D&D Arena: Brutal Bastards, Beegraks and von Brandt
 

Come one, come all, to a new installment of Mortal Combat Arena! If you are here for the first time, I guarantee you're in for a real treat!

Yes, friends. Tonight, you shall see the unbridled ferocity of battle as you have never seen before. Mercenaries, adventurers, indentured slaves... all are welcome to stand equal in the ring, to battle it out for gold, glory, girls, and perhaps their own freedom!

And before you ask, pay no attention to the rubble you see at the middle of the ring. Just a minor accident from last night, courtesy of an overenthusiastic sorceror (who, incidentally, will be returning tonight for an encore). You'll find that our seats here are elevated enough to see past the obstacle.

Of course, our gladiators will have to be more careful in aiming through the rocks, or stepping into the pile. But that's all part of the entertainment, folks!

One more thing, before we introduce the cast for tonight's show. All combatants are to remain within the ring at all times. If both their feet are outside of it, you have my blessing to express your displeasure in any way you want. Rotten fruit is available from our concessionaires for two copper pieces. A few of those ought to catch our errant gladiator's attention, no?

Now, without further ado, let me introduce our first team!

A tomb raider by trade, this half-elf sorceror's robbed one too many graves, and is now here serving the rest of his sentence.... the scoundrel Cyrus voooooooooon Braaaaaaaaaaaandt!!!

His new partner tonight (after yesterday's unfortunate incident with the rubble) is a new face. A self-professed evil paladin, bane of do-gooders everywhere, and the meanest dragonborn you can ever find.... the savage Smothaaaaaaaas Beeeeeeeegraaaaaaks!!!

Gentlemen, before we start, why don't you introduce yourself to our audience today?

Terrain considerations:
Rubble is difficult terrain and provides cover.
Stepping outside the ring will make the audience pelt the offender, making it grant combat advantage.

It was the promise of female consorts, as well as the promise of a chance to slay without consequence and then be set free, which had brought the notorious Smothas Beegraks to the arena. His tale was a tall one, and it would only become moreso after the events that would transpire here.

Abandoned as a child, the dragonborn Smothas Beegraks was picked up by a patrol of lizardmen, face down in the mud, in a small swamp where they lived and held worship to their serpently god Zehir. Though he himself had no recollection of this, he had been left there by his parents, both Paladins who worshipped Pelor. Their order considered the child to be an abomination, for his exhalations had caused many whom he came in contact with to fall gravely ill. His charcoal scales were also of great concern, and the decision was made that the child was not meant to be in this world. Unable to go through with the act of slaying their own youngling, Smothas' parents decided to let the creatures who roamed the swamp deal the blow.

This would not be, and soon the young dragonborn would come to be worshipped and feared by the lizardfolk as a direct creation of, and heir to their god of shadows. A former shrine was converted into a living space for the young wyrmling, and freshly slain creatures were brought to him on a regular basis as nourishment. Once a month, a young female from the tribe would be brought to his quarters as a sacrifice, but beyond this Smothas had no contact with his benefactors, as they feared that their god would punish them for trying to petition him directly. The young lizardlings who where left at the shrine would never return, as the dragonborn took great pleasure in the most lewd of sexual acts, in the course of which he would eventually devour the reproductive organs of the unlucky ones who where gifted upon him. However, the young dragonborn was free to come and go as he pleased, and he would be quite steadfast in the defense of his domain, should any unwelcome visitors try to disturb his worshippers.

After living in this secluded manner for the first two decades of his life, our now mature and fearsome dragonborn came to be displeased with the ones who had sheltered him. One day, when his expected sacrifice failed to show up, he found his satisfaction by slaying the entire tribe and feasting upon the female members. As the carnage came to an end, he set off to explore the world in hopes of finding more of these creatures to prey upon.

His surprise and discontent were not negligible when he realized that he had just thrown away a lifetime's worth of prime lizard tail, and that his kin (which he thought the lizards to be until then) were not as common as he had hoped. After destroying half a dozen small villages, he came to a larger city and decided to observe the passers-by outside the gate, preying on the occasional traveler to satisfy his urge to kill. Female dragonborn, though rather uncommon, where his favored prey. Their breasts in particular sent him into a wild frenzy. Here he learned to understand the languages of men and of his kin by observing the interactions of those he stalked.

Unbeknownst to Smothas, the city guard began paying some of the city folk to investigate the disappearances which had been reported. One of them spotted the dragonborn sleeping in the marsh outside of town one day and decided to watch him from afar. Witnessing one of the kidnappings, he quickly went to the guard captain and informed him of what had transpired. The next night, an ambush was laid, and as a female dragonborn, who was a member of the guard, passed by the hiding spot as bait, the informant (who was decidedly a bit slow in the head) hollered to the guard captain as he watched the young female get fondled by the criminal dragonborn "That thar's the guy offissah! The one who smothas beeeg raks, and then keeels hees veeectims!" The guard swiftly came down upon the scene, but the dragonborn eluded their capture.

It so happened that the guard who wrote up the warrant for arrest had not slept in quite a while, and where the name of the criminal should have gone, he entered the reason he was wanted, like so: "Smothas Beegraks". The epithet would come to stick, at the time of his capture, as the dragonborn had so far not needed a name, living as he did in total seclusion. Many months would pass before he was apprehended though, and many more female dragonborn would feel the grasp of his scaly hands upon their chest.

Those who survived to tell the tale would amaze their surroundings when they told of the invigorating feeling that came over them when the "Dragonborn Smotherer Bandit" had gotten a hold of them… A more elderly one even reported having been completely healed of her rheumatism. It was after his capture that the dragonborn was given the choice to fight for glory in the arena, or be slain as he should have been so long ago...

Cyrus looked askance at his unlikely teammate. Dragonborn were rare in the arenas; they generally chose to fight to the death rather than allow themselves to be captured and humiliated like this. Maybe this one had something to prove, or maybe they'd just caught him napping. Maybe he was just dumber than dirt.

But then who was he to talk? He'd just put his hands up and let them drag him off. Could be he was just curious about what things were like on the messy side of the stands. Could be that this was just a pitiful dog-and-pony show that he expected to rip through like a scythe. Or it could be... it just could be: his long-dormant conscience had decided to reassert itself and seek out punishment for his many, many crimes. So many!

But probably not. Cyrus stifled the laughter that was rumbling up out of his guts — for about 2 seconds. Then he realized he had no good reason to stifle it. Matters were well past the stage of manners and good graces.

For a good minute Cyrus whoops it up, practically bent over double and wheezing for breath.

"Whew. All right, showman. You want to know my story? It's a short one. Boy grows up in slum. Boy trades 20 coppers — his life savings! — to a dying old hedge wizard in exchange for a lesson or two. Oh my, yes. Magic. So many books, so many dusty old books. And our hero... well, let's not call the boy a hero. Our protagonist. Maybe he realizes he doesn't need the books. Maybe the handful of lessons is enough to wake something up inside him. Maybe it's something real ugly. Maybe it burns people.

So our boy is a bona-fide sorcerer now, don't you know. Master of the arcane arts! The arcane arts that hurt people, anyway. But that was enough to make a living on. For a while. So the boy does what bona-fide sorcerers do in these modern times; he takes his show on the road. Slap some meathead in chainmail, ask him if he's got any friends that are, say, particularly religious. Hey presto, you're an adventuring party! And an adventuring party you remain, until dear old meathead decides he wants more than his share of the ogre's hoard.

That's "hoard" with an A. As in treasure.

Oh, says meathead. There's not a mark on him but that I put there with my sword, what right have you got to the reward?

And I says, well, Frederic and I were just slightly distracted fighting off this horde of goblins that came out of the side tunnel. Maybe you missed them. The helmet gives you the tunnel vision sometimes, I sympathize.

Horde with an E this time.

So meathead says fair enough, you two can share the goblins' loot, and I'll take the rest. It was about that time I decided to show him what right I had to my share. I'd melted his damned fool face clean off his tiny head before his oh-so-devout friend took it in mind to intervene. Only one of us walked out of that cave alive; let's leave it at that.

Actually, let's not. It was me. I killed them. I have to remember my audience, you lot probably aren't big on subtle insinuation.

People started asking questions in due time, as they always do in small towns. I've been running ever since. 15 years it's been since our little falling-out. Oh, there's been more, of course. Dead men from here to Neverwinter, bodies from hell to breakfast. Bounty hunters mostly, mercenaries of one stripe or another. A few more partnerships gone south here and there. The occasional cold-blooded murder on commission.

Cash or barter, folks. No job too small. Tell your friends.

Last week they finally corner me in the goddamn cemetery. An entire infantry platoon. I was only in that bastard's mausoleum on account of he died without paying me. Snap off his dry old fingers, keep his gaudy rings, call it a bargain. But I got sloppy. Arrogant. Always was arrogant, tell you the truth. Somebody saw me breaking in, and I'll be damned if I wasn't surrounded before I could even pull out my trusty bonesaw.

Reckon I'll be damned anyway.

As it happens, dead skinflint saw fit to spend his money elsewhere. Anti-magic field, 50 yards in every direction around his carcass. It really was a sight. I'd just point at this bastard, like you do, just smirking and waiting for the lightning to fry him where he stands. Nothing comes out but steam. Oh, sure, I could have still fought. One man with a knife against 20 in full chain. I like the odds, don't you?

And that's why I'm here, friends and neighbors. Tomb robbing. So many dead, and not a one that the law can prove it. It's a shame that the guard is so strongly opposed to disturbing those who rest in peace. Now I can never tell you where the bodies are buried. Wouldn't want those quiet old bones being jostled, would you? Especially your dear sister's bones, Marshal. No sir, mum's the word. Here on out I have a new respect for the departed.

Go ahead and bring on whatever you're bringing, showman. I've done more killin' than you've had hot meals, and I'm feeling hungry."

Idly scratching his beard with his free hand, Cyrus' hand goes to his waist. His fingers hover over the hilt of his dagger, and he waits. He turns his head to take a better look at the dragonborn, and sees an all too familiar glaze over the reptilian eyes. Distracted. Impatient. More than a little unhinged.

They'd get along just fine.

Ha ha! That was quite a story. Yes, ha ha.

Ha.

Uh...

Okay. Let's hear it again, boys and girls, for Bigraks and Von Brandt! You'd be hard-pressed to find two more slimy bastards from this plane!

What's that? You'd rather boo them instead? That'll do! Let's hear some boos! Pucker up, lips in the form of your most throaty orgasmic oooh, hands over the mouth. BOOOOO!

Now that that's over with, what unfortunate souls will they be fighting against tonight? On the other corner, the infamous scourge of our fair City of Splendor. Woe betide any traveling caravan ambushed by their ilk. I give you, the infamous Bugbear Bandits!!!

And now, ladies and gentlemen, let's get ready to RUMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The assassin's on the move. He's taking out his crossbow, applying some sort of... ointment? He fires at the unarmored target. Oh, that's got to hurt, folks. Wow, I think he's already bleeding out, talk about glass cannons.

Larry here's telling us the assassin applied some scorpion venom onto those bolts. Nasty stuff, but doesn't seem to have affected Von Brandt some!

Double Attack vs. Von Brandt. With crossbow, +12 vs. AC.
Both hit - 28 damage to Von Brandt. Bloodied.
Scorpion Venom: +10 vs. Fortitude. Miss.

Defenses:
Bugbear Assassin: AC 21 Fort 21 Ref 20 Will 18
Bugbear Skinners: AC 21 Fort 18 Ref 20 Will 18

:savepoint: Von Brandt (20), Bugbear Skinners (19), Beegraks (12), Bugbear Assassin (26)

"That what passes for poison among the furry set? Look at this, it's been over 5 seconds and I'm still upright! Let me give you a little advice about... about..."

Having lost his train of thought, Cyrus settles for flinging a fuck-off ball of loud at their heads. It's a fairly convincing argument at these things go.

Move up to P10
Thunder Bomb centered on I-11
17 damage to Assassin (slowed 1 round) :birthday:

As the eldritch sphere of compressed arcane fury barely grazes the assassin and splatters on the back wall, Cyrus is nonplussed. "There you go, buddy. I distracted 'em for you. You can have all the glory on this one, don't let me get in your way."

"The last time I was this completely boned, I was literally being strangled to death by skeletons."

There it is, Von Brandt's Thunder Bomb. Is that Assassin paralyzed, or what?

Assassin slowed 1 round.

Oh look, his friends aren't too happy. They're charging towards him! Are those two... insulting him? One's moving in... ah, a flanking maneuver. Looks like Von Brandt didn't take the mockery too well - he's taking a step back, but the bugbear's ready for him. He's still insulting Von Brandt, but it's just a cover for his sickle attack!

Horrifying Mockery: minor, +10 vs Will; push target 1 and shift 3 if successful.
Mocking Rend: +10 vs anything (I choose Reflex).
6 damage to Von Brandt, plus 5 ongoing (save ends).

The assassin's barking out orders. The other two are holding back for now. Maybe they want to see what Beegraks is capable of! You're up next, big guy.

:savepoint: Beegraks (+1 x 0), Bugbear Assassin, Von Brandt (+1 x 1), Bugbear Skinners

As soon as Smothas stepped into the arena, he became distracted by all the noise caused by the people cheering. The dragonborn had, after all, spent most of his life in total seclusion. The second he came out of his daze and looked to his right, the figure who had been standing next to him was pelted by what he knew to be poisoned arrows. He could smell it. Unfazed, Smothas was about to lay his hands on the creature's chest, in hopes of finding something to fondle, when the bearded-one shot out a blast that made him turn his head to watch the results. Even more enticed by this display of power, The scaled one continued his motion towards the creature. The beard gave him pause only a slight bit, as he knew that some rare females did have fur on their faces, as the one he had caught on the edge of his domain, who traveled in a caravan with a bunch of other bizarre creatures. Not his favorite, but the humanoid was somewhat frail of constitution, and it seemed a better bet than the furries across the pile of rubble. The result of the gesture was quite unsatisfactory, and as his interest had diminished, his next reflex was for his second favorite thing. Mass slaughter of creatures who think they're tough.

Lay on hands on cyrus

Two of the creatures had already made their way to him, so he saw no reason not to show them the gravity of their mistake. His trusty flail in hand, he proceeded to send it first to his right, and the to his left in one fluid motion.

Arcing smite on Buggers B and C

Realizing that the others present had started the party without him, the dragonborn decided to compensate by immediately throwing out a second attack. Finally recalling the meaning of the term "buddy", Smothas decided to try and inspire his first ever companion in arms to get back into the fight.

Move to P9, if one of the Buggers OA's miss me, use Counterstrike Guards item power to dish it back out If they both miss, priority to bugger B
Spend Action Point
Resurgent smite on bugger B (Cyrus can spend Surge)
22 damage to bugger B

Beegraks is ... is he fondling von Brandt's chest? Cyrus seems to like it too. Whoa.

Von Brandt regains 21 HP. Beegraks spends a healing surge.

And here's the follow-up. He misses both! Now he's on the move. Oh, careless, careless! One of the skinners got him while he's distracted. There's the blowback with the flail - another miss!

6 damage to Beegraks.

Beegraks is angry now. He's never missed so much. He's bringing the flail down on... oh! He's completely crushed the skull. I've never seen so much brutality here, folks! But look at Von Brandt. He's been revitalized by Beegraks' savagery. He even looks good as new!

Minion B dies. Cyrus regains 25 HP.

The Assassin's just watched one of his acolytes die. He's not too happy here. He's hobbling forward now, taking something out of his pocket - a vial of some kind. He's throwing it at Beegraks, but he dodges it easy. Now the ground's sizzling. I wonder what that was?

:savepoint: Von Brandt (+1 x 1), Bugbear Skinners, Beegraks (+1 x 1), Bugbear Assassin

Cyrus deals poorly with the trauma of being groped by the Rare Swamp-Dwelling Bipedal Fondle Lizard. With a groan of disgust, he breaks away from Smothas — and runs directly into a pair of bugbears. Caught off guard, no suitable spell comes to mind. He settles for kicking the sand of the arena floor in their faces. As they flail at their sand-filled eyes he does his best to issue a cocky smirk, but all he manages is a murderous death stare. Not that it matters too much; with all the sand in the air the hairy bastards can't even see him properly.

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

Lightning Shift to M11
Searing Sands vs Minion D and Assassin
20 damage to both; Cyrus has concealment for 1 round
Action Point!
If Minion D has survived being sanded, Eyebite him
If not, Eyebite Minion A
Miss either way

:plant: Done!

Von Brandt's steamed at his partner! He's moving away, doesn't seem to see the bugbears... Oh, now he sees them. No spells ready. Kicking sand in their faces? Surprisingly effective. He's dropped another bugbear, folks. You can just make Cyrus out under all that dust. He seems to be laughing maniacally.

5 damage to Von Brandt. Makes saving throw.

The last skinner's moving in. Oh, is Beegraks ever in trouble. They're double-teaming him now. Wow, he takes two hits. What agility, folks. Incredible! But that's got to sting for a while.

21 damage to Beegraks. 5 ongoing damage, save ends.

What's he going to do now?

:savepoint: Beegraks (+1 x 1), Bugbear Assassin, Von Brandt (+1 x 2), Bugbear Skinners

"Aaachhhh! Furrrballs getting caaacky!"

Smothas exclaims as the buggers try and rend through him mockingly.

This will not do. Let's see what they've really got, he thinks, as he cries out to Zehir for aid.

Channel Divinity: Divine Strength
Valorous smite on bugger A

Missing his target by a mile, Beegraks decides to take a step back and reflect on his sudden inability to hit anything.

Shift to P8

:cmb: done.

The assassin looks confused. There's sand in his eyes. He's glaring at Von Brandt. Can he still see him?

He's dropping the crossbow now, moving into melee. What's that he's applying on that longsword? Another round of Scorpion venom? No, I've been told it's blood from a ghoul. How chilling! Is that even possible? Do ghouls bleed?

Aha! He's circling Von Brandt now, two attacks on the sorcerer. Von Brandt gets hit, and again. Looks like that ghoul blood's not affecting him though!

21 damage to Von Brandt.
Ghoul Blood: +10 vs Fortitude. Miss due to concealment.

Please ignore the name of that object.
:savepoint: Von Brandt (+1 x 2), Bugbear Skinners, Beegraks (+1 x 2), Bugbear Assassin

Still paying no attention to the savage beating the assassin was doling out, Cyrus sidesteps a bit and whirls around, arcs of lightning crackling from his palms. He cackles madly, twisting his hands into claws as he pours down electric torment upon his foes.

In the sense that his foes are "some sand" and the torment in question is "being scorched a bit".

Shift to N10
Lightning Strike Minion A, arcing to Minion B on a hit
Well, crap

:plant:

Von Brandt's moving now, cackling like a chicken. He's got his eye on the one of the skinners. He calls down a lightning strike... on the sand? Oh well, at least he's made some very smooth glass. Might be worth something on the black market. If he doesn't break his neck slipping off it.

Terrain Considerations. Entering squares where glass is present will cause a creature to slip and fall prone. DC 17 Acrobatics to keep your balance and remain standing and/or keep moving.

Are those... skinners laughing? Seems to have hurt the feelings of poor Cyrus! He's staggering back, probably in shame!

C's Horrifying Mockery is all used up, so no pushin' Beegraks. Please ignore that roll. Also, D is dead. It's all C. Apologies.

What coordination, folks! The skinners are flanking one after the another, as if in a well-practiced dance! Amazing, this is what the Bugbear Bandits are capable of!

...

Maybe they should've stuck to just walking.

Both attacks miss.

:savepoint: Beegraks (+1 x 2), Bugbear Assassin, Von Brandt (+1 x 3), Bugbear Skinners,

Once again quite impressed at the flash displayed by his compatriot, who decidedly doesn't have a much better track record than him with hitting things, Beegraks decides that it's about time he showed that he too could be all flashy like.

Dragon Breath blast 5 out of the upper right corner of my spot so as to hit everyone else
9 damage to Lead Bugger
5 damage to bugger C
Both now marked by my Divine (Unholy?) Sanction

With a sudden burst of energy, Smothas runs straight up to the frontline and starts trying to apologize to his new best friend for almost spraying him with his rotten breath.

Second Wind, without using Cloak of Walking Wounded (so single surge used)
Move to O10 by way of P9
Ready Martyr's Blessing to use in the event that an attack would incapacitate C to the Von B, wether through pure damage or through ongoing poison left by the attack

:cmb:

Wowzers! That was quite a stink Beegraks let off. There goes another bugbear - they're dropping like flies here. No offense, Nug.

Oh, he's not giving up. He's flanking Von Brandt with his last partner now. He probably won't last much longer though - that stench did a number on him. That's the spirit! He's applying another substance to that sword of his. That doesn't look like scorpion venom or ghoul blood...

Assassin is bloodied.
Mindfire Poison: +10 vs. Will. Target blinded (save ends). Finally, a hit yay.

What's this? I could've sworn the bugbear attacked Von Brandt. Why is blood spurting from Beegraks? Come to think of it, why's the assassin reeling from pain?

6 necrotic damage due to divine sanction. (I am uncertain whether Martyr's Blessing negates this, but since divine sanction specifies "attack" and Martyr's Blessing specifies "hit", I'm thinking 'no.' Deni?)
Martyr's Blessing activates. 36 damage to Beegraks (would have k.o.ed Von Brandt). Bloodied and blinded (save ends).


:savepoint: Von Brandt (+1 x 3), Bugbear Skinners, Beegraks (+1 x 3), Bugbear Assassin

Cyrus' face twists up in confusion. He'd seen the longsword pierce his ribs; when the paladin fell over bleeding instead of himself he was almost too baffled to feel grateful. The dragonborn was wearing the twisted snake symbol of Zehir, a god of poison and murder. What kind of Zehiran willingly fell on a sword to save someone else?

Though he's glad that his own hide was in one piece, he now views his ally with suspicion. There was still good in the paladin. He could sense it. And it made him nauseous.

Cyrus sidles away in the confusion as the assassin checks his sword for any obvious sabotage. It's time for Cyrus to use one of his favorite tricks. First, you sneak up on a guy. Then you yell right in his ear, as loud as you can. You yell so hard that he just falls down and dies.

http://www.saxypunch.com/miscimg/chr...ngham_main.jpg

It's lucky his ally was blinded for the moment, Cyrus' face looks all weird and stretchy when he's doing his Ultra Shout Technique. You have to dislocate your jaw a little to get the right resonant frequency.

Shift to M11
Whirlwind centered on self; use Storm Magic bonus to exclude self as target
Area attack so I'm provoking two OAs, but I think it's a risk worth taking
Success! Minion's hella dead. 15 damage to assassin (since he's bloodied), and he's prone.

:plant:

Von Brandt's on the move again, he looks confused. The bugbears look confused too, but no, they have no time to be. Cyrus' breathing in deep - his whirlwind move! They know what's coming. They're whacking at Von Brandt while they still can! He's bleeding again, but that's not enough to stop him!

6 damage to Von Brandt. Bloodied.

Oh my stars and garters, one bugbear left! And he doesn't look so good.

:savepoint: Beegraks (+1 x 3), Bugbear Assassin, Von Brandt (+1 x 4)

The dragonborn had no clue what had just happened. One second he was about to go tell his buddy that he wasn't intending to cover him in poisonous goo, and the next he was completely blind to everything around him. Maybe it was when he tried to step in front of one of the furries to get his buddy's attention that something happened. Decidedly, he had been stabbed in the side, this he knew.

Figuring there was nothing better to do than wait for his vision to return, the dragonman from right around Waterdeep decided to reach into his bag and grab one of those worker's hammers he had purchased to toss around should the occasion arise. He then braced for the possibility of another impact like the one he had just suffered.

Get a hammer out of my bag, holding my flail in the other hand
Total Defense

:cmb:

Beegraks is up to something. Taking something from his pack... a hammer? What's he going to do with it?

...

Okay folks, he's just standing there. Doing nothing.

The bugbear's on his last legs. He's getting up - looks wobbly on his feet. Applying that venom again. Ooh, that's got to sting Von Brandt a ltitle!

Divine Sanction expires.
10 damage to Von Brandt. Slowed; 5 ongoing damage (save ends both).

:savepoint: Von Brandt (+1 x 4), Beegraks (+1 x 4), Bugbear Assassin

"Look at this guy", Cyrus rasps to his erstwhile companion. He spits out a mouthful of blood. "Thinks he's so tough."

He staggers backward, away from the Assassin. "Friend, I've forgot more about the applied usage of deadly chemicals then you'll ever learn. And I say this with the full confidence that you'll never learn anything, ever again."

A sphere of viscous, hissing goo materializes in Cyrus' open hand, seemingly oozing out of his very pores. At this short range, it's easy to hurl the acid blob into the Assassin's face; it tears into the bugbear's flesh with the meaty hiss of a pan of fried eggs.

Cyrus just smiles for a moment, before breaking into a hacking cough. This kind of continuous exertion can really take it out of him.

Trigger my Shared Suffering armor's Encounter power; Assassin also takes 5 ongoing damage (save ends)
Turn begins, take 5 damage
Shift to N10
Acid Orb vs Assassin
20 damage to Assassin
Save failed

:plant:

In his blinded haze, Beegraks fell prey to visions of what could be. Suddenly, a better world for all would be possible, if only he could teach everyone to read at a mages' guild level, they would understand that they were letting the monarchy control their lives and...

What the-

http://i392.photobucket.com/albums/p...l_the_best.jpg

Throws hammer in the direction of where he last saw the assasin standing with his Giantkind Gloves while jumping in the air for style points
It's super effective!
15 damage to Assassin


:cmb:

Aaaand that's a wrap folks, Von Brandt's incapaci---- hey hold it right there Beegraks! Oh great, bugbear's down and he still wallops it with a hammer. What am I going to tell the Guard. Let's hope Nug's still alive. Cleric!

-------

Looks like our Dastardly Duo's a keeper, ladies and gentlemen. Hey, here's our conquering her-protagonists! Here's the prize for your victory! I'm not sure what these gauntlets are, but I'm sure you'll find a use for these 72 gold pieces!

While we clean up the mess, let's hear what Cyrus and Smothas have to say about their victory! (Beegraks is gonna love the next fight. It's totally a blast from the past!)

Congratulations, gentlemen! Cyrus, how did you like fighting alongside the Smotherer Bandit? Is it true that being groped by him leads to... good things? And Beegraks. People here are asking, since when does a Zehir worshipper willingly sacrifice themselves for another's sake?

Enforced short rest. 10 minutes.

"Zehirrr looks well upon those with power who aid hisss Chosen. Buggerrrsss try to gang up on Beegrrraaaksss, but wizard help in ssslaughter."

He pauses.

"Announssser man sssoundss tassssssssty!!!"

Retrieves hammer of overkill
Uses 2 Healing Surges so as to get back to full health
Grabs 72 gold while throwing the gauntlets to his buddy
Sniffs around for the announcer man

:cmb: