Post
by waysoftheearth » Tue Jun 03, 2014 1:58 pm
It's the werewolves who prove quickest again, and three of them still hotly engaged versus Desmond/Mondes, Dorgan, and Beringar. The other two have vanished from sight.
Dorgan is still engaged with a wily foe, and the pair exchange a grueling series of attacks, dodges, blocks, and counter attacks that all amount to very little. Neither can catch a break, it seems. "I like ta gnaw Dwarf bones," taunts the werewolf, with a snarl.
Nearby Beringar is beset by his fierce foe, and beaten down to his knees his shield is dashed asunder and flies off his arm in splinters! Beringar the Bold will surely fall now!
Josiane (finding herself disengaged) begins uttering a prayer that will empower her sword (and someone else's) to harm these fiends as Wen closes on Desmond and his opponent. Desmond defends skillfully, and works his foe into position where Wen can crack it about the skull from the flank, creating exactly the diversion he needs to back flip over the wall, grasping for tree branches to slow his fall and he gets himself 1d6=2 2 hit points worth of scratching and bruising as he lands in an almost perfect crouch amid a cloud of leaves and dust.
Along the southern section of the wall Highbough vanishes from sight once more, as Armando loops his rope over a protruding stone and repels back over the wall, where he notes that Highbough has re-appeared--as if by magic--in the nearby treetops!
Beyond the bell tower Dieter raises his voice: "Fall back! Outside the wall! Move!" and Olaf and Torben heed his direction, scampering back toward the ropes and grapples to make a hasty exit over the wall. Ulric scampers out of the Tar Fiends sight, seeking shelter behind the bell tower, and almost collides with Olaf and Torben as they clamber down the ropes there.
Josiane is still standing openly on the wall, uttering her prayer as Dieter waves his shiny silver sword to reflect light at the tar beast's face; "Hey! Stinky!" he cries, "Shine your little light over here!"
Having lost sight of Ulric, the Tar Fiend's red gaze snaps back a forth a moment before locking onto Dieter. It lurches into a lumbering "run" directly toward Dieter and for a half moment he stares directly into death's blazing eye, and then throws himself madly aside as the scorching red beam issues out of the pall again, and another section of wall is blasted to smithereens as Dieter rolls clear.
Ulric's remaining conjuration, a wobbly old missile it seems, zips through the cloud and combat, back and forth without hitting anything, and at the last Josiane complete her Holy imprecation, and grins as she feels the zealousness of The Righteous Evangelist flow through her sword (and Wen's too!)
| Mechanics
Initiative is diced 1d6: Players=1, wolves=3, tar fiend=1.
Werewolves
W1 vs Desmond d20=8 @-4=4, miss, and entitles Desmond to a counterstrike.
W3 vs dorgan 1d20=5, miss.
W4 vs Beringar: 4d20=12,7,3,20! @-4 vs AC5, one hit. 1d6=6! It's a death blow, so Beringar's shield is smashed (he is alive but reduced to AC 7)
Players
Desmond is entitled to a counter strike vs W1 d20=10, miss.
Wen vs W1 1d20=18, hit, no damage,
Dorgan vs W3 1d20=13, miss.
Beringar has no reply vs W4.
Ulric's final magic-missile 1d20=1 miss.
Tar Fiend
Disintegrate vs. Dieter, Dieter saves vs. wands 1d20=14 (needed an 11).
Spells
An Josiane completes her enchantment uninterupted. |
---
Way down below, hidden in the bitter smog, Gustave is only vaguely aware of the shouting, and crushing foot falls, and general din of combat. It takes all his might to haul himself up to a crouch, and to drag his red eyes from the miserable strand of drool that is dangling from his lower lip. And into his bleary, stinging sight comes not one, but two, werewolves who emerge from the churning mist to casually consider his plight. The nearer of the pair--a powerfully built specimen--reaches over its shoulder and draws forth a viridian-bladed sword that crackles with a fey charge as it slides effortlessly into deadly poise. The point comes swiftly under Gustave's chin and lifts his head so that he cannot avoid the feral glare of the wolf-man.
"Hello pretty," it growls venomously.
[f=32]
Golgildir the Elf Medium (MV 12", AC 9, HD 1, hp 1/1, AL N) great cloak,
lantern; spells: color spray; scrolls: sleep, sleep, charm person
Hirelings: Georges;
torch[/f]
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