Little Demontry

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"Tis 'aint right." Says one man in the market to another nearby as he tries to shuffle closer to the storefront for warmth. "Me leg didn't warn nothin' about no snow! Yet here it be! Snowin'! Still!"

It's a familiar complaint through the market. People complaining about the snow. How it doesn't let up. Never. Not during the night. Not during the day. Unceasing it is, piling up and up and up. It seems... unnatural. Even when it melts it comes back with a vengeance.

"Get 'yer Telamon dolls! Get 'yer Archmage Telamon dolls here! Buy one get a free Pothy with a bow tie!" One of the merchants calls out cheerfully with a pile of plush dolls of Telamon stacked up for sale. Not two stalls down there's a stack of Harkashan plushies that rumble when you pull the cord. Since seemingly no one could agree one what to make him say. These come with a complementary sample of extra-hot chili to ward off the cold. One bite guaranteed to warm the body!

The Goblin is simply just annoyed at the snow, as it makes it more difficult for her to walk around. So, for the most part, she flies. Today is no different, as she lands with a soft crunch in the newly fallen snow, muttering as she begins to look around.

She gasps, and runs to a stall, where they have a new meat on a stick delight... maple ham. A stickful of ham pieces, lovingly braised in honey and rotisseried to deliciousness. Murder gets several, leaving the vendor with a sizable gold coin.

Another gasp as she see the rumbling Harkashan plushie. Glancing around, she sneaks to the side of the stall, and then quickly darts out front. "One Harkashan plushie please!" The transaction is almost not fast enough, the Goblin becoming agitated. The chili pepper is quickly inhaled, and the plushie is hidden away quickly in her backpack.

Dirk has made the trek into Alexandria to bring a load of leather and pelts to market. He has his sturdy dwarf-built cart set up, with the side-mounted shelf lowered down by its chains to display rolls of tanned deer hide, soft white fox fur, mink tails, and other various and sundry products of the hunter's trade. But while his pony Thistle placidly munches on oats from the feed bag strapped to his nose, Dirk is busily working with a shovel to keep the area around his cart clear. Steam puffs from behind his scarf as he goes at the piling snow with workmanlike efficiency. His plump cheeks and big dwarven nose are bright red from the cold. But sturdy dwarves like himself thrive in cold climates.

"Ah, it's nae so bad," he calls over his shoulder to the fellow complaining. "Now, the storm of Eight Eighty Four, -that- was miserable. Drifts so deep ye had tae -swim- yer way through 'em! To say naught o' the ice crustin' over everything!" He looks over his shoulder as a couple of kids go pelting past. "Boom! Boom! Gotcha!" one of them crows. He pulls back on the string of his very own Dirk Stormgrip plushie, making the thunderbelcher held in the doll's fist fire its cork with a POP! Dirk chunks his shovel down in the snow, resting his hands atop it as he beams with pride. "D'aww!" He can't keep the grin off his face, making his eyes twinkle merrily beneath the hang of his shaggy white brows. He never thought he'd live to see the day where he got his -own- line of plushies, and yet here we are. Some part of him always longed to be a great hero.

But then, there's Murder close by. The burly old snowbeard lifts a hand to wave over his head. "Oy, Murder! All right?" he calls.

The streets of Alexandria were alive with a heavy snowfall, and it kept coming down. It was a wonderful time, for certain!

Eztli was completely unfazed by the heavy snow, with the small makari trudging through the street in good cheer, wearing a fairly light robe that probably did little for the cold. Said trudging stops as they pass by some of the stalls. "Oh, I just have to have one of those." Eztli chuckles, changing course to make a beeline for one of the stalls.

Bryn doesn't mind the snow so much, even if she's only moderately dressed for the cold; a few fur wraps on arms and legs, mostly. It's not enough to keep her out of the market, though most of her business looked to be in Goblintown and the khazad section as she already has a sack hanging heavy with stuff when she walks into the more general district from those parts.

The calls of dolls and chili catch her ears and her eye follows. Hot food's always a good thing... and a toy or two of people she's met sounds amusing. She heads thattaways and spies a Murder as she nears. "Sounds like somebody's jumpin in on yer racket."

Carver is walking in step with Eztli, but unlike the Sith Makar, is not immune to the cold. Or even unfazed by it. She bundled up even more than usual in layers of hide and fur, the many-times patched hide armor now with hood and fur collar of some unrecognizable beast. "Which one? I recognize some of them, but not many... this red lizard guy, I saw him in the temple. Heard his voice in me head even."

Murder squeaks in surprise, peering at Dirk. "He was like that when I found him!" She blinks a few times. "Uh, doing okay." A little wave is given.

Somewhere close by, a deep rumbling is heard, somewhere behind the Goblin.

She turns again, also seemingly surprised, and shrugs. "Their chilis are nice, but they are not as hot as what I sell. You can't just eat mine unless you like literally burning your insides." Her meat-onna-sticks are remembered, and she busies herself wolfing down three, one after the other, hardly chewing. The hiccups begin.

GAME: Carver rolls perception: (18)+14: 32
GAME: Bryn rolls perception: (16)+10: 26
GAME: Murder rolls perception: (19)+21: 40
GAME: Eztli rolls perception: (7)+5: 12

A tiny doll leaps up out of the blue, a pale doll with flashing green eyes and dark clothes, it wears a broad grin as it races toward the merchant that just sold Murder her doll, leaps upon the poor unsuspecting man, and BITES him. The man lets out a surprised noise and *thuds* to the ground.

GAME: Murder rolls knowledge/local: (7)+4: 11
GAME: Dirk rolls knowledge/local: (20)+3: 23
GAME: Bryn rolls knowledge/local: (14)+3: 17
GAME: Carver rolls knowledge/religion: (1)+3: 4 (EPIC FAIL)

Murder's eyes are drawn to the running doll, and blinks as it jumps upon the man and bites him. "Hey! That doll just bit the man!" She helpfully points out the doll and man combo with her collection of meat-onna-stick sticks. And is reminded again they exist, and monches on another three as she runs over to the stall and stricken man.

"So which doll was that? They are only making dolls of famous people." There's a deep rumbling sound from behind the Goblin. "Like Harkashan."

Dirk startles out of his reverie as he hears the merchant cry out, and wheels around just in time to see the man falling to the ground. "Beards o' me fathers!" he cries. His shovel topples to the ground as he takes off at a run, trundling over to the poor fellow. Snow sprays from the ground as he skids to a halt, going to one knee. He gently helps the man sit up. "Are you a'right, laddie?" Murder, however, proves immanently helpful. He looks up, and over his shoulder as she points out the doll. When he lays eyes on it, those eyes get wide as teacups. His face turns white as milk. "Blessed Dana defend me," he whispers hoarsely. He looks around furtively. "Who... who made -that- filthy thing?! That's nae hero at -all-!"

"Oh, hey Murder! And hey, Dirk? yeah, Hey! Been a while!" Eztli exclaims, waving animatedly. "Yeah, that's Harkashan, he's a big softie, unlinke these small softies." Eztli chuckles to Carver. "But, just, hey, wait a minute!"

The small makari is too focused on the stuffed lizards as she reaches for another much tinier stuffed makari, with an equally tiny loincloth. "Oh, wait till he sees this." Eztli laughs loudly, for the brief moment before they quiet. "Eh? What's that about someone falling over?" She wonders, taking a look back to Carver before heading over to where the goblin and Dirk went.

""N Blondie, too!" Bryn adds, pointing at the rack of Telamon dolls. Then she spies the leaping... biting(?) doll, and blinks. Then she points at that one. "That'n likes bitin... Ey, weren there a vampire round 'ere one time that had green eyes? Colby 'r summin? Heard some stories."

Carver was watching, thankfully. The sight of malicious murderer marionettes does not surprise her, but does seem to unsettle. "Jus' be careful, they say these things eat you and praise Carcorath in the night." The dolls probably. She pushes back her cloak to free her arm, laying a hand on the long paring knife strapped to her belt as she follows the sorcerer.

The tiny doll stares at Dirk knowingly, its tiny face bloodied and grinning broadly. It hops a short distance away and then waves a tiny hand. Suddenly two Harkashan plushies hop off the display and start marching toward Murder with... murderous intent in their little beady eyes. It's hard to look menacing when you're that tiny but they manage. Worse, the little vampire doll is whipping some of the other dolls into a little murderous frenzy!

A left! A right! People are starting to back away from the sight of the moving dolls that don't seem quite... normal. Wait... That Telamon doll up top seems to be making some motions like it's casting a spell...

GAME: Murder rolls spellcraft: (10)+10: 20
GAME: Bryn rolls spellcraft: (13)+9: 22
GAME: Eztli rolls spellcraft: (11)+14: 25

Seeing the intent in the dolls' eyes, the Goblin immediately reaches for the sword on her back. "Looks like they want a fight..." Her grin is broad and toothy. "Gonna give it to them."

"Someone uhm... should probably call the priests in. Old priests and young priests."

Bryn thought, at first, it might be part of some kind of show... but she doesn't see any strings, and the bloodied merchant looks, well, bloodied. Not alot, but looks pretty real. "What in Kor's colossal cod's goin on?!" She turns her head to look to her left and right, finally spying Carver (and seeing her putting a hand on a blade doesn't make Bryn feel any more cozy about things). Back to the bitey doll, then to Teladoll. "It's tryin summin, but ain' got no fingas! Ain' gonne work!" She'd show it a finger-waggle, but she's reaching for her own blade, now. "N where'd the guy go?!" There was a guy with the doll when she first spotted it, and now she's looking for him again. "He's prolly the one startin shite!"

Dirk scowls dourly. "Damn it, me thunderbelcher! It's on me cart! Someone, look after this poor lad!" He gently eases the merchant back down before he hops to his feet and trundles over to his cart. He hops up on tiptoes and reaches over the side, fishing around until he comes up with his blessed weapon. He twirls it artfully up into a ready grip, racking the slide with a menacing CHK-CHAK! He looks around with narrowed eyes. "Right, where -is- the wee devil!" he growls.

Maybe Eztli was expecting more from an archmage, forgetting that it was in fact, just a tiny doll. "It's just posturing, poor form. Real Telamon backs up his actions, pretty sure." The makari grumbles, squinting into the forming crowds of dolls. "More importantly, where'd the one that did this go? Still there, right? Think if I burn it to ash it'll stop whatever's going on?"

Carver draws her knife, twisting it in her grip. She did not go into this shopping arrangement expecting to need her weapon. "I don't see 'em." She barely glimpsed the man at the very start, with the heavy snowfall. With people now running and stumbling every which way? She doubt she could even track him, the strange conjurer of toy's tracks likely just one amongst a great many. "Do we... destroy the toys?" That would make them the grinch out to ruin christmas.

Indeed, the 'wee devil' is lost in the crowd. With Dirk looking for him it seems that the Kol doll seems to think that the best idea is to hide. Now it's nowhere in sight at all. Tiny little thing is hidden somewhere and the other dolls are falling over inert without the other to command them. Seems like they're not dangerous without that one to lead them. Not that you're terribly sure that they were all that dangerous to start with frankly…

GAME: Murder rolls perception: (18)+21: 39
GAME: Bryn rolls perception: (13)+10: 23
GAME: Carver rolls perception: (7)+14: 21
GAME: Dirk rolls Perception: (3)+20: 23
GAME: Eztli rolls perception: (7)+5: 12
GAME: Murder rolls weapon42: (9)+26: 35
GAME: Murder rolls damage42+2d6: aliased to 2d6+12+2d6: (7)+12+(10): 29

The Goblin begins the hunt, looking under carts and stalls, behind buildings, even flies up for a while to search from above.

Somewhere along the way, there's a loud squeak, then snarling and growling. "BITE ME WILL YOU?!" A short time later, Murder wobbles back to where it began.

"It bit me."

She holds up her wounded hand. "I... need a priest."

Bryn is searching for the thing, too, but she only sees about half what most everyone else does. The best clue comes from her ears (and she's got both of those!) with Murder's squeal. Of course, the gobber isn't really much easier to spot in a crowd of people than the doll, neither, so she only does that when Murder returns. "Ey! Y'alright? A priest?" She peers a little harder. "Fer that li'l scratch? Ye sure?"

Dirk is on the hunt. And normally, he hunts -very- well. In his beloved forest, or even in the mountains that birthed his people. Hunting in a crowded town square is not very much like that at all. But he does give it his level best. But even despite his sharp eye and masterful skill, he's not able to track down this particular quarry. That is, until he hears Murder crying out. He wheels around, bringing his thunderbelcher up, ready to fire. But Murder's got everything handled in the fire department.

With wide eyes, he lowers his weapons. "Dana's flowery teats," he says. He makes his way over to the goblin, already reaching to his belt to draw the wand off his hip. "Here, las--Murder. I'm nae a priest, but I do ken a bit o' healin' magicks. Let me have a look at yet."

Whatever magic was brewing in the small makari's hand was quickly snuffed as the plushies all fell back to inanimateness. "Guess it needed to keep them moving. Think they're safe again?" Eztli wonders, glancing back to Carver. "Hey, I'm no good at healing, but think you can help Dirk? He knows the same sorta magic you do, might be able to help, or for the man who, not entirely sure what happened to him, but looks like he needs help."

The Goblin looks at Bryn sadly and nods her head. "Kol was a vampire. His doll was ... also likely a vampire. I hit him with my sword, it is a holy relic, so it works very well against vampires and undead and demons and such. The doll burned away to ashes."

She holds her hand out to Dirk. "It's not that it hurts or that I am in danger of bleeding out. KOL WAS A VAMPIRE!" Her eyes widen to saucers. "This doll bit that man, and me. A priest should be able to make sure we're not going to turn into vampires!"

"I didn't bring me herbs," Carver says, shrugging. "Only a few berries to snack on, an' like I was always taught, if suckin' out snake poison doesn't work then leechin' a vampiric doll's snaggletooth chomp not going to be much better." At Murder's dramatics, she rubs her cheeks with knuckles. "Soun' like she really just wants to get a cleric anyhow."

Dirk reaches out to take Murder's hand in his. The other points the wand at the bite mark and gives a little swish and a flick. The tip lights up with a ball of soft green light that soothes and warms, easing the pain of the injury. "I -know- what Kol was," he growls in a tight voice. "That clean-shaven shitpile wrecked my house. He stole my will. Knowin' that he's so much dust on the wind is -all- that lets me sleep at night." He takes a step back. "But ye dinnae turn if they just bite ye. They have tae drain ye dry first. But if it'll make ye feel better, I'll walk ye over tae Althea's temple." He glances over his shoulder at the merchant who got bitten first. "Might need tae bring yon lad along wi' us, just tae be safe."

Thankfully, when the priests arrive shortly, they confirm that dolls, however toothy, can not turn people into vampires.

Meanwhile, somewhere nearby, a small doll with glowing red eyes watches the commotion with glee. "If they have that much trouble with him, wait until they get a taste of me."

-End