Doorman attempts to wriggle free from the troll's crushing grasp, but to no avail. Realizing that his last moments may be at hand, he tries to give what information he can to his few surviving allies.

Sadly nothing much comes out but gurgling sounds. It might have been better to ask him about strategic matters before sending him off on a suicidal fool's errand. C'est la vie!

Safely hidden behind the bulky troll, the scout fires on Garrmondo with impunity.

11 damage to Garrmondo

:savepoint: Gheth 13, Cal 11, Gordok 10, Ortak 8, Glock 4, Garrmondo 3, Gorg 25, Doorman 19, Duergar Scout 13

Cal's still feeling a little dazed from the fall, and the increasingly disturbing noise he's hearing behind him (an orc used as an improvised club??) convinces him that he should sit this out. At least until after the dancing pink tarrasques go away. Let the rest handle it till then. Pretty sure they'll survive.

Delay turn till after Glock.

http://upload.jetsam.org/images/battlea15.png
Little arrow thing indicates whose turn it is when the chart was updated.

Oh, it might not be Gordok's most favorite time of day after all. It was time to get out of a sticky situation. It was time to slick things up a bit.

Wild Shape slimy salamander
Wild Shape halfling, shift to AA -6
Eldritch Blast Ortak

After plopping to the floor Gordy reforms himself and sends some crucially evil energy at his former captor for 26 damage.

Sensing somewhat of a theme in the vicinity of the duergar guard, Gheth is happy to oblige with his particular brand of party trick as the rest of Glock's plan plays out.

Watch and amaze as I saw this slaver in half! he muses.
Gheth allows himself a grim chuckle.

In a case of hubris trumping good sense, his giggling spell causes him to whiff the air.

Move to AA -3
Righteous Brand on Ortak

Swearing a vile oath as the slippery halfling escapes his grasp, Ortak flicks his chin in a gesture of contempt. The poisonous quills that fired out thereafter were more of an afterthought. Still, Gordok's larger friends react poorly to the rude gesture, swiftly slashing him to bloody ribbons.

Quills: INTERRUPTED
Ortak gets curbstomped mercilessly
Gheth's AoO was a crit in case anybody has anything that trigs on that
Ha haaaa I forgot the beard attack was Ranged =(

:savepoint: Glock 4, Cal 3, Garrmondo 3, Gorg 25, Doorman 19, Duergar Scout 13, Gheth 13, Gordok 10

Out of the corner of his ocular sockets, Glock witnesses the witch's man-slave explode into chunks with a simple spear stab to the face. That really didn't make any god damn sense at all, but he'll run with it. Hell, why not?

HOW ODD.

Anyway, Glock needed FIRE. Fire on the troll. fine. How's this gonna do. He'd have to haul ass to accomplish this in the few seconds he's got, but it should work.

Move to Y-1

Glock glances into the fireplace and grabs the log that seems like it'll burn the longest, and has a decent flame on it.

Grimacing because even being steel doesn't prevent you from feeling the heat, he grabs the log and fucking books it.

Grab nice sized, nice burning log that will remain on fire for some time yet. Lob log onto bridge at AC-4 in one quick motion.
6 fire damage. 5 mitigates by temp HP, 1 damage to real HP.

"OW. FUCK. HOT HOT HOT"

Glancing out to the bridge, Glock looks at the face planted...squishy person.

"You, Odo. Bring the rain."

Even though it stung, Glock pitches the log in a soft underhand motion that won't move to put the flame out.

"Alright boys, here's your fire source, let's light this bitch up".

The burning log, which thudded dangerously close to his position, jarred Cal out of his daze. "Secret Orc! You should careful where you aims! You almost am hit poor coward orc!"

Springing onto his feet, the changeling exposes a couple of his precious arrows to the flame before letting loose at the troll. Very quietly, of course. Gorg hates the noisy, it seems.

Alas, the arrows' aerodynamics were altered by flame. The first flaming arrow clatters uselessly to the ground right in front of Gorg, the second barely gave him an ear piercing. It's just a flesh wound.

Stand from prone. Hunter's Quarry on the nearest enemy I can see (Gorg).

Twin Strike: first attack misses, second attack hits for 2+2+6=10hp damage.

http://upload.jetsam.org/images//battlea18.png

Cal'Amah is filled with remorse, as he watches poor Doorman orc meet his demise in a kiss with the Dragonborn. It's all his fault -- if only he didn't try to attempt troll diplomacy!

Summoning up his singing abilities, Cal loudly sings an elegy based on a drinking song that he's heard many times before. He sang quite in tune, considering the fact that he was no bard.

Get the Flash Player to play this audio file:
Doorman Orc. Hero, friend!
Bravely fought to the end.
Oh how sadly we watched,
As he slumped, prone and bleeding.

With broad heart and bright soul,
Help to all he would lend.
From a distance we bawled,
As he finally stopped breathing.

Tragedy was his lot,
For the fight that he fought,
Was noble and true,
But survive, he would not.

Oh say does our blood-splattered orc friend yet wave,
In the orcish heavenland, resting place of the brave?

Wielding the makeshift bludgeon that he'd made out of the doorman, Gorg tromps down the corridor and makes a wild swing at the halfling. As the little itsy-bitsy tiny little man dodges easily, he switches focus to the lizard hiding around the corner. Gorg only regrets that he cannot yet reach the archer on the bridge, who is being noisy again.

"Do it", the orc mutters. "Do it. Know this, you only killing an orc."

Doorman turns his forlorn gaze on Glock.

"Goodbye Secret Orc. I die like true blue rebel. No waste time mourning. Organize."

Without warning, the limp form of a mailed orc comes whipping around the corner at Gheth, soundly denting his snout. The doorman issues a ragged cough and goes limp, and the troll drops him to the floor like a dirty rag.

Improvised Weapon at Gordok, miss
Burn AP
Switch targets to Gheth because I am on to Skills' tricks
23 damage (bloodied) to Gheth from getting face-orked
Doorman suffers half-damage from the collision, killing him

Smirking smugly, the scout follows closely behind the troll and plugs Gordok with another bolt.

11 damage to Gordok (bloodied)

:savepoint: Gheth 13, Gordok 10, Glock 4, Cal 3, Garrmondo 3, Gorg 25, Duergar Scout 13

Gheth poked his nose out, scanning for threats, only to receive the hurled body of their newly found orc friend into his waiting arms. Unfortunately one of the orc's knives happened to land on his leg when doing so, gouging a path through his thigh. That would most certainly leave a mark.

The mangled orc bid them well, and gasped his last, dying in Gheth's arms before he could even stabilize the poor man. Doorman's death hit Gheth harder than he expected, for he found he was grinding his teeth, and he clenched his spear with a ferocity he had not known was in him until this point.
So be it. He thought. To the death.

In a flash, energy undulated outward from Gheth, giving the party renewed confidence and renewed caution. His fury aside, they would not be caught so unaware for the rest of this fight, and Gheth aimed to make sure that would not happen.

Activate dragonborn fury
Shield of Faith on all. AC +2
Move to AC -5 Move to X -3 Move to AC -5
Remove cloth tunic and tie around blade end of spear

Glock whistles he works. It passes the time, for the most part. "Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it's off to work we go" seemed to have the desired effect of causing the troll to miss the midget. Musta been the amount of times he's heard that since living here, what with being amongst all these dwarves.

The force of the miss caused the troll to stagger slightly, even as he swung GLOCK'S BEST FRIEND EVER into the face of GLOCK'S OTHER BEST FRIEND EVER.

Virtue of Cunning as an free action
Gordok to AB-5
Advantage of Cunning
Troll to Z-6 through AA-5
I assume troll reach is 2, and therefore Skex is still hit. Correct me if wrong.

Rest of turn to come in order~

Gorg playfully swipes at Gordok. Oh what fun!

"Good Gorg! Gordok like Gorg. Gordok play hide and destroy with Gorg so Gorg go corner and count to potato!"

Giggling to himself Gordok cleverly disguises himself as a small fuzzy bear as Gorg spins around and pushes Gorg to his counting spot.

Warlock's Curse Gorg
Tiny bear mode
Savage Rend Gorg, shift Gorg over to Z -7

The small shove is enough (11 damage total) and puts Gorg into his place. Making sure the game was properly afoot Gordok the bear growls out a warning.

"Gorg! No peaking!"

Glock looks up just in time to see the halfling do the unthinkable.

"A b-b-b-b....b-b-b-b-b....BEAR?"

The memories of the secret room from less than a day ago come flooding back. No amount of new friends or wanton violence can cleanse the mind of such atrocities.

Glock lets loose with a blood curdling scream of fear and agony.

For some reason, the bear seems to enjoy the tormented wails. He even dances to them a little bit.

Majestic Word
Gordok regains 16 HP. Slide Gordy to AA-5.

Calming down shortly after, Glock can still see the troll's arm and left leg. Good enough.

THE GOGGLES, THEY MUST DO SOMETHING.

Goggles of Aura Sight on Gorg.
Fuck yeah these things are the greatest. <3

Glock stops for a second. Wait a minute, can trolls even count?

"HEY ASSHOLE. EIGHTEEN. FOURTY SEVEN. THREE. TWENTY ONE. NINETY FIVE. SIXTY FOUR. FOUR HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND EIGHTY TWO."

Glock hopes he throws off the troll's slow counting with his loud numerical vocalizations.

Vicious Mockery on Gorg
12 + 7 = 19 > 18. Hit.
1 [ffffffffffffff] + 5 = 6 Damage.
Gorg takes -2 to hit penalty until I'm up again.

Cal's enraged at the cavalier way Gorg treated the poor orc. Doorman deserved better than a kiss of death with a giant lizard, dammit! That troll must pay.

I've been monitoring HP. Doorman had 12 HP, and took half damage from a 23-hp attack. That technically leaves him with 1 HP. But according to Pang, it seems Garr's firebomb attack, being an area attack, hit him for 2 HP damage. C'est la vie :(

Summoning up all the righteous indignation he could muster, the chameleon starts to shout a war poem at the top of his voice, attempting to demoralize the enemy while strengthening his allies. He recites the first eight verses. Maybe if everyone lives through the next round, he can recite eight more. He's got lots more stanzas where it came from.



While screaming his voice coarse, Cal repositions slightly. His allies have backed the troll into a corner, and so Cal adjusts accordingly. He handily leaps over the burning log, and takes cover behind a wall. Then he lets the troll have it.

Alas, he choked at the last verse. In a coughing fit, Cal prematurely lets go of the arrows, where they promptly struck the wall behind Gorg. Cal's ballad will have to wait.

The Troll's grab attempt against the human appears to have snuffed out the burning arrows, and so the two arrows laid on the floor, miraculously unharmed.


Move to AB-3.
Ignite arrows.
Twin Strike on Gorg with flaming arrows. Both 10+4 vs 20-2-2 [14 vs 16], both miss.

http://upload.jetsam.org/images//battlea20.png

Justification of HP: Glock's scan (damage of 41 HP) was done before the Troll took 6 HP damage from Glock, 7 HP damage from Garr, and regenerated by 10 HP (for net damage of 3 HP), bringing total damage to 44 HP.

Glock leans around the corner, pulling down the goggles to view the troll's statistical data. Sadly the lenses were still smeared with the vile miscellany of slimes and molds that results from any impressive dwarven belch, and attempting to wipe it off only seemed to make things blurrier. Luckily the text readout was safely behind the exterior shield but in his desperate cleaning attempts Glock had accidentally flipped the switch returning it to factory defaults. The Gemtech Z-78 Scan-A-Baddie was never really intended for this sort of intensive wetwork.

http://www.saxypunch.com/missile/GemtechZ78.png

Cal, in an impressive feat of not getting the hint, continues making a lot of pointless noise.

"WHY YOU MAKE NOISE?! SHINY MAN, YOU GO MAKE QUIET."

Gorg picks up Garrmondo in a scaly paw and begins to rear back like a stickball pitcher, but the fighter manages to kick his way free, tumbling back to the floor with little harm save for his dignity.

Nobody burned him last round, so 10 HP regenerated
Choke and Throw: miss

Rolling his eyes as the massive troll is backed into a corner by a simple ruse, the scout backpedals down the corridor and tries at least to put the tiny bear down for the count.

Crossbow: 9 damage to Gordok

:savepoint: Gheth 13, Gordok 10, Glock 4, Cal 3, Garrmondo 3, Gorg 25, Duergar Scout 13
Calling in yet more reinforcements would be pushing it, I guess :(

Embers from the fire log lilted through the air, creating a fine haze through which Gheth now viewed his enemy. Gheth breathed hard, recovering from his stab wound and using a bit of his tunic to tie off the bleeding. He seethed at having been the instrument of Doorman's destruction. Through his lingering pain, a gleam came to his eye as he realized just what else his tunic could be used for. Now, he vowed, would come a hard vengeance, and bereft of mercy.

Second wind
Light up improvised flaming spear
Move to Z -6

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear.

Fuzzy Wuzzy has some hair.

But Fuzzy Wuzzy was not a fan of being shot in this evil lair.

So Fuzzy Wuzzy showed his claws....

Bear to U-4.
Savage Rend on Scout
Dog fucker

...but the Scout wasn't so scared by Fuzzy Wuzzy, was he?

Glock steps out of the doorway and follows the bear. Even though the last time he followed a bear into a room he was scarred for life, robotic curiosity just plain old gets the better of him.

Move to X-4

The bear doesn't attack the crossbowmandwarf, and instead seems to be playing around. FLIRTING, EVEN.

This could be a prelude to a sexual encounter. Shit shit shit shit shit shit.

Glock quickly yells out to the Scout and tells him everything he knows about the secret bear mating rituals.

Vicious Mockery on Scout
Hit.
5+4 = 9 Damage.
-2 to hit penalty on the scout.

The dwarf is HORRIFIED. The expression on his face is one of terror and....is that....arousal?

All the colour drains out of Glock's steel face, (somehow made possible by MAGIC, I'm sure) as he realizes what he may have just precipitated.

The troll meant to hurt him! Cal! Poor harmless squishy Cal!

Fortunately, the war song he just sang distracted the troll badly enough that the human warrior was able to escape. Ironic, really. Cal meant for the song to resonate badly with Derik, the last remaining wildcard in the mix. If it enraged the duergar enough to attack them blindly, then nobody would be running off to alert the other defenders of the castle.

Certain that he was doing the right thing, Cal continues to sing:

His body slowly yielded to
A fate that's inevitable
He crumpled to a frumpy heap
Right at the yonder dining hall.

The duergar champion swiftly fell
Defeated rather easily
And now our motley crew has come
To loot your treasures, set slaves free.

What in blazes was that? He didn't even hear himself speak. Not even a whisper emerged from his obviously strained vocal cords.

Oh, do you know how Rundarr spent
The last few moments he had left?
I took a knife, plucked out his eyes
It was hard work; I had no heft.

Yon halfling druid carved his guts,
And fend on his small intestine.
The man plucked out some poisoned quills,
From dying Rundarr's bloody chin.

That attempt was even weaker than the rest. Why, even the fire crackling at Helga's den of iniquity was louder than this pathetic chant!

One last time!

The horny warforged pistoned in
And out of Rundarr's orifice.
He was a blur, that robot cur,
Ten thousand strokes, no hole he missed.

The Dragonborn was more reserved,
He muttered prayers for his soul.
The tortures we unleashed on Rundarr,
Soon took their horrific toll.

His dying words we did not hear
Since we cut off his vocal cords.
To silence the ear-splitting screams
That punctuated all his words.

When Rundarr died, t'was then we spied,
A trinket wedged below his knee.
It took five chops to free the loot,
His muscle mass was tough, you see.

We poked his corpse with arrowheads,
And soaked them with his poisoned bile.
Off to the cooking pot he went
Our Rundarr stew took quite a while.

If Cal was breathing loudly, it would have been louder than this. Alas, his psychological warfare was not meant to be. His lack of bardic training was his downfall - for Cal has punched a hole through his own vocal cords in between his hacking coughs at the previous turn!

The shapeshifter half-heartedly fires a volley towards Gorg, and dejected walks towards Helga's brothel in a stupor. Bumping violently against the wall, Cal hardly noticed as the cotton dress he appropriated earlier fell out of his pack, and settled on the ground with a thump.

Still, Cal keeps walking until he was facing the fireplace. Woe betide a changeling who loses his golden voice and silver tongue, for he loses the one thing that keeps him alive - the singular ability to bluff and charm his way past the obstacles in life. Well sure, you can still polymorph and don disguises, but you won't go anywhere by just miming. Cal stares at the crackling flame, and wonders how it would be like to be the firewood that's burning oh so ever brightly. Would it hurt?

Flavor text aside, Cal, for all intents and purposes, was quiet as a mouse :)

Twin Strike on Gorg with improvised fire arrows.
First roll: 3 + 10 vs 20. Miss.
Second roll: 19 + 10 vs 20. Hit.
Gorg takes 9+5+2=16 damage in total.

Retrieve Peasant Tunic from pack, and drop it on AB-3.
Move to Y-1.

http://upload.jetsam.org/images//battlea21.png

Scout bloodied by Mockery

Turning his back on the bizarre bestial matchmaking Glock was evidently attempting to enable, Garrmondo quickly smashes his shield into the troll's face. The monster's head is smashed against the northwest wall with a satisfying crunch, and the troll briefly staggers and falls on its scaly arse. It gets back up almost immediately, not that this really helps it.

In no mood to try his luck with the berserk lizard waving a flaming spear around, Gorg tries to grab hold of Garrmondo and fling him out of the way. Sadly, another quick move of the shield arm leaves the troll with nothing but a handful of bruised fingertips.

Cal burned 'im: no regen this round
Stand up from prone
Claw on Garrmondo: miss

"NOISY MAN SO NOISY, HE USE UP ALL NOISE ALLOWANCE FOR HE WHOLE LIFE", Gorg chortles, though only Gordok can make any sense of his bellowing. "NOW HE NOT MAKE ANY MORE NOISE FOREVER!"

Gorg looks troubled for a long moment.

"WELL. GORG CAN DREAM."

Repelled by the horrible tale of bear necessities Glock is telling, the scout backpedals away and fires another bolt at the little animal as quickly as his shaking hands will allow. "Stay back! Sit! Stay!"

11 damage to Gordok; bloodied

:savepoint: Gheth 13, Gordok 10, Glock 4, Cal 3, Garrmondo 3, Gorg 25, Duergar Scout 13

Gheth makes several quick experimental thrusts of his spear towards the Troll's eyes, making the Troll distracted and off balance when Garrmondo steps inside its reach and manages to bludgeon it with his shield. He dances back before the Troll's counter-swipe can reach him, and Gheth sees an opening he can exploit. His grip falters, however, and the blade skitters across the troll's tough hide.



Righteous Brand on Troll (miss)
Well that was anticlimactic

Going Before Acer in the turn order~

"Ok buddy, you can do this. Don't worry. It's not the same bear you saw. This one's cute. Cuddly. He's your friend. Remember? No harm will come of this."

Trying to convince himself it'll be ok, Glock disables his mechanical eyeballs for a moment and slowly walks up past the bear.

Emerging safely on the other side, the lights on his face reignite, and he feels like a much bigger, better roboman for overcoming his fears.

"EYE OF THE TIGER. YEAH. WHOOO."

Move to T-4

He hadn't gotten such an adrenaline rush like this since he base jumped off of a post office into a pile of homeless elves, and as such Glock's enthusiasm leads to him casually stabbing the annoying ranged shootin' dwarf RIGHT IN THE MOUTH.

"SURPRISE NIGGA"

War Song Strike
lmao, critical.
8 + 5 + 8 = 21 Damage. Huzzah.
If scout is still alive, Acer gets 1 HP (:() if he hits it after this. 1 HP my asshole. Totally switching this move when I get the chance.

Even with that wound, the scout spoke. He had not yet seen the robot engage anything with the stabby stabby. In fact, NO ONE HAD.

"So what type of combat training do you have?"

Glock smirked. "Fencing."