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Chaosforge 4e PBF - IC
LuckyDee:
- Ah, yes, his courage was an example to us all. If he's not cowering behind the corner of that house - Isirius points to a building off to the east - anymore, we can probably find him in the safety of the town's hall or one of its temples. And if Pelor has any guidance to spare, it seems I could use some myself.
(Isirius' stance on religion is somewhat unclear. He seems to believe in everything and nothing at once.)
He then walks towards the ship - close enough to get a good look at it at least - and wonders if anything he's seeing there strikes one of memory's chords.
Xander Morhaime:
Quill strolled around the battlefield, giving any undead remains she found a solid bash over the head with her flail for good measure. Much easier to do it when they're prone, with her height. That done, she extinguished the fiery enchantment on her flail and went to retrieve her furs.
"Quill thinks the talking boat would make good firewood," she suggested ever so helpfully.
Malek Deneith:
Quill found her furs wet from melted snow they lain in and covered in black sludge from nearby re-dead corpse. Probably what passes for blood in zombies.
Isirius couldn't remember anything worthwhile. Aside from magical figurehead and the ability to fly the ship looked like any other in his eyes.
- Gods damn it! Why is it that when one disaster strikes, more always follow and why in my damn city?! - annoyed shout announces return of the Warden... with a fresh supply of guardsmen apparently collected from their warehouse-pillaging duty. Behind him trails a group of townsfolk either too curious or too dumb to stay and hide in their homes
- Guards, start collecting to bodies. Least we can do is give those poor people a proper burial. And properly burn the remains from those abominations that attacked. - Markelhay sighs then turns to you - Thank you for your help in stopping this attack. Without your timely intervention those undead would probably take even more lives before my guardsmen could rally enough to stop them.
Xander Morhaime:
Quill examined her furs with obvious distaste, and eventually just ended up tossing them on the bonfire. Wet she could work with, covered with the innards of undead... not so much.
When the townsfolk returned, with their leader in front, the kobold was quick to step up in front of them. Even if she stood less than 4 feet tall, she still had a flail in hand, and she did have an excellent suit of plate armor under those furs.
"Quill thinks you owe her new cold clothes, before Quill freezes her tail off in this weather," she said, glaring up at the Warden, "Quill also thinks you owe Quill's tribe an explanation of this whole sceptre thingy the talking boat was going on about."
Malek Deneith:
- Well I don't think Lord Warden keeps any clothes your size on him. - a halfling, the same one who was telling of his clan journey back when you came to town meeting breaks out off group of people following Markelhay - But I feel as indebted for your help as he does, so let me help. I should be able to find something that fits you if you give me a moment.
With that he leaves to search through the tents, leaving Warden to answer Quill's other complaint - Pardon me but what do you mean exactly by "scepter thingy" and "talking boat"? We heard some talking but we were farther away and didn't hear what exactly was said over the sounds of battle. You're saying the boat talked? - Warden looks at the longboat with disbelief.
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