In the final moments of his bloodlust, Meraxilar's axe comes around once more to meet his incoming foe (assuming it's the one in E20).
Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21 Using Fury once again and last round of Rage.
Damage: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
|Tal Bernard Mainz|
AOO 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12 missed again...
Seeing that Calseinica is safe for now, Tal continues to focus on drawing the ire of the abominations before him. By The gods, come on and fight. Quit running away.
5ft to E19
Powered expertise attack on D18. 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Damage 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
Hey tark, could you label the lemurs? I am not sure if the one Pollux bollixed is still up and squelching.
If it is: Continuing his strange arrhythmic laughter the vagabond prince stretches a hand towards the thing attacking Xarem.
Misfortune (dc 15)on the indicated target. Unless he drops it. In that case please target one of the things attacking Caldazar.
If it is no longer with us: Pollux ceases to laugh with something between a chortle and a sob. He reaches into a pocket and tosses some black powder into the air. The powder orbits his head for a moment before forming into a handful of needles that fly towards Tal. The slivers of iron slice through his armor and helm before driving themselves deep into his body.
Moments later Tal's armor groans as it expands to contain his engorging form. Tal finds his mind clear, his body whole, and the world smaller.
Or at least he will. Blasted full round casting times. Casting Enlarge Tal.
The one directly in fron of meraxilar was the one in question. It is dead now.
The music playing below you crescendos appropriately as Meraxilar and Tal fell another foe. Caldakrona's steadfasy defense holds up as the creature has difficulty landing a claw on his wounded flesh. Meraxilar's other potential victim is much more fortunate and the distracted psychotic is cut sharply by a pair of rending blows from the oozing mass while Tal's problem finds itself continuously stifled by the mans thick armor. Tal looks on in alarm as his skin is thoroughly penetrated and he feels himself begin to expand like a balloon.
GROU IS UP!
|Tal Bernard Mainz|
Delaying till after Pollux so enlarge takes effect...
Once the enlarge takes effect Tal would like to occupy CD 19,20.
5ft to CD 18,19.
The newly expanded form of Tal takes center stage as he takes up most of the center stage towering over everyone. His normally large shield appears to be the size of a barn door compared to everyone else around him. Taking aim with an axe to rival Meraxilar's, Tal levels it towards the fiend threatening his companion. Connecting, the blow hopefully allowing Meraxilar some breathing room.
Power attack with expertise on Devil Lemure 3 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Damage 2d6 + 7 ⇒ (2, 1) + 7 = 10
Come on bring the pain. There is more if you wish.
AC: 24 now from enlarge.
Coming out of the rage, Meraxilar begins feeling the pain from multiple wounds. He digs his heels in (fighting defensively), and swings his Greataxe with ferocity.
Attack: 1d20 + 4 - 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 - 4 = 19
Damage: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7 (using Destructive Smite)
Current AC: 19
Current HP: 4
Stepping away from her daughter, Krona retrieves a potion as she ruminates "It disgusts me that something so foul was spawned of my loins. I will end you daughter.." quaffing the held fluid and feeling some vitality return to her core.
5ft back to H,16 - retrieve potion, drink potion: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
The meatsack focuses his laughable will on the egg-thing fighting Merax. Reality twists and fractures around its strange perceptions.
Misfortune on lemure 4 or 3 if four is dead, not 100% sure who is alive or dead. A fitting problem for Pollux.
If egg-thing fails save: [ooc]The strange laughter once again fills the stage. Drawing a smile or setting your teeth on edge, changing moment to moment.
If egg-thing made save: The meatsack draws a potion flask from a hidden recess. Merax looks like he might need a drink.
The egg thing seems to ignore Pollux's insanity it's sheer single mindedness being drawn by na inexorable will. The groups hacking axes make nasty work but the lemure's remain strong as their gelatinous bodies deflect the worse of the groups vicious blows. Tal's victim turns to a puddle of slime as Meraxilar focuses his attentions on the one immediately next to him.
The lemure's continue to ineffectively scrabble at shields and armor and as MEraxilar takes on a more defensive posture Kronazar retreats and downs a potion just in time to save himself as the creature catches his exposed neck with a ferocious claw swipe 8 damage total from two hits one critical
GROUP IS UP!
As more blood stains her form Krona is suffused with the bloodlust of her people. Holding her morningstar high like the blade of a guillotine, she brings it straight down in a executioner's strike at her child...
Morningstar: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19 for 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5 Sigh... DR 5 bites when nothing we have can actually bypass it, and we tend on the anemic hitting stakes.
|Tal Bernard Mainz|
None of the little blitz had hit Tal yet and his friends were dropping around him. Realizing that the best defense for them is to go on the offensive, Tal changes tactics. Moving away from the creatures, (provoking attacks as he goes AC 22) Tal goes to flank the creature that Meraxilar is fighting as well. (DE15,16) Once there Tal drops his shield, free action and grabs his axe with both hands for a two handed chop.
Power expertise two handed attack 1d20 + 3 + 5 + 2 + 1 - 1 - 1 ⇒ (5) + 3 + 5 + 2 + 1 - 1 - 1 = 14
Damage 2d6 + 7 + 3 ⇒ (6, 5) + 7 + 3 = 21
To hit +7 for AOO
Hopefully that hits because that is a lot of damage.
Meraxilar smiles at the Gorumite with approval after he watches him drop his shield. "Now you are a true Gorumite! Strength over Strategy! All you need now is a larger axe and a new outlook on life and we could be brothers."
Attack: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 4 + 2 = 18
Damage: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15 Using Destructive Smite again.
If Meraxilar drops his opponent, he'll move to F17 to flank with Caldazar.
Pollux steps back as Caldazar's blood splatters his costume.
5' step to H,-19.
A small crossbow emerges from between two layers of gore.
Move action to load.
The trigger catches on a stray tassel and with a soft thud the bolt punches through the stage inches from Caldazars foot.
Attack with crossbow, 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11. Sigh
Caldazar's weak blows continue to be ignored by the tough outsiders and as the gooey mass corners him in the back of the stage it seems he too will be a sacrifice to Milani.
However as Tal slams a massive axe into the back of one of the lemures splattering gore and ichor across Meraxila. The mad priest twirls his massive axe seeming like the scything claw of a terrible predatory cat. His axe cleanly shaves the top of the creature's gooey body right off hardly feeling the resistance.
Pollux's antics do little more than to amuse the crowd as they can not seethe true warping powers of his madness and there is a laugh from the audience as it seems that the first real action he has done was completely ineffectual.
The last lemure is panting from exhaustion as the illusion of Petronicus continues to attempt to batter away at him with an illusionary staff. The creature ignore Dentris's cursing ans swinging and gives half hearted scrapes with its claws at Tal's armor making it fairly clear that the little mindless ball of hatreds heart simply isn't in it anymore.
GROUP IS UP!
Krona spits on the still steaming corpse of her child before stalking over to hopefully assist Tal in ending the last of their foes...
Aid Another (Attack for Tal): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
...though the half-orc slips on the accumulated gore on the stage and is unable to effect her intent.
Move to F,16 - then attempted aid another on Tal's attack
Um, tark which Lemure is still alive? I need to know as if it has already saved vs. misfortune it is immune til tomorrow. Sorry to be a pest about this and I do try to keep track on this end but with movement between maps it is worse than the pea and shell game. Also I don't see the issue fading as hexes scale and there are several that are once per day. Sorry.
|Tal Bernard Mainz|
AOO for moving through threatened area for Tal?
Taking advantage of the long reach Tal tries to cut the creature down as it moves to attack him. The creature is too quick and the low misses completely.
AOO 2-handed Power attack with expertise 1d20 + 5 + 2 + 3 + 1 - 1 - 1 ⇒ (3) + 5 + 2 + 3 + 1 - 1 - 1 = 12
damage 2d6 + 7 + 3 ⇒ (2, 6) + 7 + 3 = 18
Forming a conga line and being upstaged by four different people on stage does not sit that well with Tal. The only way to solve that problem is by removing one of the 'actors'. Moving to flank the pile of goo, Tal unleashes another titanic swing upon the last creature of this 'trial'.
2-handed Power attack with expertise 1d20 + 5 + 2 + 3 + 1 - 1 - 1 ⇒ (19) + 5 + 2 + 3 + 1 - 1 - 1 = 28
Damage 2d6 + 7 + 3 ⇒ (4, 3) + 7 + 3 = 17
This swing is more accurate and the blow cleanly cleaves into the body, dripping ichor falls to the stage floor with a hiss as the last of the combatants are put to rest. As the body slides part into two pieces, Tal nonchalantly reaches over and grabs his towershield once more.
Yeah sry doesn't seem to matter at this point. I'll see about making some overlays to indicate what critters are under what hexes.
For a moment their is some embarassing silence as Ilsandra cowers in her corner of the stage away from the brawl. Haanderthan ends his revelry as he looks back in disbelief though you see a snarling scowl underneath the hood when it's turned away from the audience.
Finally in a whiny bark Calseinica squeals her line and reaches out with a perfectly manicured hand glistening with cold sweat.
"No! My child! Forgive me! You’ll pay for this, Haanderthan - with your heart’s blood, and with every shred of your soul."
With this the curtain drops, illusionary Detris disappears and nervous stagehands emerge with mops and brooms as they try to clean the gore. One only manages to add to the mess as he misses vomiting into his bucket.
Pain... pain and emptiness filled Caldazar's mind as the curtain closed. Numbly he looked down at his blood stained morningstar and could feel the flaking makeup upon his face. Coughing up a mouthful of bloodstained phlegm he spat it into a pile of lemure remains. Shuffling off the stage to one side he retrieved the ever-emptying wand of healing and salved his hurt.
1/16 to start 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 and 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9 and 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 16/16 at end
5 charges left in wand.
He looked unto the others... and at least noticed that they fared somewhat better than he. No words are spoken, just a dead eyed and empty stare.
"Hmmm I like acting! Well not the vomiting and the dead people but the rest was quite entertaining."
Distracted bu his bright future in theater Pollux absently draws blasphemous sigils in the fresh blood.
Tark. Not so much who is under what hex but rather who has saved vs. what. This could get to be a pain so I would be happy to deal with it on this end I would just need the individual baddies numbered or something so I can keep a list.
|Tal Bernard Mainz|
Tal withdraws from the stage his head held high. Striding past while still enlarged from Pollux, Tal first steps on his foot and then looks down at him. A
Intimidate 1d20 - 1 + 4 ⇒ (11) - 1 + 4 = 14
One more act then it is your turn to see who screams in pain and anguish. We will see how my whip feels against your skin.
Tal will take a hit from the healing want once everyone is up and running.
1d8 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Speaking of the final act, Tal will take a look around and see what they have in store for the last act of combat for the troupe.
Perception1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
Meraxilar taps the giant with the wand healing some of his wounds. "Well fought, Tal. Even if it took another man to make you..... Potent."
After tending to Tal, Merax uses two charges on himself.
Tal: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6 ( Counting Tal's roll for two charges total on the Gorumite.)
Merax: 2d8 + 2 ⇒ (7, 4) + 2 = 13 (Also 2 charge).
If memory serves we used 8 charges on the new wand previously, so that makes 12 used so far.
|Tal Bernard Mainz|
Oops that as suppose to be Thesing that I harassed. Typing on a iPad isn't the best it auto corrected to Pollux for some reason and I missed ot on the preview. Hopefully it is correctable. Took off autocorrect so that shouldn't happen again.
Only need the one charge Meraxilar. Dont waste the second charge just for one hp.
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5 Caldazar's perform. Probably different but this will do for now.
As quickly as Pollux idly draws his blasphemies upon the stage they are mopped by the stage hands who are thankfully ignorant to the mad geometry Pollux's finger was tracing upon the unholy wood blessed by a priest of Asmodeus. Your eyes feel uncomfortable as you look at the spots where it was still feeling the mad sigils twisting into the grain and embedding itself into the wood for some incomprehensible reason.
As all of you take positions the air of anticipation and anxiousness brought on by the eagerness of completion has been burrowed, lashed, burned, vomited, and torn from your flesh in a very real and bloody fashion.
You are already one man down. The young Petronicus never had a chance to endear himself to you before he was devoured alive by a worm who was merely four inches long. And as each trial challenges you and your ability to remain physically able you now come to the penultimate act. A legion of devils await you and the crowd knows it.
The curtain rises to an audience on the edge of its seat. It's almost comical as you stand there in your trained positions aching and bleeding a little to watch as these pompous peacocks watch in fascinated horror as you subject yourself to torments and tortures that only the high ranking priest hood of Asmodeus would consider inflicting upon a human for the purposes of entertainment.
Thesing shoots back one last glare before he flew into his monologue.
His voice starts low, concern edged with frustration. "How can this be? Four trials broken, and still they prevail. Asmodeus smiles upon them. Does the Dark Lord truly know of my compact with the abyss?"
Haanderthan rises up from his middling monologue a look of concern crossing his features.
"It cannot be, or I am utterly undone. True or nay, I must try the last. I shall plunge their faith in pitch and acrid stew, and see if they hold to the cause."
He rises spitting fury and hate and hellfire with every syllable every breath is edged with the unrighteous anger of ten thousand devils. His finger shaking he gives an expansive gesture as he roars in mocking tones barely concealing his undying wrath.
"You sickly whelps profess undying devotion to one another! Another smoldering lie flung from your dark holes! You but conspire to confound this court and our Dark Majesty. ’Tis ye who contract with demon-spawn and seek my undoing, in service to some slimy mistress or master of the putrid abyss. Your vile benefactors have thus far warded off justice’s dark hand, but let us see if you hold steadfast before the promise of oblivion!!!"
The Illusive Dentris is next.
With an exasperated look Dentris turns to Larazod, "More? I cannot last. My old heart gives out. Go on without me, master. I served your father faithfully. Alas, I am found lacking in the face of his half-breed son. The challenges, ever dire, cleave my soul from me. May Asmodeus keep me."
Lazarod jumps as the image speaks. Apparently Pollux had forgotten the figment was there.
"No foolish talk, old wizard. Haven’t you claimed immortality a thousand times to any bent ear? Old Dentris Maltrada cannot die, ye said. 'I’ve eaten the heart of an ancient Red Wyrm, [chuckle] and warmed by his fire, my soul burns eternal.' Get up, my dear friend, more father to me, than ever any father was. Your duties are not abated. Your task is yet undone."
"Red wyrm, red worm who ate who's heart"
With a incredulous look at Tybian, "Why you shiny beetle! You quivering pall-o-dine of a sniveling young welp tuend demigod! You plump kettle!" His expression turning to anger he continues, "I’ll bring the all-encompassing powers of a thousand worlds crashing down upon your head! The keening song of dead gods warble at my command. I’ll leave your mind a tatterdemalion of a sad rag. Die!"
With steel determination, "Die, you say! Nay, not till I’ve seen the last oafish breath squeezed from your lungs by tongs of fire—you simpering Aro-din-din!"