Max
There's a sound of singing from the corridor. "Forsooth," sighs a world-weary Quazarn. "Chief Tallbard!"
Age of Fable
I answer the door, taking the symbiote repellent if that's what he's come for.
Max
"Here now, let's take care of that symbiote problem. We'll have it licked in no time!" chimes the Chief, brandishing what looks like a caulking gun.
He looks askance at Quazarn, sulking near the door. "Haven't you got manacles for the prisoner? Pin his arms, man, before his unleashes his hoodoo!"
Age of Fable
"Oh, he won't be any trouble. He knows I'm the fastest crossbow in Hoblingdom."
Max
"Hrmm. It's a little out of tune," mulls the Chief, "Not the way I'd handle him. But he doesn't look very dangerous." Tallbard waves a hand in front of Quazarn's glazed over eyes, and snaps his fingers near the warlock's ear. "He's gone flat as a bent sackbutt. You won't fool us, cheater! Now, officer...what was your name again? Let's get to it, see what he knows."
The Chief undoes the top two buttons of his uniform and begins rolling up his sleeves.
Age of Fable
[wait - I thought this guy was an EX policeman?]
Max
[That's right. And?
[You're on his turf. And he's Chief pain in the neck around here.]
Age of Fable
"Uh...no can do Chief. He got off on a technicality last time, can't let that happen again."
Max
"Well, fol-dee-rol, officer," hums Tallbard innocently. "I'll just stay on as an observer then. Representing Mr. Smalls' interests. This spell-flinger here caused a whole heap of damage to Mr. Smalls' property today. And Mr. Smalls is a Big Man in God City. Primo Uomo, understand?"
Age of Fable
"You of all people should know that you can't be an observer."
Max
"You're not from around here, are you, Officer?" smiles Tallbard, an edge creeping into his voice, "So let me rehearse this for you. If you want to keep right in this town, you gotta keep right with Mr. Smalls. Is that catchy enough for you? Can you follow the tune? 'Cause I'd sure like to interrogate this freak here and get on with my business."
Dr Rotwang!
[OOC: Vacation's over. Back to my normal schedule!]
Regaining his wits from the haze of psychometric morbidity, Quazarn turns his mighty brain to the present! He shakes his head gently, touching his temples and blinking.
"Officer!" he remarks to Tallbard. "You're repellent." He tries to make it sound like 'Your repellent?' but he doesn't try very hard. "You're here, still, without it?"
As he does this, he sizes up the Chief, his distance from arm's length -- and his fighting ability. Though he often ignores it, Quazarn is stronger in his physique than he is thaumaturgically; he can probably take this guy and get himself and the Hobling out of here...
Max
"Found your voice again, son?" he grins, with suave menace. "I've got the repellent right here, now that you mention it. Stand right there and open your mouth. Officer, you'd better grab his arms and hold him steady."
Chief Tallbard hefts the applicator, waiting for Hobson to move in. He's just over 6' tall, about the same build as Quazarn, intimidatingly handsome. His voice is soft and deep, smooth as blended whiskey, and his eyes have the crinkle and gleam of a matinee idol's.
[Welcome back, Doc. Hope you had a fun time off!
[Say, just noticed something on your character sheet: looks like you've forgotten to tally your Psi-Resist. I believe it should be 44%.]
Age of Fable
[I can't think of any way out of this short of attacking the Chief, so unless Quazarn can do something I'm going to have to let him join in the 'interrogation']
Max
[Here's a data point I forgot to mention. I know it looks like a JM orc ex machina but this was a straight up dice roll, word to ya mothers.]
Just as Tallbard takes a cautious step toward Quazarn, the door to the locker room lurches open. The orcish attendant Chet cranes in his head and scans the locker room, his bloodshot eyes widening when he spots the Chief.
Age of Fable
I move behind Quazarn to 'pin his arms' as requested.
"Now then son, let's not have any trouble."
If it's safe to do so, I'll try to whisper to Quazarn - "I have no idea what to do at this point."
Dr Rotwang!
Quazarn watches Tallbard approach --
The Orc bursts in through the door --
The Chief hoists up his repellent --
"Too late, ossifer," Quazarn offers casually, and jerks his head toward the orc. "Symbiote's that way."
Max
Keeping the repellent gun trained on Quazarn, Tallbard stands sideways, trying to keep both the door and the warlock in view. He takes a quick glance and spies the attendant.
"Chester? What's going on here?" demands the Chief distractedly, then turns quickly back to Hobson. "Officer, secure the warlock!"
Dr Rotwang!
[Well, so much for my well-thought-out plan to nut the cop and run.]
Max
"How should I know, Chief Balltard?" mumbles Chester sourly. "I been on my break"
Tallbard's mustache bristles, and he turns for an instant to glare at the orc. "What did you just call me, boy?"
[The 'officer' in question is just Hobson, and Chester is just the orc locker room attendant and general dogsbody. That's clear, right?]
Dr Rotwang!
[Not really. I was calling Ballt- uh, Tallbard 'ossifer', and I have no idea who this Chet guy is. Is it safe to cock-knock the Cheef?]
Max
[Is it safe? You'll have to decide that for yourself.
[But Chet doesn't seem likely to run to his defense. If you had to guess he's been sparking magic incense on his break, and he's not exactly gazing upon the Chief with a look of reverent affection.]
Dr Rotwang!
Quazarn sighs. "Chief Balltard," he says, "The truth must out. There is no symbiote. But!", he declares with a flourish, "There is another thing you must know!"
And Quazarn, The Warlock Who Sucked At being A Warlock, grits his teeth and kicks Tallbard in the groin.
[ATTACK ROLL: 25!]
wulfgar
You made my morning Doc.
Age of Fable
"Oh no! He has magically escaped his bonds, which I definitely had him in!"
Max
[You can go ahead and roll for damage when you attack, along with a Saving Throw for defense. But in this case Chief T's Save was so good you needn't bother with the damage...]
Chief Tallbard is surprised by the conehead's sudden attack, but evades the kick with a the hip swivel of a champion hula-hooper. He raises his hands, palms out.
"Easy tiger. No need to make things any harder for yourself, son. Just take a deep breath and relax. We just need to ask you a few questions." The Chief's voice is deep and calm, laid back like a late night DJ spinning lazy soul records. Chill.
Quazarn feels all the tension in his body ebb away, and begins to wonder what there was to get worked up about.
No comments:
Post a Comment