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The small bear had given surprise just as he'd intended. What he didn't expect was a fireball to the face and the sudden dark blackness that followed. And so Gordok had a dream.
Things were looking bad but at least not that bad. Strangely enough the horrible defeat jars him back into consciousness. Smacking his blood encrusted lips our bear looks down the stairs and although his head is throbbing his strength is slowly returning. http://www.thegond.com/gff/dnd/dndodatbattle1.png Enough to crawl around. Enough to... http://www.thegond.com/gff/dnd/dndodatbattle2.png "MOTHER OF GOD" And so enemies were sent bashing into each other and even into the great minotaur statue who did enjoy inflicting great pain with what was left of itself and its great axe. http://www.thegond.com/gff/dnd/dndodatbattle3.png And Framarth was not without his own burdens. http://www.thegond.com/gff/dnd/dndodatbattle4.png Quite the flow of air indeed. Yes but how had Gordok survived? Reverting back to his true form the halfling backs away avoiding the gnoll in the corner and glances around. http://www.thegond.com/gff/dnd/dndodatbattle5.png G-Unit had sprung back into action! They had not fled after all. With renewed energy and a bit more faith that they might make it through this or at least give em hell Gordy powers up his last big spell. http://www.thegond.com/gff/dnd/dndodatbattle6.png "Anyone feel like barbecue tonight?" work and notes:
damages:
Gnasc total damage = 14+6+14 = 46 Spined Devil C total damage = 14+9+10+5 = 38 Gnoll Claw Fighter C total damage = 9+10 = 19 Framarth total damage = 6 PLUS 12 FROM FLAME TYRANNY RESET TIME MACHINE. |
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After a series of inexplicable events the smoke from Gordok's methane explosion clears, leaving a pile of corpses on the ground.
Gnoll B killed, Devil C killed, Gnasc killed Seeking to defend his halfling buddy, Glock hails the theurge and tries to think of something really clever to say about Gordok that will soften Framarth's heart toward the little fella. Sadly, when he opens his iron jaw only an odd little tune comes out. It's not very useful. Get the Flash Player to play this audio file: The last living duergar recruits charges toward Garrmondo and then he gets kind of tired so he just stands there a little bit. Just little breather, yeah. Whew! The spined devil decides spine time is over. No more spines. He's drawing the line. The spine line. Spines are fine, but don't cross the spine line. It's time for claws. Time for claw law. Move to B15 Return 0 altitude Claw Garrrmondo 21 damage Garrmondo tips over again Zerg wants to delay again The claw fighter darts nimbly past Garrmondo's prone form, seeking to punish the little halfling for permanently destroying his sense of smell. Gordok is punished most judiciously, and falls with a splut. A splut. :savepoint: Cal 19, Framarth 14, Glock 12, Gheth 7, Gordok (KO) 23, Garrmondo (KO) 6, Duergar Recruit 23, Spined Devil 19, Gnoll Claw Fighter 19, |
The clever halfling did something very disgusting and yet clever at the same time. It is quite unfortunate that he AND the human fighter would suffer the consequences. I fear they won't be getting up for the rest of the encounter, unless the clever halfling gets a Second Chance somehow. We will have to win this encounter, and pray that Framarth won't kill them with his Brimstone Hail. Indeed, I hope he won't want to incinerate his last remaining devil in the blast.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. I string up two arrows, draw them back as far as I can possibly manage, and let loose the two after taking the best aim as I can possibly manage. The arrows separate in midair, poking gaping holes in the tin man's jaunty hat, and each hitting an enemy to the left and right of him. The little furball is designated as my quarry, and the arrow pushes into it slightly more enthusiastically. The Devil won't get off easily either, its strength is sapped by the enchantment from my longbow. I then retreated yet again, like the coward I am. Better a living coward than a dead hero, I always say. Actually, scratch that. LEEEROYYYYYY JENKINNNNNNNNNNNNS! Designate Gnoll as my Quarry. Split the Tree on Gnoll and Devil. Higher result of 14 counts. Both AC 20 + 2 (cover) = 22, against 14+10 = 24. Both hit. Both take 2+7=9 HP damage. Fuck you, damage dice. Gnoll takes additional 4 HP damage due to hunter's quarry. Activate Poisoned Weapon on the Devil. It takes ongoing 5 poison damage and is weakened, save ends both. Move to H15. Screw stealth. A roll of 20-5 (for moving more than 2 squares) is not going to give me combat advantage. http://upload.jetsam.org/images//dnd-battle2-h.png |
Framarth groans in pain, his robes smoldering. Reflexively, he tries to get to his feet but it's as if a massive invisible hand were pinning him to the floor. Painstakingly, he tumbles about on the floor to try to get a view of the intruders that had done this to him. The insolent little halfling was already on the floor, like the musclebound oaf they'd been using for a doorstop. The theurge could just barely spot the glint of the metal man's armor around a corner, though...
He'd have to rain down hell on his own allies, but his vengeance was worth the price of a little blood. He was damned anyway. His hammer begins to glow red-hot, and he smashes it into the corridor wall with all his strength. Ceiling stones once again crack and tumble down on G-Unit, glowing ember-hot. This one's for all the marbles Brimstone Hail: +9 vs Reflex, Area Burst 2 Centered on C16 (Glock) 8 damage to Gordok, Gheth, Garr, Spined Devil, Duergar Recruit Recruit kilt daid Straining his arms, Framarth tries again to free himself from the floor's iron grip to no avail. :savepoint: Glock 12, Gheth 7, Gordok (KO) 23, Garrmondo (KO) 6, Spined Devil 19, Gnoll Claw Fighter 19, Cal 19, Framarth 14 |
REVISED TURN ORDER:
Skex, Me, Garr, Gordok. |
Gheth stood slack-jawed as the tiny bear stood up, only to unleash another of its...skills...upon an unsuspecting enemy.
What hadn't been pulverized by the gale-force fart was certainly going to have trouble recovering. G-unit was taking hits, and they were down, but not out. Now was the time to press their advantage. Sustain Spiritual Weapon Move: move weapon to Devil B (B15) Move: shift to C17 |
Did...nah. Couldn't be.
Glock could have sworn the bloody pulpy midget looked like a Morlock there for a second. Must just be his robotic ability to see alternate timelines. Gotta ignore that for a moment. Time was OF THE ESSENCE. There was a murderin' to do. But first. There is this god damn meatbag. He looks like shit. He looks like...mush. Oh, well, at least the mush still has a mouth. And some organs. Glock can see the organs. They are on the floor somewhat. Oh well, time to fix. The mouth is important after all. Fish around in Garr's purse for a potion. Pour potion DOWN HIS GULLET OK YOU, IT'S MURDERIN' TIME. SLAM THE SHIT OUT OF THIS DEVIL. LET'S ROCK AND ROLL. Stepping back, Glock realizes that there's a good chance that this will go somewhat incorrectly. This is always an issue with this group. Time to prep some ROCK A BEAT. Get the Flash Player to play this audio file: Shift to D16. AP TIME Ready Tune of Ice and Wind at B16. Trigger is the end of Garr's turn Table of Hits 7 + 2 = 9. Miss on Devil. 7 + 16 = 23. Hit on Gnoll. Table of Damagessssss 4 on Devil. 9 on Gnoll. Table of Shifts Garr: -A16 Gord: D18 Skex: B20 |
A chill wind issues from Glock's mystic songblade, and his allies are gently carried to safety even as his foes are buffeted by frigid gusts. The gnoll seems to be so exhausted that the cold alone is enough to sap the last of its will to live, and it slumps gently to the floor.
The spined devil is bereft of any useful orders what with his summoner busy flopping around on the floor like a beached trout, and instantly takes offense to Gheth trying to poke him with a flying knife. Didn't he hear that Claw Law was declared? Melee only, you camping asshole! The devil backs off, resolving to bring back the big guns until these noobs learned to play. Gnoll killed, Devil bloodied by ongoing poison. Reminder: Crack The Shell is a reliable power, so it's not checked off on a miss. Devil shifts backward to B14 Rain of Spines vs Gheth (+9 vs. Reflex) Claw Law is suspended temporarily 5 damage to Gheth; ongoing 5 poison/slowed, single save ends both :savepoint: Cal 19, Framarth 14, Gheth 7,Glock 12, Gordok (KO) 23, Garrmondo 6, Spined Devil 19 |
The Devil was retreating, like the weak, poisoned bastard he was. I wonder if he managed to shake them off. I hope not. And that it won't matter. I pursue my quarry at the expense of my personal safety, hoping to permanently incapacitate it from point blank range.
Move to B15, and designate Devil as Quarry. Twin Strike on Devil. AC 20, need 9+ to hit (less 10 + 1 - prime shot). Devil interrupts, inflicting much pain on Cal. Damage to be determined by Pang. Activate Yield Ground, shifting to B13, then continue Twin Strike as normal. +2 to all defenses until the end of my next turn. Damage: 10 + 2 + 5 + 2 + 8 = 27 HP. Devil killed. Turning my attention to the prone Framarth, I "Framarth, I am your long-lost daughter. Please don't kill my friends, daddy." Bluff Check: 10+13 = 23. Diplomacy Check: 2+4 = 6 Fine, he doesn't want to parlay, but he believes my lies! He won't do Wave of Despair against me, would he? :tpg: |
Framath glowered. The she-elf was mocking him.
"That doesn't even make anatomical sense", he mutters. He fires a blast of fire from his pact hammer and painstakingly crawls away around the corner to the south. He was severely outnumbered, but there was still a chance to reach Murkelmor. He'd show these bastards what for. 16 damage to Cal from Devil's AoO 8 damage to Cal from Firebolt (+9 vs Reflex), bloodied Start of Gheth's turn: 5 poison damage, bloodied And then he delays apparently :savepoint: Glock 12, Gheth 7, Gordok (KO) 23, Cal 19, Garrmondo 6, Framarth 14 |
Old man, you are NOT getting away that easily.
Double Run to A3. GO GO GADGET ROCKETSKATES. And with that, Glocks feet formed wheels, and a giant booster rocket emerged from his back. It took all his effort to control the great velocity with which he moved, but he managed to put himself down on the far side of the pool. "AHA. I SEE YOU LITTLE MAN." A little disoriented, Glock only has time to do one quick thing. Goggles of Aura Sight just for the hell of it. |
Gheth thinks about Framarth.
He thinks about him good. He decides he does not much care for Framarth. Not at all. When he is done thinking, he decides that he will stab him. With mind (Delay turn) Move to B18 I'm runnin' against the wind Sustain Spritiual Weapon on Framarth |
I stride after Framarth, and give him a long hard look.
"Oh daddy, how can you treat me so? Your loving daughter, Callie!" He's prone, +2 against ranged, but I have Prime Shot and Combat Advantage. Need rolls of 9+ for Twin Strike and 7+ for Careful Attack to hit. Move to A9. Framarth is my quarry. Twin Strike on the Bastard. 7 + 2 + 8 = 17 HP damage. "It hurts me when you do this!" Framarth has HP left If Garr hits with Shield Bash but rolls a 1 for damage, Glock will eat his hat. |
Garrmondo chuckles in satisfaction as the duergar mage is smashed into a fine paste between the wall and his shield. Back in the abandoned crypt, Gheth takes a moment to provide first aid to the battered halfling. After a moment or two the little fellow's eyes flutter open, and the cleric helps him get to his feet. He's in no shape for another fight, but at at least they won't have to carry him.
VICTORY! 2300 XP + 200 XP (minor quest) = 500 XP each Level Up! Cal sees an opportunity for further experimental surgery, but before he can even reach the devil corpses to retrieve their spines they begin to dissolve into a foul sludge. It hardly seems fair, depriving him of a trophy like that. Glock takes stock of the situation, making a quick body count and issuing a low whistle. Still, it'd been worth it in the end. He could only imagine how grateful some of these poor entrapped ladies might be. So very, very grateful. The prisoners were an odd bunch; in the northwest pit was the normal assortment of peasants — 5 humans, a halfling woman, and an androgynous person of indeterminate gender... probably a changeling, judging by the black unpupiled eyes. A red-bearded dwarf sulked near the center of the pit, steadfastly ignoring all the recent mayhem. Something about the fellow seemed awfully familiar to Glock, but he couldn't place it. The southeast pit, however, looked to contain no peasants at all. The five humans there were all clad in various forms of leather armor or mage robes, and in several cases seemed to still have weapons strapped to their backs. Most of it looked like pretty rudimentary gear, and the group hardly seemed like it would be a threat to the duergar, but leaving them armed was still pretty dumb in principle. The conversation among the group in the south pit was a sharp contrast to the excited chatter of the peasants: they were talking quietly amongst themselves in low tones, evidently trying to resolve some sort of disagreement. A bony little goblin, spectacularly ugly even by goblin standards, attempts to stealthily spy on the discussion; whenever he gets close enough to hear anything the redhead smacks him away with the back of her hand, and he retreats back to the corner for a few moments before trying again. |
Victory! Finally, after hours of fighting... wait, it took only half a minute, but it certainly felt like hours... we won!
Healing Surge to full. I eagerly saunter to the Spined Devil corpses to collect their excellent poisoning and slowing spines, but they dissolved into mush just as I reached the bodies. Curses! A pox on the World for denying me my well-earned body parts! Nevertheless, I have my list, which I shall complete before taking a rest: [ ] One Framarth heart [ ] Two gnoll claw fighter claws, for use as personal light daggers [ ] A pair of generative glands from Gnasc [ ] A gnoll fur cloak (as kindly suggested here) First things first, we no longer need chains on the door, they're a give-away to Murkelmor that something is up. I stealthily backtrack all the way back to the corridor, and remove them. I also examine the room containing Gorg's holding pen to pocket any items of interest. I am specifically looking for writing materials, and anything out of the ordinary, before hoofing it back. Stealth Check: 16 + 12 = 28 Silently remove chains, and search Gorg's room, specifically looking for writing materials and implements ________ I return bearing the chains, which I deposit at Cordok's feet. I go to the Dragonborn beside him, and give him my crossbow and bolts, plus the mundane warhammer, to ingratiate myself to him. Now he has a ranged option superior to simply throwing oversized chains around. Drop chains, and give crossbow + 10 bolts, and warhammer to Gheth. I need to do my dissections in peace, so I convince him to "check up on the welfare of the captives" in the room up yonder. I virtually push the giant lizard into the slave pit room, upon which I drag Framarth's mangled corpse back into the crypt, and line up all ten bodies on the ground. I carefully segregate any usable items that we can pass on to the peasants (such as warhammers and armor), so they can defend themselves. Then I start carving the bodies for biological loot to fit into my flask. I am quite confident the clever halfling will not mind all this gore. Surgery is hard work, so I take out three servings of rations and eat while cutting. I'm not at all being delicate with cutting, so it shouldn't take too long. Since properly skinning a gnoll may take a while, I hastily try to remove as much meat from the hide as possible. We'll worry about doing it right later. Eat three trail rations. Cal gains 2 pounds of weight. |
Glock sticks his head over the north pit.
"Hey dudes, what's up?" |
Gheth takes time out to tend to the fallen, making sure that the halfling is in stable condition before they move anywhere. Out of earshot of the other adventurers, Gheth mutters to himself as he works.
"Let's see...the ankle bone's connected to the shin bone, then shin bone's connected to the leg bone. What's next? Shit. I know it's gotta be important." After some trial and error, Gheth steps back from his work with a self-satisfied grin on his face. All things considered, it was a fine reconstructive surgery he had just done on a cold dungeon floor. Besides, it was probably only his imagination that the halfling seemed...shorter...than before. Sawbonesin' done, Gheth looks to his own health with a bit of poultice for the poison, and allows himself to be prodded into the other room to check up on the people next door. He takes a particular interest in the southern pit full of armed(?) slaves. He notes their situation and their weapons, letting them see him looking purposefully at the motley group. He raises what passes for an eyebrow among his kind at them. "So...come here often?" Surge to full testing the waters here, so Insight check on first response I get oh yeah, and retrieve morningstar when I have a chance, too |
Cal creeps all the way back to the corridor connecting Gorg's pen and the slave pits, quietly removing all the chains. Surely, the sight of a dozen butchered corpses would never clue Murkelmor in that intruders were afoot. It would take chains to do that. Their secrecy was assured. That done, he returns to the pits and takes an inventory of the spoils of battle. It was probably best to let the rest of the party handle dealing with the prisoners. Cal knew his demeanor could be a little... offputting.
The spoils were rich; both Gnasc and Framarth had been dumb enough to die with valuables on them. Loots! 7 warhammers 6 sets chainmail 1 set hide armor 3 sets leather armor 1 key 1 Potion Bandolier (containing 1 Potion Of Lifeshield) 1 Evil Eye Fetish 1 Master's Wand of Hellish Rebuke Glock peers down into the peasant pit, offering them a cautious greeting. Now that he's looking directly down into the pit, he can see why they made no attempt to escape during the fracas: every one of them is shackled to the floor. The group immediately explodes into a chorus of whining and pleading, but the dwarf finally breaks his stony silence. "ENOUGH! By Moradin's beard, you put a few good stone walls around these people and they just panic. Look here, automaton. Those are my hammers on the floor over there. It's undignified enough to be penned down here with these mewling pups, but I expected even the greys to have some basic respect for craftsmanship. Instead all my work is put in the hands of those... well, you saw how well their recruits handle themselves in a fight. Pathetic. That's what I get for trying to make a respectable living instead of gallivanting around picking fights like that damnfool cousin of mine, I suppose. If you're any of you good with a lockpick I'm sure these fools'll be all too grateful to you. Failing that, give me back one of my hammers. There's not a chain in the Realms that'll keep a Sledgehammer from his work." Gheth cautiously approaches the armed prisoners in the south pit, curious about their unusual state. The goblin is entirely too enthusiastic about explaining matters to him. "Hi hi! Me Gru. Me best and strongest of Bloodreavers! Me capture these stupids and take to Krand, and he say 'Gru, you stupid, why you not disarm!' and Gru say to him is no need to do so because they cooperate immediately! And this is a true fact that Gru is telling you: they ask Gru to take them to Krand! and Gru says okay because it is Gru's job to take people to Krand. Krand make sad face at Gru and tell Gru to take prisoners to the spinybeards and give them a letter and I did! And I said to prisoners: would you like to visit the spinybeards! And they are very pleased and say yes! And strongest spinybeard read the letter and laughed at Gru and then Gru locked down here with his own prisoners! Which is good. Gru keeps eye on them. They are very tricky prisoners for sure, spinybeards would never keep them under control without Gru help them. Gru is smartest, he take five prisoner without even fight them! Furry mean man hit Gru in face, but this only jealousy. Gru knows. Gru feel pity for his inferiors." The other five prisoners in the pit wince at Gru's telling, but after some corraboration the general story seems to be accurate. The five of them took up a bounty notice to rescue 12 prisoners captured from the nearby village of Riverdown, and in their enthusiasm rapidly found themselves likewise imprisoned. Gru "captured" them in the Seven-Pillared Hall, and they found the little goblin so laughable that they didn't stop to consider the significantly more dangerous situations he might be leading them into. The duergar troops so completely outclassed them that they were just tossed into the pit and ignored, the responsibility for guarding them left entirely to the devils. Their cheap weapons were no threat, and even the party's neophyte mage was coincidentally a specialist in fire spells (which the devils and duergar alike found slightly ticklish at worst). The fellow in the monk's hood asks for help, more than a little shamefaced. "Wilkes here can free us, now that picking the locks won't start the goblin screeching and earning us all a face full of quills. The real issue is money. We spent most of our collective savings on our gear and our wagon to get out here — this was supposed to be our first big job. Well, you see how that worked out. I guess we'll still be small-time for a while. We found some treasure here and there, but we can't sell it 'til we get home... and we can't get home until we sell it. I don't want to be presumptuous, but you fellows look like you're doing all right for yourselves... maybe there's something here you could take off our hands so we can get ourselves some horses and a hot meal." He unwraps a small bundle from within his pack. Within are a strange spiked gauntlet, a corked bottle full of a viscous red fluid, and an angular jet-black rod. Gheth rubs his eyes: the bottle almost seems to be slowly refilling with its contents as he watches. "We've done our research; these things are worth a pretty penny. I'll sell them to you for 50% of market value, and no less. I mean you no disrespect, but we'll just as soon hang on to these if we can't get some decent compensation." The redhead in the cloak (Wilkes, evidently) pulls a folding lockpick from behind her ear and sets to work. Instantly, Gru shrieks in dismay. "NOOOOOOO! MY PRISONERS! SOMEONE STOP—" Gru looks around the room in dismay. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" There's suddenly a loud hammering sound on the opposite side of the south wall, and an imperious shout carries all the way to the far end of the room where Glock stands. "I TOLD YOU TO SHUT THAT SIMPERING LITTLE MONSTER UP! YOU'VE GOT FIVE MINUTES TO FINISH UP YOUR BUSINESS WITH THE HOUNDS, FRAMARTH, OR I'M CARVING YOU UP AND SELLING YOUR BRAINS TO THE ILLITHIDS AS A DELICACY." |
I noticed an interesting collection of magical items on the corpses, but I paid them no heed. That grotesque eye on a necklace will go very poorly with my fashion sense - perhaps the lizard can use it though, since there's nothing around his neck that might conflict with this little accessory. *SHUDDER*
As for Gnasc's magic wand... well, I'm a martial man and know nothing about magic. Perhaps the clever halfling is intelligent enough to understand its ramifications. He might even get a kick out of starting fires. A belt of potions... intriguing, intriguing, but judging the rate which that brawny human drank through his potions, it's probably best reserved for him. It seems I must have made a mistake somewhere. I was certain Framarth was wielding a pact hammer. I must have put it along with the other warhammers. Or was I just imagining things? Curious. In any case, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I hear a piercing scream of "NOOOOO" emanate from the slave pit room. Sounds like someone's getting on with the captives. Why that horny warforged. How dare he molest the prisoners? Without me, I mean. I want in on that action! I turned to the apparently daydreaming halfling and loaded him with everything that I've found. "Here, Cordok. I managed to salvage these from the bodies. Be a dear and take these to the others. And arm the prisoners. We may yet need their help in our escape!" I returned to my half-skinned gnoll and resolve to finish skinning it in a few minutes. No time for finesse, Cal. Just whack out any large segment of flesh that's sticking to the hide. Wow, all this blood pouring out is making me thirsty. I take a long swig out of one of my waterskins, completely draining it. Refreshing! Completely empty 1x waterskin. |
Glock is fond of men named after tools. You don't even have to talk to them to know what sort of shit they're into.
"Ok boss, you hold that thought a second?" Walking over to the south pit and obviously winking at the armed fellows, Glock looks at the little Goblin. "Fuck, will you just SHUT UP? Don't you recognize a friend of Krand's when you see him? Look here. If you just be quiet, we'll get you out of here and everything will be ok. We'll even give you credit for the capture." Bluff on dat Goblin 4+14 = 18 Grabbing the key, Glock descends and unties to Goblin. "Come here a moment, will you? I have plans to discuss. Away from these...erm...prisoners." Glock takes the Goblin back into the crypt, near the...wait what the fuck was going on here. God damn it, Cal. "Uhh, yeah. Krand's into this shit man. Didn't he tell you? All sorts of stuff." "Anyway, this is what I wanted to discuss with you. Do you see these markings on the wall, here?" Glock points to the back wall of the crypt, on which nothing at all is written. When the Goblin proceeds to turn his back to him, Glock decapitates the little bastard. No more noise out of this asshole. Warsong Strike on dat Goblin 12+11 = 23 "FUCK these things are loud and annoying. If I didn't know better I'd have thought Cal got a new shape." Walking back to the south pit, Glock mentions that they can start undoing their locks, and he'll be there in a moment. As quick as a whistle, Glock proceeds to unlock all the slave shackles, and lets the second party know that he wants some of that stuff. Namingly the flask and the punching glove. When all is said and done, he glances to both groups. "Alright. Group meeting. Through the hall there you will find an idiot. And a horrible gutwrenching stench. And on top of that you'll also probably smell gnoll guts. Ignore the urge to vomit and turn to the right. Down there is a giant statue. You wait over there for a minute, yeah? You adventure dudes? Yeah, I'll pick up some of that stuff off you when we get there, a'ight?" He pulls Wilkes to the side. "Hey baby, you look....talented. Almost like you've got a little warforged in you." "What's that? You don't?" "...do you want to?" |
As Gheth takes stock of their new haul, he offers up the key that was found in the valuables, which will hopefully speed up the process of unlocking the prisoners considerably.
He also grabs the necklace. Maybe it would creep somebody out. You never knew. As Gheth begins hurriedly unlocking the lost adventurers, he looks at the elixir the Monk had offered up, and knows a good deal when he sees one. Nevertheless, he's never been a man to encourage opportunists. "We're about to keep this very large man busy while you get away. If he kills us before you make it, I can guarantee you'll be back here in no time flat. That said, we might be needing those items before the day is done. --Capisce?" Help unlock prisoners starting with adventurers Diplomacy check Oh my god, I'm diplomating with marbles in my mouth apparently |
GLIB LIMERICK SUPER POWERS ACTIVATE
Takin' dat 13, 'yo Glock takes the small crew of adventures off to the side of the room, out of earshot of the slaves. "Guys, I have an idea." "Do you want to punish the guys who put you in here? I know I do. They killed my friend." "I know how best to do this. If you guys create a distraction, we'll ambush and flank them from behind. Sound good to you?" "Thing is, as the distraction, you'll be doing the running, not the fighting." "If we're going to be taking the brunt of the attack, maybe we should have the gear. I'll uhhh...give it back to you as soon as we're done. We can wheel and deal at that point." "Thoughts on this?" Cal and Gordy murmur in agreement, but Garrmondo is busy scratching his ass and Gheth just throws up on the floor. Bluff the group. 13 + 14 = 27 + Cal's assist + Gord's assist = 31 "If you agree, let's go over the plan, ok?" |
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