Rolf, Mandrake, Yuri, Peter and Ravn all stand around in the Lord's chamber
watching as Elsbeth prays over Kerim's hand. For those in the towers for the
first time, it is good to see the wall hangings still in reasonable repair and
the bed and other furniture in good condition.
Down in the main hall
Zhiri, Madelyn and Callum gather together, under Edgar's perch, waiting for news
of Kerim's wound. Here the furniture is more battered and worn, as it has
suffered the effects of the weather, through the holes in the roof.
Zhiri sighs with disappointment, her whole posture speaking of fatigue and
disinterest.
"What use this place is going to be to anyone, I have no idea.
I can certainly think of a dozen places I'd rather be right now. In the bath at
home..." she chokes the sentence off abruptly and looks around.
"Do any
of you play ta'bae ?"
Peter watches as Elsbeth prays over Kerim's hand, wondering if there cane be any potency left in a hundred year old poison.
Accepting Ravn's change of attitude with some personal guilt and embarresment
for his quick accusation and also Elsbeth for availing him of some of her
valuable Druidic talents the business like part of Kerim kicks in.
"Indeed, be I poisoned and that it is halted from stirring in my
veins it would seem that I lose nothing to take the bargain against time which
is on offer"
Kerim moves to the chest, having failed at the subtle
method he asks "Crowbar anyone?".
He stops for the moment to look
to Elsbeth, realising that his actions may seem somewhat foolish to one who has
just done her utmost to prolong his life.
"If fate has decreed I
perish then all is done. You have ordered an injunction against whatever
inevitability faces me, favourable or other, which only time will tell.
Opportunity now exists for the taking, where I might salvage a small
value and perhaps save others a similar fate.
Indeed my lady, there is
only that which can be gained in such venture, no good it will do me, or you, to
die without having tried."
Some might not quite agree with the
logic, but then Kerim isn't one to pass up a bargain and it would ease his mind
to at least have a small victory over the chest.
Rolf stands back, giving Elsbeth room for her efforts. He nods at Kerim's peaceful acceptance of whatever fate has in store for him. It is an attitude that he understands well and he feels something of a kinship with the merchant. Looking about and feeling as though he understands Kerim's request, Rolf looks for anything that might serve well as a prybar.
Peter too looks around for something to use on the chest and doesn't see anything. "Well there was an old short sword in one of the offices that might do it ..." he says generally
OOC: Still Employed!
Callum wanders away to fetch the shortsword,
returning after a moment with it clutched in his hand. He looks at the lock then
at the hinges. On whatever side appears the weaker, he plunges the sword into
the join near the corner and levers it up easily...
OOC: Succeeding
easily on an open doors roll or strength roll.
As Kerim doesn't show any signs of injury, Rolf lets his attention be pulled towards the chest. He moves over beside Callum and gives him a clap on the arm by way of stating his thanks and his respect for Callum's talent at opening even the most stubborn of locks.
Mandrake grimaces at the warrior's crude methods, but offers advice from the sidelines nonetheless, “If I were to use a poisoned trap, then I’d make sure that I had an antidote about, just in case. And what better place than in the safety of the chest that the poison guards” turning to Kerim “If it is poison.”
** EDITED October 13, 2001, 9:49 pm **
Edgar nods to himself, hearing
the by now familiar sound of wood splintering. If he could chuckle, he would,
but instead he contents himself with a wry comment, pitched low, "If only all
these two-legs were as direct as the big painted one, they would be so much
easier to understand !"
Aware that the noise may have reached ears to
which the search thus far had not quite made it, he renews his vigil, casting
his gaze about, and listening intently.
Despite his pre-occupation with his own fate Kerim is none the less able to
do little else than watch Callum decimate the chest.
Perhaps he sucks in
his breathe at some pain, mayhaps to stall time, perhaps even at the less than
subtle methods being applied. Whatever the reason he sucks in a deep breathe to
await the discovery of what is within.
GM: Holding my breathe in case
there's a gas trap too. I don't believe that I'd have time to communcate such
since the sword has been swiftly applied to the topic at hand. Though if allowed
I will say so.