DM Bigrin's Second Darkness (Inactive)

Game Master bigrin42

Lefrik, don't forget weapon of awe.

Calla edges forward and fires four more arrows, this time over Lefrik's head toward the drider he's facing. Sorry, Brue, I don't think I have a shot for you.

5-ft. step to the north.
+1 adaptive composite longbow (rapid shot, point blank): 1d20 + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 = 21
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (5, 6) + 2 + 2 = 15
+1 adaptive composite longbow (rapid shot, point blank): 1d20 + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 = 20
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (4, 5) + 2 + 2 = 13
+1 adaptive composite longbow (rapid shot, point blank): 1d20 + 6 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 6 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 = 20
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (4, 6) + 2 + 2 = 14

+1 adaptive composite longbow, BOF): 1d20 + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 = 22
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (2, 5) + 2 + 2 = 11

Lefrik, don't forget weapon of awe.

Quevven hisses as the drider strikes him in the shoulder, going on the defensive while his friends face down the remaining fleshwarped abomination. "I'll cut you for that, traitor!", he roars, striking at the creature's hairy lower quarters.

Fighting defensively and using Combat Expertise to raise my AC. Total modifier of -6 to attack, but I get a +5 to my AC, raising it to 25 this round.

Attack: 1d20 + 11 - 6 ⇒ (4) + 11 - 6 = 9
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

As the flow of battle turns in the group's favor, Arca creeps forward to get a better look at the Drider in combat with Staryth. Frowning, trying to sense his way past the mutant's innate defences against magic, the Wizard draws on the blessing granted by Kelendra and fires off a standard spell from his repertoire without saying a word.
Four bolts of eerie, blue light impact the struggling Drider, punching holes in its abdomen!

Anklebiter stealth-moves to AI 24: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14
Spell penetration: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28. I am using the Blessing of Fervor option to cast Magic Missile as a Silent spell for 4d4 + 4 ⇒ (2, 1, 3, 1) + 4 = 11 unerring force damage.

Staryth slashes away, closed in on his foe.

to hit (With weapon of awe and BOF #1: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (1) + 15 = 16
dmg: 1d12 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

to hit (With weapon of awe and BOF #2: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13
dmg: 1d12 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16

*Smacks dice* BAD! BAD TIME to start this!

Hearing Lefrik grunt in pain, Kel blesses herself with greater speed and calls for healing strength as she rushes to his aid.

BoF, add 30' to speed, cast Cure Moderate Wounds, move around and heal Lefrik

CMW on Lefrik: 2d8 + 8 ⇒ (6, 6) + 8 = 20

Neither Bruendor nor Lefrik managed to harm their opponents, but Calla did enough damage for all three of them, her bow firing as fast as her magically enhanced arms could fit arrow to string. The purple limned drider staggered under the impact of four arrow shafts, and then again with Anklebiter's magical missiles. It rocked backward, visage covered with both blood and fury. Seeing its enemies all lined up in a row, it aimed a small piece of graphite and shot forth a lightning bolt. The other drider swung its bladed mace furiously at Bruendor, but the agile rogue easily dodged the swings.

"I see why you turned on House Vonnarc, traitor," Quevven snarls at the drider, dancing away from the beast's weapon. "You were always destined for failure." He stabs at the creature again, still keeping it busy while his friends finish off the final drider.

Well, no reason to do anything different this round. AC still 25.

Attack, fight defensively, Combat Expertise: 1d20 + 11 - 6 ⇒ (5) + 11 - 6 = 10
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

Man, these dice rolls are wretched.

Reflex, BOF bonus included. 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

The ulfen in drow skin snarls as lightning goes through him because his foe backed up. Again with the rolling away. Bah! It may yet cheat him of repeated hacks....
well, he needs to hit at least once.

to hit (With weapon of awe and BOF #1: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (17) + 15 = 32
dmg: 1d12 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

If second shot allowed as suggested:

to hit (With weapon of awe and BOF #2: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27
Dmg: 1d12 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

You should be able to get your full round of attacks on Drider-Man, Lef.

Also, I've been forgetting to use blessing of fervor as well. I'll take the +2 to attack and AC this round, not that it helps with my attacks any. That's now an AC 27 he needs to hit.

DC 16 Reflex save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

BoF: +2/+2

Kel turns her healing attentions to Calla after the lightning rips through them. move two squares east

CMW, Calla: 2d8 + 8 ⇒ (7, 3) + 8 = 18

Arca aims another volley of magic missiles at the Drider he tagged just now!

Spell penetration 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Magic missile 4d4 + 4 ⇒ (2, 1, 3, 2) + 4 = 12

... only for the spell to fizzle and fail as soon as it touches the mutant's hide.

Reflex (with Shake It Off): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Calla grunts as she takes the brunt of the bolt's blast, taking a quick step to the north to get clear of the line before sending another cluster of arrows toward the drider

+1 adaptive composite longbow (rapid shot, point blank): 1d20 + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 = 28
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (5, 3) + 2 + 2 = 12
+1 adaptive composite longbow (rapid shot, point blank): 1d20 + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 = 30
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (5, 1) + 2 + 2 = 10
+1 adaptive composite longbow (rapid shot, point blank): 1d20 + 6 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 6 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 = 10
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (3, 5) + 2 + 2 = 12

+1 adaptive composite longbow (BOF): 1d20 + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 + 2 = 22
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (3, 6) + 2 + 2 = 13

Anklebiter's magical missiles rained down on the purple fire limned creature. Lefrik cut down the wounded drider, leaving only one left. Bruendor and his foe traded ineffectual blows as a freshly healed Calla rushed to send an arrow into the creature.

Using BoF to increase my speed; moving to AA 11.

Arca uses the power of Kelendra's spell to propel himself forward with incredible velocity. As soon as he comes to a halt, he chants a spell that causes viscous grease to rise from the rock under the drider's feet!

At least Grease isn't subject to SR. Reflex save DC 16 or go tripsies, drider!

BoF: +2/+2

Kel moves forward and again heals Lefrik as she keeps her companions upright and fit for the battle.

CMW, Lefrik: 2d8 + 8 ⇒ (6, 3) + 8 = 17

"Calistria, heal your servant," Calla prays changing judgment to healing as she quickly launches four more arrows toward the remaining drider.

+1 adaptive composite longbow (rapid shot, point blank): 1d20 + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 = 20
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (1, 2) + 2 + 2 = 7
+1 adaptive composite longbow (rapid shot, point blank): 1d20 + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 = 29
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (2, 2) + 2 + 2 = 8
+1 adaptive composite longbow (rapid shot, point blank): 1d20 + 6 + 1 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 6 + 1 - 2 + 2 = 20
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (4, 6) + 2 + 2 = 14

+1 adaptive composite longbow (BOF): 1d20 + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 11 + 1 - 2 + 2 = 25
Damage: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (4, 2) + 2 + 2 = 10

The ground underneath the drider was covered with a sheen of grease, and as the drider tried to keep its feet, a pair of calla's arrows slammed into it. That was too much for the abomination to handle, and down it went. Bruendor tried to strike out, but hi rapier tip was deflected by the drider's carapace. Lefrik waited just long enough for Kelendra's healing to take effect, then charged forward to bring his axe to bear on the fallen drider.

Arca runs towards the battle, quarterstaff whirling, and lashes out at the Drider's head. Unfortunately the creature's flailing in the puddle of magical grease throws off his aim....

Arca to W13, giving flanking bennies to Brue Flanking attack 1d20 + 4 - 1 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 4 - 1 + 1 + 2 = 9 for 1d6 + 1 - 1 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + 1 - 1 + (5) = 10

Calla gestures toward the drow.

"Ill fortune favor you," she mutters.

Divine retribution (Reflex DC 17 for half): 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Lefrik cuts and hacks at the last drider

Bonuses included
To hit #1 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17
Dmg: 1d12 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18
To hit #2 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16
Dmg: 1d12 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

BoF: +2/+2

Kel moves to Calla and tends to the worst of her wounds.

Cure Light Wounds, Calla: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

With Arca and Staryth in melee with the drider, Quevven seizes his moment, striking at the creature with lethal intent.

Attack, using BoF to get an additional attack.

Attack 1: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (7) + 11 = 18
Damage 1: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Sneak 1: 3d6 ⇒ (2, 3, 3) = 8

Attack 2: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (12) + 11 = 23
Damage 2: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Sneak 2: 3d6 ⇒ (5, 5, 3) = 13

Attack 3: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Damage 3: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Sneak 3: 3d6 ⇒ (5, 1, 4) = 10

The final drider was in a sorry state. No allies, sprawled on teh cavern floor, and enemies all around. It looked about piteously as the attacks came, and though they were ill-aimed, they were enough to finish off the last of the abominations. When the killing frenzy had left, there were no foes standing to oppose you.

The driders truly were pitiful wretches. Other than the weapons they had obviously stolen, and the minimal blankets and foodstuffs they had carried with them in flight, they had nothing of value left on them.

"Maybe we should've tried talking," Arca says. "They might have become useful. Ah, well...."

"Maybe," Quevven replies as Bloodbane drank in the drider's blood coating it, the blade clean by the time he snapped it back into its sheath. "I'm not sure how we could have brought back proof of their demise to our superiors, though."

"Maybe one of them would have been willing to sacrifice a leg? I don't know," Arca says, sighing. "Come on, let's get some evidence and get out of here."

"Too late to cry over spilled wine now. Unless we want to try to bring them back and explain what happened," Calla says. "Hopefully this helps us and we can get somewhere."

Recover a few arrows, she waits for the others to be ready to go. I didn't track how many misses I had, so I just rolled 1d10 to see how many I got back (out of 21 fired); ended up with 3. I hope that's OK.

1d10 ⇒ 3

"Yes, foul creatures..." He cleans off his weapon. "Or poor wretches, either way, what's done is done."

"Let's be careful we don't assume we know what's really being tested, our skill or our loyalty." Kel looks sadly upon the creatures. "Let's return quickly, it will give them less to question and more to admire."

In a matter of moments, Calla had collected those few spent shafts that were still of use, and you were negotiating the narrow passage back. The scout looked impressed that it was over so quickly, but the soldier appeared less so.

"Got away did they? Had a hidden exit in the back? Well, the blame for that is not going on my back. Did you at least get an accurate count of how many were there?"

"Three," Arca replies, bluntly. "You can go in now and count them. They're too dead to hurt you."

"And the credit for those kills are not going to your name...whoever you are," Quevven replies to the soldier, a smirk upon his lips.

Calla merely smirks as her two companions manage to channel her vindictiveness for a moment.

Finally, they're learning...

"Know your place," she growls at the guard.

"My place is to do as my mistress directs, as is yours. Also, my place is to report on your success here. Too bad for you that the driders you were supposed to bring back alive were killed through your own stupidity. I will be sure to emphasize that bit when I talk with the Third Daughter and the Slavemother. Now, is there anything else you'd like to say?"

"Aren't you the one who said they needed killing?" Arca shoots back. "Something about them having blown their chances by running?"

Seriously, wasn't it this guy who said that? Or was it someone else?

You believed a DROW when you threaten his power base? Bwahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahaha!

Damn...

"Do you think our magics can't reveal the truth of your words?" Calla growls. "Perhaps you'd best think twice about the story you want to tell before you return to the Third Daughter and Slavemother."

Intimidate: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28

What's the reaction from the scout? Probably important to know before we figure out if the driders managed to kill just this soldier or both of these drow before we were able to stop them.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (14) + 13 = 27

The soldier just smiled at Calla's remark. "If you think that you can bully me, or strike fear into my heart, then perhaps the rumors are indeed true. Perhaps you are not drow at all, at least not real drow. Fugitives from a degenerate offshoot of the true elves, with no understanding of how society is supposed to work. Now, if you are done puffing up your neck hairs, little kitten, let us be back to the House before you talk yourself into more trouble. Oh, and in case it crossed your mind to do away with me, know that the guards will not let you return to the House if I am not with you, and in good condition."

The scout looked to the soldier with some agitation, but did not contradict or interrupt in any way. At the soldier's motion, he pointed to Anklebiter and indicated that he should accompany to the scout to verify the deaths of the driders.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (2) + 13 = 15

Also, I'm going to discern lies for the next few rounds of him talking.

Arca narrows his eyes at the soldier, but beckons the scout to join him.

"We'll be back shortly," he promises the others, and moves down the tunnel, back to the site of the driders' death.

"I can imagine," he tells the scout while they walk, "that this must be ... awkward. You may feel you are caught in a vice between us and that lickspittle trying to make a power play. Let me just reassure you, I hold no grudge against you."

Diplomacy 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

As soon as they come to the bodies, Arca grimaces with distaste.

"This is so childish," he sighs as he waves his staff around. "But oh well, needs must...."

You should not need any material components, as they're built into the cost of creating the staff: The creator ... must provide any focus the spells require as well as material component costs sufficient to activate the spell 50 times (divide this amount by the number of charges one use of the spell expends). Material components are consumed when he begins working, but focuses are not. (A focus used in creating a staff can be reused.)

Alrighty, then put on some George Romero soundtracks; Arca is bringing the undead a-shambling!

@Calla - you think that the soldier may be inflating his own power over you slightly, but not by much. He certainly sounds like what he is saying will be the truth.

Anklebiter took the scout to see the dead driders. The scout seemed perfectly happy to accept their loss, but Arca had another plan in mind. He pulled out a long, bone-white staff with a flaming end and pointed it at the nearest corpse and activated its powers. A wave of necromantic energies wrapped around Arca once before flowing from him to the drider. As it left him, Anklebiter could feel an oily miasma clinging to him, the evil of the spell, though used for good purposes, tainted his very being. The second time was easier on the goblin cum drow, and the third easier still. His shambling horde was ready to travel in a minute's time, and the scout looked pensive, even respectful at the display of power.

Arca leads the horde of three and the scout back out to the others.

"There," he says, his eyes fixed on the hostile guard's. "You can lead us back now. Walk right in front."

As if on cue, all three zombies train their empty eyes on the guard.

Quevven hid his displeasure at the reanimated driders as best he could, knowing that his friend was only using the resources at his disposal to make the best of a bad situation. "In fact, I see no reason why we can't come to a mutally beneficial arrangement here. I'm sure you don't want to be ordered around by the likes of him for the rest of your life. He strikes me as the sort that has no head for the game, willing to promise the stars to those that help him get ahead but offer nothing in return. I know I would remember those that help our station rise within the house, and help them achieve their own goals. What is it you want, friend?"

Assist Arca's Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

Kel narrows her eyes to slits and focuses on the arrogant soldier, with undead driders, a crazy goblin/drow, and a terrified scout as her backdrop, and acidly questions him in a Calla-ous manner. "Did you just insult my older sister, when she offered you a chance to recant?"

drow diplomacy: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (9) + 15 = 24

Your efforts to change the behavior of either the soldier or the scout come to naught, though the soldier did start to say something at the appearance of the driders. He choked back his words, however, and motioned that it was time to return to the House.

Your odd parade drew quite a few looks from those that you passed by. Necromancy was apparently not unheard of in the city, but the disgusted looks you were given showed that it was distasteful at best...at least to bring such creatures into the city proper.

As you approached House Vonnarc once more, the scout sidled up to Quevven and muttered, "Pastheos has no love for you or your friends, but that bit with the drider zombies..." He shuddered. "Anyways, he was just trying to get under your skin, maybe get some leverage on you. Now, you've turned the tables on him, and he is not the kind to take that and sup it down. Be on your guard.'

He broke off suddenly as Pastheos turned to survey the troupe at the gates. He called out the pass phrases, then said something softer to the watch captain. The gates opened, and you all passed inside. Pastheos directed Arca to deposit his charges in the stable for now, then left to report on the missions success. You were specifically ordered to stay with the undead driders until he returned, or sent word for you.

"Do we actually answer to him?" Arca wonders.

"And now a name to pair with my foe," Quevven replies to the scout, glancing toward Pastheos. "A loose end like him will need to be cut. I will remember this."

Leaning up against a wall in the stables, he looks to his friends. "Maybe, maybe not," he says. "But we stood up to his challenge, and possibly made him lose face. Is there any way we can determine who he's reporting to? I'd like to know which puppet master is pulling his strings."

"My scrying-spell has run out, and I am forbidden from casting such inside the House in any case," Arca replies.

He glances at the inside pocket where Magpie has taken refuge, and subtly shakes his head. "I'm worried that lickspittle may accuse me of taking her out of the room without permission now," he whispers.