Tours De Force

[rassafraggin]

Melina tries to kick a grabbing trog in the teeth with a backwards kick while still running up the stairs no so much stopping to fight as needing to fight to make the climb, but this obviously not the first time she's been placed in a defensive fighting situation. and the beasties are just the right height. the peacenik knows what she's doing. kick smooth and graceful and up she goes as the trog clatters down the stairs behind her

RPG: Melina declares that she has the Martial Arts (SKL-MA) gift.

Spiraling up the narrow stairwell is not an exercise in grace for Merrisol, who uses his arms to brace the curved walls and help drag himself through the perpetual sharp turns. Grimacing curiously over its peculiar physiology, he steps over the lone creature who weaseled past the rear guard only to be kicked back down. What's worse is that he can't keep visual tabs on the rest of the group while practically alone in his section of the cramped ascent; only the clatter of footfalls, the breathy sounds of exertion, and the ambient ruckus of a slobbering stampede closing in, serve as his reassurances that everyone is moving more or less along the same page. "Nearly there," he calls encouragement anyway, gazing up as weak natural light glows on the walls, and then the smattering of salty rock runoff hits his face when he emerges into the cave. He clambers out and steps aside, looking to Melina as they await the others. "Back over the letters, only backwards... yes?" he gestures obviously to the cracked floor.

Maggie fights below to keep the stairs as clear as she can manage though the creatures are many and gross. Her swings begin to slow when a creature latches onto one arm, then the other. A step is taken up the stairs, then another. Rearing one arm back, she tries to grasp the creature weighing it down to throw it violently at its fellows. Mentally, she counts. Melina and Merrisol; are heading up. Shiona has followed. Disillusion as well? Yes? Yes. In order to buy time, she spins, letting her sword rip through the nearby troglodytes. Coming out of the spin facing mostly 'up', she charges after the rest. The spiral is tight so she does not see those ahead, though she does manage to avoid stumbling on the creature that suffered Melina's boot.

Disillusion uses his time traveling toward the stairway on now popping open one of the two latches on his suitcase. Reaching a hand inside, he digs about inside, nearly sticking his whole arm within before eventually returning with an umbrella. Of course, this carries with it about five monogrammed handkerchiefs, only one of which matches Disi's own. Wielding the umbrella like a sword, he snaps the latch shut with his elbow and swings the case around on the strap to now rest on his back. Just in time, he looks up to see a flash of bare female ankle and a tumbling troglodyte. That ankle stuns him for just a moment and he nearly forgets to hop on over the falling beast! Nearly! While making the leap to the second of the steps, he flips his umbrella end over end to give the fallen trog an extra thrashing with the handle for good measure, then carries right on with taking the steps upward! "I say that man truly tries my patience!"

Melina nods at Merrisol "We should wait until the others make it up though I think. " she hesitates to make the leap to the r stoping just to the edge.

It's single file up the steps for humans, maybe, but for Troggos it's a chaotic clown car performance of three or four taking the lead at any given moment... Flying, hopping, climbing over one another, and even scampering along the round outer wall, parkour-style! The more of them that fall to stabs and slices and bludgeons, easily enough, the more it is apparent they have no killing instinct of their own. They just want to glom all your stuff! The umbrella's appearance is like a carrot on a stick, or just a carrot stick, ensuring that the thirty-odd remaining will be boiling out of the floor shortly after the party is reassembled in the cave. And there is not a lot of floor space to share at this end, without inevitable spillover onto those ostensibly trapped stones...

Merrisol nods as Melina agrees with their delayed flight plan, though the sounds emanating from the hole in the floor concern him... logistically. "Can't all jump at the same time, though.. gonna get caught in the rush." He eyes the tiles.. so many of them. The thought of them all going off at once helps him make his decision. "We have to clear out ahead of them, Lady Melina!" He pushes away from the wall, and approaches the cracked floor of letters, waving Melina ahead to that first jump. R!

RPG: Melina challenges a difficulty of 7. Melina chooses Wits and the gift SKL-MA. Melina succeeds.

Melina nods in understanding and is already leaping toward the 'r and quickly to the o. her toe almost brushes a letter other than the 'd' causing a sharp intake of breath as she barely avoids the mistake and takes the ayf with a bit more care, letting out a long breath as she reaches the other side

RPG: Disillusion challenges a difficulty of 9. Disillusion chooses Grace and the gifts FGT-BT and SKL-BR. Disillusion succeeds.

Quick, quick, quick! Up the stairs Disillusion goes, taking the steps two at a time! Reaching the top, he strides along with no hesitation, crowding in right behind Melina with a troglodyte close on his heels. Nodding and smiling to Merrisol, he calls out while zipping in front to the first step, "Most kind of you!" One foot lands on the first step and in the next he spins in the air and whirls the umbrella around to knock a trog clean out of the air while passing on to the next! From there, he carries on like normal, staying just half a step behind Melina all the way.

The wave of trogs crash around her as Maggie tries to bodily block them from getting around her. It takes too long to see it, what with the chaos in the narrow stair and her fairly recent experiences fighting elsewhere, but when she realizes that the creatures are not aiming to kill them, her blade stops swinging. She struggles to sheeth it without injuring any more of the beasties, at least not mortally. Some injury can't be helped, perhaps though she tries. Her hand dips to her pouch, slapping away prying fingers. Reaching within, she finds a handful of bobby pins. If they want 'stuff' fine. Turning a bit, she throws the bent bits of metal over her shoulder in the hope that she can distract at least a few of them. She reaches the top a step or two after Shiona. Glancing over her shoulder, she sighs, then looks at their friends. Merrisol is given a lopsided smile, "Didn't we just leave this party?" Again, she will wait for the others to cross before taking the trek herself. Alarm grows when she sees Disillusion lob a trog back this way. Ducking, she lets the creature sail over her and back down the stairs.

RPG: Merrisol challenges a difficulty of 9. Merrisol chooses Wits and the gifts STY-CC and STY-SW. Merrisol succeeds.

Merrisol watches the petite'n'nimble Melina sail and skip from stone to stone, holding his breath when even she proves capable of almost skittering over a line. But, she makes it! He should have been right on her heels, though, and in the space of that hesitation, Disillusion has slipped into second place, startling Merrisol a bit with his quip in passing. No time for either fish-shaking or greetings, as the others, along with the first super-needy troglodytes, splash onto the scene. One of the latter flies past, intent on Disi, and just as quickly blurs back the way it came, close enough to knock back the brim of Merri's hat! He curses out, teetering between utter chaos and magic infused floor, barely time enough to suss out Shiona and Maggie's trajectories, then makes a tremendous, calculated stride jump. He clears the 'R' entirely, leaving it for Shiona, lands on the 'O', then bounds again, touching down on the 'a'. Hoping that is enough to keep the three of them from bottlenecking on the prescribed path, he makes the last hops to reach the other side just after the Artificer. Pivoting, he backs up toward the cave entrance with one arm ready to catch or steady the women if they need it, gaze holding a mix of shock and encouragement as he takes in the whole mess more than threatening to overtake them.

RPG: Shiona challenges a difficulty of 9. Shiona chooses Resolve and the gift STY-SW. Shiona succeeds.

RPG: Maggie challenges a difficulty of 9. Maggie chooses Resolve and the gifts BLD-OB, SKL-OB, and STY-SW. Maggie succeeds.

Was this what it was like, way back in the days of the first mining forays upon these slopes? Those four other shafts nearby.. a derelict operation once suggestive of a depletion of ore veins. It was perhaps something other than depletion. It could have been this. The crews, toiling away to feed the never-ceasing hunger of Begma's steaming hot refineries, gradually or all at once subjected to the sight of coal-black gibbering gremlins shooting out of crevices! Menacing and at the very least, tearing into their machinery and making off with their gear! Clearly in this day and age, these things no longer happen. Begma's corporations will not stand for it. Any sabotage now would have to be conducted with more subtlety, indirectly... In any case, this explosion of magic, madness, and mayhem is surely a special treat for the erstwhile seekers of truth. You're welcome!

In fact, the first wave of intact Troggos to struggle and squirm into view around that first thrown unfortunate, are delayed just momentarily by the scattering of bobby pins. A few are grabbed out of the air to get straightened out and just /ruined/ as hair accessories by the little bastards, who in turn are bowled over by the next incoming wave. All in all, the lot of them hit the flagstones just as Shiona and Maggie are making their way across.... and they don't know or wouldn't give a flying fig about fyaDOR *or* RODayf. Some do literally fly over safely, to be sure, but their scuttling brethren make that point moot. The floor just... dissolves. Plumes, geysers, FWOOMs of enchanted dust turn the space into a storm of bright, flashing, acrid colours! Shiona manages to stay ahead of it, and Maggie? Well, suppose her backside gets a leetle tingly, it's that close a thing. For several moments, the critters themselves are lost from view, the exact results not yet determined. No bloody explosions at least. That's how you really know it's not Modern Begma in here.

Melina winces from the relative safety of the other side as smoke fills the air. it seems she really does expect trog bits to come flying everywhere and seems both relieved and bemused as this does not occur, wondering if they have truly managed to escape unscathed "well it bares out previous experience that the stronger the magic the greater the likelihood of becoming unstable. ever present caution that"

RPG: You show a message to MAG-SE or PAT-IP: In the wild rumpus of traps being sprung, one can sniff out the activation of different magics in a huge technicolour swirl. Seems like while there are a variety of effects at work, they are all little more than cantrips. Solid and effective, yet simple and mostly harmless.

Hitting the safe end of the gauntlet, Disillusion hops and spins while shuffling to the side to make room for the others. His hand reaches behind to reposition his suitcase while the other holds his umbrella at the ready. Would any trogs make it? Will anyone need help making that last jump? Eyes track them as they are making their way, flicking left and right as he tries to determine which has the best shot for success. Eventually, they dip lower from the flying ones and he flips his umbrella around again with the flick of the wrist. Bending a touch at the knees, he readies himself to extend and use the hook of the handle, should things come to that!

It is chaos, really. Trogs are jumping and flailing and being thrown around. As a trap, or several, are set off near her, filling the air with smoke, Maggie can just be seen wrestling with a trog or two when the smoke obscures her. Several thumps might make their way to the others from her position, but Maggie does not follow them through. A stain, crimson and shifting colors the tiles as her hair floats to the floor. Luckily, it merely hair and not blood.

Beside Disi, Merrisol is likewise poised to help out the last of their comrades to come across, though when the traps start going off, he holds his breath as much from instinctive self-defence as from suspense. He keeps his arm out, reaching for Maggie, so close! when she stops to deal with a clinging Troggo or two and is engulfed, with the pestilence still fumbling around her and over the remainder of the floor. A few dozen spells flaring to life more or less at once awakens his deep-rooted mistrust and for the moment he can only stand there, yelling out Maggie's name. Any one of those slumping sounds (but not the slobbering ones... hopefully! but still okay if she does!) could be his wife! Get in there! He paces the billowing edge of the morass, peering, and after a moment growls and wades in, coughing reflexively. "Maggie?" He doesn't have to go far before bending down to haul her up.

The swirling powders begin to thin out after half a minute, taking longer to settle down than the spells themselves. The once-trapped cave floor is hidden by heaps of Troglodytes, their prickly bodies well-caked by more than just flash powder. More than half of them are huffing energetically away in some sort of induced deep slumber. Others are struggling vainly to move forward despite various important limbs being stuck to the ground or wall. Others who missed that sticky magic are wandering aimlessly about the cave in a drunken daze, confused or forgetful of their purpose here. After another minute, Troggos start to tumble from the stalagtite-stippled ceiling, where several had been pinned by some lighter-than-air, or perhaps anti-gravity, force. All in all, the magics of the traps are as non-lethal as was earlier sensed and reported, although they would certainly have presented an annoying amount of inconvenience for would-be snoops.

Melina peers as Merrisol draws Maggie up and out concern for the woman's welfare written on her face as well as a touch of guilt as though somehow responsible for the woman's condition. Her shoulders sag. "Is she alright?" she queries.

Trogs and traps and mess, oh my! Shiona settles on the far side, a near enough thing, turning in time to see Merrisol collect up an unconscious Maggie. There's a moment or two of quiet considersation towards the pair before she nods and settles her attention upon the trogs who are having a Bad Night (tm). There's a soft 'hmph' as she watches the effects displayed upon their many selves. "Goodness. That was exciting." She notes, without undue excitement in her voice.

Merrisol appears to have just avoided the magical effect himself as he carries Maggie away in his arms, to the cave entrance. "I don't know, Lady Melina," he replies with a similar worry and guilt in his tone. "Seems to be just asleep.. like those critters." But she is a way cuter sleeper, naturally!

As she is carried out of the mists, Maggie turns her face into Merrisol's chest, one hand finding his heartbeat beneath her cheek. She does not yet wake, but her sleep is more restful and settled than it was.

Merrisol has already strided.. strode?.. stridden?.. out with Maggie still curled up against his chest, to get his wife to a safe, pest-free, and stable zone in order to go comfortable horizontal and wait out the effects of the spell. "She would have been able to say how serious a spell it was," he grouses to nobody in particular, then glances over his shoulder at Melina. "Did you happen to get any sense of that?"

Melina shakes her head " I'm sorry. it all happened so fast. I might be able to sense if she's in any real danger now. i don't know it's all new to me'

Disillusion is thoroughly chivalrous and downright genteel in his assistance provided to both Melina and Shiona in the aftermath of that murder of Troglodytes that had been unleashed. He now trails behind the group, keeping an eye on the creatures to ensure that none might dare to make it across the what had been the cavern's defenses. "Heresy. Acts of madness from an era best left in the past."

Merrisol takes a breath, then nods amiably, "That's alright, Lady Melina. I think if she were in danger of more than a bad oversleep headache upon waking, I'd feel it." Wishful romantic nonsense? Perhaps. Never can tell with couples who have access to all manner of mystical knickknacks. "Hm. Unswayed by those allusions to Magic and Science being tangled up together, Valentino?" he asks the Artificer, then resumes a careful sidling trek down the hillslope to reach the overgrown mining road which winds around to connect to the four dilapidated entrances as well as leading back to the horses.

Melina nods " magic is a reality to the foundation of the realm, like it or not. seems like in begma's case, the magic mutated and this may have been notably and forcibly done or may have been a result of all of the particulars not being in the recipe. while magic is dangerous, much of the fault lies in the way people use it. not doing due diligence before pushing boundries understanding is needed. it's purpose, its effects people lack care and powers and magics exacerbates inner weakness i think

From the scraggly treeline beyond Anselm and Son's faded signpost, there may be caught a flare of a scratch-gas lighter, or the ensuing billow of smoke around the dim silhouette of a man. A stranger in their midst! The traveler is alone and on foot, which doesn't preclude the presence of a companion, horse or otherwise. A long coat of tweed covers his well-made but rustic attire, recently adorned with twigs and the green of newly sprouted vegetation. He'd struggled a bit to get this far. Been standing there long? Possibly, possibly not.

Disillusion purses his lips and eventually returns to holding his umbrella more as a fashion accessory and less like a weapon ready to be unleashed. Clearing his throat, he stretches his neck and returns to normal posture that would be appropriate for a Begman gentleman. "I would wait to see a proper study to be performed and survive peer review before I made any substantial declarations on the matter. While I don't plan on changing my *own* ways... I can get behind some measure of adjustment to the course of Progress. Perhaps. Either way, I'm no dirty snitch." Looking to Melina, he nods in agreement on the matter of magic being dangerous. "Quite right. I think we've certainly seen how and why the Sorcerers of Olde ran into issues." Stepping further on down the slope, his eyes lock onto the sudden spark and flame of the lighter. His unattended suitcase on his horse! He looks over in that direction to check on its status before flashing a smile and raising a hand. "Why hello there, stranger!"

Merrisol listens attentively to Melina from the patchy roadway, pausing there to adjust his Maggie-carry now that they are on relatively solid ground. "Good point.. I rather like that. The poor mechanic mustn't blame the tools, and all that," he replies, too preoccupied with clearing debris from the canvas cover in a ramshackle wagon to take much notice of the treeline. It takes Disillusion's shoutout to get him to half-turn, gazing over his shoulder and giving the stranger a quiet assessing glance.

Melina nods likewise "Afternoon. I didn't realize this was such a popular hiking spot. My first trip to begma has been interesting."

The mouth of the cave looks innocently cave-like again now that the dust of powdered reagents and the parfs of magic themselves have settled down. It's too high and steep to see anything of snoozing or stumbling Troggos within. The average outdoorsfolk would be able to discern the tracks of those who recently climbed up and down the slope, of course. If - they hadn't already witnessed the group's emerging or descending from it. Had he? The man takes his time getting the cigar's end to a nicely glowing red cherry, before he looks upon them with interest. "Good day to you. A fine day. Those would be your steeds, then." He gestures. The tethered horses do not look to have been disturbed or rifled.. "I say... is she hurt?" He leans as if to look around Merri at the wagon where Maggie is being carefully laid. "That's the trouble with these old abandoned mines. Treacherous." He walks out from the underbrush and onto the road, closer to the mounts. "Find anything of interest in there?"

RPG: You show a message to SKL-OB: The stranger's coat hangs in such a way that it is likely he is packing a loaded holster on his belt.

"Indeed they are! Quite anxious to be back in the saddle, too, I should say!" Disi's head swivels over toward Merri and Maggie before turning back toward the stranger. "Her? Oh, she'll be quite alright. This walk after the ride was a bit much for her. I fear that she succumbed to the vapors." Canting his head a bit to one side, he gives that look to convey that this fellow is certainly in the know of how that can be. A look is cast toward one of the mines as he holds a hand over his eyebrows, as if blocking the light while spying that far. Turning back, he continues, "I was thinking they might be perfect for undisturbed Scientific experiments, myself! Free of disturbances or outside stimulii that might skew results! I'm looking to invest out in the East as the new proving grounds for Progress!"

Merrisol turns from the traveler with a frown, recentering his attentions on his sleeping bride and getting her just-so comfy in the old broken-wheeled wagon. He has an ear cocked to the ensuing conversation, though.

Melina nods "Well, I guess, not if your from around here, no, but I'm a curious sort, like to get the full flavor of being out and about when i get out and about. Far much time with my nose in books you see. proud of myself for making the walk. . The gentleman here owes me a drink. Bet me I couldn't make it

"Oh?" The gentleman swivels his gaze back to Disillusion, being unable to view anything of the fainted lady around Merri anyhow. "A pleasure to hear. The East is in dire need of advancement, just between you and I. Infrastructure is a downright backwards mess in town." He lifts his other hand to unhook a brass monocle from his lapel and hang it from his narrow-brimmed hat in front of his left eye, magnifying its pale greyness. "Truly a noble reason to go tramping about around these deathtraps. This being no country for auld men, I say." He gives them all a good cock-eyed peering, looking from the indicated mine and then back, grinning. "Yes, you all appear quite young and fit for the hunt, even in troubled areas such as this. Y'know. Raiders.. Large prowling felines.. Dangerously senile eccentrics, and such-like." He walks a few steps to stand across from the steeds, and gives their luggage a casual perusal. "But I forget my manners. Reggie Atchison. An explorer in these parts, like yourself." He executes a shallow flourish of a bow.

Disillusion lets out a sharp, single-noted laugh and nods with a smile toward Melina, "Hah! Too true, too true! And I'll happily pay that debt!" His attention swivels back over toward the mysterious gentleman as he sidles on up to his horse to begin strapping his suitcase to the empty side, balancing things out against the one he'd left behind on the other side of the animal. "Indeed! I rather think so. With a bit of work, we may even see some modern conveniences that the city-folk will envy us for!" With the case secured, he opens it again and now removes his pistol to return to his holster with a well-practiced flourish. The gun spins end over end on a finger, dancing on into his holster in reply to the mention of raiders. "I do appreciate the words of warning, Mister Atchison. I wonder..." That same hand executes a resounding snap that may even echo through the caverns and on back as he produces a calling card (Professor Disillusion Valentino - GRANDMASTER Artificer) to extend toward the gentleman, "Might a fellow be able to bend your ear on the ride back to town? I'm in the market for some real estate in the area and I feel that as an explorer you may have a good idea of available spots that suit my needs. If there are raiders and such on the prowl, I certainly wouldn't argue with having another fellow along for the ride to help protect the lady-folk!"

Melina smiles " Well you've done a fine job of protecting us thus far, Mr Valentino, but i surely wouldn't mind the company. Advice for what to visit on my next trip perhaps

Merrisol doesn't even give a 'and so what am I, chopped liver!' face, having caught on quickly to what is going down. "Mr. Morfilod," he touches his hat brim to the man, but turns away again. He works on gently waking his wife in hopes she'll be able to at least sit up in the saddle, if not ride on her own.

Reggie accepts the card with a smile, snipping it up with two fingertips, and looking it over as he places his hat back upon trimmed salt and pepper hair. He puffs heartily and then rolls his cigar to one side of his mouth, regarding the individuals in turn through the lens device again.. turning his head very precisely in order to get that straight shot. "Well that's awfully chummy of you. Awfully chummy. Here I've only just arrived, and keen to look around the old junkers myself," he points out wryly. "Is there nothing of value here that you've seen, then, friends? Nothing fetchingly curious? Nothing delightfully odd?" He gestures out around at the musty old mines.

RPG: You show a message to SKL-OB BEG-KN (Disillusion): At some point while Reggie's cap was doffed, there was a flash of silvery interface within the dome. Maybe it was just a bunch of his grey hairs? But as he lines up the brim just so to place the monocle back at eye level, there's a practiced twitch of his fingers that feels like a locking into position, to those familiar with the elegant subtleties of some Artifices.

Disillusion nods happily as Merrisol introduces himself, his gaze sweeping that way and back. "I wouldn't advise it, unless you brought some breathing gear and air testers? Poor Margaret quite literally fell victim to the vapors. Poisonous vapors, I should say. A pocket of carbon dioxide we were fortunate to get her out of quickly." Adopting a grim and concerned expression, he looks her way and shakes her head. "Took quite a bit out of her. She'll be alright after she rests. Quite the scare between that and the falling rocks!" A hand is tossed upward as he shakes his head in a more exasperated manner. "Quite fortunate we should stumble into one another just now. I dare say, I am tempted to call it fate! Perhaps you're just the sort to keep me from making fruitless ventures such as this in my search for the great Proving Grounds of the East!" Just now, his voice is taking on the energy and fervor of one of his sales pitches, complete with his hands motioning in the air with each word of "Proving Grounds of the East" as if placing the lighted sign in the sky just there.

Melina hms "delightfully odd, what an apt choice of words for the whole trip. You think we've made some find that will weasel you out of a fortune. There's not a chance of that not one. In fact I have a wonderful idea you can come have that drink with us. will give you the whole plan soup to nuts you can write it all down, even draw a map to the spot, come back with the proper equipment and have a proper look. what you say

RPG: Melina declares that she has the Silver-Tongued (PPL-ST) gift.
RPG: Melina declares that she has the Orator (SKL-OR) gift.

Merri straightens up from the wagon again and turns slowly as though drawn to watch the performances, each stirring in their own way. "Look, can we get going soon?" he interjects impatiently when there is a chance to poke in words edgewise. If this is also a gambit, it is a very sincere-looking one, which really is just how Merri do.

Reggie's pale eyes swivel from the slope once more, startled, when the cause of Maggie's very evident drowsiness is revealed. He blinks. "Well, huh. I believe just now I would be content with a few prominent," he raises up his arms like an air traffic controller to place more glaring signage up in the crowded air, "/Keep/ /Out/ warnings in this region." But his queries hadn't only been aimed at Disillusion, and the man makes a fine point of looking over at the others fixedly for a cohesive take on the pitfalls of exploring decrepit rabbit holes. Merrisol gets a polite nod, because easy there, big fella. Sleepy Maggie gets a pass. Shiona's quiet hrmphing could perhaps be taken either way. Melina's somewhat unexpected revelation, however, perks up his ears and earns another astonished blink. He glances between her and the effusive Grandmaster Artificer a couple of times.. "Well, huh," he utters again. "You do present a conflicting proposition, Miss I'm-Afraid-I-Didn't-Catch-Your-Name. However... I'd be a crashing fool to ignore a woman in medical distress, lurking noxious fumes, /and/ to pass up what might prove to be a charming conversation over free drinks.." Reggie glances a bit doubtfully at the overgrown mountain pathways, though he nods slowly as he firms to the decision to turn back with his new acquaintances.