Chapter 5: The Rescue

[Sir Bedivere]

(OOC: So you are saying you laid the corpse in the alcove? How romantic.)

OOC: An elf's gotta have standards, you know, and he was the best smelling of the lot of you.

[Hywaywolf]

"so which way should we go? lead on, McGruff."

[jstater]

Straight ahead and around the corner.

[Sir Bedivere]

"Master Shybolt, you seem a sneaky fellow. Maybe you could scout ahead a bit?"

[Nekron99]

Brother Arven assumes the ready position in the rear. "You have my personal prayer gents, but unfortunaly that is all that I have available to sooth your wounds. I shall put in a kind word for you with the higher up should any not make it. Assuming you do not have any hidden sin, you know like say stealing from close associates or something like that for instance."

[Hywaywolf]

"Master Grumm has requested the honor of announcing his presence with authority. I have granted that to him. If he should choose to do otherwise i would of course scout ahead."

Shybolt frowns at the clerics comments and wonders if he was seen pocketing the loot. At least he had already gotten some healing.

[Solomoriah]

Sorry guys, lost track. Didn't realize you'd decided how to proceed. I'll try to get an update done tonight.

[Sir Bedivere]

"You have my personal prayer gents, but unfortunaly that is all that I have available to sooth your wounds. I shall put in a kind word for you with the higher up should any not make it."

Timorel arches an eyebrow at the cleric's optimism while he drags the second trog corpse over and dumps it on top of the first one.

"Assuming you do not have any hidden sin, you know like say stealing from close associates or something like that for instance."

"Hmmm," Timorel says to himself, thoughtfully.

"Master Grumm has requested the honor of announcing his presence with authority. I have granted that to him. If he should choose to do otherwise i would of course scout ahead."

"Your Highness! How magnanimous of Your Graciousness to allow us to sacrifice our lives to preserve Your Majesty's dignity! I never knew Your Most Favored Self was so generous!"

Noting the blood seeping through all of his comrades' torn clothing, Timorel changes to his Nikes. He's ready with Sleep and his sword, and he keeps an eye behind for a clear path out.

[Hywaywolf]

"Why don't you take the lead, tough guy?"

[Sir Bedivere]

"As you wish." Timorel walks down the hall to the corner and stops. He quickly looks around the corner so as (he hopes) not to be seen by anyone there.