Argumentus is not a happy customer, no sir. He's tired, woozy, bloodied, and very much weakened from hunger. He could barely see as it is, with a combination of red haze, blood, and hunger clouding his eyes.

But his other senses are working overtime. Was that the sweet, sweet scent of prime beef? And were his comrades going to start eating before him?

He's not going to stand for that, no sirree. But he's not going to leave anyone behind hungry either.

"Come, let's go eat!" said Argumentus, as he moves into D11. He flings the dwarven companion on E12 over his shoulders. The fighter giddily sashays west towards the scent fo the sweet, sweet steak, all the while dragging the immobile dwarf at C12 behind him, with a hand strategically clamped on the latter's beard.

The dwarf he's carrying seems rather light. Perhaps it's just his adrenaline.

Arg heaves Motsognir over his shoulder, making for the exit. Or dinner. Probably one would lead to the other. Like that time he went through the door marked "Egress". It was actually a cockatrice in there, of course, and Arg suffered some heavy indigestion over the next week or so, but the principle holds.

Snapping out of his reverie (it really was a delicious cockatrice), Arg gently sets the paralyzed dwarf back down.

Tired and irritable, Gabe's patience runs out when the indecisive madwoman jostles him aside. Growling deep in his throat, the paladin lashes out with his shield arm and dashes Lissa's crossbow to the floor.

"But... but he set me on fire" she whimpers. "Okay, look. Hands are empty. Just gonna... go up the ladder, here. No hard feelings, okay? Okay."

Intimidate Successful
Gabe was dazed, figured the Intimidate was probably more important than the shift
Garrmondo stable this turn

Von Versteckt waves his tiny dagger at the reaper, but it just bounces harmlessly off the creature's bones. He tosses the knife to the floor in disgust and teleports halfway across the room.

"Gangway, plebes! My ladder! I bought it! I got dibs! Get out of my way and I won't even charge you a usage fee! That's right, gratis ladder usage. Can you beat that? I propose that you can— ow!"

The Reaper has no difficulty catching up with the gnome, slashing away at the tiny man's retreating back.

13 damage to VV

:savepoint: Motsognir, Bob, Lissa, Arg, Gabe, Garrmondo, Von Versteckt, Reaper

A combination of my terrifying magic and a grim stare from the ugly dwarf had made the crazy lady surrender and whilst I was tempted to carry on throwing spells at her, I was far more annoyed with the gnome who had so crushed my hopes of learning something more about necromancy. Springing to my feet again, I moved forward to get a clear shot before blasting off an ice ray.

We couldn't all retreat up the same ladder after all and whilst by anyone's standards we had received a proper kicking in this encounter, that didn't mean we had to leave without any loot, right? Had anyone asked later, I would of course have told them that I was covering our retreat in a most courageous fashion.

Stand up, move to F9, Ray of Frost at VV

Motsognir leans over the gay pirate's body and pours the healiing potion he'd been saving into his precious little mouth.

Hopefully his legs would work now. Karma and all that.

holy shit seriously I still can't walk

With a tiny, angry man fleeing toward him and a reaper close behind, Bob decides to slow down the parade before it runs him over.

9 damage to VV, slowed + bloodied

Sputtering and coughing, Garrmondo props himself up on one hand only to see the older dwarf staring at his own legs with a mixture of anger and contempt. Maybe the old fellow was coming down with the rheumatism. All these potions, and none of them had thought to bring along some Weretiger Balm.

Garr restored to consciousness, HP = 10

"Look!" says Lissa. "I'm helping." She fires off a bolt at the gnome, opening a raw, bloody furrow in his neck. "Seriously, don't set me on fire again."

9 damage to VV

:savepoint: Arg, Gabe, Garrmondo, Von Versteckt, Reaper, Motsognir, Bob, Lissa

Argumentus sees a piglet. A nice, plump little piglet. It will go nicely with yummy juicy steak.

He goes to the struggling piglet to restrain it. It wiggles too much, so Argumentus acts to squeeze it to death before he can have a happy roast.

Grab gnome, restrain in a crushing bear hug

The dwarf took a deep, steadying breath. He snarled low in his throat and swept himself out of the line of fire he felt he'd stumbled into against his will. A moment later he caught eyes with the gnome and promptly aimed to put his throwing hammer in the middle of his forehead. There was nothing but irritation in his blood. He's been battered, he's been beaten and he's been misused. Someone's time had come.

Shift southwest. Throwing hammer that sommbitch. Growl.

Sweet embraceable ham, why do you flee from Arg's loving arms? He only wants to kiss you. With tongue. And teeth.

Arg's speed is only 5 so even at a dead sprint he can't reach the gnome. Did what I could.

Gabe finally snaps out of his fugue, sputtering and spitting out a mouthful of sludge. When did that happen?

Garrmondo wobbles to his feet, taking aim at the frost-covered gnome. Should be an easy enough shot. Should be. Garrmondo was beginning to regret his last adventure. Sure, destroying The Temple Of One Thousand Mirrors was a profitable enough venture, but— well. It's not like nobody warned him.

Standing up is a move action (unless you're Bob)

The gnome continues creaking along, weighed down by a coat of ice. The reaper slashes away at him all the while. He won't get much further.

:savepoint: Motsognir, Bob, Lissa, Arg, Gabe, Garrmondo, Von Versteckt, Reaper
oh god would you please just kill it already

With the gnome now surrounded and slowed by the thin sheen of ice covering him, I was moderately confident he wouldn't get close enough to stab me any time soon so leaning on the wall next to me for support, I flicked another frost ray towards him. Whoever knew that gnomes could soak up so much punishment?

As the ray struck the gnome full in the face, I cursed the petty gods of luck for making my attacks so accurate and damaging now the fight had been effectively ended by divine intervention, rather than ten minutes ago when we were all about to die.

Ray of Frost on VV

Already reeling from Bob's last icy blast, Von Versteckt gets another icicle to the face. The gnome sneers hatefully, dropping to his knees.

"As ever", he wheezes. "I am failed not by my plans but by my subordinates. And by my weakness for tall, leggy brunettes."

He coughs, a bright spray of blood arcing out of his mouth onto the floor.

"I guess I won't be getting that promotion—"

He crumples face-down on the stones.

"Well now", mutters the Reaper. "That'll be that."

He hefts the gnome over his shoulder, preparing to spirit the body off to whatever evil lord he serves.

"I appreciate the opportunity, gentlemen. Still and all, I don't recommend you rely on me so much. Death comes to everyone sooner or later, and dodging it as you do attracts the attention of certain entities. Gods, mostly. Terribly hung up on all their rules and regulations, they are. Kelemvor in particular is very firm on the matter of— but I ramble. Next time, have the wisdom to flee for your lives before you're all bleeding to death, hmm?"

He plucks the gloves from the gnome's hands, tossing them to the floor. "You lot can have these. I've no use for them, and he won't be allowed to keep them where he's going anyway. No offense, but I hope I don't see you again for a while, hmm?"

He snaps his bony fingers and vanishes.

Eyes darting back and forth, Lissa darts for the ladder and scrambles up to the surface.

VICTORY! (sort of): 3050 XP (610 each)

I slumped to the floor, battered and bleeding.

After taking an extended moment to catch my breath, I sprung painfully to my feet again, noting how inappropriate these boots could be at times, and wandered over to investigate the gloves the Reaper had left for us. I also looked around for the mask the gnome had been wearing when he had been pretending to be a vampire.

Not wishing to have battled all the way through a tomb without doing some grave robbery, I then gave the room a thourough going over for treasure and secret compartments and shit, before moving to look into the room to the east.

Use all my remaining healing surges, check out the gloves and mask if it's still here, search for treasure, secret doors and anything else of value, look into eastern room

saving throw vs immobility

Motsognir starts crying.

Whilst searching the room, I couldn't help but notice that my dwarven chum had still not regained the use of his legs and seemed to be rather upset by this.

I paused in my treasure hunting and went over to the little trooper, gently patting him on the head before crouching down and attempting to massage some life back into his stumpy legs. His legs, whilst extremely hairy were also very soft and I made a mental note to try and find out what sort of moisturiser he used.

Motsognir tries his best to peek down his lady's magic robes as she massages him back to health. Realizing suddenly that the combination of soft hands and flat chests had him... at a moral disadvantage, he stumbles backwards from her. "I'm just going to go... stand in this corner for a minute, look for magic stuff."

The pretty dwarf seemed to recover the use of his legs rather quickly and almost immediately ran off into the corner, blushing, the big tease. Well, if he wanted to play hard to get that was his prerogative.

I continued looking my hunt for valuables, the dwarf could wait until we had finished up here.

Seeing that the big retard had finally crossed the line from handicapped to literal braindeath, and that he wouldn't make it out of the dungeon, Motsognir starts to loot Argumentus' living corpse.

Take and equip Iron Arm Bands of Power
Take and equip Belt of Vigor
Take and equip Helm of the Stubborn Mind
Take his rope, too.
And his waterskin.

Shameless.

The dwarf collapsed against a nearby wall and shook his head. He was not feeling especially chosen at the moment, and if he was to be honest about it, his faith in Kord has been shaken. He'd followed the edicts, defended the defenseless, and yet still his allies fell around him like wheat before the sickle. Hanging his head in disgust he tossed his shield to the ground and hefted his axe across his knees. He would struggle through this. He still lived, and as long as one of the party lived, it was not defeated. His moment of pity over, he turned to piety, offering a quiet prayer of thanks to Kord for his divine intervention in keeping him alive. It was the only possibility.

burn healing surges to full hp

Bob snatches the discarded gloves off the floor. Contrary to all conventional wisdom, it seemed that he had indeed been able to steal a gnome's lucky charms. How rare!

http://www.ddwiki.saxypunch.com/imag...ndergloves.png

He then wanders over to the discarded vampire disguise Von Versteckt had abandoned when his ruse fell through. While the voluminous robes are too large for anyone short of a half-orc to wear (and moth-eaten besides), the mask was another matter. While its golden glow was apparently another product of the hallucinatory mists, the iron mask is still intimidating enough in its own way.

http://www.ddwiki.saxypunch.com/imag.../Skullmask.png

With the obvious loot collected, Bob gives the room a good scouring. Anything in the sarcophagus? Nope, just some old dead guy. How about these other caskets? Nope, more bones. Maybe the statues have some inlaid gems, that's a fairly routine — feh.

Well, the tapestries should be worth a few coins if nothing else. Maybe he can grab them on the way out, they're a little awkward to carry around. In the meantime, what's in this east room?

A dusty tome lies open on a lectern, faintly.... humming? Bob quickly averts his eyes. This was a telltale sign of Explosive Runes. If he wanted to get that book, he'd have to disable the runes somehow — without looking at them. Risk to his own hide aside, such explosions tended to ruin the books themselves.

Bob's HP +18

Confused about his feelings, Soggy wanders off into the northwest corner of the room to "search for treasure" on the body of the dead farmhand. Remarkably enough, he finds some. Who gives magic equipment to a ghoul, honestly. It takes some unpleasant work to disentangle the apparatus from the moldering corpse, revealing the most convoluted farmer's tan in history.

http://www.ddwiki.saxypunch.com/imag...ackharness.png

Thus enriched, Soggy then helps himself to the vast majority of Argumentus' better gear. The big lunk appears not to notice — but then he appears not to notice much of anything. Seeing the delicious ham vanish before his eyes, spirited away by what seemed to be a cackling snowman; it was too much. It was all too much. Sister Tabitha's Home For The Utterly Dense was dull at the best of times but at least a man could get a decent meal. Maybe it would be best if he just stayed to tend this farm all the fighting was supposed to earn for them. Arg had heard that a man with a farm could, somehow, generate his own food from the earth itself. It seemed almost impossible, but he was willing to try.

For their parts, the paladin and the newcomer were content to merely sit back and tend to their wounds.

Garrmondo's HP +33
Gabriel's HP +33

I tossed the gloves to the pirate. Whilst they were nice enough, I figured we ought to show some gratitude for his help and I already had quite a few magic items I could only use one of per day as it was. The mask however I kept and put on with great excitement! Weird powers aside, this meant I coudl adopt a terrifying visage without the need for that insanely overpriced face paint! The trek to the countryside had not been a complete waste of time after all.

The book on the desk intrigued me. It was clearly magic and clearly had some power to it but it was also clearly rigged to explode. I considered my options...

I still had that book on enchantment transference but I wasn't sure if I was clever enough to understand it yet and even if I was, the chances of me having the correct reagents were slim and I didn't really fancy sitting in this crypt for several hours learning the ritual anyway and it probably wouldn't be any use for transferring runes out of a book.

I figured the best bet would probably be to just close the book, from a distance using my mage hand and work out how to disable the runes later.

Do a arcana skill check thing to see if Bob knows how to disable the runes here and now and how likely he'd be to blow his arm off trying it. If he's clueless, shut the book with Jedi mind tricks and carry it off for later, probably tied shut

Motsognir, happy with his new armor, saw to his wounds and climbed up the ladder.

Heal to full

Reasoning that he really didn't have time to sit around studying the book right now, Bob just shuts his eyes and flicks the book shut, tucking it carefully into his pack. He'll examine it more carefully later. Ideally, someplace where first aid is more rapidly available.

While Soggy has no particular use for the harness (especially since it would necessitate removing his hard-won (ahem) new belt. Still, some idiot merchant with more money than sense would surely take it off his hands later.

Seeing no reason to remain in the crypts when they'd accomplished what they'd come here to do, Motsognir and Garrmondo double-time it up the ladder and find themselves in the Hargast cemetery. The zombies were, predictably, now absent (since they were mostly lying around the inn in various states of mutilation) — but the open graves and ruptured caskets still remained. Somebody was going to have a hell of a mess to clean up.

Probably the townsfolk would have Ewan do it. He seemed like an easy sort to boss around.

Lissa greets them as they reach the top of the ladder.

"Listen, this may sound strange to you, but I — I wanted to thank you. I know you don't want to hear my life story, but I've spent the last year getting trapped in one bad situation after another. It's a shame it took so much killing to get loose, but there it is. Married at spearpoint to an ugly oaf, blackmailed into tending for his two rotten brats... and then the narcolepsy acts up and they bury me, so you can see why I —"

Lissa's eyes roll up in her head, and she tumbles face-first onto the grass, snoring.

Soggy's HP +27