"Never, ever empty this person's pockets again!" referencing Harpo Marx, Sergeant Constantine Bothari, and any JOAT! -- Anon Guest
Okay, now I've fucked up, thought Taako, transmutation wizard extraordinaire. Crew-member of the Starblaster. Multi-dimensional traveller. One of the Seven Birds of Prophecy. Member of the B.O.B. Best chef in all of Faerûn. Oh, and main squeeze of the Grim fucking Reaper. This thought came, of course, at half-consciousness as the not-so-stupid guards dragged him to the throne room of the latest Big Bad.
On the plus side, now he knew where the leader of this particular horde was. On the minus side, his allies did not. The most that the B.O.B. could do was track where he was thanks to his bracer. They could not, for example, send a team through solid rock to save his gorgeous ass. Not unless they could get a line to his boyfriend, his sister, or her husband. And worse - someone had taken his hat.
That was an insult worse than his current injuries. And there was no place worse for an injured wizard than right in the middle of the nest of the Big Bad Badguy. Glass cannons did not belong in the middle of the powder keg. Not unless they had something really cool up their sleeve.
"General Kalen! We caught their wizard."
Taako hung limply between these muscled powerhouses, playing possum while he came up with a plan. Pro... he'd technically had a Rest of some length. Shorter than a Long Rest, but enough to regain some of his spell slots and a little HP. Con... he was surrounded by goons. Pro... the name Kalen sounded awfully familiar. Not that it was a common name, but there was a promise to keep. Con... he had numbers against him. What wide-area effect spell could he use against this lot? Maybe pick a few of the Obligatory Stupid Guards and cast Crown of Madness on them. But for now... best to play possum and wait.
"Search him. Make certain he's disarmed."
Well. They'd already taken his Umbrastaff and KrEbStAr. Those were the famous ones. Did they know about the wooden hairpin made of Hazel? Or any one of his multitudinous rings, earrings, bracelets, and pendants? Probably not, since they were going for his pockets. And demonstrating why it's a very dumb idea to dip one's hand into a wizard's pockets without a one-drink minimum.
Goon Left found the mousetrap pocket. Goon Right squealed in disgust and flicked something moist off his hand. "Who the fuck leaves loose chocolate pudding in their pockets?"
And since they dropped him in the process, Taako 'miraculously' recovered his consciousness. "You should try my breast pocket, homie, it's got the banana flavour."
Twenty goons instantly were on their guard. Crossbows, throwing knives, swords, even long-bows were pointed his way. Taako smiled and they looked even more nervous. It took him all of a second to find the one who looked the most weak-willed. Big muscular fella, three left of the actual throne.
Good Gods, that thing has palanquin handles. He carries this stupid thing with him everywhere... "One question before this all goes south for you, bubbeleh. Are you any relation to the Governor Kalen who used to run Ravensroost?"
He looked like the ass end of an Otyugh, all dressed up in silk, velvet, and tacky jewellery. "I used to hold that title, once..."
"Excellent," grinned Taako, pretending to put his hands up, but in reality, putting one manicured hand to the wand hidden in his hair. Crown of Madness on the goon. Prestidigitation to create a foul odour on the bowmen and thereby throw off their aim. "This is for Julia," he said, and, "Abra-ka-fuck you!" Out came the wand, and off fired the worst spell in his repertoire.
Let's just say tentacles and c'thulu level horrors are involved. Taako did his best to avoid any projectiles and the closer goons' blows.And was, fortunately, saved by the arrival of the meat shield and their Cleric actually being competent for a change.
They left Kalen just enough hit points for Magnus to strike the final blow. Justice was served, as recommended, perfectly chilled.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / taden]
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