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*Grumble* *grumble*
Initiative: 1d20[11]+1=12
Grapple Check: 1d20[18]+13=31
Knowledge Dungeoneering: 1d20[6]-3=3 "Milk!!"
Attack 1a: 1d20[11]+10=21, 1d10[1]+7=8
Attack 1b: 1d20[10]+10=20, 1d10[8]+7=15
Attack 2a: 1d20[11]+10=21, 1d10[7]+7=14
Attack 2b: 1d20[ 9]+10=19, 1d10[8]+7=15
"Milk Burns!!! Mommy no!! No more Habañeros!!! I'll be good!"
*Grumble* *grumble*
Initiative: 1d20[11]+1=12
Grapple Check: 1d20[18]+13=31
Knowledge Dungeoneering: 1d20[6]-3=3 "Milk!!"
Attack 1a: 1d20[11]+10=21, 1d10[1]+7=8
Attack 1b: 1d20[10]+10=20, 1d10[8]+7=15
Attack 2a: 1d20[11]+10=21, 1d10[7]+7=14
Attack 2b: 1d20[ 9]+10=19, 1d10[8]+7=15"Milk Burns!!! Mommy no!! No more Habañeros!!! I'll be good!"
yes 10 damage was to you
hmmm... weapons that hit need a reflex to save from being corroded so yes, make a reflex to keep the worst of the acid from you.
as a d8 is your monkiness and not your lizardyness I am ruling that is bludgeoning. correct me if I am wrong, but...
Milky spray splashes from the angered and hurt lizard folk. Droplets land on the walls, floor and ceiling.
int roll...dead last
run to Fang and try and remove him from oreo pudding(move + anti-grapple?)1d20+8=27
i beg forgiveness for so much late ness.. i have not been on in a while
. The creature is greatly harmed by the sparks of Urdock's arcane energy and Amar's staff sends waves through the creature. The staff quickly becomes too soft to use however as it dissolves into the puddle. Jaden steps up to attack the creature, landing what looks like a solid blow. The milky substance seems to part under the sharp blade. After a moment of stillness both halves of the creature quiver and move stretches milky pseudopods toward the monk and fighter who have to fight to keep from repeating the staff's fate.
1d20+8, 2d6+4, 2d6=24[16, 8], 11[3, 4, 4], [3, 3] 17 damage and make a grapple check fang.
1d20+8,2d6+4,2d6=[13, 8], [2, 2, 4], [2, 6] 16 damage and make a EDIT: Jaden is missed.
grapples: 38 v fang, 35 v Jaden1d20+18, 1d20+18=[20, 18], [17, 18]
your turns,but please tell me left or right oreo...
Urdock: do not cheat. Do NOT ROLL YOUR OWN DICE. CHEATING WILL NOT BE... just kidding :)
So 27 damage total, that takes me to 22 hps. I edited my profile.
Reflex Save (to avoid "weapon" damage): 1d20[15]+7=22
Grapple Check: 1d20[10]+15=25
Attack the oreo who attacked me:
1d20[15]+10=25, 1d10[10]+7=17,
1d20[2]+10=12, 1d10[3]+7=10
"ARGH!!! To much creamy goodness!!!"
Worried for his friend Urdok tosses another flurry of magical darts.
.
Fang and Urdock continue to splash bits of white and black speckled goo all over the place.
"I cant's run till me buddies er safe!"
"ARGH!!! To much creamy goodness!!!"
Amar pulls the sodden, limp end of his staff out of the milky creature. "'tain't natural! Run for it!"
Trying to figure who would most benefit from hsi magical darting, the swirling lights finally settle onto the ooze grabbing Fang. [ooc] I need to go back and reread somethings (and do some math) be caught up in a day or so but I think one half of the ooze is close.[ooc]
"I cant's run till me buddies er safe!"
Amar wavers, torn by an instinct for self-preservation and reluctance to abandon his companions. The dwarf's example decides the issue. He drops the ruined staff, grabs onto Fang and begins to pull.
Aid another -- anti-grapple 1d20=10
Milky substances leak from the half of the oreo ooze grappling Fang. It's quivering is not purely reflexive at this time though as it squeezes the monk. The other half, now it's own creature, squeezes the hero from Falcon's Hollow as well.
1d20+18, 2d6+3, 1d20+18, 2d6+3=[2, 18], [3, 2, 3], [16, 18], [3, 2, 3]
The two creatures morph and spread taking up nearly the whole room.
Urdok scampers around till he finds a clear line of fire towards the goo balls.
Grapple Check: 1d20[18]+15=33
Attack:
1d20[20]+10=30, 1d10[1]+7=8
1d20[12]+10=22, 1d10[5]+7=12
Confirm the crit:
1d20[11]+10=21, 1d10[5]+7=12
"There's got to be a pony in there somewhere!"
Grapple Check: 1d20[18]+15=33
Attack:
1d20[20]+10=30, 1d10[1]+7=8
1d20[12]+10=22, 1d10[5]+7=12Confirm the crit:
1d20[11]+10=21, 1d10[5]+7=12"There's got to be a pony in there somewhere!"
The smell of cooking cookies and burnt milk fills there air as Urdock unleashes electrical mayhem on the ooze. Fang manages to twist out of the way before the bolts hit, freeing himself just long enough to jump back in against the creature's other half. He manages to pull the creatures spleen from it, but then the organ dissolves into the familiar milky goo.
Seeing the oozing burns on the lizardman's scales, Amar steps forward holding his scrimshaw rod of the gods and calls upon Obad Hai for help.
Amar steps up to the monk and grants his divine touch, just before the remaing ooze reaches for the monk with its own touch.
Urdok bursts into motion finding another angle to throw a bolt of electricity at the two mobs.
Urdok bursts into motion finding another angle to throw a bolt of electricity at the two mobs.
Bolts of electrical energy course through the globs cooking and crisping one half while liquifing the other. Sugary steam fills the air and a white sticky puddle covers the floor.
Yes the oreo pudding is dead!
Unmindful of the individuals who seem to be showing more awareness than the semi-comatose state they had so far been in, Urdok begins to cast around the back of the room where the sugary goodness had resided before it attacked the party.
Unmindful of the individuals who seem to be showing more awareness than the semi-comatose state they had so far been in, Urdok begins to cast around the back of the room where the sugary goodness had resided before it attacked the party.
The death of the oreo pudding# results in an explosion. Walls, floors, doors, lizardkin, gnomes, humans, dwarfs, horse and even a leopard are covered in the white foamy remains. As it hits the white stuff sizzles everything it touches. Acid burns into everyone's skin eliciting more than a few screams. The room is suddenly seems crowded and very loud with cries and panic of the survivors--even those who have been camatose since pulled from the waves yesterday morning.
Will save DC 12
The acid of the creature does not last long once the creature is dead. The remains quickly expand to a fluffy substance. The burns seem less than superficial as no damage is dealt, especially after...
"Hey this stuff is kind-of really good!" shouts the cabin boy Tavey# ignoring his oxymoron. He has licked the fluffy substance from his face with the eagerness only little kids celebrating festival seem to have.
Seems the shock of being covered in burning tasty goodness finally broke the daze the large man had been in.
“Uhh... I feel like the floor of a town carriage.”
The large man seems to have gotten himself covered from head to toe in the white goo.
“This is never coming out of my mustache; I think we need a new cook.” Finally actually looking around instead of focusing on himself. “I’m not actually on the ship any longer am I?”
Rubbing his hands together in sheer happiness, both at the prospect of having a group of friends, and the fact that there is a whole new audience to hear his never shut mouth, begins to regale the others of his adventures on the island, all of which he was the major player in (at least in his version). With a sad look on his face he pulls out a very small cask of beer and a flask of rum which he mixes together the last of and passes out the drink to his new friends. "So ter begin wif I got on tha bad side of me pa, who sent me inter tha military ter straighten me outs. In tha college they forced me ter become a spellcaster. Along tha way I gots on the bad side o' tha matron of a house of ill repute. So I decided it was time to skip town fer a bit. I was hidin' on this 'ere island, but found out really quick tha' while hermitagery sounds all fun n' stuff in tha books, its really darn boring. Luckily fer me summin drove a boat inter the island and drops off me new best friends, ole Amar n' Fang. Thar were a coupla udders, tha love o' me life Cora, and a few strappin lads, but they were sorta "misplaced" along tha way. We is a tryin' ter get to a town on tha far side o' this hunk o' rock. Been fightin giant birds n' big mean lizards all over tha place. Talked ter a creepy chick tha' hung out wif spiders too. Then we walked inter this cave and found a bunch of goo that Fang punched a bunch and I kersploded wif a coupla lightnin' bolts. That about 'splain it all?" Urdok grins at them all rackishly, then pulls out one of his last cigars and begins to puff contentedly, as he begins to work out the goo from his goatee with a mustache comb.
heal check DC 10:
This room has two entrances. Behind the party is a massively heavy door which leads to a dark chasm and two bridges. From the right of there is a smaller closed door. To the left a huge puddle with a calm and tranquil surface. Originally milky in appearance--now that its sole occupant is a searching dwarf and no longer the ooze the party is wearing--the water seems much clearer.
Fang and Amar:
As waking people sometimes do when an alarm clock rings too quietly, Urdock's banter slips in and out of consciousness. However it is possible to peice some of the story into a coherant picture.
Well errr' me friend, speakin' o which none of us 'ad much in thar way o' cash so we kinder "borrowed" yer cash fer some rousing games o' cards in tha way o' bettin' money. Ye weren't much uvver game player, but ye made a 'eck of a table in the back o' tha wagon. Fang won every time so e' gots it all. Look et tha mug, ellava poker face." Urdok points at Fang's vapid expression.
"You, brave adventurer" the noble with the horse adds as much smear to the word as if was looking at a shephard's pie on Worm Fall Day, "were rescued from the waves. After that idiot captain drove the ship into that bloody reef!"
"To be fair," interupts the gnome druid, "the was a storm with eighty foot..."
"And having us all lie about just to be victim to those horrible fish," continues Avner.
"Eels." corrects the druid, Urol.
"The spines on those things! Longer than my blade they were!" At this the noble looks to the first mate Amella. "Well not that blade he says. He continues talking, expecting everyone to continue listening.
The woman ignores him, but she is more than happy to correct the story, with bits of added information from the druid and other survivors. After three months at see and the terrible storm the Sea Wyvern finally spotted the Isle of Dread. Shortly after finding land the ship entered the territory of another large island Emrag. A dragon turtle of unforseen size pipes in the gnome. After losing sails and many fine sailors to it, we finally escaped his bay. Only to be hit a storm of most unnatural strength. Demonic she adds using a sailors term referring to the chaos and fercoty the storm represents.
Captain Trey barely had time to find shelter for the Wyvern by grounding her on a reef. How was he to know about them mashers whose poison paralyzed everyone. And we did not even catch our breath before that terrible lizard starts eating people! She says this pointing at Fang and thinking of his introduction to the survivors. Now we are the only survivors. "Down to less than a dozen people." the mashers spines carried a poison which paralyzed its victims.
They newly wakened were among those poisened fortunate enough to make it to shore safely before the poison took hold.
"yes and your sanguin butts better get me back to civilization," adds the noble. "Avner Marivanchi paid good money for this vunture to he farshore. I bloody well better get rich from this."
Halga gives the noble a less than friendly glare. "I'm less concerned with yer moneh than with our lives."
He takes a long pull from Urdok's mix and let's the taste roll around his tongue. With a nod to the dwarf, he grunts and takes another mouthful. He listens carefully to what's been happening since he'd been ship-tossed and senseless. Under his breath he whispered a prayer to Hieroneous that he was spared for the chance at glory.
"Nuffa where we've been. Which way we headin' now then?"
Amar sidles around the outside of the party until he's beside Halga. "Good to see you, mate. It's not been easy being the only crewman awake. Passengers and officers all got orders they want carried out and just me to do it. It's been a rough passage. The dwarf-mage and the big lizard are all right though."
He slides a flask of rotgut out of a pocket. "Here, have a nip o' this. Don't late the Mate see you though. Truth be told, we don't know where we're going. After a couple big fights on the surface, we took shelter in this cave. There was a tunnel out the back that looked like it was going our way. We just took it."
Curaigh:
For a moment Cyrus is happy to be back with his ship mates before realizing that none of the people around him came from his ship. “This isn’t the crew of the “Geoff’s Hope” is it? I do thank you for bringing me with you and not leaving me for dead.”
Cyrus rejects the grog and opens his pack pulling out a seemingly endless supply of equipment. Donning his armor and strapping on his weapons as the others talk Cyrus takes in their story.
“Though I may not be from your boat or your crew I think I have a better chance of survival with you than alone on this island. Who knows I may even find my crew waiting on me somewhere on this island.”
With a sidelong glance to the first mate, Halga takes a quick swig on the flask. He hands the flask back and gives Amar a bearish grin.
"Not sure how ah missed all that. Well, now ya've got help wit the orders."
Halga checks his own armor and gear and looks to Cyrus. He extends his hand out to Cyrus. "Good ta have ya. I'm called Halga. This is Amar."