(052) Reckoning the Abbey

[Tonneau]

Having dispatched the offensive stick, Gustave returns to the centre of the chamber to more closely appraise the trunk and other items.

[Eris]

Dorgan will poke idly, with Wen's staff, at the puddle of now inanimate ooze and see if there was anything within that may be of interest or value or both.

"Yow!" Oh!" Olaf shouts and moans as he rips the mail off.

"You ok, Olaf? Mebbe the Miss has something for them burns. Worst comes ta worst, I can give ya a slug a' something to take yer mind off the pain."

"No, not ok." Olaf grits out, "Gunk, burns like acid and sticks like honey."

"Ruined my mail, too!" he grumbles.

[doctorx]

"Lie still, my Lord," breathes Josiane, studying Olaf's injuries with an anxious eye; "With the White Lady's help I shall do what I can."

She sets about cleaning and binding Olaf's wounds, though she is careful not to let any remnants of the horrid creature that inflicted them come into contact with her skin.

[mushgnome]

Highbough tries to figure out how the ooze got in, and guards the opening to make sure no more come through.

[waysoftheearth]

The Infirmary

Invisible Highbough picks his way across the phlegm covered room and examines the door; it seems the ooze must have slipped in via the quarter inch gap between the stone floor and bottom of the door...

Meanwhile Josiane deals tenderly with Olaf's ooze-burned chest, as the lanky young fighter boldly implies he could handle some of Dorgan's potent draught... Josiane isn't sure which smells stronger; the vile ooze, or Dorgan's brew..?

[waysoftheearth]

The Reliquary

Gustave moves about the sparse store with impunity.

There is a small wooden table adjacent to the wall directly opposite the doorway, upon which there are a motley of plain wooden cups and bowls; a dinner setting for serfs, perhaps? Beneath the table is a modest lockbox hardly more than 1ft square, and the shapeless lump of a Hessian sack. There is little else in sight other than Gustave's own dawdling shadow.

[Tonneau]

Gustave ponders the seeminly harmless items with suspicious, his fingers still tingling from the lesson from the staff.

He prods the lockbox with his foot and, if safe, slides it across the floor to the door way where Armando can weave his magic. If all goes well, he returns for the sack, plucking this from the floor with his sword and giving it similar treatment to the box. Finally, he returns to more deeply scrutinise the cups, wondering if he might be able to get all the items into his pack without touching them (perhaps through artful work with his sword?) to get the lot outside the offensive room where they might be more closely examined.

[mushgnome]

Highbough's (invisible) ears are nine inches long and lined with silken hairs. Nothing is surprising the party through *this* door, not on his watch!

[coffee]

Has the congestion at the top of the stairs lessened enough that Dieter can get up there now? If so, he does (again, avoiding the bad step).

[flightcommander]

Armando reaches the top of the stairs and pops his head up into the chamber where the others are. He stares non-plussed for a moment at the huge blob of plasm covering most of the floor, then turns his attention to Josiane and the others. "M'lady, we have made an intriguing discovery downstairs, though not without a few mishaps — we have two, er, three blinded halflings. If you could join us, your attention would be most appreciated."

And with that, Armando heads back down into the reliquary to attend to the halflings and see if Gustave left any of the wine ...