Apocalypse Northwest

[stinkomandx]

Wiltshire

Wiltshire, founded before the bombs went off, has seen some rough times in its life. The invasion of '15, the marauder attack of '56, and the Kerosene Creeper explosion a couple years back in '68. Now, in 2070, most of the population is settled in to peace and quiet. Sure, the occasional raiders test the perimeters, but between the one bridge in to town and the continued dedication of Josey Wales and his (his) Enforcers, there's not too much danger on the average day.

Friday, 8-6-70

It's relatively cool outside--85 degrees with a breeze. The dust storms aren't as bad this year as usual, thanks in large part to the town's botanist, Gerard Ansiem. He cross-bred a resilient strain of grass last year, and it's keeping the ground inside and directly outside the town exactly the way God intended it--grounded. And speaking of Gerard Ansiem, that's where you are all headed right now.

On Friday nights, a group of Wiltshire's less-than-rich can visit Ansiem's greenhouse, where he offers up a meal prepared by himself and the group of orphans he has gathered over the years. Later tonight, a mutual acquaintance of...well, pretty much everyone in town...by the name of Madam Butler will be celebrating the grand opening of Wiltshire's new bordello.

So right now you're nearing the Greenhouse. Introduce yourself in the way you see fit.

[OneFamiliarFace]

Trainwhistle Jenkins, Ex-Blackgold-Prospector Extraordinaire

Trainwhistle Jenkins is a man aged beyond his years. He looks like a thin strip a leather, just got itself dragged through a coal-field in the middle a June. With his grizzled, grey beard and frizzled, grey hair, he squints one eye when he talks. A long, brown, leather coat covers the random assortment of clothes he has thrown together: a pair of old ragged jean coveralls with only one suspender, a black t-shirt sporting the phrase "I Ain't Yo Grandpa," and a pair of nearly destroyed red sneakers, kept together with duct tape, spit, and a little ingenuity. A leather cap sits on his head, crowned by his favorite pair of weldin' goggles. A multicolored, cloth satchel hangs over his shoulder and holds the few possessions that won't fit in his pockets.

Pokin out his back is the barrel of what looks to be a shotgun. An overly large wrench with one too many dents hangs from his belt, along with a small fire exintinguisher, polished bright red. He has a pickaxe slung over his shoulder, and an old pipe hangin from one corner of his mouth, which he sucks on to taste the last of the homegrown that he ran out of some weeks back.

Trainwhistle scuffs at the ground with his shoe and spits. "Hock-pitooey! I'll be damned if'n I don't gotta go beggin' at this galldarned scientist's house for scraps agin. Wuddya say, Williams? We could hit the outside and see if we couldn't bash us up a nice bit o mutant meat." He pats Ol' Bashy at his side, and looks suggestively at his partner, winking every few seconds or so until he is answered.

[Malconstant]

Kurt Vescher, Ex computer programmer.

Kurt spits on the ground and proceeds to grind the spit into the ground with his heel under the mistaken impression that it makes him look tough. He slips out a piece of rabbit jerky and tucks it against his gums. He can't chew it without hurting his teeth, a fact which is partially due to his crude attempts at homemade jerky, and partially because a relatively recent but severe decline in basic dental care. By the time it's his turn in line, he is visibly grateful for the soup and thanks the orphan with a wink. With a maneuver that's a few times shy of "well practiced" Kurt swings Erwin (his rifle) over to his other arm to comfortably eat.

For those who knew only very little about him, his demeanor while eating off in a corner would have seemed to have been that of a man in deep thought. He was in fact reminiscing about an adolescent song he had once come across. The words went as follows:

Wendy said she'd get some lumber
Left the room and buckled under
Till she was alone and sighed
Raised her left leg three feet high
Sent a breeze that curdled sap
Her butt cheeks echoed "FLAP FLAP FLAP"

In the last line you are supposed to clap three times to imitate the flapping sound, though Kurt managed to catch himself before actually clapping along.

[Freeborg]

Fredrick "Colorado" Williams Jr. - Ex-professor but still and archaeologist

Colorado Williams walks next to Trainwhistle on their way to Ansiem's. He's a man of middle height with rugged good looks. He prefers going by Colorado both to distance himself from his father and as an homage to the family cat he had when he was younger. He sports a fedora, a tan dress shirt, some khaki pants and some leather boots. Since it is relatively cool, he also wears his leather jacket. On his right hip he has a holster carrying Mable, his trusty revolver. On his left hip hangs The Lion Tamer, a bull whip that Colorado is fond of. Next to that is a knife. Colorado is thumbing through his fathers journal which he has read countless times and could probably recite from memory.

Behind Colorado walks his "mobile lab", Percy. Percy is short, round donkey that is loaded up with Colorado's mechanical and electrical kits and parts along with some books and other odds and ends.

Colorado looks down at the ground where both Trainwhistle and Kurt decided they would start their spittle farm and swallows before he says, "Normally I would agree with you, Trainwhistle, but you know Percy doesn't like mutant meat. He needs some grains." Colorado tucks the journal in his shirt pocket and pats Percy on the snout.

[Malconstant]

Kurt looks up and smiles a little sheepishly at Colorado. Well now I suppose it wouldn't hurt me none to get a hold of a little proper meat. Suppose we go and sell some of it too for a bushel of wheat? Kurt continues to savor his soup. Not because it was good soup, even in relative terms, it tasted as though it came out of the wrong end of a mutant. He paused to consider what the wrong end would mean before reaffirming his position on the matter.

But something about the act of it all, in a world where your average person considers murder on a daily basis for a few coins, here's a man who puts out what is rightfully his and just gives it away to his neighbors. Not from any fear of god, but almost for the very sake of ensuring there is something beautiful to hold on to. The thought made Kurt weak in the knees, so he continued to sit and savor his soup.

[stinkomandx]

In the Greenhouse

Gerard's oldest orphan, a middle-teenager named Arnold Reeder, takes Percy by the reigns and leads him to a corner where a few other beasts of burden are nibbling at hay. A sprinkler system in another corner is hard at work watering some of the crops.

Gerard himself is a middle-aged man with a fine, Mark Twainsian mustache. He's busy walking around mingling with the guests, and he doesn't pay much attention to any one person. You can, however, make a Listen check if you're interested in the conversation, or call him over and talk to him yourself.

Otherwise, not a whole lot of action goes on until a woman wearing what appears to be only a closed full-length leather jacket comes in.
"Ladies, and especially Gentlement--the finest new establishment in Wiltshire, Madam Butler's Red Light Show, would like to welcome you to our grand opening later tonight. All are welcome...especially those with surplus Trade." With that, she turns gracefully and walks back into the dusk.

[OneFamiliarFace]

Trainwhistle Jenkins, 10-dollar Whore Entrepenuer

Trainwhistle sidles up to the line and takes his food with scarcely a grumble and a mumble (certainly without a hoot or a hollar) and casts a few glances at Gerard that would have made Stink-eye Smiles hisself prouder 'n a mama cat who just had her litter before Labor Day. He takes a seat next to the gentleman who appears to be talking to himself and humming some tune, and begins eats his food moodily, the entire spoon handle wrapped inside of his leathery hand, shoving food into the side of his mouth without the pipe.

When Madame Butler makes her appearance, Trainwhistle perks up. "Boy howdy. Now there's a womin a man wouldn't mind tradin a battry or two for just a couple minutes with." As she finishes her announcement, the old coot starts bangin the table and whistlin like the trains he so loves. When she is gone, Trainwhistle turns back to his companions, his food now forgotten. "Well boys, you can bet yer bottom battry where Ol' Trainwhistle Jenkins'll be ternight! Why I ain't bin ter a good House o Ill Repute since before mah skin was leatherier n a snake with sunburn!"

[Merlin the Tuna]

Flint Ironstag - Knuckle dragger, knuckle biter

The most magnificent slab of a man the world has ever known steps in the door just as Madame Butler makes her exit. He's dressed simply, in blue jeans, a white tank top stretched tightly over his heroically fit chest, and a large, open camo jacket hanging loosely over it all. The adonis fumbles with his belt, still undone from relieving himself outside moments earlier, as his eyes follow the woman out the door. "Hell of a woman right there..." the mountain of muscle mutters before bumping into an empty table.

Flint shakes his supremely masculine head, finally buckles his jeans, and peels a backpack off of his broad, dare-I-say Herculean shoulders. The glint of handcuffs peek out from underneath his jacket in the process, reminding any who had forgotten that this was one of Josey's boys. He's otherwise unarmed, at least until one takes into account his cannon-like biceps.

He lumbers towards the food and collects a bowl of what is usually his best meal of the week. With a plunk, thump, and a ka-doom, he heavily drops his bowl, bag, and butt in their appropriate places across from Colorado. "Looks like I missed the big announcement. Is Miss Butler finally opening her doors tonight? I just wonder which ones!" His dopey grin reveals pretty clearly that he's proud of his joke, and he offers a fist to Colorado, looking for a pound from the nearest excuse for a man this has to offer.

[Freeborg]

Colorado Williams - An educated man, emphasis on man

Colorado looks at the leather wrapped boulder that is Flint's fist in front of him and chuckles as he completes the pound knowing that he'll just get punched in the shoulder if he doesn't. He thinks of the things that have met their end by those fists as he shakes off the effects of the fist-pound. "Miss Butler is indeed a fine woman. I wonder how negotiable the prices are?" says Colorado as he rubs some food from his chiseled jaw.

Colorado gets up and returns his bowl. He wanders over to Gerard. "A fine meal as always, Gerard. How are the crops doing? I see the sprinkler system is working fine."

[stinkomandx]

Gerard nods to Colorado's appreciation of the food. The sprinklers have never been better! It seems Ms. Hornsworth can fix things beyond those ghastly combustibles after all. The crops are doing pretty well this year, too--that latest helping of decomposing biological matter, was JUST what the doctor ordered. And I think that with any luck, most of our food worries will end QUITE soon.

He chuckles and moves on, eventually stopping next to a man dressed in what appears to be bright red leather armor. He is standing by the back door, with his arms crossed. The two speak to each other quietly. (Spot Check for anyone interested)

Within minutes after Madam Butler's arrival, the room starts to empty. Arnold the teenage helper leads the other kids in cleaning up plates from the vacant spots.

[OneFamiliarFace]

Trainwhistle Jenkins, Man of Refined Tastes (oil refined, that is! black gold!)

Trainwhistle Jenkins stands up with a "Yeehowdy" and stretches, then, arms akimbo, he stares at his compatriots. "Well, is you bunch a yellow-bellied mutant snakes gonna foller me, or am I ta enjoy the eentire whorehouse by mahself? Don't think I couldna do it! Trainwhistle Jenkins may look old, but he still has more sex n him than the lot o you combined."

Sliding one finger behind his overall strap, Trainwhistle stomps one foot mightily onto the bench on which the others is resting their laurels. "Weel, if ya'lls gonna set around like a buncha warts on a three-horned horny-toad, then Trainwhistle is gonna get his caboose on over to see if Madame Butler has room in her bed for an old man with black gold in his veins!"

As he exits the place in a hurry, a dust cloud is thrown up when he jumps up in the air and clicks both his heels together like a young boy in love. "Yeeboy! Trainwhistle Jenkins ain't stoppin the 'ol Iron Horse tonight lessen he hits Crazy Town afore the dawn!"

[stinkomandx]

The Red Light Show

Kurt, Colorado, Trainwhistle, and Flint--along with a moderately sized line of Wiltshire natives--make their way north through town, over the Mason Creek bridge, into the poor sector of town. The buildings are small and packed tight, although they're well-made and not in any state of disrepair. Madam Butler's building is large and well-lit, with women standing at the door beckoning people to enter--the music is audible from blocks away.

Inside, the show is just starting out. Women dance in feathered boas, can-can lines abound, a couple men dressed as raiders pretend to chase people around stage in between telling lewd jokes, and the crowd eats it up. Beer is not uncommon.

You notice a few city natives sitting around, including Doctor Freeman, with his medical bag handcuffed to his wrist, sitting next to a fairly large Latino man. Standing in the back is the man in red leather armor that you saw back at the Greenhouse. Now, however, he has a Large-sized wolf standing next to him (Anyone trained in Know(Nature), Handle Animal, or Spot, please make a check). He seems incredibly interested in the show, barely taking his eyes off it the entire time.

(I promise we'll get to combat within the next 3 of my posts. I'll progress after we get a couple characters' worth of posts here at the show.)

[Malconstant]

Kurt Vescher, he tries.

Although politely not staring at the noticeable man with the wolf earlier, Kurt's curiosity steals a few looks in between the debauchery (8+7 = 15). After a few drinks, Kurt finds himself fitting in with the atmosphere more naturally. He stumbles his way through the dense crowd over to the man in red leather armor and slaps him on the back in a friendly, if drunkenly aggressive, way. What's a matter friend? Never seen a bird of such colors before? Haha. He sips from his bottle and gives a hearty cheer to the performers. To tell the truth, I hain't seen nothin like this in all my years. Some fine lookin girls up there. Say, friend, I don't think I've had the pleasure of seein you around these parts before. The name's Kurt. He stretches his hand out for a shake. (Note, he goes through this conversation practically regardless of the man's response, unless I suppose the initial spot check noticed something which would have kept him from approaching the man at all).

[OneFamiliarFace]

Trainwhistle Jenkins, nuf a this.

Between all his hootin' and a hollerin', Trainwhistle manages to switch his pipe to the other side and cast a squint-eyed glare about the room. He takes a moment to admire the fine bit o' god's work standing next to the man in red leather. Then he spends the rest of his time admiring the fine bit o the devil's work dancin on stage in front of him.

If he can catch the eye of a pretty one, he tries to impress her with a jaunty barn dance.

Spoiler

Show

Holy crap, I have ranks in Handle Animal.

Handle Animal: (1d20+4)[6]
Spot: (1d20+1)[17]
Perform (Dance): (1d20+1)[20]

How'd I do, doc?

[Merlin the Tuna]

Flint Ironstag

"I've done a couple a rescues in my time, but I don't think any of them'll be worth as much as the girl I save from having to spend a night with that friend of yours," Flint whispers to Colorado. Of course, given the amount of noise, it's more of a slightly-quieter-than-everything-else yell.

His eyes drift back and forth between the women, his drink, and his goblin of a companion for a while, taking entirely too long to notice the man in red's presence. "The leather, fine. A man needs his protection these days. But the animal... that looks like trouble brewing," he actually whispers to himself. The officer finishes off his drink in a hurry, drops his glass, and fastens the bottom of his camo jacket -- enough to hide his washboard-like trunk, but not nearly enough to hide the fact that he looks like he was born on Mount Olympus. He bites his lip as he tracks his new friend Kurt, with whom he shared an apparently nondescript but probably quite enjoyable dinner.

Spot Check: 6+4=10

[Freeborg]

Colorado Williams

Colorado surveys the action around him and approves. He downs his first beer and grabs another. He looks at his friend Trainwhistle and shakes his head as he knows some girl might have the worst night of her life tonight. He leans over to Flint and says, "Yeah, but I don't want to see Trainwhistle tomorrow if we stop him tonight. The man has needs."

He glances over at the man in red leather and his dog and then to Dr. Freeman and the large latino man. He tries to figure out what Kurt is saying to him, but gets distracted by one of the girls with a boa. Colorado unbuttons his shirt to show a little more chest hair and makes his way toward the girl. As he does, he starts to bring out his whip to show her some tricks, but then reminds himself that now is not the time. Not yet.

Spot: (11-1) = 10

[stinkomandx]

Red Light Show

(Anyone rolling a 15 or higher--Kurt and Trainwhistle--on their checks notice the tell-tale signs that the wolf is not a biological organism. Its lack of breathing, its too-perfect features, or its extreme focus give it away)

To Kurt: The man stares at Kurt with steely indifference while Kurt speaks. He doesn't give a name when Kurt extends his hand in greeting, offering only a "Pleasure." The wolf's eyes follow you almost like a painting from Scooby Doo--its body barely moves.


To Trainwhistle: Somehow, Trainwhistle notices the wolf's eccentricites while dancing what may be the best barn dance we will see on these boards. He attracts the attention of a not-entirely-homely, not-entirely-elderly woman who sees through his grisly, filthy exterior into the heart of a grizzled, jovial old coot. She bats her eyes and joins him on the dance floor (Perform Dance: 17+2=19) "Name's Edna!"

The evening progresses--characters with charisma's over 8 getting cozy with a girl if they so desire...until about midnight, when the door at the back suddenly opens in. Not a whole lot of heads turn--many have left for the night (including Freeman and the latino, but not the red-armored man), and those who didn't leave are a little intoxicated). Nevertheless, you recognize one of Gerard Ansiem's orphans looking around frantically, looking more ill than you've ever seen anyone look. He's pale, he's barely able to stand, and he seems to be sweating so much that liquid is pouring off him. He mutters "Somebody please...the greenhouse is..."...shortly before falling forward, hitting the ground and bursting into a dull pink foamy stew with bones.

Edna and any remaining conscious people scream, panic, and run.

[OneFamiliarFace]

Trainwhistle Jenkins, disappointed bachelor

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me! I bin workin all night for a bit o' that sweet Edna. Ah well, womin like at'n 'ulda cost me my fire extinguisher." Upon finally noticed the pink pulp that was the orphan, Trainwhistle doesn't even flinch. Instead, he resolutely switches his pipe from mouth to pocket and looks around for someone to agree with him.

"Galdarnit, I told them scientist types agin an agin, you caint mess with Lady Nature, because her askin price ain't no set o battries. It's the soul a our youngsters! And look where it gits us!" He points dramatically at the pink mess while loosening Ol' Bashy from its holster. His red shoe slides along the floor as he accidentally steps in it running out. Brandishing his trusty weapon, Trainwhistle Jenkins roars into the night.

"I'll be damned if'n Ol' Bashy don't meet with the head o whatever mutant plant monster ats keepin ol' Trainwhistle from injoyin his night!"

[Freeborg]

Colorado Williams

Colorado was in fact getting cozy with a lady when the child burst in. He was about to ask if the lady would like to go upstairs and see some whip tricks before the interruption. He pulls out a hankie and wipes some of the pink goo off the lady's dress and says, "You just wait right here. I'll go take care of this and then we can pick up where we left off."

Colorado carefully folds his hankie and returns it to his pocket hoping he can analyze this sample of what's left of the child later. He hears Trainwhistle take off into the night and looks for Kurt and Flint and nods toward the greenhouse. He swings out the cylinder and makes sure Mable is still loaded. Snapping shut the cylinder and unfastening his whip, Colorado jogs after Trainwhistle to see what caused this mess.

[Merlin the Tuna]

Flint Ironstag is the Law

When the child bursts in, Flint is in the process of filling his glass with another drink -- his third water in a row. "Damnit. I knew something had to be up, and it's had me off my game all night. Pain bein' right about these things. the behemoth thinks. When the orphan explodes and/or melts, Flint half-drops, half-spikes his cup and snarls. Not missing a beat, he grabs one of the fleeing menfolk by the arm and barks an order at the coward. "Listen! Somebody's gotta get word down to Josey Wales, and tonight it's gonna be you. Get your ass to him on the double and tell him that Flint's dealing with big trouble at the Gerard's greenhouse." He pulls the peon inches away from his face, locking eyes with him. "Now go." He then whips the man around and gives him a bit of a shove to get going.

Intimidate: 18+6=24

Our favorite mountain of a man turns his attention back to his companions for the evening and opens his mouth to get them moving only to find that they've already started bolting out the door. Flint breaks into a flawless stride after them, not unlike some sort of majestic, powerful, puma-man.

[stinkomandx]

To Flint

The peasant that Flint manhandles looks up fearfully at the mound of muscle and stutters out a "S..s..sure man, alright!" before running out the door.

No "Mutant Plant Monster" Here...

The run back to the greenhouse is quick and determined. When the greenhouse comes in to view, it's clear something is wrong. The frosted glass of the building show flickering lights inside, and you see the silhouette of something moving around.

Arnold, Ansiem's eldest orphan, comes stumbling out through the double doors. "Please, Elliot and Jeni are still inside..." He falls to his knees, and you can tell that he is in a state similar to the boy from the bordello. His (surely insane, and probably completely lacking in plot hints) rambling continues..."I meant to do it just like the man in red said, with the yellow serum and then the blue, but I forgot the yellow, and now the blue is in there with that thing..." His words from there become incomprehensible, as he slowly dissolves.

The doors to the building lay open, and you can tell that beyond the entryway room, is the room with the big moving thing.

(You can go ahead and add an initiative roll any checks you feel like making )

[OneFamiliarFace]

Trainwhistle Jenkins, First Aids

Trainwhistle stops with a skid as the youngster runs out. Red, yellow, blue, yellow... The old coot grabs his head with his free hand as a mighty pain erupts in his ears over all this thinkin and what for. His grip on his wrench tightens as he shakes it off, back to a dull throb not unlike many he has suffered in his nether regions for some of his poorer choices in the whorehouses of Oiltown.

He mumbles, half to the pink pulp and half to hisself: "Boy, you shulda known not to mess with any science. Nor with any men in red. Most times ey'll be wearin it so'sn ey can git bloodier 'an a beat up prostitute at the end o her cycle and still look cleaner than my momma the day she died in the bleach vat." A flare in his eyes and and a bonfire in his brain, Trainwhistle Jenkins leaps forward, planning on painting the greenhouse red.

Checks and mates:

Spoiler

Show

Spot: (1d20+1)[12] (fer lookin inta the greenhouse)
Initiative: (1d20+1)[9]

[Malconstant]

Kurt isn't sure what to do with the robot wolf, so he lets it go after a few rounds. He nearly gives those rounds back to the brothel when the boy mushifies on the floor, but he acknowledges his role as being among the better suited in the town to go check out whatever was going on in the green house.

Upon arriving, he can't make heads or more heads of the color scheme. It ain't long till ol' Erwin's gonna help out with the redecorating anyway.

(initiative, 17 + 3 = ....20!)

[Freeborg]

Colorado Williams

Watching this second boy dissolve in front of him, Colorado is reminded of a story his father told him about when some people opened an old box that was filled with sand and they melted. He briefly wishes he had paid more attention to his father, but realizes that the time he spent practicing with his gun will probably be more beneficial.

Upon the mention of the man in red, Colorado takes a glance back at the brothel to see if he can see what happened to him. His attention is pulled back to the greenhouse when he hears Trainwhistle mutter something about people dying bleach vats. Colorado stands with Mable and his whip ready.

Spot: (2-1 = 1) for looking for the man in red leather and into the greenhouse.
Initiative: (13+3 = 16)

[Merlin the Tuna]

Flint Ironstag, Roll Fizzlebeef edition

Flint Ironstag glares at Arnold's decomposing body unflinchingly with the eyes of a man that's seen death before, and rough ones at that. But melting orphans? Damnit, that is one thing he is not about to allow in his town.

"Whatever's inside, I've had enough of it beating on our kids," Flint growls. "Colorado, you and Kurt see what you can do about getting Elliot and Jeni out of there. Tra... Jenkins and I will try to keep the problem occupied until they're clear. Now let's get in there and kick some ass!" He shakes his hands above his head in an enthusiastic but ultimately totally unimpressive manner, then lets loose an unnecessary (and mildly effeminate) scream before sprinting at the partially-opened doors. He bursts through them with a dive roll, springing to his feet ready for bashing, smashing, and thrashing.


Initiative: 20+2 = 22. (I look forward to the nat sevens that will inevitably be my attack rolls)

[stinkomandx]

It's a Green.....House!

The greenhouse floor is covered in a thick carpet of vines, which seem to constantly be creeping around the floor--though not in any outwardly hostile way. By comparison, a giant venus fly-trap plant sits at the far end of the room, its toothy mouth waving wildly. Additionally, two larger vines whip quickly around the room, smashing in to tables and walls.

To your left, two children hide under a desk with greenhouse equipment and a black steel briefcase on top. They appear to be in an extreme state of despair. Additionally, the sprinkler system (dark yellow square) at the north end of the room has been activated and a thin mist issues from the ceiling.

You are reasonably certain that if you don't kill this plant, it will try to kill you.

Initiative:
Flint n' Fists: 22
Kurt n' Erwin: 20
Head n' Teeth: 17
Colorado n' Mable: 16
Vines n' Hentai joke: 9 (2 Nat 7's)
Trainwhistle n' Bashy: No idea. The roll didn't come through.

(I'm requesting a Spot check from everyone who isn't Colorado, whose spot check revealed that the greenhouse is not, in fact, painted green)

(Also, new post in the OOC thread: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=4533616)

[stinkomandx]

Map available here:

http://s180.photobucket.com/albums/x...RoomRound1.jpg

Anyone have an idea how I imbed this image?

[Merlin the Tuna]

Flint Ironstag

"Yep. Looks about right," Flint says, sizing up the monstrosity. "Let's whack this weed! Get the kids out of here!"

He leaps gingerly into the fray, grabbing one of the vines with his left hand and pummeling it with his right.

5ft step NE
Spot: 20+6=26
Attack: 19+5=24
Damage: 2d4(3+1)+3=7

Ryan saw these rolls. If only Immeola could've pulled out some 20-20-19s.

[OneFamiliarFace]

Trainwhistle Jenkins, First responder last actor

After taking a leaping jump into the fray, Trainwhistle stops. He stands around, thumbs at his nose a bit, and waits his turn to get a solid whack.

ooc:

Spoiler

Show

My initiative showed up on my thing. It said a '9.' I have a +1 dex, and since the plant dude rolled a 7, I'm assuming he goes first since his modifier is higher.

My spot check was 12.

[Malconstant]

Kurt Vescher

Kurt's willing to give this lil shop o' krakken a few more seconds to gauge how effectively he make a year's worth of salad outta him before jumping into what would be for any attractive female lead, a most unpleasent time. He hoist up ol Erwin and follows the pipe line leading to the sprinkler, placing a bead on a length of pipe as close to the outside of the green house as possible, pointing away from the tree rape. Ideally, he'd go after a length of pipe outside the room altogether.

(spends round aiming shot)

If no vines seem to be threatening the children, Kurt encourages them to use their diversion to skidaddle. Hey, Kids! Get outta here! Get some help outside! Get Going, Now! Got The Whole Town Outside Wanted To Help You! GET! Charisma check: 6 + 2 = about what you'd expect while focusing intently on another task.