His ankle is twisted. It hurts to walk, but nothing more. The cactus doesnt have spines on it, which is odd, and is completely hollow. No juice inside it, just green skin and white cactus flesh seperate the air from the sweet smelling air inside the cactus... well, they did.
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Allan grips the rock and focuses, then starts scaling the wall once more.
(d20 roll got 23, rolled 18, +5 AGI and DEX bonus.)
Allan manages to climb to the top of the tower, the sun still overhead. He sits along the rim of the top to rest. The outside wall of the tower is slick and smooth, with absolutely no handholds anywhere along it. The wind up here is strong, making it a little difficult for him to stay seated. If he tried to jump down to the ground outside of the tower, he would surely die, the ground too far below him. He -is- located in a desert though, sand all around him.
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Allan begins climbing back down the tower, travelling back down the path he took on his way up.
(d20 roll got 19, rolled 14, +5 AGI and DEX bonus.)
He takes little injury on his way down, hurting his left thumb a little after slipping but catching himself. He plops his feet down on the sand again. The cactus cracks along the base where Allan kicked it, then falls over, landing with a light thud.
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Robin starts listening in to the discussion. The men are discussing battle plans, the table has a map on it with little figures representing their troops. They seem rather panicked, trying to get something worked out. The man from the painting whispers to you "We've caught sight of a massive squad of Goblins closing in on us. We're trying to disperse our troops smartly."
Allan starts to make a shovel from a piece of the fallen cactus...
(d20 roll got 17)
And succeeds! He now has a CACTUS SHOVEL.
Reltas goes up the wooden stairs. The noise of the bar below is much quieter up here, and there are five doors on either side of the hallway. One of the doors are open a little. It's the one referred to on the note this "Lilah" person gave him. Reltas hears drunken stomping up the stairs behind him, then a man claps a hand on his shoulder.
"'Ey! I know what... what you've been sayin' bout... m-me" He hiccups. "Yeh, that's some reeeal gutsy stuff you've been talking..." He draws a club. "I'll make yeh eat those words!"
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Allan begins to dig through the sand under one of the walls of the tower. As he digs, he notices that the tower does not go very deep into the sand... it rests just on top of the stuff!
Robin suggests that a force should flank the enemy while a frontal defense squad defends. A man across from the table says "Aye, that's a good idea. It would be, I mean, if goblin strategy wasnt to CLUSTER**** US." (Negotiation skill check failed.)
Reltas blocks a strike from the drunkard, trying to calm him down. He stumbles forward attempting to strike, shouting "Oh? Yeh? 'Yer the only elf in the bar! You cant t-trick me... but... what if..." He lowers his club. "What if that other ******* tricked me?" He turns away and walks down the stairs, in drunken thought. (Negotiation skill check was successful.)
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Reltas enters the room. It is plainly furnished, having only a bed, a nightstand with a small candle on it, and a small desk with a chair pushed in to it. The desk has a couple drawers that clothes could be stored in. The smell of the bar wafts wonderfully into this room.
Allan finishes his escape hole, the other side of the wall can easily be reached now without the fall. His shovel miraculously holds up through all of this. He can now escape from the tower.
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Allan runs like a man possessed, trying to put as much distance between himself and that giant deathtrap of a tower as possible. Once he's far enough away, he examines his surroundings.
((@Shadow: For a defending force, "Flanking" is a really, really stupid decision, especially when you're facing a horde army like goblins.))
The men around the table look genuinely suprised by Robin's sudden outburst. The man from the painting leans forward to the table. "She has a point you know. This is the ballsiest move that's been suggested so far, and it sure as hell wouldnt be as much a catastrophic failure as some of the others." Two of the men draw back, ashamed. "We do need some sort of move that they wouldnt expect, or we're doomed."
Allan climbs to the top of a dune. Around him is desert and dune, the color of the sand changing just west of the tower, the direction he is headed. He can hear the faint trickle of water, along with the bleating of some animals. He must be near a river.
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"Of course. I need a break from these lunatics anyways." He gets out of his seat, saying "I'm going to take a short break, gentlemen. I propose you do the same," then leaves the room with you.
Allan darts away from the tower, towards the river surrounded by the white sand. The sun still is overhead, not moving in the sky whatsoever.
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He uses the two arrowshaft-halves and the cloth to fashion a splint for his ankle.
"That should hold up"
Then, Allan peers inside of the cactus.
There is nothing inside of the cactus, besides moist hollow-cactus air. Allan is trying to make sense of a smooth hollow cactus.
(d20 roll got 23, rolled 18, +5 AGI and DEX bonus.)
Allan manages to climb to the top of the tower, the sun still overhead. He sits along the rim of the top to rest. The outside wall of the tower is slick and smooth, with absolutely no handholds anywhere along it. The wind up here is strong, making it a little difficult for him to stay seated. If he tried to jump down to the ground outside of the tower, he would surely die, the ground too far below him. He -is- located in a desert though, sand all around him.
Allan begins climbing back down into the center of the tower.
(d20 roll got 19, rolled 14, +5 AGI and DEX bonus.)
He takes little injury on his way down, hurting his left thumb a little after slipping but catching himself. He plops his feet down on the sand again. The cactus cracks along the base where Allan kicked it, then falls over, landing with a light thud.
"I sure hope that the others are as lucky as I am, heh."
Allan starts to make a shovel from a piece of the fallen cactus...
(d20 roll got 17)
And succeeds! He now has a CACTUS SHOVEL.
Reltas goes up the wooden stairs. The noise of the bar below is much quieter up here, and there are five doors on either side of the hallway. One of the doors are open a little. It's the one referred to on the note this "Lilah" person gave him. Reltas hears drunken stomping up the stairs behind him, then a man claps a hand on his shoulder.
"'Ey! I know what... what you've been sayin' bout... m-me" He hiccups. "Yeh, that's some reeeal gutsy stuff you've been talking..." He draws a club. "I'll make yeh eat those words!"
"Hey, I never said anything about you. All i did was come into a bar, have a nice ale and that was it. You MUST have the wrong guy!"
Robin suggests that a force should flank the enemy while a frontal defense squad defends. A man across from the table says "Aye, that's a good idea. It would be, I mean, if goblin strategy wasnt to CLUSTER**** US." (Negotiation skill check failed.)
Reltas blocks a strike from the drunkard, trying to calm him down. He stumbles forward attempting to strike, shouting "Oh? Yeh? 'Yer the only elf in the bar! You cant t-trick me... but... what if..." He lowers his club. "What if that other ******* tricked me?" He turns away and walks down the stairs, in drunken thought. (Negotiation skill check was successful.)
"Ah, the wonders of the bar..."
And with that Allan continues digging.
Allan finishes his escape hole, the other side of the wall can easily be reached now without the fall. His shovel miraculously holds up through all of this. He can now escape from the tower.
((@Shadow: For a defending force, "Flanking" is a really, really stupid decision, especially when you're facing a horde army like goblins.))
Allan climbs to the top of a dune. Around him is desert and dune, the color of the sand changing just west of the tower, the direction he is headed. He can hear the faint trickle of water, along with the bleating of some animals. He must be near a river.
Allan darts away from the tower, towards the river surrounded by the white sand. The sun still is overhead, not moving in the sky whatsoever.