“Hear him, I should. And just remember that the same goes for me.”
Having to fight zombies makes me really glad I spent the slots to build the Smoke Bomb and Stink Bomb discoveries. They’ll come in really useful. :rolleyes:
I will ready my sling and send one bullet at the first creep that I see inside the building.
Hah! The guy whose entire skillset is diplomacy, intimidation, and charm feels the same way! 
“Zombies. I hate zombies.”
Old sergeant trick. Which makes you the butterbar, I suppose ? Nobody give that man a map and compass, or we’re doomed ! 
Have a care to shout loud, battle brothers, I can’t hear too well with this thing on, says Harald as he puts his helmet on.
I figure we should have the ranged advantage on these poxed sods, so prudence dictates we fling whatever we’ve got at them before charging home. Messer Valente, sir, since you’re the money man, as it were, why don’t you stay back, eh ? We’ll see you through this, no problem, but don’t try and lead from the front. Stupid thing to do. Ask Jarl Aegirson, only you can’t, cause he caught a sword through his stupid throat.
All right, everybody patched up and ready ? Let’s do this ! I touch myself[COLOR=Blue] for spell purposes, pull out a throwing axe and enter the hall.[/COLOR]
OK! That’s sufficient for my purpose. I’ll update tomorrow, so if anyone’s got something additional, they’d better beat me to it.
The group forms up and makes its way through the ruined doors of the Doge’s palace, with Valente taking the lead. A few quick strokes from sword and ax finish the zombies inside the main hall, who were unprepared for the attack. A rug has been thrown into a fireplace, which is creating thick clouds of smoke throughout the hall. You can dimly make out a grand staircase with a smashed chandelier at the base leading upwards and to the left, and smaller doors leading into other rooms off the hallway. The entrance hall is too long to see to the end of, given how thick the smoke is. Valente gestures to a doorway to the right. “Quickly! This way!” Solsken’s best guess is that Valente is heading toward the library, and away from the elf with the sword.
I thought I told you to stay in the rear ! Didn’t I tell him ? I’m sure I told him. Messer Valente, stop exposing yourself ! And we need to go up, not right - there’s a survivor in the upper level. Whatever you’re looking for in the library isn’t worth a warrior’s life. Come on, up the stairs, we’ll come back later.
And somebody douse that fire, it stinks like burnt peasant in here. Err… not that I’d know what that smells like. But if I did, I’m sure it’d smell like this.
“Concur, Harald. Go.”
I grab my spear and prepare to follow my friend up the staircase.
I’d like a sense motive on Valente to see whether he’s being motivated by heroism or greed.
“So once again, Taye is proven correct. Thirty seconds of conversation may have prevented this, but rushing heedless into a burning building works just as well.” Note this is pc sarcasm not a complaint about the decision.
“Friend Valente, perhaps you could tell us why we should head this way? I have met many of your northern citizens and agree the books are probably worth more, but abandoning yon elf does appear unseemly.” While I am speaking to Valente I keep my attention on the hallway where the elf is fighting. Can I try Diplomacy on Valente again?
“Press on towards the elf, friends, we can return here soon enough!”* Glares at Valente. If he’s got reason for the detour he’d best make it known quickly.*
If it looks like there are enough enemies nearby that we’re about to need fire support, Zachary will pop his bomber’s eye extract, but not before, as it has a mighty three-minute duration - fine for a protracted fight, but too short for while we’re wandering around and searching for trouble.
If the others are dithering over which way to go, I look around for a poker or something that I could use to drag the carpet out of the fireplace. I’ll abandon the effort if they figure out which way we’re going.
I assume we are all rushing toward the elf now, maintaining the agreed upon formation.
I would think so until the DM states something that cause a change.
Well, to hell with the carpet, then.
Perhaps Giacomo could do any Appraise on the carpet. Aren’t some tapestries valuable? 
Joseph will be going up the stairs with the rest of the group unless his sense motive result gives him a good reason to follow Valente.
Valente halts. “He’s not in the library? At this time of day? How can you know that?”
I’m going to presume the party tells him.
Valente nods. “We’ll try his bedroom first.”
The group rushes up the stairs, Valente refusing to take a place at the rear of the party. He clearly isn’t the type to lead from behind.
At the top of the stairs, a large salon, lined with mirrors and covered in small tables, light chairs, and glasses of dark wine and plates of bread and cheese on the tables. It looks almost as though an informal party or reception had been in progress when it was violently interrupted. In the rear of the room, stationed around a large oak door, three soldiers stand. They’re all much larger than average, as the Doge’s personal guard is known to be, and they’re in armor, carrying wicked-looking maces. They stare blankly into the distance, with cloudy eyes and vacant expressions. You can’t see much exposed skin, since they’re all wearing the livery of the Doge’s guard and plate armor, but one has a deep gash in his cheek that doesn’t seem to be bleeding.
The guards haven’t noticed you yet; the haze of smoke in the air makes vision difficult and the shouts of citizens in the streets have masked the sound of your approach.
“Let’s get them away from the door,” says Joseph, sotto voce,. “If it’s locked, I imagine one of you clever lads can move around behind and get to work on that particular problem.”
Joseph will cast grease on the floor underneath the guards as soon as they’ve moved a bit away from the door so as to not make the party’s progress through the palazzo more difficult. Here’s hoping that zombies in plate armor have poor reflex saves!