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A world full of nothing but busty dragonborn wenches. Beegraks sure lucked out this time. He'd heard of portals leading to alternate realities in the past, but this was the first time he'd actually gone through one. What's more, every one of them were ready to submit to his every whim and will! Look at them all, kneeling before him, and rubbing him all over with their fancy dragon lotions. Oh, Beegraks reaches out and grabs him something sweet. Oh yeah. She likes it. And another one. Oh boy. Sweet, sweet luck this time for Beegraks.
Hey, what's that boulder doing on that ledge over his head? Ah crap, looks like it's headed his way... BAM A rude awekening for Beegraks if he's ever had one. Not quite sure what actually just happened, Smothas starts looking around a bit before catching on that it was all just a dream. Grumbling and cussing as he gets up, he realizes it was the magic man that delivered the blow, and that he didn't quite luck out as much as he'd wished. Quite the opposite in fact, it seems like he is stuck in this shady cave for a while. He didn't even get a taste of the announcer man's flesh, and he certainly doesn't seem to be down here with them. Looking at the Sorcerer leaning against the wall, Beegraks walks towards the alcove to their right and peers into it inquisitively to notice the lever at the back of it. Being the born lever-puller that he is, he proceeds to do just that, while grasping his Flail in his other hand. Stand up from prone. Walk to lever. Pull Lever. Stay alert, bom bom stay safe ![]() I was speaking idiomatically. |
The groggy dragonborn rises from his sweet dream, shuffles over to his new best buddy, and immediately pulls the first lever he sees. The rusty mechanism gives way easily, but appears to have hit a snag partway down. Redoubling his efforts, Beegraks manages to force it all the way down.
He hears a faint click from somewhere ahead. An instant later, the everburning torches are snuffed out, enveloping the duo in complete darkness. As sharp as von Brandt's low-light vision may be, the half-elf can't see in the dark. What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? |
"Well." the dragonborn thinks to himself. "Now I know what this does!" And with that he attempts to return the lever to its former position.
Most amazing jew boots |
An instant after the dragonborn clicks the lever back into its original position, the magical darkness lifts.
Sweet, sweet light! As far as Von Brandt can see, nothing in the room has changed during the short interval of darkness. It doesn't seem like the perverted paladin has opportunistically molested him. What, you don't want my bikini-clad body? |
Von Brandt's face lights up with a childish glee. He seizes upon the light-controlling lever, flipping it back and forth as quickly as he can. With his other hand, he quickly fetches a sunrod from his belt and ignites it, waving it back and forth under the pulsing light. A strange and eldritch song comes to the forefront of his memory, the arcane lyrics pouring unbidden from his throat.
"DOOM. DOOM. DOOM. DOOM—" Get the Flash Player to play this audio file: A few minutes later, he releases the lever and leaves it in the "on" position. He's sweaty and exhausted. What had come over him? No matter. Without further hesitation, Cyrus darts down the passage, glancing down the nearest eastern passage (or was it just another nook?) before doing a hella sweet tuck and roll to stop in front of the second passage. The endorphins were still coursing through him. "DOOOOOOUCHE!" Jam it back in, in the dark. |
As he suspected, the second "tunnel" from the origin point was nothing more than a nook. Though this time, there's nothing remarkable about it. The tunnel to Cyrus' left extends for about 18 feet from his current position. A large earthenware pot lies directly against its wall. Von Brandt glances down at his hand - he's still carrying the lever that he played with. The strain from his last enthusiastic stroke was apparently too much for the helpless shaft. ![]() There's nowhere I can't reach. |
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Move to I6 History check on pot to determine origin This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. |
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Uncharacteristic of someone who spent most of his life in a swamp, Smothas Beegraks shows a surprising appreciation for the arts and stops short of smashing the pot. He wracks his mind as to its provenance - sheltered and solitary as his life was, he knows he's seen that type of pot before.
Then it hit him. Merchants. While he was preying on victims traveling towards Waterdeep, he has observed caravans ferrying goods of all kinds into the City of Splendor. A particularly memorable (and delicious) expedition from the Dalelands carried this type of pot, a burial urn that depicts Kelemvor Lyonsbane, the judge of the damned. Beegraks notices a few scraps of parchment inside the urn. There is writing on one side of each scrap, but it is impossible to determine the message until the scraps are pieced together. There appears to be too few pieces for a proper reassembly to be done. I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? |
Still dizzy and over-enthused, Cyrus darts over to the urn and seizes it with both hands.
"You can keep those scraps, lizard. This sweet-ass helmet I claim for the kingdom of Brandtopia." And with that, he returns to the main corridor, overturns the urn and places it over his head. "GET OUTTA THE WAY, SUCKAS. HERE COMES THE LIGHTNING TRAIN!" Lower head Charge southward until collision, leading with be-urned noggin Scream "choo choo!" every few moments ![]() Most amazing jew boots |
"Magic man, have you been smoking those magic rocks again? Didn't I tell you to warn me before you do that, so I can get in on that action?"
After standing in awe for some time at his partner's somewhat over the top reaction to what was decidedly a rather benign vase, The dragonborn stuff's the scraps of paper inside his bag for later use. Nonchalantly exiting the alcove, Beegraks moves southward towards the next one and peeks in. How ya doing, buddy? |
________ Von Brandt takes further leave of his senses, and barrels blindly with an urn obstructing his view. He crashes into the far end of the wall a few seconds later, utterly obliterating the urn into hundreds of shards. Wall takes 8 HP damage. Von Brandt takes 4 HP damage, is prone. The sorcerer trips and falls on what he initially thought to be an indistinct pile of rocks stacked at the end of the main passage. Upon closer examination, it's actually a pile of dry bones. And... is it a trick of the light, or...? And why is it cooler here? Before Cyrus' dazed eyes, an ominous purple light suffuses the bones he's trampled on. Thus enervated, two skeletons abruptly rise from the pile, jabbing Cyrus in the ribs with their longswords. The half-elf feebly tries to parry, but most of the hits go through since he was completely taken by surprise. Well, Cyrus waxes philosophically, at least they can't surround me. Not with the wall right at my back! Skeleton Soldiers : AC 21, Fort 18, Ref 19, Will 18 Longsword, +11 vs AC (12+ to hit Cyrus, 10+ with combat advantage) Surprise Round! Longsword vs. Cyrus x2. Cyrus takes 10 damage. To ARMS! Round 1 Starts. Longsword vs. Cyrus x2. Critical Hit! Cyrus takes 5 damage. Von Brandt (+1 x8), Beegraks (+1 x2), ROUND-2 Skeleton SoldiersFELIPE NO |
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And with that, Cyrus began to flap his arms around wildly. His strange belief in his own bonelessness combined with his magical talent makes his whirling limbs not unlike a pair of spinning rotors, and the skeleton before him was toppled easily. For the duration of the battle, attack to subdue rather than kill Whirlwind centered on Cyrus, excluding him 20 damage to Skeleton AC3, and it's prone Lightning Shift up to X3, look down that side passage while I'm there. ![]() What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?
Last edited by The unmovable stubborn; Dec 20, 2010 at 09:56 PM.
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Supremely satisfied with his jaunty pair of acrobatic boots, Von Brandt leaps to his feet with great agility, and starts flailing at what he believes to be his own skeletal system. A lucky shot catches the skeleton right in front of him by surprise; despite Cyrus' best effort not to destroy it, it collapses to the ground in 206 pieces.
AC3 skeleton The opening leaves the him with just enough room to maneuver. The storm sorcerer quickly streaks back towards his lizard friend like greased lightning, slightly the worse for wear. Cyrus' eyes were fast enough to catch a few glimpses of the two 'passages' he traversed past. The one closest to the far wall extends 60 feet before branching off into other paths unseen. The passage he stopped in front of was merely another nook in the wall, this time containing a wooden barrel. Cyrus notices three new switches similar to the one he just destroyed. One is directly in front of him, embedded in a wall. He also briefly caught a glance of two others - now to his back - on both sides of the tunnel that intersects the main passage. Jam it back in, in the dark. |
"Magic man, how did you get your bones out without the blood spilling all over the place? It amazes me to no end! Don't worry, I'll keep them in top shape and we will get them back into you in no time!"
Beegraks shouts in reverent amazement as he start barreling down the hall towards the fight. Double-move as far down the hall as I can ![]() There's nowhere I can't reach. |
They would soon be inundated with Cyrus bones if this keeps up. Two skeletons immediately charge the dastardly duo with longswords pointed at their bellies - only to have the dragonborn annihilate the bones charging his buddy. He flails out a second time as another skeleton continues the charge against Von Brandt. The flail misses, but puts the skeleton so off-kilter that it missed its quarry. Taking advantage of Beegraks' momentary distraction, the last skeleton slashes at his face. This time, it connects. A charges Beegraks; C and D charge Von Brandt. Beegraks destroys C with opportunity attack; misses D. B uses longsword against Beegraks. A and D miss; B hits. 5 damage to Beegraks. Von Brandt (+1 x8), Beegraks (+1 x2), ROUND-3 Skeleton SoldiersThis thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. |
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Cyrus' lip curls in disgust, watching as the pile of skeleton bones writhes around and occasionally vomits forth another fully-formed skeletal combatant. What fresh hell is this, that he must behold his own skeleton copulating with itself? Von Brandt had seen more than his share of foul deeds, but a necro-incestuous skeletal clone orgy was far outside his experience. "There are more than enough of them that we may safely destroy them at will and still reassemble a butler from the remains. We must stop this horror at once. I don't know how this works, but let's try the most obvious method first." And with that, Cyrus aimed his mighty boot directly at the nearest skeleton's pelvis. The offending bone rockets away from the rest of the skeleton, flying backwards through the ribcage of the skeleton behind. Both collapse in a heap. Lightning Strike (as melee) to Skeleton D, branching to B; both destroyed, by my reckoning. ![]() I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?
Last edited by The unmovable stubborn; Dec 24, 2010 at 09:53 PM.
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Lecherous Hands on Von Brandt Now confident that he'll get it right, he proceeds to lay his flail into the remaining skeleton. Ardent Strike to Skelly A Skelly A Dismembered As soon as the skelly falls from the hit, Beegraks starts to study the damage and see if anything needs to be glued up for Cyrus to be comfortable in his own skin again. I was speaking idiomatically. ![]() Juggle dammit |
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With an urgent need to quickly put Von Brandt's self-procreating bones back into his body, the pair wastes no time in dispatching the wayward skeletons. Beegraks fondles his partner's pelvic region, attempting to determine the general topology of Cyrus' waist. His hand brushes against something hard and stiff. That is odd indeed - if Von Brandt's bones are truly outside of his body, shouldn't he be nothing more than a quivering jelly-like mass of skin and meat?
Cyrus violently jumps in the air as the Smotherer Bandit caresses him. The motion interrupts the evil paladin's soothing touch. Perhaps another time, when the pair are more hard-pressed? An examination of the disassembled skeletons show nothing amiss. Other than the fact that they were up and about until a while ago, they look like ordinary dry bones to the dragonborn. The skeletons show no sign of reanimating; it seems as though they are beyond the boundaries of whatever had energized them in the first place. However, Cyrus still feels the presence of the icy chill he experienced previously. It reeks of profane magic, though he is unable to pinpoint the exact source offhand. Before their horrified eyes, a pair of skeletal warriors rise slowly from the bone pile. Their eye sockets flash with an unearthly malevolence as they inch forward towards the paladin. Both skeletons draw a spare tibia from the scattered bones, brandishing their improvised weapons with apparent glee, but otherwise make no move to attack... for now. Both skeletons ready an action: charge anything that attacks or enters row Z; culminating in melee basic attack. Von Brandt (+1 x8), Beegraks (+1 x2), ROUND-4 Skeleton SoldiersWhat kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? |
Cyrus flings a thunder bomb from his palm, smiling smugly as it bounces around the heap of skeletons and lands in a dark corner... before it detonates with a deafening kaboom. Thunder Bomb centered on AD3 20 damage to whatever I hit ![]() FELIPE NO
Last edited by The unmovable stubborn; Dec 30, 2010 at 06:40 AM.
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As Beegraks is taunting the bonebags, he steps forward and braces for impact, seeing that they are obviously waiting for just this opportunity. He readies his arcing smite in great anticipation. Move to Z2, ready arcing smite to both skellys Skelly A go byebye ![]() What, you don't want my bikini-clad body? ![]() Juggle dammit |
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Reacting quickly, the other remaining skeleton charges full tilt towards the sorcerer. Most unfortunately, it catches a heavy flail at its midsection - and without a pelvis, clatters to the ground in front of Cyrus - quite inanimate. The skeletal pile shudders, its ominous light changing hues to a more fiery red. Four skeleton warriors rise from the bones, and slowly approach the pair. Beegraks stands ready this time, casually cutting one down with an elegant arc, and just barely missing its neighbor. He's immediately punished for the transgression, clubbed on the head with some poor unfortunate's ribs, and hit on the head with a well-thrown skull. Bone pile takes 20 damage. Readied action triggers: surviving skeleton charges Von Brandt. Killed by Beegraks' opportunity attack. Z3 is now difficult terrain. Beegraks kills new Skeleton A. Remaining skeletons attack Beegraks; B and D hit for 9 damage total. Von Brandt (+1 x9 - roll 1d100 for free prize spin), Beegraks (+1 x2), ROUND-5 Skeleton SoldiersJam it back in, in the dark. |
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"I hate you, bone pile", he mutters, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Eyebite vs pile. 12 damage to pile on account of it feels guilty for being such a dick. Cyrus gets hell of invisible. ![]() There's nowhere I can't reach.
Last edited by The unmovable stubborn; Jan 5, 2011 at 06:38 PM.
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Trap defused! ![]() The party can regain any ONE encounter power already spent. This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. |
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As the bones crumple at his feet, the dragonborn swings his flail one last time at the pile before realizing what this might mean for his friend's reconstitution.
As he notices that the magic man is a bit distracted, Beegraks, acting as nonchalantly as he can, whistles and goes back into the last alcove to check the contents of the barrel, hoping that Cyrus doesn't notice that his bones are now in quite poor shape. Move to barrel and inspect Spend a healing surge ![]() I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? |
Not without difficulty, Beegraks pries open the wooden barrel with his bare hands. Strangely enough, the barrel's insides are coated with glass, instead of the wood Beegraks was expecting.
He peers into the barrel. It's almost filled to the brim with a thick viscous fluid the color of shale. The gel looks almost pudding-like in consistency. Perhaps it's edible? I guess Pang's waiting for the outcome. I was also waiting for his post, hence the delay Sorry. I was speaking idiomatically. |
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| Tags |
| arena, dungeons and dragons, evil pcs, suicidal sorcerers |
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