Guild of Martyrs

You jump over a piece of meat with expert reflexes. Roll spot and a second reflex.

You make a beautiful jump clean over the second piece of meat. You seem to be making excellent progress down the conveyor belt. Reflex again.

This time you land in the piece of meat, and topple backwards.
...
About two feet. Where you land in Fatrick Stewarts' arms, and are auto-grappled. She takes a bite out of you.

Damage(+4)

Trollface carried out 1 launched of one d4 :

3

I attempt to get out of her grasp and stay awake from her.

Zak carried out 1 launched of one d20 :

16

+8

You squirm free and get to the other end of the room.
It occurs to you that, given the short distance you fell, you probably did not get very far along the conveyor belt.

I take out my daggers, putting away my bow and jump back on the conveyor belt to try again.

*Sighs* Roll grapple, reflex and stupid.

Grapple(+5)

Trollface carried out 1 launched of one d20 :

18

You trip over a piece of meat on the ground and land in her arms, stabbing yourself in the leg with both your daggers. Then she bites you. Roll Control Shape.

Bite(+4)

Trollface carried out 1 launched of one d4 :

1

Daggers

Trollface carried out 2 launched of one d4 :

1 , 4

I roll out of her arms and get the fuck out of there.

Zak carried out 1 launched of one d20 :

9

+8 grapple

You escape from her arms again, then stop to roll Control Shape like I told you to. =P

I decide that maybe I should start with the entrance lounge place and go there.

You enter the room. You already know what it looks like, and I am too lazy to copy/paste it. Which, as it turns out, is rather appropriate.

I walk towards the guy in the chair. "I'm fairly certain you have something for me" I say I say to him, acknowledging that I am a little bit psychic.

You aren't at all psychic, but regardless he hands you the letter and key without a word.

I read the note and figure out the code. "Okay. So what's your problem?" I ask him.

The man shrugs.

'Sloth?"

The man doesn't really seem to care. You hear the unmistakeable sound of him soiling himself.

I sigh. "Yep, Sloth. Okay, come on, let's get you cleaned up" i say as I grab the chair and tip it up, to force him out of it.

He rolls onto the floor, where he lies, making a pathetic attempt to reach for the chair.

I grab him by the shoulders and lift him up. "We gotta get you walking, don't you know sitting around on your ass all day is bad for you? ...Why do I feel like a hypocrite all of a sudden?"