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Sursqueek is becoming rather agitated over the situation and proceeds to take a deep breath and protest in his most excited and persuasive voice, which has all the excitement of a dead doornail.
"As my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grand uncle's cousin's sister's rabbit's former owner's mother-in-law's former brother once said:
'well it is possible for one to create a great and marvelously wordy speech in order to prolong life, as it promotes great lung strength and cardiovascular flow throughout the entirety of one's circulatory system from the extremeties of the capillaries, to the veins, to the arteries down, down, down, into the deepest dankest diseased ridden recesses of the most slimey, disgusting deranged, festering heart of a poli-' um...poli...er what was it I was saying?
Well at any rate, such as those which fluctuate in foreign trade and market I find it rather safe to say that for once in my very short life, in spite of all the things that have happened which have never done this before, even whilst gallivanting amoung the horrors of the death pits and learning of the great and mystic powers which should never again be unleashed upon this earth, even when the storm overtook me while at sea and a giant island of non-euclidean buildings (whatever that means) arose from the depths to meet me, I can say that at last for real and for certain, I am totally utterly speechless as to how on earth I managed to get a stone wedged into my ear in the middle of all this cacauphoney of unusual political and soapy intrigue only fit for a game or novel, which tends to make one believe that someone might indeed be playing games with our lives, as though we were nothing more than simple pawns amoungst a vast army spread across the world's largest and most unique chestboard of fate, a chess board that feels and lives and breaths like the very stars in the sky ready to swoop down and unveil the terrible truth that they have hidden for so many mellenia that only now the slann can truely divine the actuality for what it may be and ohhhh how I would fear the things they could tell us if it weren't for the fact that I AM so very speachless because for honost goodnes I still can't figure out the purpose of this rock being stuck in my ear like a beaver's dam blocking the beautiful waves of sound that flow from the mouth of all people everywhere that all most likely don't have to worry about so many things, like rocks in their ears that simply won't go away as a fish that has learned that how to simply nibble bait without actually biting the hook, you know the fish that as my Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grand uncle's cousin's sister's rabbit's former owner's mother-in-law's former brother once said:'...must be great and glutteonous in addition to the massive brain matter it possesses to be able to escape from so many skilled fisherman as we are fortunate to posess in these areas that have been warred over since my Great-great-great-great grandfather's uncle's mother's former left foot's owner's (for the poor, but pious dear had a fake leg you know from being in the war and all) kitten's great aunt's master's 2nd cousin twice removed if you count by marrage and 27 times removed if you don't's time when the sky was greyer the swamps were muckier and they walked uphill both ways in the bright smiling sunshine and across the barren desserts and deserts to find ways to get stones out of their ears', very much like the one in mine that is so very bothersome that I must tell you again, in case I happen to have forgotten to, is VERY dam like in that it blocks all incoming sounds reverberating through the air that I can't help, but wonder as to what sweet melodies the birds may be whispering outside my home right now as it is about time for the failed experiments to be thrown into the body heap out back of the kindergarden for the young to feast on and compete with the crows, which crow so very sweetly like hail on washboard and eat with all the grace of a ravenous rodent so very bent on consuming it's food that it fails to notice a cat behind it, which in turn eats the crow unless the cat is unfortunate enough to have a rock stuck in it's ear, very much like your humble narrrator here has and has been trying to remove for the entirety of this short gossip, which is so very short because, as i am sorry to inform you , I'm so very baffled as to the exact WAY in which this rock entered my ear that I am, hesitant to say, but will say none the less that I AM so very speechless!"

He pauses here to take a breather, and unless the DM states otherwise passes out from oxygen debt due to minimal breathing at comma pauses during his sentances.
(( all two to three of them.))

I think to myself, I figured he'd say something like that, but then it was worth a try...

Assuming Sursqueek is NOT next to me, Eria says under her breath, to the person chained next to her, "is he just trying to buy a few more seconds, or is he trying to bore the king to death?"

I'd also like to determine where abouts my familiar is at this point if possible...

I'll make a spot check up and down the line of chained men to see how the others are reacting to this predicament... or if they are all resigned to their fates...

Spot 13+1+14

and your right, I forgot both those spell were partially somatic... thanks for the reminder. (though I do have still spell, so up to a lvl 2 spell would still work)

(part of it is also that, as you are begining to notice, this is s kings court and several are flourishing talismans that would not quite be propper for those not involved with the arcane.)
The hobbit grins, mournfully.
"I'd ope so."

Each of you feel unbound and sitting in something soft. Since most individual's heavens or hells don't involve coushioned chairs, this seems odd. The sound of a man scribbling on a pad of paper is clear. There is no longer a stone in the skaven's ear. The room, if you open your eyes, is clearly a study with two doors. One door is held by two guards, the other is directly to your right. Each is appropriately labeled 'exit'. A man sits at the desk, the man infact being a dwarf... a familiar dwarf whom you might be disliking at the moment. You notice five others in chairs similar to yours. The writing continues.

((note: this is slightly picky, but technecally no one amoung you even know what a "Skaven" is, due to their underground Empire's only contacts in the outside world being skaven that have mastered the skills of the Ninja Assassin. At Best guess, unless DM says otherwise, even those of you whom have heard the mad rumors of an underground rat empire (which are few and far between according to warhammer) will simply dismiss me, and any other skaven for that matter, as a subclass of beastman...sorry if that was a little long winded...))

Surqueek searches his person, and assuming he finds his book, reattatches the chain on the binding to a metal ring on his belt. He then opens the book and begins reading the prewritten first half to himself.

Hopefully not out loud. The chain slips back with ease, and your reading is only disturbed by two breif sounds: a deal and a thud.

(Just in case on the off chance that the dwarf im currently mad at is not King Uthos, well than crap). "Hmmmm since we clearly have two viable options here, and of course we have already seen that door number one is lacking in appeal, i find the tile most unpleasent, if i do so say myself. May we inquire as to the appeals of door number two, and i resent being hanged by the way....It was quite cruel. May I expect compensation without having to go to the courts, or need i find myself a good lawyer, and a judge and jury to bribe?"