(079) What a Gnome Knows

[acodispo]

Wetzel follows Zax & The Herald, keeping to the second rank and ready to use his spear.

[flightcommander]

Ah, I meant, "Is anybody setting our mighty deeds to dactylic hexameter?"

[Tonneau]

Im not sure what a dactylic hexameter is, but I want one

[waysoftheearth]

I think it's more that your deeds can be the subject of one, or you can otherwise contribute to one

[waysoftheearth]

After only a brief pause for bearings, Zax marches onward.

The passage curls somewhat toward the right for a short ways before giving way to a greater-chamber; possibly four times the volume of the armory, Zax quickly marks the place for a mess hall of the goblin sorts. There are benches and pews and filthy carpets and old easy chairs with the stuffing bursting out of them. The place reeks of goblin-kind and hard-edged tobacco. Across the far side of the room, a HUGELY obese goblin-giant sleeps, sitting in a broad sofa built for three men. It snorts and chugs irregularly, muttering something unintelligible, as if it were teetering on the edge of wakefulness...

[sully]

The Herald tightens his grip on his weapon, waiting for the charge to battle that he knows is inevitable...

If (When) Zax charges, The Herald is right behind him.

[flightcommander]

Akbar catches the eye of the Herald and points first to his arbalest, then the middle of his forehead, and then the goblin-giant. He follows with a suggestive wag of his eyebrows.

[Tonneau]

Zax is struggling with the inner turmoil of trying to balance a powerful desire to immediately crush the giant-gobbo's skull, with the awareness that moving even an inch in his heavy-plate will almost certainly awake the beast, when he hears the busy wafting of Akbars eyebrows, and notes the funny-looking long-legs pointing at his portable ballista.
With a nod of understanding, he leans aside to offer a clear shot.

[acodispo]

Wetzel limbers up his shoulder, ready to hurl his spear if the bolt doesn't finish the enemy off.

[coffee]

Karl prepares himself to rush across the room, should our missiles fail to finish the beast.

He'd get his bow out himself, but there doesn't seem to be room.