Almost as the words leave Dorvin's mouth, he, Quillan and Nayce reduce the derro to a bloody pulp on the floor. The remaining ambushers exchange glances.
Suicidally insane, Am1 and Am3 move to flank Isari, shrouding themselves in darkness as they do so and blinding Isari and Rusty in the process.
The other ambusher wraps more shadows around itself and heads towards the lift.
That power only allows the basic attacks on a miss, by the way.
That power only allows the basic attacks on a miss, by the way.
OOC: When it comes to my turn, the only action I'll take is to go on total defense.
Amenephus has clearly had enough of this messing about!
Divine light engulfs the group in front of Amenephus and as it dies away, the party sees that one derro has been incinerated and the other is bloodied. In contrast, both Isari and Rusty feel energised by the holy power.
OOC:
If I don't post now I won't be able to for the next 16 hours. So here is what I'd do, assuming Derro Artillery 2 will still be in my walk range.
Move: to a square adjacent to A2.
Standard: Griffon's Wrath
Attack
Damage
If I hit, the target's AC takes -2 until the end of my next turn.
Amenephus ** spoiler omitted **
Unsure of which direction the next attack will come from, Isari enters a defensive stance.
Nayce runs after the fleeing ambusher and attempts to drag it back into the room with a shadowy noose.
Rusty advances with clearly menacing intentions on the crossbow wielders and misses.
Both artillery risk the wrath of the dragonborn as they shoulder their way into the room and open fire on Isari and Amenephus.
Nayce, clearly mistrustful of the derro, hurtles across the room and brings the create to its knees before him, bloodying it in the process.
Dorvin leaps at one of the ambushers and yells, "C'mon then, c'mon!"
Suddenly, Isari strikes into the haze surrounding him, hopefully striking the derro.
Even blinded, Isari's blade hisses home, just catching the derro while it is offguard. The cloud of darkness disappears as the creature slumps dead to the ground.
"Get back here ya' little back biter!" shouts Quillan at the distant ambusher before once again charging ahead with speed uncharacteristic of his stout race.
After a quick prayer, the divine charge running through his muscles pours out of his hands and fills his weapon for a moment, which begins to spark and crackle with electricity. With a heavy overhand swipe, Quillan crashes the axe into the derro after muttering his ancient oath.
Quillan's uncanny sprint ends in a blow which shakes the chamber. Sparks fly and lightning crackles into the ambusher as it is crushed into oblivion.
OOC: Again, I'll post out of turn so I won't hold the game back later on.
Move : to a square adjacent to Art2 (ideally E6), taking a path that would avoid Art1.
Standard : Dance of Steel against Art2
If I hit the target is slowed until the end of my next turn.
Restoring himself, Amenephus sends a blade of divine light lancing into the threatening, but bloodied, artillery.
Isari dashes over to the derro and slashes at it as he places his aegis on the other.
Isari's blow is enough to finish the A1 as ice forms in its wounds. The last derro drops his crossbow and heads towards the dropped bombard at Amenephus's feet. Picking it up, he shifts backwards, taking refuge behind the shield and glares madly at the party.
With an enraged roar, Rusty thuds towards the last standing foe and bloodies it with a single sweep of his blade.
In the distance, more disturbing howling can be heard.
Rev DM
Please, miss - Amemephus isn't bloodied any more!
Nayce sends his shadowy noose after the remaining artillery.
All
Nayce's attack misses, leaving the derro surrounded by enemies, but untouched and brandishing the evil bombard.
"Need a hand, Rusty?"
Dorvin's blow strikes only empty air. The derro cackles madly as blows rain around it, unable to break through its defenses.
Quillan moves in to try and finish the job, his ancient oath first on his lips before putting his axe to good use.
Amenephus circles round behind Rusty and uses Forgemaster's Flame on A2:
Forgemaster's Flame v A2 (AC) (1d20+9=27, 2d8+3=6)
Amenephus then expends an action point and hits him again with a basic melee attack:
Basic Melee Attack v A2 (AC): (1d20+9=17, 1d8+3=9)
"Today was your day to die."
The cackle dies on the derro's lips as Quillan swings hard and true. Bar the sound of the unearthly howling from the dark corridor, silence fills the chamber once more and the party surveys the scene of carnage before them.
Now, the emaciated bodies of the slaughters settlers are mingled with the abominable derro and their crazed weapons.
"What now?" asks Quillan while wiping the gore off of his notched executioner's axe.
"Somethin' in brewin' in these halls to be sure. I'm not thinkin' we're ready to dice into the depths just yet though until we're better prepared. Perhaps Nayce may be willin' to scout a bit though?"
"What now?" asks Quillan while wiping the gore off of his notched executioner's axe.
"Somethin' in brewin' in these halls to be sure. I'm not thinkin' we're ready to dice into the depths just yet though until we're better prepared. Perhaps Nayce may be willin' to scout a bit though?"
** spoiler omitted **
"I think some careful scouting may be well-advised, but first we need to find a place to regroup. A few of you took some nasty blows there."
"While we rest the miners can come to collect their dead," grumbles Rusty. "Then we go down and find more of these mountain vermin to squash!"
All
"Quick rest it is, but we can't be stoppin' just now. As soon as these grunts don't show their faces again then this place'll likely be crawlin' with the vermin. Fightin' a dozen of 'em was bad enough."