Seeing that the bug is far tougher than he would have thought, Tararr drops one of his axes doubling his grip in an effort to lay it low.
Can I fit in F5 and reach him? Can't tell if that's a legal space. Assuming I can get a shot at him...
attack DD reach
mah!
Karrak moves over to clear Chitleen and the whirling dorn-dergar crashes into the crumbling wall this time. Tararr however, tries for quality of attack over quantity and wielding the battle axe two handed, cleaves the giant centipede in two twitching parts that tumble off the wall.
Mankato just watches and tries to discern if there is a place for him to assist.
With Lockjaw preventing the centipede advancing on him, Daeron readies his longbow and looses an arrow at the chitinous vermin.
"That's how ya do it,boys!", Tararr roars, iccor dripping from his face and axe.
Round 2 Init 14
HP = 20/34
AC = 19/8/19
SR = 8
Weapon Equipped = Mwk Cold Iron Dwarven Waraxe
Speed = 20'
Lay on Hands/day = 3/3 (1d6)
Smite Evil/day = 1/1 (+2 hit, +3 damage, +2 deflection AC)
Status Effects = Enlarged
Feeling the sting of the centipedes bite Lockjaw ignores it and swings his enlarged axe at the wee beastie.
Round 2:
Mouth thinning into a disapproving line, Chitleen attempts to erase his failure...
Talwar: for
Crit Conf: for
...and his strike is accurate enough - though lacking for power. He then withdraws a step to allow others better equipped to fight.
Daeron CL check
Lockjaw drives a mammoth axe into the oversized centipede and by the time Chitleen pierces it and dances back, it is already dead.
Chitleen pokes the centipede once more with his toothpick sized blade to ensure it's demise - before turning his eyes to the newly opened basement below them...
Perception:
...fearing perhaps that where there are two...
Daeron stands at the rear, away from any spray of centipede ichor as experience tells that it usually stank, as Chitleen's and Lockjaw's blows cracks chitin.
Not that it'll matter to the dwarf but the sweet smelling elf would find it difficult to wash in these parts.
Daeron approaches the cleaved centpedes with dagger in hand and vial in another.
As Lockjaw pulls his giant axe from the monster's shattered head, the jaws pulse spasmodically spilling clear fluid and venom. Daeron carefully drains a venom gland and peers at the deadly substance in the small glass vial. Chitleen surveys the basement which is nearly as rank as the other, but sees no further threats.
Daeron gestures to Chitleen, as the desert elf sheathes back his curved sword.
Brother, the effects of the vermin's venom is deadly indeed. I would look upon Lockjaw and see he still has yet to absolve himself of its toxins. Samples of it would prove useful for our arrows.
"Looks like that armor of yers let one through, beardling." Having been well travelled, this is not the first run in with a monster such as this for the dwarf. Taking a closer look he attempts to see if he can extract some of the venom from the wound.
Seeing that the bite is far beyond his limited knowledge, Tararr calls thecleric over to take over. Moving to back to his kill the warrior retrieves his dropped axe. "Karakk that wound looks mighty viscious. Though,I am not sure if it is made worse by 'is lack of washin'."
"I've told ye fer the last time, ye call me beardlin' again and ye'll no wake tomorrow."
Lockjaw appears to have shaken off any further lingering effects of the venom and is back to his surly self.
Karrak grabs Lockjaw's canteen, confident that whatever is in there is strong enough to sterilize his wound, and pours some on it.
heal (treat poison)
Grimacing at Karrak Lockjaw gently takes his canteen away.
"I'm blessed by Torag Karrak, no foulness can harm me, there is no chance of disease."
"I've come ta realize Torag has sent ya ta test me Tararr. Ye dinna respect me and ye go inta battle dressed in wimmin's clothin'. But ye'll nae sway me from ma task."
"Speak in that insolent tone teh me again an' I'll finish what the bug couldn't. Makin' threats against one like me is a sure route to quick death. Inna gonna be any test to it.", Tararr finishes eyes bulging with a growing fury.
"Save it for the bats and hyenas. If you feel like fighting, Torag knows there's no shortage of foes."
"Yer as crotchety as me mum and Torag knows it! I seen yer heart and ye ain't evil and that's why we ain't a fightin' now! Ye don't disrespect ma beard and I won't disrespect yers!"
Scrunching up his limps into an approving frown, Tararr clasp the other dwarf's arm in firm shake, "Agreed. Now let us get ta bashin' some gnoll skulls fer what they done here."
Lockjaw claps arms with Tararr.
"Agreed."
"What'er ya'll lookin' at? We got gnolls ta crush!"
Once the beard pulling subsides, the party gets back to considering their circumstances. The lower gatehouse is obviously too ruined and unsanitary even by present company's standards to serve as a shelter. At least the upper barbican towers are clean though hard to tightly secure without supplies and the skill to refortify the ruins.
Perhaps a mid-level chamber in one of the towers would serve, but you'd have to stay on guard against gnolls during the day and werebats at night. It is some consolation at least that they apparently will not be working together.
At the end of the dwarves display, Chitleen whispers to Daeron in Elvish "I am not an expert on Dwarvish customs... is this a prelude to coupling? Should we give them some privacy?"
Then aloud and in Taldan "The basement here is as foul as the other. Neither would make for a competently defendable structure... it would seem that the place we have left behind was a far better place to rest than we have found to date." sighing and looking back to the mine's entrance "Should we risk an entry within... dwarf make is lasting, perhaps we would find a defensible bolthole to make our own... but then we would face the threat of being buried in it."
Wiping his hands clean on his clothes before taking a swig from his canteen "We have found three sets of enemies thus far... all of which seem to want us dead. If only there were means to turn the one against the other."
"It matters not, elf. There be a whole ton of them bastards in there an' now they are well aware we're out here. So I'd we best be movin' soon or we aren't likely ta have much of chance."
It matters not my kin, for the two of them together is an excuse for us to keep our olfactory senses sane by staying a distance away.
Continuing in Common, Daeron adds.
There are enemies aplenty for both of your axes to bite into, Lockjaw and Tarrar. With werebats around, we should make sure silvered weapons are at hand. The gnolls look like dangerous archers and the undead need a strong arm to hew them through.
If we are to stay here for a while, a map of the are is useful should we start clearing up the entrance and upper levels. Finding the werebat's lair and the gnoll encampment would be useful too.
"Ye don't have ta worry about the strong arms unless ye be speakin' of yerself, elf, I dem arrows of yer's are plenty viscious. I seen 'em maself. Clear it we will, but it inna goin' to be easy."
Mankato just stands and watches all the actions going on and stays out of the way. If he is needed then he will step forward again. The dwarves seem to have some sort of competition going about beards.
"Both the gnolls and the werebats know we're about. I would like to find a place more hidden. Trollsplitter, you've been in the mines. Do you think we could hide ourselves somewhere? How many of those gnolls are there?"
Measuring all words spoken "Well I would hold Tararr's advice about dark and foreboding holes as gospel... he is somewhat experienced in that pursuit. Therefore it seems that a further review of the surrounds is in order... see if we can find a lair that has a solid roof above it."
Plates of stone clanking together, Lockjaw waits for a consensus.
Too much thinking.
I will go where the party goes. I am not one who has trained for such situations but it seems wise to find a less noticeable location to secure for our base of operations.
"Them gnolls don't seem no more put together than any other thing in them caves far as I could tell on the way ouy. Looks like they just been settin' up for raids and not takin' advantage of them gifts they was given. I'm pretty sure we can set up shop here wit' little trouble after we squash a few heads."
Moving back up to the barbican, you take in the ruined fortifications once again. Glancing across the small courtyard and up the height of the great T-shaped opening, you see that the opposing battlements are accessed only from inside the mine. The portcullis looks heavily damaged; wrenched up to hover about a yard from being totally closed. It doesn't look like it will move either direction without a team of engineers.
The towers at the gatehouse are probably your best bet for shelter. Although no doors remain to bar entrance, at least you will have solid walls around you.
We shall take what is available to us. A cursory look would provide ideas for further improvement. The tower yonder by the gatehouse, how does the inside fare?
"Solid as any dwarf, no doubt about it. I am sure it would make a fine hold."
Chitleen sleeps lightly tonight, keeping his bow and quiver well to hand...
Lockjaw quietly sets up his lair, regretting that Tararr is going to wear the fine chain coat he had previously planned on using as pajamas.
doing this on my phone so forgive the formatting. healing wave before sleeping.
"It'd be best ta have the best fighters awake when them bats come back. I say we take the night shift, Stoneshield."
anybody need further healing?
Though the sharp eared among you think that perhaps they catch the sound of flapping sometime in the night, you are undisturbed. The next morning dawns cool and clear and you wash down yet another meal of dried rations for breakfast.
Chitleen rises to stretch his weary bones and dream of a steaming hot cup of chai to soothe his mind. As he chokes down another dried pile of so called food, he ventures "Do we within? Risk the halls and see what remains of once great Tar-Urkatha?"
"Aye, I'm sicka bein' ambushed without ma armor on. Damn bats and festrog and other such nasties."
*spit*
Mankato finds a nice spot and works with the group on making the place as comfortable and secure as possible.