#elsewhere

He slowly moves to his feet, a hand going to his belt where his sword hangs. A questioning glance to Vali.

A soft nod, troll speak he suspects, for let's check it out. He motions to one library exit, and then antoehr for himself. Clearly he thinks the Thallian is outside and wants to surround it from both sides.

Art doesn't even flick a glance at the stack of books he is 'abandoning', perhaps a sign of maturity that he is seeing the priority here. He heads to the exit.

(Stealth plus Dex unless he wants to stomp around 😉 )

(who does he look like, Thistle? Gwen?!)

/roll 5

(...Maybe)

(Time of day?)

Arthur, Squire of the House that sees what is coming, did not see the tortoise shell cat that was nosing around and rrrows and nearly trips him. It gives away his location, and reveals him to the goblin Thallian. Greenbrown, wearing a Make Concordia Glitch Again hat, and looking kind of like a nocker without the elegant swirls or fashion sense, it has put something against the base of the window, judging by the steampunk timer and dynamite sticks, a bomb of some sort! The goblin turns to see him, and hisses "##$# Bow-mahn..." And draws, oh, a gun "I'm gonna enjoy killin ya."

About how far away is the goblin, and is there any other cover, a trash can or bushes or anything?

About 8 feet, there is a trashcan, large, green, plastic mostly that's only 3 feet away. There is also a large oak tree five further out currently devoid of leaves.

Art has a sudden pained look, but he does what he must - in one smooth move he throws the book in his had he had forgotten about at the Goblin, and simultaneously dives for the oak tree, trying to put it between him and the goblin.

Arthur throws the book with all his might as he throws himself to the side at the same time! Perhaps the dreaming recognizing noble sacrifice, but as Art hurls his copy of 'Comets: Hammers of the Gods' at the Goblin it heats dead on into the goblin's face, blocking his eyes spread wide and keeping the thallian from finding a bead on his target. The goblin sputters and hurls the book to the side, but by that time, Art has his cover behind the tree...

"Vali! He's armed!" Art calls!

Giving away that he has an accomplice, but at the same time, hopefully warning.

And Vali says "That's my house brother you're trying to shoot, you shit piece of night mare. No Code of Dagda for you." Art's efforts bought Vali time to take the longer way around and get the drop. It should be said, Vali still announces himself, perhaps the Code IS in play that trolls value, but there is no fairness in the size difference as Vali takes the oversized blade in his hand and pluges it through the goblin with all his impressive might. The goblin has little chance and winks out, leaving a comatose body down.

Art peeks out, his hair tousled and shirt covered with dry fall leaves. "Is it okay??" He calls with concern. "Are you okay?" Belatedly.

"It's dead, chimericaly speaking," Vali nods and looks.. pleased. He clearly hates Thallian, not atypical for House Beaumayn, "NO escheat applies to them, I could slit its damn throat,... and I'm okay, except.. I know nothing about bombs, and it looks like this one is ticking." He ponders and looks at the device strapped under the window.

"No, not the Goblin..." He moves over and cradles the book.

Then, his head jerks up. "Bomb?"

The book, having risked it's life for the cause... actually is intact, a bit a of dirt on it though! A spot of mud on a page corner!

He shoves the library book into a back pocket. "Maybe we can get Thistle out here?"

"Bomb," Vali jerks his thumb at the device with a steampunk timer and dynamite sticks. It's not typical, and Arthur knows enough nockers to know that it the harm will be more than physical to folks in the library. Alas the time doens't look like Thistle could make it in time.

He looks around frantically, is there an alleyway behind the library? There is a small trash can out here, but often they have a dumpster...

"I don't think there's time. I can try to put it in stasis, but No gaurentee that will work. " / As Arthur looks around , besides the smaller garbage can of plastic mentioned, there IS a dumpster a half block away. That looks much more sturdy.

Art bites his lip, but the bomb... it's a danger to people, it's a danger to the dreaming, and Da'an damnit, it's a danger to the LIBRARY! Without thinking to see if it's wise, he grabs the bomb and starts sprinting towards the dumpster, with it tucked under his arm like a football.

Luckily he's not as wimpy as he once had been, in large part to the Baroness insisting on him practicing calesthenics with Danica after noticing him panting on the stairs.

Were Thistle here, her breath might catch at the hunky sidhe wilder as he shows off his improved athleticism. One can easily imagine Nevers chiming to the tune of Chariots of Fire.... as Arthur sprints to the dumpster. The sidhe opens the dumpster and lobs the bomb in.... tick tick... and...

(Dex plus Athletics, you may spend WP)

(or Wits plus Athletics, sometimes timing is everything, your choice)

(Same either way, but he will spend WP)

/roll 4

It goes in, closes, and... EXPLODES! The lid bulges, but more importantly, the shrapnel is stopped, and so is the fell the fell magic that it was also set to unleash with it! Art has evaded being hurt, though his ears ring for a moment. However he can tell the glamour that was infused was anything but gentle and he is lucky to have avoided it. It was meant to erase or wipe away the words of ANY book that someone wanted banned, and in this day in age, that's a lot! Anybook others hated for diversity, or a different view point, or a mention of a subject they didn't like. Fiction would have definitely taken the worst of it, but in an age where some fail to see the wonder in science, it would have done harm to that and history too. Instead, the blast has been contained, and only the dumpster's contents affected.

Art falls backwards, covering his ears belatedly!

Then, a little unsteady at first, he draws his sword and heads back to the unconscious Thallain, a grim look on decision on his face.

Vali is moving towards him, saying something but it's hard to make out. The Thallian is in a coma, its fae soul 'dead' until it revives again, less strong. Even it's human form seems twisted by the Nightmare of the Fel black, human bodied sure, but it's not a healthy fusing like the changeling way, nor flat possession like Arcadian sidhe, it is the worst parts of nightmare and mortal patched together.

"... okay?" Can be heard from Vali now, as hearing returns.

Art walks toward the unconscious Thallain, sword in hand. His ears are still ringing from the blast, but he keeps his steps steady. The mortal shell is wrong in ways he can only recognize up close. Not a changeling, not a dreamer, not a human, something stitched together from nightmare and fear. There is no triumph in looking at it, only a tightening in his chest.

He swallows once, tightening his grip on the hilt. "I take no pleasure in this," he says quietly. His gaze stays fixed on the warped body. "But this rot cannot be allowed to spread. It must be excised before it harms more dreamers, before it tears more stories from the world." He takes a slow breath and steadies himself, then raises the blade.

Pausing, as the ringing in his ears dies down, and he gives a look to Vali, sword poised.

Vali nods draws his own blade "Would you like assistance?"

He hesitates, then shakes his head. "No." He says softly, "It was my decision, and I should follow through."

It is a clean stroke, unskilled, but not difficult on an unconscious foe. With a bit of willpower, he manages not to then retreat to the bushes to throw up.

A look up at Vali, bleak. "Can you help me put him in the dumpster? They should pick up soon, and it's as good as a resting place as he deserves. Better... there might be old books in there." Even as he wipes his sword on the edge of the dead thallain's clothes.

Vali helps him with it, nodding . The troll has reach and strength, and with a gesture turns the corpse icy, then drops it in the dumpster. There's a shattering sound, smaller chunks, harder to identify and the rats will... take care of it faster,

"Squire, you are a lot different from the scrawny easily overwhelmed fledge you used to be. " He says with respect.

He shifts his weight a bit, unsure if he likes that change. "Should we have questioned him? Perhaps I was... over hasty."

"Coulnd't have questioned him for a month after I killed him chimerically anyway. If you were hasty, so was I," Vali observes.

He wipes his hands on his shirt, though they are (visibly) clean, then wipes them again.

"Do you think he is related to the prophecy?" Doubtful.

"I don't think so, " Vali admits, "Nothing about him struck me as matching the visions."

The Grump considers "The cantrip it had pre set seemed ready to channel hatred or was going to. Did I read that right?"