"Fair point.", he concedes, watching the edges of the door for any hint of shadows or strange lights coming from outside. He's still standing like he's going to slash at the door at any moment.The Rookie wrote: ↑Wed Apr 05, 2017 7:10 am"I mean, I could freeze it shut, but then we've got no way out." Sylvi says as she fiddles with clothing and such, growing increasingly frustrated with their predicament. "We could be safe, but there's nothing stopping them from getting Rita or Ana while we're in here. We'd be leaving them to die."
Phaing wrote: ↑Tue Apr 04, 2017 7:50 pmHe wraps some of that around his hips, even putting his sword down at a time like this is better than scandalizing the young girls in the building. However -
"No, we aren't waiting for THEM to make a move... where did you get all that stuff?" And to Sylvi; "Your spear is back there too. And don't worry about the cold, we aren't leaving just yet. We are taking over this establishment." He grins at them both.
"Nobody has had breakfast yet, have they? The Stagecoach does not leave until after breakfast. All we have to do is-"
At that moment, some kind of green gas starts to seep under the door.
"Looks like we ended up waiting for their move anyway, Raimius. Sylvi I highly recommend sealing the edges of the door with your ice. Can you do it in a thin layer, enough to buy us some time and block the gas, but not so much that we can't get out?" He says this with some urgency as he backs away from the door even further. "Unless the Templar wants to become public enemy number one in Salma, I think it's okay to assume whatever that is is nonlethal, and our mage friend didn't just murder everyone in the inn, so I'm thinking some sort of vaporous sedative. But where would he store all the gas? Does he have stockpiles stored in every inn just for this purpo-... no! Maybe he summoned it!" Tycho starts lowering his sword as he continues vocalizing his rambling train of thought.The Rookie wrote: ↑Wed Apr 05, 2017 7:10 am"Urghh... What's that?" She asked, pointing towards the smoke.
Then a thought breaks him out of one rambling over analysis and into another. "But what about him and his thugs? He obviously isn't going to gas himself...." he starts mumbling to himself, hand at his chin, his sword now pointing directly at the ground.