[DnD] Welcome to the Dungeon of Doom!

From Fescue's elevated position, he's able to easily wing the shuriken through the cloud of magical blades. The goblin's left arm is now conveniently pinned to his body, so he won't misplace it!

Critical Hit! 9 damage.

Enraged, the northmost goblin charges forward through the cloud, intent on pushing Fescue off the table. Unfortunately, he has to run past Motsognir, who knows an opportunity when he sees it and wings the goblin with his axe.

The bull rush ends in failure as Fescue easily holds back the charging goblin with his boot.

7 more damage to goblin via misadventure

The goblin having become the easiest of targets, Motsognir scores yet another solid hit, his axe biting into the Bravest Goblin That Ever Lived.

7 damage



There's nowhere I can't reach.

Argumentus' precision uppercut clips the goblin's jaw, and the unlucky creature's few remaining teeth are driven directly into its brainpan, killing it.

8 damage

The remaining beetle, still not yet ready to emit another burst of flame, continues its tactical retreat by moving away from the doorway's line-of-sight.

The surviving goblin, his javelins having proven mostly useless, adopts a similar tack.



The Cloud of Daggers expires at the end of Bob's turn, unless he casts it again.

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

Unfortunately, much of Gabriel's momentum is lost in the process of taking an abrupt U-turn through a doorway, and only batters the goblin with a fraction of the intended force; still enough to be reckoned with, but a disappointment all the same.

5 damage

New round! Initiative priority: Goblin, Fescue, Motsognir, Gabriel, Argumentus, Beetle, Scary Bob

The last surviving goblin, realizing the time for running iss over, resolves to do as much damage as he can before the beardmonster finishes him. Drawing a wicked spear from his sheaf of javelins, he puts all his strength into a last-ditch thrust at the hated dwarf.

The spear snaps like a twig against Gabriel's armor. The goblin, having exhausted his store of bravado, falls back on the reliable standard of stumbling away whilst grovelling pitifully.



I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

Fescue corners the beetle, his blade ripping a deep gouge through the beetle, and iridescent flakes of exoskeleton scatter into the air.

7 damage

Motsognir rushes in to further abuse the cornered insect, his axe hacking off a leg or two.

6 damage

Gabriel's mighty rage blurs his vision for an instant, and the thrice-damned goblin narrowly ducks under the instrument of his inevitable demise.

Argumentus's HP 25, Gabriel's HP 28 (sorry Deni)

Pinned against the wall, the beetle has no options save its vicious bite. Its mandibles tear painfully into Motsognir's leg.

Motsognir's HP 19



I was speaking idiomatically.

The icy ray strikes the beetle squarely, slowing its already-feeble writhings.

8 damage, beetle is slowed and bloodied. New round! Initiative priority: Bob, Fescue, Gabriel, Motsognir, Beetle, Goblin, Argumentus



What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

I'm just going to skip the color commentary this time, since same attack -> same enemy -> pretty much same result. 7 damage.

FELIPE NO

Fescue's blade tears through the insect, powered by his frustration. The massive beetle is torn asunder and slain, its two halves continuing to twitch as its lifeblood pools around it.

Critical hit! 9 damage. Beetle killed.

Gabriel Sledgehammer's indignation-powered overhead smash misses its target slightly, hurtling down onto the goblin's shoulder with a sickening crunch.

7 damage

Motsognir raises his axe into the air, preparing to finish off the vile beetle — and as he swings down, the human neatly cuts his target in two. Determined not to waste the swing, he twists his body to the left and begins to spin. The tornado of dwarven haplessness rapidly wends its way across the room and, winding down, catches the goblin in the neck with a gentle tap. The goblin shrugs with its remaining arm and shoots the warlord a look of gratitude before collapsing to the stones.

3 damage, goblin killed. Surge returns Motsognir to full HP.



Battle complete! Encounter value 500 XP (100 XP apiece)

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

Although it's hard to make out through the thick miasma of foul spices that always permeate goblin cooking, the pot is packed with the floating bodies of dozens of rats, small beetles, and other vermin. Without the fire beetles to keep the stew hot, it's rapidly congealing.

Jam it back in, in the dark.

Nothing untoward occurs!

Dammit

There's nowhere I can't reach.

A search of the goblin bodies reveals little of use. Outside their battle-gear and a handful of coins, you find a tarnished silver statuette on the body of the largest of the goblins. You recognize the figure as a representation of Bane, an evil god of war.

Stuffed in the javelin sheaf of the stubborn goblin, you find a bilingual scroll in both Common and a language you don't recognize: How To Weep For Mercy, The Weepy-Weep Way. The ink is still fresh!

Lewts: 25 GP, silver statuette, helpful guide to weeping

Equipment: 3 sets leather armor, short sword, 5 javelins, 1 spear. I won't bother adding random equippables like this to your inventories unless you specifically mention them, since otherwise you'll get overburdened in a hurry.

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

Zeph:

This room was probably a kitchen at one time, but rotted shelves and cupboards have spilled their payload of dishes over the floor, and the ancient brick oven has been converted into an unfortunate makeshift privy. A small glass vial of black fluid lies abandoned in a corner.

Brady: Argumentus sees nothing unusual about the door.

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

Zeph: The black fluid is slow to move around in the vial as you turn it about in your hands, and it leaves a glistening trail behind it. It's probably some kind of oil.

With no one bothering to closely examine the door other than the slow-witted Argumentus, the object weighing it down — a block of stone — crashes onto the poor simpleton's head. Luckily, he doesn't even notice.

The door, divested of its burden, swings heavily into the next room.

This chamber is cluttered with boxes, crates, chests, packages, and containers of all sizes. Sadly, most of them have been torn to shreds by the horde of vicious rats in residence here. Big rats, bigger rats... and a veritable multitude of smaller, hungrier rats, all of them streaming around a ceiling-high stack of boxes in the center of the room — toward the hapless Argumentus, who has been disappointed once again in his quest for puppies. It is a tragic moment.

With a great effort, Scary Bob manages to tip over the table and provide himself with an effective shield.



Any of the squares in this room containing a crate are Difficult Terrain, requiring two squares of movement instead of one. Because of the tall stack of boxes, you can't pass through the square in the center of the room at all, nor can you draw a line of sight through it.

Combat time! Initiative order: Scary Bob, Argumentus, Rat Swarm, Dire Rat (Left), Fescue, Giant Rats (3), Gabriel, Motsognir, Dire Rat (Right)

I was speaking idiomatically.

As Argumentus gawks at the incoming fuzzy things, he shifts his weight in the wrong direction at a bad time. The freezing beam ricochets from his greaves, flying back in Bob's direction and very narrowly missing his head before splattering against the far wall with a sound like shattering glass.

Critical miss!

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

A swarm of rats (of roughly usual size) rushes toward the door, but makes little headway before being caught up in internal debate.

Meanwhile a massive rodent, its maw flecked with spittle, rushes the backpedaling Argumentus.

Gabriel, hidden beside the doorway, takes an opportunistic swing at the heedless animal and trips it up.

Robbed of any momentum, the rat's vicious jaws snap shut a few inches short of the target.



Gabriel's attack of opportunity: 7 damage.

FELIPE NO

Fescue slips away into the adjoining room without difficulty, sealing the door behind him and taking in his surroundings. This was probably the pantry; most of the chamber is packed with deflated grain sacks and various barrels and kegs. The thick dust coating the majority of the room is absent from a small radius surrounding a hatch in the southwest corner.

Meanwhile, a cluster of large rats trundles toward the rest of the party, one of them nipping the harried paladin.



3 damage to Gabriel, HP 21

How ya doing, buddy?

Gabriel's attack widely misses the rat; no surprise, as it's difficult to take a really good swing at something latched onto your own ankle. All the same, the rush of battle energized him, and he felt as good as new.

Gabriel returns to full HP.

The warlord Motsognir jogs up to stand beside the unlucky wizard, looking at his ice-rimed staff as if searching for the defect.

The last of the rats finally makes it to the doorway, snapping futilely at the paladin amidst the furor.

New round! Fescue, Giant Rats, Motsognir, South Dire Rat, North Dire Rat, Rat Swarm, Scary Bob, Gabriel, Argumentus

Fescue enters the vicinity of the hatch, and immediately begins to stick to the floor. The area around the hatch is coated in a slimy sheen. The goo clings to his boots, making every step an effort. The hatch is slightly ajar, and the glint of gems can be seen — faintly, as though through a veil.

The giant rats continue to stream through the door. Gabriel catches one as it passes him, and dashes its brains onto the floor, killing it.



Jam it back in, in the dark.

Hurtling past one dire rat to reach another, Motsognir is inadvertently bitten. The southernmost rat's filthy maw tears a chunk out of his leg. Stumbling in pain, Motsognir's axe falls short of the target. However, his noble attempt is still inspiring to those around him, if only because it will make for a funny story later.

South Dire Rat gets Att. of Opportunity on Motsognir. Motsognir takes 4 damage and contracts filth fever (loses 1 healing surge) All members of party except Fescue gain 5 temporary HP from the Bastion of Defense

The same dire rat strikes again, snapping at Argumentus. Leaping at the big man, he opens a nasty gash in the fighter's arm.

7 damage to Argumentus, who contracts filth fever (loses 1 healing surge)

To the north, another dire rat nips at Gabriel, but misses. The stampede of ordinary rats moves ever closer to the door, temporarily flummoxed by a disagreement about military spending.

A lot of crap happened there, so let's do a quick status update for the party.

Argumentus: 21 HP (feverish)
Gabriel: 35 HP (including 5 temporary)
Motsognir: 26 HP (including 5 temporary) (feverish)
Scary Bob: 24 HP (including 5 temporary)
Fescue: 26 HP



There's nowhere I can't reach.

The oversized vermin manages to avoid a skewering, at least for the moment.

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

The paladin's fervor grants him a truly impressive swing, dealing a mighty wound to the vile rat. Argumentus, always entertained by injury to living things, is assuredly heartened by the sight.

16 damage to Dire Rat north. Argumentus' HP to 31

As Argumentus sidles past the southern Dire Rat, his initial swing at that creature misses by far. But as his stride carries him toward the dagger-harried Giant Rat, his fists batter the cloud of blades aside, rocketing through to pummel the rat into a fine red jelly.

Miss, and then a Critical Hit: 10 damage

New round! Initiative order: Bob, Dire Rat North, Gabriel, Rat Swarm, Giant Rat, Motsognir, Dire Rat South, Argumentus, Fescue



I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

The dire rat barely dodges the enervating ray, and what's left of the northwest doorway begins happily boiling away instead.

The northern dire rat then charges into the vacancy recently created by Argumentus, biting into the paladin and and leaving a garish wound.

6 damage to Gabriel, who contracts filth fever (and loses a surge.)



I was speaking idiomatically.

Gabriel lands a solid blow on the offending rat and bloodies it, regaining a certain measure of dignity.

Gabriel hits north Dire Rat for 8, and gains 2 temporary HP.

The roiling swarm of smaller rats at last pours through the doorway, piling onto the already-harried Argumentus. The fighter is engulfed in small bitey things.

5 damage to Argumentus: 26 HP

The last of the rats finally enters the fray as a giant rat lunges for the paladin. Motsognir takes a wild swing at the creature as it passes him, but misses. Another small puncture is added to Gabriel's already-extensive gallery of scars.

3 damage to Gabriel: 28 HP



What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

Motsognir turns his attention to the southern rat, battering it severely — well, as severely as he's likely to, anyway. The strike seems to enrage the beast, and it ceases paying any attention to Argumentus.

9 damage to South Rat. Argumentus receives a +4 bonus to hit if he attacks the south dire rat before Motsognir's next turn.

The same rat takes out its frustrations on Motsognir, its claws raking his forearms.

7 damage to Motsognir: 19 HP

FELIPE NO

Unleashing a flurry of careless punches, Argumentus barely harms the rat. Worse yet, he's still being swarmed by tiny pests, biting and scratching him in great numbers.

2 damage to south dire rat from reaping strike's miss condition. Argumentus takes 9 damage from proximity to rat swarm: 17 HP

As Fescue crouches to examine the goo on the floor, he notices the hatch on the floor is moving almost imperceptibly — pulsing up and down. Acting with a professional rogue's innate intuition for danger, he sprints out the door as a hulking yellow blob of mobile slime heaves itself out of the hatch.

New Round! Initiative Order: Rat Swarm, Bob, Giant Rat, Fescue, Slime, Dire Rat North, Dire Rat South, Gabriel, Motsognir, Argumentus

Seeking another meal, the rat swarm turns its attentions to the paladin as well, but the stalwart dwarf fends off the hungry horde.



What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

The ray of frost strikes at the very center of the swarm, but only a rat or two is hit amidst the turmoil. This threat seems to call for something less precise.

2 damage to swarm.

The last of the Giant Rats takes a nibble out of Gabriel. His flesh is delicious.

3 damage to Gabriel: 25 HP

Jam it back in, in the dark.

Fescue sprints toward the fray, handily leaping one table and sidestepping the next. Drawing his crossbow as he runs, he fires a bolt at what seems like the softest target — and misses by an inch.

The ooze sluggishly trails in his wake, squeezing through an open doorway.

Pulled toward the paladin by his divine edict, the northern Dire Rat charges through its brethren to assault him. Both Motsognir and Argumentus attempt a strike at it while its back is turned, but to no avail. Luckily, the rat is unable to harm Gabriel either.

Distracted by his tramping boots, the southern Dire Rat turns to see Fescue — and the unarmored wizard next to him. Charging in, the rat tears a hole in Bob's robes but does no real damage.



There's nowhere I can't reach.