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[Overcome 2d6 - 1, 3 + 0 = 4]
Lucien holds his gun close to his head and fires up. He's not even aiming yet - his first plan is to deafen himself for a bit, or drown out the singing.
Click, click, click.
Powder wet.
What was he trying to do again?
Lucien holds his gun close to his head and fires up. He's not even aiming yet - his first plan is to deafen himself for a bit, or drown out the singing.
Click, click, click.
Powder wet.
What was he trying to do again?
"I didn't think that would stick," Lucien admits, glancing behind them. "Missed the train, but still punched the ticket. As it were."
He's looking at the clown as he says this, and not Sasha.
He's looking at the clown as he says this, and not Sasha.
Traveling with him is like traveling with a growing bear: very useful until-
Ah! Ah! All I needed to hear! The pins out on this grenade - I'm happy to try to keep my hand on it long enough to throw it at someone.
The rest of the party probably needs a sales pitch, and the Professor needs a motivation...
First thing's first.
Lucien feels a deep spiritual connection to donkeys. They keep ending up in places they shouldn't be. They're smarter than horses and don't startle nearly as easily, but nobody would ever think about putting them in a cavalry regiment. They refuse any order they think is stupid, and they're only as loyal as they feel their master deserves.
The fact that this donkey was being led by an overeducated clown gone mad in the pursuit of power - well, most people would see themselves reflected in that one, and Lucien was no exception.
"Of course you can. I'm sure it'll beat Ailee on stubbourness and smell." It's at this point, of course, that Ailee stops trying to kill their one ally and actually does something clever and useful against the Wreck instead. Credit where it's due. "Well. Smell then. Flood water, in our defense. Me and Jackdaw would love to host you. The other two..."
[Talk Sense using Wisdom: Appeal to Desires - 3, 4, +2 = 9]
[They do what I ask, but I owe a favour]
Lucien points to the blasted-out way down. "If you can stop that thing long enough for us to make it out, or kill it, I'll make sure Aille forgives you for your crime of being an authority figure at some point in her life. She likes useful people, and right now," - Lucien wiggles his bleeding, pie-scorched fingers and points to his still-stinging and watery eyes - "You don't have much competition." Pause. "Actually, scratch that. You're going up against the train team for brownie points. Harder ask. Clowns I understand*. But trains? Train crews?" Lucien shakes his head. "Now, those are terrifying. The things they know... I try not to think about it, you understand. Makes them very slow to trust; paranoiacs the lot, and Coleman's no exception... Might be a lot harder for me to put in a good word with him, unless you really impress him right now."
Lucien crouches low with his back to the statue, preparing to move silent and barefoot. "I've got your back, but the spotlight's on you. I'll stay out of sight, ready to tag in for anything. Just give the word, loud as you like."
*This is what we in the business call 'a lie'.
Whatever happens next Lucien's gunning for that way down, quick and quiet. He plans to be true to his word on backing the clown - sorry, Grail Questant - up if the call comes.
Lucien!
Well, isn’t this a merry farce? You and the clown go one way, everyone else goes the other. At least this way you’ve got time to chat, and a clear shot at its nigh-impenetrable back, if you had a clever plan.
"If". The plan was the time to chat - Professor Pagliacci seems to have been a lot more successful dealing with the Flood until now, and Lucien would like to keep him as an ally in spite of Ailee's best efforts. Let's do our best to keep this fight 5 on 1, not 4 on 2.
Also?
Oh god. You’re getting recruited for a cult. By a clown.
Words cannot express how much I wish to subscribe to this man's newsletter. I am all about that deep clown lore. Probably not going to join, but Lucien's not lying when he promises to be a very enthusiastic listener.
[Speak Softly - 5, 3, +2 = 10]
[What can they tell me about killing the Wreck, what should I be wary of when dealing with them, What do they want, and how can we help them get it?]
[Fast Friends, emphasis on "Fast" - I gain a Bond with them. Now, no matter how much the rest of the Fellowship antagonizes him, we're buddies. Aren't we? Of course we are.]
Lucien smiles, this one takes a lot less effort on his part. He grips the hand on his shoulder and gives it a friendly, reassuring squeeze with his own soggy-sock-gloved one - the one not holding the pistol, at least. His words have a laminar flow to them - smooth, clear, hypnotic. Polite pauses that just aren't long enough for the other speaker to get a word in, but imply they could have.
"I'm considering my mortality right now. Awful stuff. But enough about me! A clown collegiate! Wonderful! Becoming a clown doesn't seem like an impulsive decision; Hardly an idea you just get in your head while you wait for the kettle to boil, is it? I'm sure you have some interesting reasons I'd love hearing all about. Fascinating ones."
An awkward clearing of the throat, a very apologetic glance towards the Wreck. "It's a bit loud to talk properly though, isn't it? Should probably fix that. And you're obviously here for your own reasons, I'm sure; I promise we'll help you however we can once this is sorted out. At the very least, I'll stop Ailee from getting in your way. I hope. I am an honest man; I can only promise my best, on that one."
Dreadfully rude to interrupt a conversation to go kill a horrific zombie crab artillery bunker, but needs must I suppose. "What's our clever plan?"
"No good! Backs to the wall, and fight like it!" Lucien shouts before turning around and seeing-
[Get Away with Hope; 4, 6, +1 = 11]
[Fast, while Avoiding Harm, I take someone with me]
Lucien doesn't pause to think - he's working against Ailee here, after all - and darts back to the fray, shoulder charging Professor Pagliacci in the gut, knocking the wind out of him, knocking him off Ailee...
...straight up into a fireman-carry, never stopping for a moment, weaving away from the biggest active threat right now, and also the Wreck. Hoping keeping his shoulder in the clown's solar plexus is going to stop him getting his breath back a few more seconds.
"Big fan of your work," Lucien's smile is tight-lipped, hiding gritted teeth, "did you know we're friends, you and I? Isn't that right? Fantastic friends. Love clowns. Worked with a lot of them. My favourite made me call him 'Your Majesty', would you believe? Dead, now. Probably not my fault. Making more of an effort with you."
Lucien's journey ends in an alcove behind a large squid-statue, with the Wreck between them and Ailee, and the bulk of the statue between them and the Wreck. He drops the Grail Questor down and takes some deep, gulping breaths in. The kind where you just grab your knees and feel your whole back rise to meet your neck.
Bloody hell.
Shit. Fuck. Piss.
Okay.
"Sorry about that, buddy. Fancy a chat?"
[Get Away with Hope; 4, 6, +1 = 11]
[Fast, while Avoiding Harm, I take someone with me]
Lucien doesn't pause to think - he's working against Ailee here, after all - and darts back to the fray, shoulder charging Professor Pagliacci in the gut, knocking the wind out of him, knocking him off Ailee...
...straight up into a fireman-carry, never stopping for a moment, weaving away from the biggest active threat right now, and also the Wreck. Hoping keeping his shoulder in the clown's solar plexus is going to stop him getting his breath back a few more seconds.
"Big fan of your work," Lucien's smile is tight-lipped, hiding gritted teeth, "did you know we're friends, you and I? Isn't that right? Fantastic friends. Love clowns. Worked with a lot of them. My favourite made me call him 'Your Majesty', would you believe? Dead, now. Probably not my fault. Making more of an effort with you."
Lucien's journey ends in an alcove behind a large squid-statue, with the Wreck between them and Ailee, and the bulk of the statue between them and the Wreck. He drops the Grail Questor down and takes some deep, gulping breaths in. The kind where you just grab your knees and feel your whole back rise to meet your neck.
Bloody hell.
Shit. Fuck. Piss.
Okay.
"Sorry about that, buddy. Fancy a chat?"
The decay's going hard here; if you start tipping things over and breaking things, you'll accelerate its descent into the Flood.
you are showered with fluttering bits of ruined spine and paper as it gouges a hole in the already ruined bookshelves
What's keeping you here in the fray, rather than running as far as you can and scraping your way back up to the surface?
There is an extremely good case to be made that this is much better than what would be waiting for a reformed spook in a deposed government back on the surface. The stay-behind operations of monarchies tend to involve the people who grew up with a scientific certainty in how many legs you could pull off a spider while keeping it indefinitely alive. Cats, too. Other children. Etc.
Every thing he passes on his way Down is another thing between him and Them; Maybe he'll find a place to retire in the Heart, when the dangers ahead scare him more than the dangers behind.
Until that happy day:
[Get Away; 1, 3, +1 = 5 - Wait. Voice of Reason*. 4, 3 +1 = 8 - Oh thank goodness]
[I get there quickly, avoiding harm]
"So glad you're alive, Jackdaw!"
Lucien pulls a flick-knife as he runs, slicing the tops off his sock-gloves so he can wriggle his fingers out through them - thumb holes are more complicated, thumbs can wait for later, already doing his best to duck and weave falling books without losing a finger
"Ha! And with your mind intact! Ha ha! Fantastic! Was very worried! Join the fun, then!"
This should be enough to work a trigger, though, and he doesn't know for sure the bullets are useless yet. Neither should anything he's pointing the pistol at.
"Last chance, any reasons not to run, anyone?"
He breaches into the blasted side staircase and shouts back what he sees to the rest of the Fellowship. Hopefully he hasn't found the reason, himself.
* (The rest of the party ignored Lucien's advice when they ripped Jackdaw out of the Flood without waiting for a confirmed escape route, or making sure her whole mind was going to come back with her, first. No complaints; We're glad they did.)
I think it's going quite well, actually!
I scream, you scream, we all scream for eye screams! [-Sense]
Lucien's not a stoic. Why should he be? Not like he's trying to sneak up on the crab monster. And it's not like it's a small target, either. This is more of an agonized battlecry situation.
Rip some pages out of the Cricketer's Cup and use it as butcher's-paper oven mitts. At least it'll buy a few seconds.
The faster he can get the pie into the Wreck, the faster we can get these bloody fumes away from him. He can bandage his hands in his wet socks the second this thing's launched.
He charges back down the stairs into the fight, screaming a battlecry, half-blind and searing pain.
This is where the problems start.
[Finish Them - Kill them with Pie - 2, 2, +0 - 4 - Lose the Pie, Coleman is no longer Keeping them Busy, face retaliation]
First of all - Lucien has never, in his life, thrown a pie. He's seen it done though. The best way to do it is to hold your palm flat on the base of the pie tin, and cricket bowl it forwards. He holds the motion in his head clearly. He cocks his hand back.
The paper ovenmitt hits its smoke point, catching fire in his hand. He flubs the throw, the pie lands at the Wreck's pointy legs and smoulders almost harmlessly. It's the worst possible amount of harm to do.
It doesn't do enough to hurt the thing. But it definitely did enough to piss it off, and give it a new target. And now there's a fire between the Train and the Wreck, and stinging acrid smoke seperating the two.
The wreck turns to him. Lucien's legs won't move - he's done flight, he's done fight, and now he's up to freeze. He slips his scorched hands into his pockets and wears the soaking-wet socks as gloves. Standing there, hands in his pockets, he almost looks casual. He's just buying time. In his experience, things only know to chase you if you start running. They get confused when you don't.
He's eyeing the cannons through stinging, watery eyes.
"Please tell me none of you saw it reload?"
Woops. That twigged it. Might be time to run again.
Lucien's not a stoic. Why should he be? Not like he's trying to sneak up on the crab monster. And it's not like it's a small target, either. This is more of an agonized battlecry situation.
Rip some pages out of the Cricketer's Cup and use it as butcher's-paper oven mitts. At least it'll buy a few seconds.
The faster he can get the pie into the Wreck, the faster we can get these bloody fumes away from him. He can bandage his hands in his wet socks the second this thing's launched.
He charges back down the stairs into the fight, screaming a battlecry, half-blind and searing pain.
This is where the problems start.
[Finish Them - Kill them with Pie - 2, 2, +0 - 4 - Lose the Pie, Coleman is no longer Keeping them Busy, face retaliation]
First of all - Lucien has never, in his life, thrown a pie. He's seen it done though. The best way to do it is to hold your palm flat on the base of the pie tin, and cricket bowl it forwards. He holds the motion in his head clearly. He cocks his hand back.
The paper ovenmitt hits its smoke point, catching fire in his hand. He flubs the throw, the pie lands at the Wreck's pointy legs and smoulders almost harmlessly. It's the worst possible amount of harm to do.
It doesn't do enough to hurt the thing. But it definitely did enough to piss it off, and give it a new target. And now there's a fire between the Train and the Wreck, and stinging acrid smoke seperating the two.
The wreck turns to him. Lucien's legs won't move - he's done flight, he's done fight, and now he's up to freeze. He slips his scorched hands into his pockets and wears the soaking-wet socks as gloves. Standing there, hands in his pockets, he almost looks casual. He's just buying time. In his experience, things only know to chase you if you start running. They get confused when you don't.
He's eyeing the cannons through stinging, watery eyes.
"Please tell me none of you saw it reload?"
Woops. That twigged it. Might be time to run again.
So, frankly, all of this is terrible. But there's three things Lucien just learned from the book, if the book is true:
1) There are traps here that can be set off, at least one of them on the staircase involving a "holy pie".
2) The other person in the Spire would have assisted in his funeral. At the very least, that means they would be a friend.
3) That would make Jackdaw the "Drowned Seeker" - Implying she'd survive this.
"IF"; Lucien's suitably paranoid to wonder if the book itself is the trap. There's one way to test it, at least: Find the trap it predicted would have killed him, and don't get killed by it.
If it's as the book says, he can infer the "Grail Questor" is probably going to be a friend, and that there's a chance to save at least a part of Jackdaw. Also, whatever a 'holy pie' is, it sounds like the sort of thing that'd be a lot more effective against the undead(?) crab monster downstairs than his waterlogged revolver.
Find the trap = don't die to the trap = aim the trap at big crab monster = trust the book = trust the other person here is an ally, not another enemy = save Jackdaw.
Terrible as things are, that's still a hell of a lot to be hopeful for.
[Look Closely - 3, 4, +2 = 9]
"Is there something hidden or out of place" - Looking for hidden traps
"What will happen if I try to set the trap against the Wreck?"
Tell me more about the scenery here - the squid statues, the gigantic and overstuffed shelves of books. How could they help me? How could they hurt me? Essentially - If the trap idea's a bust, is there an even bigger bust that I'd be able to drop on the Wreck? A spire implies a lot of height, and everything you've been describing sounds tippable and heavy.
I find one of these things out the hard way.
1) There are traps here that can be set off, at least one of them on the staircase involving a "holy pie".
2) The other person in the Spire would have assisted in his funeral. At the very least, that means they would be a friend.
3) That would make Jackdaw the "Drowned Seeker" - Implying she'd survive this.
"IF"; Lucien's suitably paranoid to wonder if the book itself is the trap. There's one way to test it, at least: Find the trap it predicted would have killed him, and don't get killed by it.
If it's as the book says, he can infer the "Grail Questor" is probably going to be a friend, and that there's a chance to save at least a part of Jackdaw. Also, whatever a 'holy pie' is, it sounds like the sort of thing that'd be a lot more effective against the undead(?) crab monster downstairs than his waterlogged revolver.
Find the trap = don't die to the trap = aim the trap at big crab monster = trust the book = trust the other person here is an ally, not another enemy = save Jackdaw.
Terrible as things are, that's still a hell of a lot to be hopeful for.
[Look Closely - 3, 4, +2 = 9]
"Is there something hidden or out of place" - Looking for hidden traps
"What will happen if I try to set the trap against the Wreck?"
Tell me more about the scenery here - the squid statues, the gigantic and overstuffed shelves of books. How could they help me? How could they hurt me? Essentially - If the trap idea's a bust, is there an even bigger bust that I'd be able to drop on the Wreck? A spire implies a lot of height, and everything you've been describing sounds tippable and heavy.
I find one of these things out the hard way.
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