Delic reaches out and grabs Garrmondo's collar firmly. Making like he's about to kick him in the ass and through the door, he pauses and waits to see what Glock does.

At the very least, Garrmondo will make a good battering ram.

Bluff successful

"VERY WELL! HUMAN, GO FORTH AND FETCH ME MY SNACKS."

A timid, haggard-looking young woman trudges through the wide doors of the dining hall, and startles upon realizing that Glock is obviously not a legitimate part of the kitchen staff. Still, she has no real motivation to care if Rundarr's dinner is tampered with, she quickly snatches the plate away and delivers it to the duergar.

Judging from the noisy (and faintly disgusting) chewing sounds, Rundarr seems happy with his snack. There's no evidence that he's actually at all bothered by the poison Glock doused his food in. Perhaps the fellow simply has a hearty constitution.

Did you forget dwarves are poison-resistant

You did, didn't you

"Fuck."

Glock doesn't look amused. He should have just wiped the midget's scrotum on the ham instead. It probably would have made the meat more foul, and the halfling would probably enjoy it.

"Oh well, ok big bashy dudes. You go first. Last time I went first I got fucking barfed on every 7 seconds. It wasn't entirely pleasant."

Glock urges the party to sort of go through the south door in some sort of logical order, but only after they kick it in first. Delic seemed to have the right idea. Garr's face would make a good method of entry.

Garrmondo kicks in the door, issuing a ferocious challenge to the complaining duergar.

For his part, Rundarr looks at the fighter in the same sort of gentle, pitying way you might look at a ferocious kitten who is mercilessly attacking your shins. For a long moment he finishes chewing the bite of sandwich in his mouth, then wipes his face with his sleeve. He's fairly tall by duergar standards, and standing upon the table he makes for an imposing presence.

You ain't even intimidating the sandwich, dogg

"I'm not cryin' over a sandwich, lad. It was a pretty good sandwich all told. Spicy, though. Here, look now. I'm tryin' to eat, so why don't you just hand over your friend in the iron mask there. We take care of him, and the orcs will have lost their little figurehead. That'll solve a lot of problems right there, and I won't have to get your filthy topsider blood all over my nice clean dining hall. Otherwise—"

A second duergar, presumably the one who had been the other half of the earlier conversation, stands ready with his hand on a rope which leads up to a rather large dinner bell on the ceiling.

"We can make this a nice big party, if that's how you want to play it. Me, I'm a busy man."

Rundarr picks up a massive warhammer he'd left leaning against the table, swinging it idly through the air like it weighed no more than a broom.

"MY BELL! MY BELL! MY BELL!", squeaks Gordok the rat!

Having indulged himself heavily in cheese heaven it was time to work off some of that smelly goodness, and so off he goes scrambling frantically (yet somehow retaining stealth) towards the second duergar and leaping onto the pull rope. Climbing it steadily he makes his way up to the large desired bell, and with much glee Gordy begins to gnaw through the supports that keep the bell in place.

Skittering Sneak

"You haven't thought this one through, have you? Turning me into a martyr will only reinvigorate the workforce. You think you have a problem now? Were you there for the great strike of 1183 in the Underdark? I was. One worker got killed by a guard, and then the entire union rose up and slaughtered every single businessman, business woman, and businessdwarf in three provinces. Even travelling merchants and their families were torn limb from limb."

"You fuck up, and my orc friends won't be done with your shedwarf until she's the barely alive receptical of at least 15 of their orc dicks, and then the'll finish her off by feeding her to some spiders. From what my friends tell me, that's not a pleasant way to go."

Assist Acer's stealth check by throwing out vivid images of an orc gangbang on some female dwarf as a distraction

Gheth waves his arms about in the air, enunciating STRANGE SYLLABLES to distract the two from noticing the huge-ass rat running up the rope.

"I daresay, SIR that it would only take ONE of us to PUT you out of BUSiness. Just ONE of US to get to the surFACE and the ETHICS COMMITTEE would have your HEAD."

Aid in stealth check
make fool of oneself: check

"Hey you. Little guy. Ever try a fastball special?"

Stealth Check: 12 + 2 + 2 = enough

Assuming mouse form, Gordok leaps onto the nearest table and scrambles up the rope. Instantly, the rest of the party frantically launches into noisy oratory, shouting and waving their arms to distract the duergar from the tiny rodent making its way up toward the bell. Gordok successfully gets up there unnoticed, only to discover that his tiny mouse teeth would take forever to make even a dent in the iron ring that holds the bell on the ceiling. Maybe he could make some other use of the high ground, but this little mouse wasn't gnawing through anything.

As per the last line of Skittering Sneak's effect line, natch

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" shouts Rundarr, still apparently interested in a peaceful resolution.

"One at a time!

You, tin man. Nobody wants to martyr you. If I wanted you KILLED, we wouldn't still be talking! D'yer think puffy-sleeves with the big mouth is going to protect you? Besides, what does some rabble-rousing orc in a mask know about the 1183 crackdown? That was three centuries ago. I only know what I know from my own grandsire, and orcs aren't much for history. Don't try to bluff with me numbers you saw in a broadsheet somewhere, greenskin.

You, lizard. The only ethics I'm interested in are my own and those of Asmodeus, and it turns out we're both of the same mind on the whole slaves-and-cruelty thing. What a shock that was, really.

As for you, loudmouth, there's been not a single living minotaur under Thunderspire for centuries now. The Well of Demons is full of gnolls and worse. But — just to humor you for a moment here, you want me to pay you, essentially, to put down the riot that you yourselves just started. Is that right?"

Rundarr begins to glower at the group with what is, if possible, an entirely new level of contempt.

Gordok had let the wonderfully vivid metallic flavor of the iron ring get the best of him. Coming out of his delirium he understands too well that his rodent teeth are no match against such a tasty obstacle. Slowly a halfling emerges carefully holding steady his place above the large bell. Perhaps his sharp climbing claws could work their stuff on the ring of iron to free his ringing beauty. Here's hoping that subtle hint of rust his tongue detected wasn't just his imagination. Gordy begins his work over the squabble below hoping that the huffy business will keep eyes and ears from wandering towards the heavens.

Gordok slashes frantically at the ring affixing the bell to the ceiling. While his artificial claws aren't nearly sharp enough to cut the rusty iron ring, the sudden shift from a mouse's weight to a heavily-burdened halfling is enough to make the ring totally inadequate for defying the bell's own gravity. The bell rips free of the ceiling, falling heavily to the floor in a shower of stone fragments — and carrying Gordok with it. The hapless guard assigned to hold the bell rope intuits his fate a little too slowly, and the bell neatly captures him underneath—

Whereupon the duergar begins frantically ringing the bell from within. The noise is loud enough to bring the whole stronghold running, at the very least. This plan could have used some more thought. Several pairs of boots can be audibly heard rushing toward the dining hall from the north.

Garrmondo is the first to react, being quite prepared for this little palaver eventually breaking down.

Rundarr AC 19 Fortitude 20, Reflex 16, Will 18
Duergar Guards AC 21 Fortitude 18, Reflex 15, Will 16
Duergar Scouts AC 19 Fortitude 17, Reflex 17, Will 16

:savepoint: Garrmondo, Delic, Duergar Scouts, Rundarr, Glock, Gordok, Gheth, Duergar Guards

Delic has an idea.

Oh does he ever have an idea.

Moves to T10

It had been a rough landing but ultimately he had his bell where he wanted it. As a bonus he had even captured the rope tender; how very nicely he rang the bell from within. Sitting atop his trophy Gordok smiles and pulls out his lute to strum along loudly with his bell. Yes, such achievements called for celebration! The hall would know of the splendor of this bell. Great yellow exploding bells for everybody!

"IT'S MY BELL! IT'S MY BELL! IT'S MY BELLLLLLLL!!!!"

Pyrotechnics

Garrmondo rushes to block the northwest doorway, but reinforcements are already barreling through. A bewildered-looking duergar charges through the door, smashing headlong into the fighter. Garrmondo doesn't budge an inch.

Rundarr leaps down from his table, charging across the room only to leap onto the table nearest to Gordok. "You rotten guttersnipe, that were my grandsire's bell! I'll break a bone for every crack you've put in it!"

Swearing profusely, he smacks the living tarnation out of the little halfling. Badly beaten, Gordok slumps awkwardly over the top of the bell.

Double Attack + Action Point + Double Attack = 35 damage to Gordok (knocked right the fuck out)
Been a while since I had a KO on you suckas
feels good man

:savepoint: Glock, Gordok (KO), Gheth, Duergar Guards, Garrmondo, Delic, Duergar Scouts, Rundarr

Ah the festival was a wonderful one. Everyone was laughing and singing the praises of Gordok's new bell as the wild yellow explosions happily filled the air. Just then the Grimace popped out of the ground and gave everyone free happy meals and a pass to the land of Gummydrop fairies. This was a fine day indeed.

Glock watches the big dwarf miss with the second half of his first attack, which is more than enough time for him to wiggle his robot fingers and move the midget ever so slightly between the dwarf's actions.

Virtue of Cunning
Shift Acer to S8 after getting his first beating. Horray free actions!
Sorry Pang, I still <3. At least you get your AP back right?

Pressing a button on his goggles, Glock soon sees everything in red and black, and sees a short flash of white outlining the hammer asshole's skeleton.

"I NEED YOUR CLOTHES, YOUR BOOTS, AND YOUR MOTORCYCLE"

Goggles of Aura Sight on Rundarr

Stepping back a little, Glock looks at the giant hammer dude and thinks of something clever to say.

Coming up with nothing, all he yells is "I farted on your sandwich."

He has no idea if that annoyed the dwarf any.

Move to W15
Vicious Mockery on Rundarr
11 + 7 = 18. Dunno what his Will is. :(
If I hit, 6 + 5 =11 damage and takes -2 to hit until my next turn.

http://www.thegond.com/gff/dnd/gordo...rimaceahug.jpg

They all had entered the magical kingdom when the king of the Gummydrop fairies proposed a most wonderful blessing to bestow upon them that whoever had the most love would receive his powers to turn happy thoughts into floating candy. To do so would require a most joyous embrace to the Grimace whose bounding bright presence filled the throne room with rainbows and sunshine. And just as everyone cheered on Glock to give the bestest of hugs that would be told in tales till time ended and reversed in the silliest slow motion trudge to an eventual void, Gordok awoke.

Gordok was confused. His body felt battered like it never had before. Where had the celebration and good times gone? Why wasn't Glock hugging the Grimace? Where in the hell was the Grimace?! This pissed off duergar certainly wasn't him. So that must mean that it was all a... no. Gordok refused to believe it had all been a lie. He would find his way back to the kingdom of Gummydrop fairies, but for now there was the matter of these duergar to take care of.

Move to W7
Second Wind
Warlock's Curse @Rundarr
Action Point - Diabolic Grasp @Rundarr

13 damage to Rundarr. Drag his ass on over to T11.

The munchkin was cackling madly and yammering on about some kind of magical hug. He was clearly delusional. Gheth took this opportunity to perform some field medicine. He gave him a once-over glance and called out--

"Quickly! Open your mouth and say 'Blurghhlglrhhl!'"
"...No, your other one! Ah, five hells, do I have to do it myself?"

With a glowing gesture, Gheth gurgled the best gurgle any of the room's occupants had ever heard. Comparatively speaking, of course. I mean, he was under pressure.

Oh, and a magical weapon appeared out of thin air and gave Rundarr a steel enema.

Damn fine gurgle, though.

Move to V10
Healing Blurghhlglrhhl on Gordok
Cast Spiritual Weapon on T11 (Rundarr): Crit! 15 damage

As Rundarr raises his hammer for the killing blow, Glock quickly detaches one of his less-important knuckles and hurls it at the bell. The resultant vibrations are enough to shake the baffled little halfling to the floor. Rundarr snarls and stays his hand, not wanting to be party to the ruin of his own prized bell.

Backing away into the hall and shouting insults, Glock pulls down the data overlay to see what he can get away with. The data is... not encouraging. Rundarr's been taking his vitamins, it seems.

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

These figures, obviously, do not incorporate the damage Rundarr suffers over the remainder of the post.

Though Gordok's odd fantasy had really only lasted a fraction of a second as he slid off the bell and bonked his head on the floor, in his memory it seemed to have gone on for hours. One day he'd find the magical purple blob that had filled him with such joy. He would find him, and he would eat him. To gain his power. In the meantime, however, he just ran across the room and made a series of rude gestures at the beardy jackass that had made his stay on the Bell Of Delights so unpleasant. Screw that guy. Manifesting his bear powers, he conjures up a terrible claw that drags the duergar as far from the bell as possible. He's ruining it for everyone else.

Charging into the fray only to see Gordok flee from it, Gheth opens his mouth to shout — only to find some kind of unpleasant blockage in his throat. He gurgles, and hacks, and coughs, and at great length he expels a luminous dagger which flies off quite of its own volition and lodges itself between Rundarr's shoulderblades. Odd spot of luck, that. Gordok finds himself impressed; the most dangerous thing he's ever horked up was a particularly stubborn ferret.

The guard trapped under the bell continues trying to smash his way out from within, though with the bell firmly settled on the floor it no longer produces quite as much of a racket. It ought to continue holding him for a little while. Hearing the tramp of boots behind him, Glock whirls around to see another guard coming rounding the corner into the eastern corridor. The Horde are being flanked!

:savepoint: Garrmondo, Delic, Duergar Scouts, Rundarr, Glock, Gordok, Gheth, Duergar Guards