A strange high-pitched scraping noise is heard

[The Death of Rats]

the easstern wall. Folk begin to search for it's source, but to no avail. It continues unabated, garting on the ears at almost a spirptial level.

 

Afetr many minutes pass, it stops. People shrug their shoulders, remark on it quizically, but let the moment pass.

 

...until a minute later, when the noise begins againl; in the same rhythm, same pitch, same eberythingf- excpet that it now seem s to have moved to the opposite end of the hall.

 

After al but one minute of the total elapsed time the frist scraping noisses has passed, it finaly clicks into place in someone's heasd that the rhythm, as well a sthe sound (slightly) reminds of them of the sound of sawing...even as the support columsn on that wall begin to creak ominously mere momnets before collapsing and rashing to the floor in a thunderign fury of stone, woodwork, and dust which takes tnhe entire wall with it.

 

Fortunately, only a wandering monk, a shadow puppet who had just been granted life by a very, VERY drunk blue fairy, a feral badger, and the Katzenjammer kids are killed.

 

the rest, inexplicably, only get a very, VERY irritating single speck of dust inb their eye.

Edited March 11, 2005 by The Death of Rats

[Yui-chan]

With rumors of falling walls and buried Pennites echoing through the Keep, Yui-chan rushes into the Cabaret room, broom in hand and Platinum Hand of Healing ready and waiting on the tip of her tongue. She stops in the doorway, watching a section of unsupported ceiling crack and sag, and glances down at the understated implement in her hand.

 

Shaking her head, she mutters, "I think this calls for a bigger broom. ... and maybe some spectral rat traps."

[Ayshela]

Ayshela rushes in from the Minstrel Hall, broom still in hand, and looks at the spectacular mess about the floor of the Cabaret. Rubbing dust from her eye, she looks at Yui and, with a shake of her head, begins sweeping up *here* as well.

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon shakes his head and rubs hard at a tearing eye, the speck of dust swept away by the tears produced. Shaking his head, he coughs on dust and squints as he rushes into the swirling dust, dancing aside as chunks of the ceiling rained down from above, looking for survivors of the horrible collapse of the wall.

[The Death of Rats]

A zombie, grayed flessh (as weell as misshing many chunnks of it) glassy eyed expression a nd all, dtressed in a frenmch maids unifoorm shamnbles and stumbleds its way inn throiugh the hole, awqkwardly shooving and floppping a broom about. as Gyrfalcon movess swiftly and geracefully aboiut the wteckage to excamine it, he noticesd veryu faamilar bloch of post it note afixed too its, uuh, blouse.

 

It reads:

 

_____________________________________________

Soorry bout that.

 

Sincerely,