Ok, so the vampire’s pantsed: this is a bit horrifying, it turns out, as his arms aren’t the only. . . well. You know. Tea-towel rack. Fortunately his robes are long enough to conceal most of this. He isn’t modest, though.
He seems to be speeding up. My, what large teeth he has.
Do I get to use my ‘Scepter of Many Sharp Pointy Things’ yet?
The vampire stops hopping for a moment, smiles, broadly, and dusts himself off and shakes out his arms and legs, limbering up. “I vas chust kiddink,” he says, and runs up the wall and jumps away from it, flipping twice in the air, flying about 10 feet further than you think is realistic, and landing on his feet in a badass kung fu stance.
Oh, crap.
:: Sunspace sneezes garlic, the remains of dinner ::
I set the dial on my scepter to sharp pointy thing No. 23, stake. And to keep the vampire occupied while I get close enough to impale him, I set the light on my crown to “bright sunny day”, and aim it at his head.
Eep!
:: Turns Undead ::
Errr…not in the “turns into an undead creature” sense…
So… are we trying to kill him? It? That? Whatever-gender?
I take a deep breath, hop to the side,(So that I am not where I was then I took my breath) and try to lop off their limbs.
Ah, I’m glad everyone’s been instructed to hold their breath. Letting rip with the white phosphorus load, which should give chummy over there (and I don’t mean Scott unless the dice are particularly cruel to us) a nice dose of burning to worry about, plus a faceful of pungent smoke. You would turn white as snow if you knew what the alchemists’ guild charges for these babies…
Wasn’t there a vorpal-blade artist about the place somewhere? Beheading works quite nicely on most vampires.
To heck with this.
The Sun is Fusion-powered, & lethal to Vampires, this Powered Armor & Plama Flamethrower is Fusion powered…<Bosda lets her rip>…Ah! I love the smell of superheated nuclear plasma in the Dungeon! It smells like…well, kindergarten tempra paint, really, but that’s not inspiring…
>OOC>Meh. I get back and all the fun’s over.</OOC>
~beheads the remnants~
Um…
Ok. Well, I will be away this evening, but for what it is worth, I search for valuables, divy up what I find among the party. (yes, I can do that, since I was the one to think of it first). Unless there are any unexpected surprises in the loot, I head back downstairs, back to the door I just opened.
Undead thread of the damned!
Sorry, been busy.
From the glare of Bosda’s power-armor the vampires turn to dust, leaving only Qing-era imperial robes.
It smells like tempera paint in here. And it tastes like library paste.
Aside from the robes there doesn’t seem much to divvy up. Looking around more carefully you only notice that the monks in their hurry did leave a gentleman’s club and a. . . nice-looking backpack.
You head downstairs to the corridor beyond the door. It’s a long corridor, IIRC, and turns left up ahead.
I take the backpack, and examine its contents carefully.
I Turn left. Moon cat, please share.
I shall once I know what the contents are.
~pokes capybara~
[sub]<ooc>Scott Plaid, sent you an email</ooc>[/sub]
They left a gentleman’s club? I’ll see if the doorman will let me in, muttering something about an emergency committee meeting.
The backpack is empty but looks roomy.
Malacandra-- are you male or female? Girls can’t use the gentlemen’s club. Wait, I think we allready went through this, and as I recall you’re definitely a girl.
Ha. Ha ha. Just baiting. What’s wrong with being a girl? Ok, you wield the Gentlemen’s Club.
Scott walks down the hallway. . . and halfway down the corridor towards the turn. . capybara stops to get a cup of coffee as she’s barely awake. . .
I turn back, hoping to see if I can get some coffee from anyone else in the party. I could really use some, too.
runs through, drops off a thermos of coffee
Here you go!
It’s made just the way **ScottPlaid ** likes it.
exits stage right