing, I'd cast bless on the hounds and party

[In4Dimensions]

Alejandra stops at Octavio’s symbol. Noticing the odd life form, she quickly makes it the focus of her psychic glare. Then, as she starts to fade from its view, she prepares a mental trick to be activated later.

Use my Hypnotic Stare on the plant thing as a swift action. I gain concealment against it, improving to invisibility next turn, and it takes a -4 penalty to Perception. I also add the effects of my Bold Stare Timidity, which gives a -1 penalty to attack rolls.
As a standard action, implant the mesmerist trick False Flanker, which can be activated as an immediate action.

[Adamusa]

Castor Volturnius

Castor halts the moment Octavo gives the signal. He can't see anything but he knows his vision isn't the sharpest and the sounds of the forest are dulled by his helmet.

The Hellknight says nothing and shifts his halberd into a two-handed grip, the pennon attached below the axe-blade fluttering with the movement. He slides into a combat pose, readying himself to strike at the first foe he sees.

Readying an action to charge at the first enemy that I can see.

[Just Helping]

Reda

Reda saw something in the trees, and looked to the others to see who else had noticed. Octavo held them up, and Reda smirked. She stole a careful glance up at the giant elf to confirm that Strega wasn't about to try and talk anyone down. Thankfully, the elf had not begun her misguided plan. With the others looking ready to charge, or summoning minions to engage in melee, Reda knew what spell to cast. Looking away from the elf, she cast.

[roll0] for how much HP Reda grants the hand.

A spectral hand appears at the front of the party, alongside the hellhounds.

[Yasahiro]

Veiss Venomania

Upon seeing the signal he himself stopped and just looked around, trying to observe the situation as he got into fighting pose

[Xenopax]

Grendel takes his shotgun out and tells his bat to lower it's altitude a bit. He grunts to warn anyone who hadn't seen the plants yet. He gets ready to blast if they try anything funny.