Leaf frowns, confused. "If you had better things to do, then why did you come along?"
Not really interested in an answer, Leaf shifts to her feline form and climbs to higher ground, paying close attention to whatever she can gather with all the senses available to her.
AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Feld looks for some refuse he can change behind in peace. When he walks out, he's a gren.
Shapeshifter's Feint: Effect: You assume the form of any Medium humanoid until you change form again. You retain your statistics in your new form, and your clothing, armor, and possessions do not change. You gain a +5 power bonus to Interaction checks to fool others with your disguise. You can choose to not attack.
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Feld rustles through the shed, seeing as no one else is willing.
Pushing past the jammed door into what one would think would simply be a room the size of a walk-in closet, Feld instead stumbles down a ramp, into a place that looks like an underground facility. All of the machinery around Feld remains still, dead without any power, but a low hum does emanate from somewhere through a hallway to his left. Once he regains his bearings Feld suddenly feel a sharp prick at the base of his skull. A familiar atmosphere feels like it begins to cushion the inspector's entire form, everything begins to feel less unhinged than it has during his entire occupation within Eberron. Before he can investigate the humming of what must be the only power source left, what looks like an old military locker catches his eye. Sitting in the corner, stacked against more like it, it hangs open invitingly with the some scraps of food wrappers littering the inside while a garish green gas mask hangs from the built-in door hook. Obviously, like Al said, the Gren aren't interested in anything technological in these woods.
Speaking of which, Leaf's scanning of the area doesn't bring up anything. No sights, sounds, or smells that would trigger what she'd consider any elf or human-like figures. However one thing does catch her off-guard. Coming from inside the shed, the feline catches a whiff of something, possibly several things moving as a group. The stench is potent, but apparently only to Leaf, resembling that of a hot-spring writhing with life. Scaled, frilled, taloned life.
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Feld puts the gas mask into a backpack. if confronted, he can claim he will destroy it.
Leaf hops back down to the ground, assuming felinoid form in midair before landing. She glances at the others. "There, uh, might be problems," she stammers. "Keep waiting here."
She slips into the shed, quickly moving to the side of that "gren" that's wearing Feld's clothes and backpacks and smells like Feld. "Is there normally anything in here that would smell like a group of sulfur-y lizards?" she whispers.
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
A low hiss begins to accompany the hum of whatever little technological activity remains in this facility. Some scrapings and shuffling can be heard coming from the opposite direction of where you assume must be the main power source for the shed, where you'll most likely find whatever Al requires to get the teleporter working.
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
"Let's go to where the noises aren't coming from."
Making the smart choice, you begin to descend shortly down into what looks like a storage area. With footlockers, crates, and containers strewn about the area looks almost picked clean. Quite a bit of the technology seems to either have been dismantled or taken, with spare engine components along with weapon parts scattered all around you in this room.
Recalling the layout Al briefly showed you, this must be where the power source they need should be. Despite the disarray such a room is in, there's still plenty to salvage. Some spare canteens, still filled with clean enough water; a couple of hand-held electronic positioning system devices al though you're not entirely sure how effective they'd be on Eberron or in this woods; a modular component that seems to be an augment for Feld's collapsable staff, and some fuel canisters plus a half-filled tin of bullets.
The power source, however, is nowhere to be seen. What was giving off such a loud hum before is a sizeable space heater parked in the corner, obviously running on spare battery power. Now, amidst the humid conditions and no longer rummaging around, bits and pieces you both skimmed over begin to leap out at you.
Arrows either snapped in half or lodged in the walls around you, scorch marks barely covered by some busted open wooden crates, and dark patches of what must be dried blood, in various shades of both red and green. This mess wasn't just caused by dimensional displacement or scavenging, there was a fight for supplies here. One side most likely the Grens, the others armed with more substantial firepower but possibly fewer numbers judging by the ratio or red to greenish blood.
With the intense, purposeful heat of the facitility, the signs of intelligent life, and the sounds and smells of a distinct reptilian presence can only mean one thing to Feld. Lizard people. Sleeth.
Topside things are much less exciting and dangerous. Guard duty is never glamorous, for better or worse, however no matter what it is always frustrating. It doesn't help being trapped in a multi-dimensional leak-filled arboreal labyrinth intent on trapping everything inside of it. The strange people in animal masks, the not-Warforged from Feld's world, not-elves with zealotrous attitudes about nature, and now a wild goose chase for something that may or may not be here that may or may not help them escape.
This all weighed in Vic's mind. It's what led to him starting one of his many stories about stone and rock and the earth to Holly.
Only then, during a rousing haiku about a boulder, do you all hear the snapping of twigs. A sound you're all so accustomed to by this point: A patrol. Silhouettes of slender figures adorned in feathers and twigs can be seen making a move to approach you. They haven't seen you, but they'll be on you at any second.
Gatsby on
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Haha, nope, mom didnt raise an idiot.
Feld ducks behind a crate and turns into a sleeth. Thank Jehosaphat that those reptilians are humanoid and well within the limits of his abilities.
Posts
Not really interested in an answer, Leaf shifts to her feline form and climbs to higher ground, paying close attention to whatever she can gather with all the senses available to her.
Pushing past the jammed door into what one would think would simply be a room the size of a walk-in closet, Feld instead stumbles down a ramp, into a place that looks like an underground facility. All of the machinery around Feld remains still, dead without any power, but a low hum does emanate from somewhere through a hallway to his left. Once he regains his bearings Feld suddenly feel a sharp prick at the base of his skull. A familiar atmosphere feels like it begins to cushion the inspector's entire form, everything begins to feel less unhinged than it has during his entire occupation within Eberron. Before he can investigate the humming of what must be the only power source left, what looks like an old military locker catches his eye. Sitting in the corner, stacked against more like it, it hangs open invitingly with the some scraps of food wrappers littering the inside while a garish green gas mask hangs from the built-in door hook. Obviously, like Al said, the Gren aren't interested in anything technological in these woods.
Speaking of which, Leaf's scanning of the area doesn't bring up anything. No sights, sounds, or smells that would trigger what she'd consider any elf or human-like figures. However one thing does catch her off-guard. Coming from inside the shed, the feline catches a whiff of something, possibly several things moving as a group. The stench is potent, but apparently only to Leaf, resembling that of a hot-spring writhing with life. Scaled, frilled, taloned life.
She slips into the shed, quickly moving to the side of that "gren" that's wearing Feld's clothes and backpacks and smells like Feld. "Is there normally anything in here that would smell like a group of sulfur-y lizards?" she whispers.
Recalling the layout Al briefly showed you, this must be where the power source they need should be. Despite the disarray such a room is in, there's still plenty to salvage. Some spare canteens, still filled with clean enough water; a couple of hand-held electronic positioning system devices al though you're not entirely sure how effective they'd be on Eberron or in this woods; a modular component that seems to be an augment for Feld's collapsable staff, and some fuel canisters plus a half-filled tin of bullets.
The power source, however, is nowhere to be seen. What was giving off such a loud hum before is a sizeable space heater parked in the corner, obviously running on spare battery power. Now, amidst the humid conditions and no longer rummaging around, bits and pieces you both skimmed over begin to leap out at you.
Arrows either snapped in half or lodged in the walls around you, scorch marks barely covered by some busted open wooden crates, and dark patches of what must be dried blood, in various shades of both red and green. This mess wasn't just caused by dimensional displacement or scavenging, there was a fight for supplies here. One side most likely the Grens, the others armed with more substantial firepower but possibly fewer numbers judging by the ratio or red to greenish blood.
With the intense, purposeful heat of the facitility, the signs of intelligent life, and the sounds and smells of a distinct reptilian presence can only mean one thing to Feld. Lizard people. Sleeth.
Topside things are much less exciting and dangerous. Guard duty is never glamorous, for better or worse, however no matter what it is always frustrating. It doesn't help being trapped in a multi-dimensional leak-filled arboreal labyrinth intent on trapping everything inside of it. The strange people in animal masks, the not-Warforged from Feld's world, not-elves with zealotrous attitudes about nature, and now a wild goose chase for something that may or may not be here that may or may not help them escape.
This all weighed in Vic's mind. It's what led to him starting one of his many stories about stone and rock and the earth to Holly.
Only then, during a rousing haiku about a boulder, do you all hear the snapping of twigs. A sound you're all so accustomed to by this point: A patrol. Silhouettes of slender figures adorned in feathers and twigs can be seen making a move to approach you. They haven't seen you, but they'll be on you at any second.
Feld ducks behind a crate and turns into a sleeth. Thank Jehosaphat that those reptilians are humanoid and well within the limits of his abilities.