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His greed once again overriding his common sense, Cal takes an inventory of the "valuable goods" on and around the thawing duergar corpses.
Three smelly, waterlogged hide vests Three rusty hand-axes Three leather codpieces Three pair disintegrating breeches One string glass beads One iron helmet with bone horns, dwarven engraving around the band: "Lost A Bet". Glock looks around the chapel for something he can take back to the old sage as evidence. While little of value remains in the old chapel, Glock does spot a deep crack in the large statue of Baphomet — where the right arm meets the torso. If they could break the arm off and drag it back up to the surface, it might serve as proof — very few intelligent races have four fingers, and among them only the minotaurs are known as sculptors. Still, even the arm alone would be awfully heavy, although how heavy precisely is hard to say without breaking it off first. And then there's the question of how wise it is to go about vandalizing the shrines of demon lords in the first place. |
It was so disappointing. I examined the room hoping to find some loot and plunder, and all I could turn up were these trinkets. Rusty, mundane things by the look of it, even their pants are already rotting! But, why was there only one string of glass beads? This clearly warrants further examination, so I picked it up for further study.
The room seems to be thawing off now. Certain that it is safe to pick up that boiled duergar heart I threw on the ground, I do so carefully and stuff it back into the flask for safekeeping. It isn't often that one can find such a prime specimen. Why, back home in the Rhee, we regularly feasted on the hearts of our enemies. My daddy used to tell me that if we eat the heart of an especially strong enemy, we gain a bit of his strength. The humongous dwarf whose heart I carved was surely especially brave. Who knows? Maybe eating his heart will impart some of his courage. Yes, I will dine on it soon, when I get access to good cooking ingredients. Although, I fear I may have already tarried too long with this particular morsel. The tin man seems to be intent in vandalizing the shrine of that gigantic bull-headed monstrosity. I'm in no mood to trifle with such an ugly demon beast thingy, so I just go to the closed door and listen carefully for signs of enemy activity. We were not especially noisy here, so I'm pretty confident there's no enemy waiting to ambush us beyond the door. Still, one can't be too careful. Take glass beads. Carefully retrieve Rundarr's heart. Listen at door. |
Glock grabs and stashes what remains of the chains that tied up the elemental. They could possibly serve a future purpose.
yoink Glock always wanted to meet a demon lord. And Cal LOVES carrying around tonnes of useless shit for no reason, so the removal of the arm seems obvious. He looks at the rest of the party. The halfling would love a giant stone arm. He would ride it like a pony, and perhaps make it his new friend. The fighter would enjoy the needless destruction of it. And he was pretty sure the cleric would have no beef with the temple of an evil god getting it's shit wrecked. The....wait, what. Goldilocks and mysterious pants bulge over there might not be able to fence a giant arm, but fuck it would look impressive when he rolled into town with that. Imagine how many shopkeepers would want to deal with the man who showed up with a 10 tonne appendage. Imagine the dirty jokes the robot could make. Oh man. So yes. They will take the arm. LATER. After the thing who caused the death of Doorman is brought to justice. ONE TASK AT A TIME. Glock looks up and points to the crack. "YOUR DAYS ARE NUMBERED, GIANT ARM. WE SHALL RETURN." With the promise made, Glock turns his attention to the other door. Invigorated by his pledge to the huge stone limb, Glock moved Cal out of the way. "GET OUT OF THE WAY YOU PUSSY" He begins to bash on the door. "MR. GORBACHEV, OPEN THIS GATE." |
The tin man was actually going to do it! Mess with a Demon Lord statue. Such recklessness! Such chutzpah! He clearly has the guts in the party, figuratively speaking of course since Warforged would not possibly have any biological viscera. They don't eat or drink, after all, so there is no need for them to have any sort of a twenty-foot gastrointestinal tract to extract nutrients from food. Now I am hungry.
It is best that this Baphomet chap not realize who is the miscreant that is vandalizing his statue. So, while Clock was contemplating taking down the arm, I disguise him by putting the iron helmet on his head, completely squashing his pock-marked hat. A minotaur defaced your statue, Baphomet, not a warforged. Yes, we can certainly fool him good with it. What? He wasn't going to do it now? He's going to bash the door down instead? Bah. Let me show you how it's done, Clock! 2 + 2 = 4. Epic fail. I probably could have done that better. Note to self: next time don't run towards a locked door at full speed, on a slippery floor. |
Gheth was glad that their adventuring had given them an excuse to free the elemental. It bolstered his resolve to see these slavers out of the caverns, and his party's passage would serve as the best kind of insult to Baphomet if this temple were converted to that of another god.
Bracing himself with his spear, he also takes a kick at the door in front of them, hoping to bring it down before anyone's the wiser on the other side. |
Cal pulls the string of glass beads out of their... repository, and gingerly attempts to retrieve the juicy heart that he previously threw on the floor for no reason. Alas, the poorly-treated meat is in bad shape after being smashed into a floor, quickfrozen, and then quickthawed within a matter of minutes. Cal's fingers sluice through the heart like so much oatmeal. If he wants to put it back in his pack he's going to need a mop and bucket. It's just as well — the stink of rotting meat wouldn't do much for his elf disguise anyway.
Gathering near the north door, the three companions quickly combine their efforts to smash it down. Luckily the quickthaw has left the ancient door badly waterlogged, and Gheth's heavy boots smash through it without trouble. It's not long before the door is just a heap of wet splinters with another iron security bar lying atop. The door "opens" onto a largely empty corridor. A statue looms in an alcove at the far end — a skeletal minotaur in robes, wielding a greataxe. On the left side of the corridor is an iron door, heavily chained. To the right, the corridor looks to open onto either an alcove or a doorless room. |
Oh woe is me. My beautiful lovely heart is nothing but mush. I should never have suspected foul play! Alas, I thought the frozen duergar were actually undead minions of that ice elemental, and that they would have reacted to the prospect of delicious meat dangled in front of them. Never mind, I'll retrieve another heart from this Framath character once we kill him dead. The liver I plan to harvest from Murkelmor, as well as the gall bladder of those pain devils, should complement it nicely.
The northern door was no match for the combined strength of the 3 Cs. It opens into an eerily silent passageway with an absolutely frightening cow-man statue with a huge ax. There's no way I can lift that weapon, so I might as well scout ahead for danger. I look at the East opening, and make my way to the barred door at the west. Of course, I do this very stealthily indeed. Listen at the barred door, and if all is quiet, silently try to unlock it. 2+7=9 Definitely NOT the master of unlocking. Pfft. So I get the good roll on stealth: 15+12=27. Alas, my fingers are still too numb from the cold, and the chains resolutely refused to budge. |
The changething was pretty. Pretty bad at being a thief. Gordok will show
Mockingly creep up to that door, moonwalk if 25 on stealth roll Thief dat shit 24 stealth, 27 thievery Gordy struts on up to that door like it's nothing making not even a grain of sand scratch across the surface of the floor. This door. Its chains. They were coming off! Gather round boys and bring some greenbacks because it's time for a striptease. |
Gordok and Cal creep silently up to the chained doorway, and as the halfling smoothly disables the locks the ranger puts his ear to the door. Even before he gets within 5 feet of the door the noise from within is audible, but he moves in for a closer listen as Gordok smoothly pulls the chains aside.
The noise from within the room behind the iron door is a dull roar like that of a busy marketplace or a packed tavern — Cal makes out more than a dozen distinct voices, but there's simply too much chatter to pick out what each of them is saying. Two shrill, giggling voices rise above the general din. "Look at the little goblin, Marshk. He's glaring at us. Why do you think that is?" "You are entirely too concerned with questions of 'why', Durkkel. What we should ask ourselves is: how do we make it stop?" "If it had no eyes it would have to stop glaring I think!" "I knew you had potential, Durkkel. That's thinking outside the box!" A third voice breaks in, not precisely shouting but pointedly raising his voice to demand attention. Cal doesn't understand what's being said, but Gordok is close enough to translate the dwarven dialect on the fly before much has been missed. "—not mangle it. One more missing organ and you'll both be spending the rest of your days keeping company with that thing in the chapel." There is a brief chorus of hissing, but the discussion of prisoner mutilation seems to cease immediately. |
The clever halfling has disarmed the door lock like it's nothing. I covet those thief's tools in his possession, and make a mental note to requisition a set at the nearest opportunity.
With the door unlocked, we are good to storm the busy bazaar that seems to be going on. I turn to my other companions, and put a finger next to my lips to form the universal symbol of BE QUIET. I beckon at the macho human, noble dragonborn, and brash warforged to come help do the shock and awe. We have an opportunity to surprise the enemy, and we will do well to take full advantage of this. I tiptoe back a smidgen. Being a squishy ranged striker, I'm not well-suited to front line combat, and feel safer when behind some cannon fodder. |
Giggling, huh. Those demons the guard spoke about.
Well, this would be an entrance to the slave pits then, if the unfortunate dwarf torso was to be believed. He didn't seem to lie, and Glock recalls he gave a different entrance to the place earlier. The last time they engaged in meaningful slaughter, little bitches ran away. And they had to suffer through a terrible plan full of tables and bridge assaults to appease some sort of cowardly Jim Cramer. None of that. He has an idea. "Dudes, wait just a moment." He grabs the changling and returns to this point. "Ok. So the, uh, 'missing' guard mentioned the north doors here led to the slave pits. The other guys seem to be there too, but from a different entrance. The cleric mentioned voices from the east. We don't need more people fucking about here if we can avoid it." Glock motioned to the north door. "You're the sneakiest one amongst us. Take these chains, and chain that door shut. The last thing we need is a failed contingency plan." ------------- Cal takes the chain and slowly and quietly uses it to lock the north door. He returns to the left entrance where the robot stands. STEALTHIN 20, horray! ------------- The pair proceed back to where the rest of the party is, beyond the chapel. He readies himself for the breach action. And grab the other chains Zerg mentioned below. Yeah. Good idea. |
The warforged grabs me (gush!) and takes me to a place I haven't seen before. A place that is absolutely teeming with enemies. How scary and exciting at the same time! Oh, it looks like he's brought some chains along. At first I thought he was feeling randy and trying to tempt fate in the midst of danger, but then I realized he wanted me to chain the door shut. Well, so I did so sneakily, making sure the chains are good and tight.
We return to the room beyond the chapel, without the chains. Well, Clock can always get some more chains from the door the clever halfling unlocked. |
As Garrmondo strides up to the door, Gordok continues overhearing the loud dwarf within — speaking in Common now, oddly.
"It's not just to inconvenience you that we've sent for you a day early, Gnasc. There's been a major breakdown in security here and frankly I have my doubts that we'll still be here tomorrow, let alone your merchandise. The sooner we close this deal so we can all get to someplace more secure, the better, I think you'll—" Garrmondo unceremoniously kicks the door in, opening a short corridor that leads into the slave pits proper. From this vantage he can't see the whole of the room. There's a pit, perhaps 20' deep, partly filled with water; to the west of that is a similar pit (this one seemingly dry) in which 8 humanoids mill around anxiously. Mostly human, though some are too short to be anything other than dwarves or halflings. On either side of the slave pen, gaunt creatures covered in spikes prowl around on all fours. As Garrmondo kicks in the door, one of the devils whirls around and issues a piercing screech. To the south, beyond Garrmondo's line of sight, what sounds like a brace of hounds starts up an awful baying. "Quiet, you idiots!" snarls a low, growling voice. "As for you, Framarth: we will add these bleeding-hearts to our take, we will pay you half what I originally agreed on for the rest, and your entire clan will vacate Thunderspire before I kill what few of you the orcs have left!" Also Garrmondo glances at the room to the east but it's just an empty crypt with nothing in it so he ignores it. Several dwarven voices raise in a battle cry, tromping toward G-Unit's position. DEFENSES Framarth: AC 20; Fortitude 17, Reflex 18, Will 17 Gnasc: AC 21; Fortitude 18, Reflex 19, Will 18 Gnoll Claw Fighters: AC 20; Fortitude 18, Reflex 16, Will 15 Spined Devils: AC 20; Fortitude 18, Refl ex 16, Will 16 Duergar Recruits: AC 20; Fortitude 17, Reflex 14, Will 15 Peasants: Extremely squishy I remembered this time! :savepoint: Gordok 23, Gnoll Claw Fighters 19, Spined Devils 19, Cal 19, Gnasc 14, Framarth 14, Glock 12, Gheth 7, Garrmondo 6, Duergar Recruits 23 |
Spined devils, gnolls, more duergar, maybe another theurge, and PEASANTS in the next room and he was stuck in a hallway . Gordok is trying to think of a tighter situation.
http://www.thegond.com/gff/dnd/dungeonnobouken.jpg Oh, bad mental image right there. Gordy decides to chill in the back and wait for something to appear in the hallway to blast. Maybe he'll get lucky and get to hit on a spined devil. Move to B19 Ready Eldritch Blast against anything that moves into B9 |
Oh my, I can see a Devil where I stand! It flies ten feet into the air, and it's coming closer! Mustn't let it see me, lest it outrages my modesty. I take cover behind a pillar as it blasts poor Garrmondo till he's bloodied. In retaliation, I go on my tippy-toes, lean at a very steep angle, and fire off two arrows at the little imp, hoping to bloody it.
The nearest Devil is my Quarry. Move to A18 Two-Fanged Strike: +10 vs AC20 (attack rolls 10+ will hit) Damage: 10+7 (Attack 1) + 1+7 (Attack 2) + 5 (Lethal Quarry) + 2 (Wisdom Modifier) = 32 damage to that thing. http://upload.jetsam.org/images/dnd-battle2-b.png Assumptions: Helga has 64 HP (now down to 43 HP). I assume Framarth is on steroids and has twice that amount. The rest we haven't encountered before, so I put Gorg's HP (220, now down to 147) as the upper limit. |
Gnasc's gnollish bodyguards hurl themselves toward the intruders at top speed — but that isn't saying much.
The spined devils unfurl ragged wings and launch themselves into the air, hovering 10 feet above the floor. The nearest devil launches a fusillade of spines from its flesh into the corridor, hoping to disable the heavily-armored fighter before he could even enter the melee. Garrmondo (already somewhat battered) catches several spines in the neck and reels backwards. 15 damage to Garrmondo; bloodied The ceiling is 20 feet up in this room since I remember someone being curious about ceilings at some point. Cal ducks cautiously into an alcove, firing off two quick shots at the nearest devil before ducking back into cover. The ranger hears both shots thump solidly into their target, and as the spined devil's blood begins to noisily drip into the water below it, he can barely suppress a smirk. Spined Devil A bloodied. A gnoll in hide armor trudges into view from the south, clothed in the bloodstained hides and bone ornaments of a tribal shaman. This must be Gnasc. He drags a heavy cudgel behind him, festooned with what look like teeth. The gnoll draws something small from his belt and points it in the direction of the corridor, but nothing happens. He growls in irritation, but keeps the device trained on G-Unit all the same. Ready action: Hellish Rebuke on anyone who enters B-13 The duergar voice that probably belongs to the theurge Framarth seems to move around the chamber, but the theurge never enters G-Unit's line of sight. :savepoint: Glock 12, Gheth 7, Garrmondo 6, Duergar Recruits 23, Gordok 23, Gnoll Claw Fighters 19, Spined Devils 19, Cal 19, Gnasc 14, Framarth 14 |
Robots do not appreciate having to burn heals this early in fights, but resigns to the fact that they need a quality meat shield if they're going to get anywhere.
Rubbing a bit of healing salve all over his hand, Glock backhands the fighter across the face. He stumbles forward a tiny bit, but looks slightly refreshed. "Dumbass. What did we tell you? I'm not doing this again." Majestic Word on Garr 16 HP regained for Garr. Slide Fighter to B15. God damn it. With the armour monkey slightly repaired, the robot continues to take cover behind him, only to pop his head out and yell down the hallway. "HEY DEMON. FUCK YOU." Move to B16 Vicious Mockery on flying faggot A. He is ignored. :( |
Gheth becomes suddenly aware of how few options he has when confronted with multiple attackers at range. He resorts to throwing things.
"Back, you devils!" Move to B14 Drop spear Equip Morningstar for throwing Attack Spined Devil A (8 damage) |
The duergar recruits run! They run real fast! They get shot at!
That's about it! Oops! Achievement unlocked: Cal :savepoint: Gordok 23, Gnoll Claw Fighters 19, Spined Devils 19, Cal 19, Gnasc 14, Framarth 14, Glock 12, Gheth 7, Garrmondo 6, Duergar Recruits 23 |
And here they come piling down the hallway. Gordok remains in position and fires off another eldritch blast
Warlock's Curse Eldritch Blast duergar recruit at B12 1 + 4 + 4 + 6 = 15 damage |
Gnasc's gnollish cohorts charge into the chokepoint, but Gheth manages to hold back their slashing claws for the time being. The spined devils hover in formation, lowering their altitude to 5 feet and raining a fusillade of spines down upon G-Unit's front line. Maybe lining everyone up in front of several cannons wasn't the best offensive strategy, especially with Garrmondo waving a bow around instead of keeping his shield up.
24 damage to Glock (bloodied); 5 recurring poison damage and slowed (single save ends both) 16 damage to Garrmondo (bloodied) :savepoint: Cal 19, Gnasc 14, Framarth 14, Glock 12, Gheth 7, Garrmondo 6, Duergar Recruits 23, Gordok 23, Gnoll Claw Fighters 19, Spined Devils 19 |
Monster after monster rush into the corridor! Thankfully, the clever halfling dropped two ugly dwarves in quick fashion, adding to his impressive rack of kills. Oh how I bemoan my lack of kills and achievements, although anyone can plainly see I am the most bloodthirsty coward in the entire party!
The spined devils launch another cannonade of poisonous spines at the robot and the human, bloodying them both. Is it my imagination, or has the whole world suddenly conspired to strengthen our enemies? I feel vulnerable in this position, what with several animal things running up with their sharp claws. The good thing is, they're all bunched up - the dragon might be able to get many of them with his magic breath. The bad thing is, I'm still quite delicate and would fall easily to their terrible attacks. And that's not discounting the area attacks of that theurge, who we cannot see yet. I truly hope Gnasc, Framarth, three gnolls, three devils, and three duergar recruits are what we're facing against, though I fear there may be more of those ugly gray dwarves. Well, I'm not taking any of that crap this time. I sink into a stance taught to me by a rednecked ranger by the name of Denilucas. Yes, we spent many days practicing this move in his isolated cabin up in the boondocks of Eberron. He's no longer around, unfortunately, having suffocated in his sleep due to his overly long beard. I no longer remember the finer elements of the technique, having not used it for quite some time - a pity, since it lets me opportunistically attack any creature within 25 feet that moves closer. What I know is a diluted variant which I pray will be sufficient. I only hope my allies can help me maximize the use of this stance. Exchange move for minor and activate Spitting Cobra Stance. Once per round, any enemy within five squares away from me that moves or shifts closer immediately gets an arrow up its ass. Twin Strike on Devil A with -2 penalty to hit: Second arrow hits (17 - 2 + 10 = 25 beats AC 20) Devil takes 8+2+5 = 15 damage Use minor action to A stray thought entered my head. Perhaps we may no longer be able to parlay with Framarth and his ilk, but maybe Gnasc might be a reasonable sort. What do I know about gnolls and their strengths and weaknesses in general, and their susceptibility to bluff or diplomacy in particular? http://upload.jetsam.org/images//dnd-battle2-c.png |
The enemy is tearing holes through G-Unit's ranks. Cal racks his brains for anything he knows about his gnollish adversaries, hoping to perhaps bargain with them. What he remembers isn't encouraging.
Holy crap does Cal know a lot about gnolls (Nature Check 21): Grimacing, he leans around the corner and fires. One of his arrows flies directly into the nearest devil's laughing maw, and the creatures falls heavily to the floor. The captured peasants murmur in awe as the devil's body melts into a caustic sludge, its evil spirit banished back to the hells to climb the ranks all over again. Yup, killed. (They have 46 HP, Zerg) Cal draws a bead on the nearest gnoll as Gheth holds it back. He'd been looking for a new fur cloak. Gnasc snarls as his idiotic underlings pack themselves into the narrow passageway. What good are greater numbers if you can't surround the enemy? These pups know nothing of tactics, let alone tradition. He strides to the far end of the corridor, watching the godservant throw himself stupidly into harm's way even when someone weaker could be sacrificed instead. They always did that! God-worship was always too complicated for Gnasc to understand. So many complicated rules. Demons were straightforward; they mostly wanted you to kill things. He levels the object in his hand in Gheth's direction: he's close enough now to identify it as a wand. "The Destroyer sends his greetings, reptile." A roiling blast of fire leaps over the heads of the claw fighters, slamming into Gheth's chest and splashing him with flames. Hellish Rebuke: 10 damage to Gheth Framarth just mutters irritably and circles around the pool. He could just barely spot the halfling capering around at the far end of the corridor. The midget thought he was safe back there, did he? Not quite. Framarth slams his warhammer into the floor, and a rumble goes through the fortress. Rocks begin to fall from the ceiling over Gordok's head, pelting him and his nearby allies and smashing them to the floor. Cal dodges reflexively, miraculously avoiding all the falling debris. Brimstone Hail centered on B18 13 damage to Glock, Gordok (both knocked prone) Cal activates Gambler's Suit: reroll misses him Start of Glock's turn: 5 poison damage :savepoint: Glock 12, Gheth 7, Garrmondo 6, Duergar Recruits 23, Gordok 23, Gnoll Claw Fighters 19, Spined Devils 19, Cal 19, Gnasc 14, Framarth 14 |
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