Motteditor's Module Madness PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

"It's beginning to look like a long night. I come to town to rest!" The half-elf moves as she looses an arrow at one of the devils. "Attack, the other," she commands the wolf.

bite: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9,nom: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3 plus trip: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15
Wolf's speed of 50 ft. AC is 14. hp -2
thwip: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19 (cover?)arrow: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Shackleton's heavy strides skirt around the devils, leaving himself open for a moment before bringing his mace upside the creature's head. Move provokes, then attacking from the flank.

Light Mace (Flanking): 1d20 + 6 - 1 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 6 - 1 + 2 = 27 Damage: 1d4 + 1d6 ⇒ (4) + (2) = 6
Confirm: 1d20 + 6 - 1 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 6 - 1 + 2 = 15 Additional Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1
Prescience Reroll: 1d20 + 6 - 1 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 6 - 1 + 2 = 23 Additional Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Is Shield of Faith still active? I assume it would have about a minute or so remaining. AC 20. Also my mistake RE: the map, getting my games mixed up.

Impatient though worried at the numbers of their enemies, Ingrid moved as swift as her stubby legs would take her to closer the gap with the enemies. Next to Shackleton, she was unable to get a strike in this time around, though she would give the creatures pause with her presence - or so she hoped.

Double move into melee with the enemy.

One minute left on SoF seems about right.

Ingrid moves up, selflessly introducing herself as a target as she jockeys for position to attack. She's followed by Lyra and the wolf, though neither are able to get close enough to do any harm, and Vegazi who stops for a moment to sheath her sword and scoop her bow back up. Basically, they're far enough away that they need more than one move action to get into position.

Shackleton takes a spear from the devil as he circles around it 6 hp, slamming his mace into its head, though as before the non-magical weapon seems to have its effect blunted. They have DR It spins and stabs him again, red staining its weapon from the gnome's blood. 7 more hp

Philgor advances, but the devil ducks just under the blow, only to screech as the splash from Argus' flask of holy water hits it, the cries of its companion joining it.

The gaav again closes on Argus, jabbing with its spear, but the lingering burns from the holy water seem to throw off its aim.

Argus does not like that his back is against a wall again, but he seems to have little choice in the matter. He contemplates the other flask of holy water, but decides to hold it in reserve a bit longer - there are still lots of devils about. He almost reaches for a bottle of liquor, before remembering that these devils do not burn. Instead he grabs a heavy plate, still laden with scraps, and flings it at the nearest devil.

Plate, point blank shot: 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 4 + 1 = 19
Plate, point blank shot: 1d6 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 + 1 = 8

I wish this was a nicer inn - it would really be helpful if that was a silver tray, instead of a pewter plate.

Again Philgor attempts to slam the devil.

Swing: 1d20 + 7 + 2 - 1 ⇒ (6) + 7 + 2 - 1 = 14 adding power attack and flanking

The swing goes wide. The tight quarters might be effecting his aim.

Fighting indoors is much more difficult than killing giants in the field. We never practiced with our weapons in the mess hall.

Yowch. I felt that.

Bloodied, but not spent, Shackleton exhales sharply, face growing red with exertion, and swings wide.

Mace: 1d20 + 7 - 1 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 7 - 1 + 2 = 11

Lyra mutters a spell and touches the wolf empowering its fangs with magic. The wolf attempts to bite the creature.

Lyra makes a desperate dive and roll to get to the bigger part of the room.

"By the holy green! What does it take to hurt these things? I can't even hit them."

bite: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 2 + 1 = 8, crunch: 1d6 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 + 1 = 5 plus trip: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 2 + 1 = 12

acrobatics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

The devils continue to dip and dive in mid-air, dodging attacks from Ingrid, Shackleton, Philgor and Lyra's wolf, though Argus finally manages to hit one with a plate, which shatters on the creature's head. Vegazi hits it with an arrow, but the small wounds seems to close up almost instantly.

The two devils both breath out a cloud of gas, one covering Shackleton and the other Ingrid, both reeking of evilness. DC 14 Fort save or be sickened 1 round Shackleton and 2 rounds Ingrid; this is a poison effect.

Argus hurls another platter. "Get away from me, you unholy buzzard!"

Plate, point blank: 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 4 + 1 = 24
Plate, point blank: 1d6 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 + 1 = 3

Another solid hit, but I doubt this one got past DR.

Circling around their back Lyra shoots once more, aiming for the devil who seems the closest to falling.

"GRRrrRRowrp!" The wolf growls and it attacks again.

bow: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 6 + 1 = 10, thunk: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
bite: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 2 + 1 = 13, crunch: 1d6 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 + 1 = 4 plus trip: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 2 + 1 = 11

"Father, your bow is not doing you any honors."

Philgor swings again and misses.

Smash + Power Attack + Flank: 1d20 + 7 + 2 - 1 ⇒ (5) + 7 + 2 - 1 = 13

At least I am keeping them busy

Unfortunately I can't throw the dice roller out the window like I can with real dice

Fort: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

Ingrid ignored the poison attempt on her, but she did not ignore the opportunity to counterattack.

Warhammer: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9 Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Man, dicebot HATES you guys!

The devils continue to almost taunt you as you flail at them, only Argus managing to contact flesh, though his plate seems to do nothing to hurt his target.

They continue their assault, one stabbing and clawing Ingrid 10 hp total and the other clawing Shackleton 4 hp.

"Nuts to this!" Argus mutters, while fishing out another burst jar. "Fire in the hole!"

Burst jar, point blank, throw anything: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 5 + 1 = 20

Same warning - take a 5-foot step back after your attacks.

Remaining ammunition - 2 Thunderstones, 1 burst jar, 1 holy water, and a few tankards and/or liquor bottles

Mace: 1d20 + 7 - 1 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 7 - 1 + 2 = 23
Damage: 1d4 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) + (3) = 6

Delivering another glancing blow, Shackleton staggers backward, severely bloodied but still standing. (4hp remaining)

Lyra looks at her quiver, wondering if she has enough for a fight this long. "Hopefully there will be a respite where I can bend them back into shape." Then she shouts at the wolf, "Oi Oi, stand back!"

"GRRrrRRowrp!" The wolf growls and it attacks again.

bow: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 6 + 1 = 19 thunk: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
bite: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 2 + 1 = 15, crunch: 1d6 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 + 1 = 3 plus trip: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 2 + 1 = 13

handle animal: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25 Successfully push the wolf to retreat DC 25. More importantly the dice does know there are double digit numbers available. :)

stab: 1d20 - 1 + 2 + 7 ⇒ (8) - 1 + 2 + 7 = 16

Philgor changes tactics and attempts to run one through but the tip of his weapon slides off the thick hide of the creature.

Lyra's arrow hits home I had you delay until everyone back out of combat but don't forget -4 for firing into melee as Shackleton hits a glancing blow and joins everyone else in falling back, though the wolf takes a slash from the devil as it tries to get away from it. 3 hp

The gaavs advance as you retreat, one stabbing and clawing Argus 6 hp, the other tearing into Shackleton, who falls over unconscious under the weight of his wounds. 12 hp total

Lyra tries to get another shot in. "Shackleton? the half elf asks and adjusts a step closer to the gnome.

The wolf howls in pain but attacks again.

bow: 1d20 + 6 + 1 - 4 ⇒ (19) + 6 + 1 - 4 = 22, thunk: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
bite: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 2 + 1 = 11, crunch: 1d6 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 + 1 = 7 plus trip: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 2 + 1 = 16
Did the delayed damage effect them (can we tell)? wolf AC 14, hp -5

Argus cringes as the devil moves forward, realizing what is about to happen. He raises his arms to guard his face from the impending explosion, getting his forearms bloodied by the devil's claws and spear.

The twin compounds coating the devil begin to fizz. "Son of a...!" THOOM! Argus's curse is cut off by the concussive blast that throws him backward against the wall.

If I'm reading the map right, Argus and Ingrid caught some of the blast, but everyone else should be safe. Devil is deaf, gets to make a save versus stunned. Argus is down to 10 HP.

If the devil is stunned, Argus will slip past it down the other end of the bar (since it can't make AoO) and get ready to administer a potion of cure light wounds to Shackleton. If it isn't stunned, he'll drink an extract of reduce person.

Stabilize (DC 10): 1d20 + 2 - 5 ⇒ (1) + 2 - 5 = -2

"...gurgle."

Seeing Shackleton go down Philgor decides to move towards his fallen companion and try to get the creature away from him.

move North 5 feet then 10 feet East.

Power Attack: 1d20 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (1) + 7 - 1 = 7
Damage: 1d10 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14

His swing still unable to find purchase the the fleet creature.

Ingrid catches the devil with her hammer just as Argus' alchemical brew explodes, the dwarf wincing at the noise 1 hp to Ingrid as Argus is thrown backward and realizes the creature wasn't stunned as he'd hoped. I'm assuming you're not moving here, Argus, as it's not stunned.

"Keep them off me," Ingrid calls, "and I can heal the gnome!"

Despite its inability to hear her, the nearest devil turns its attention to the dwarf, stabbing and clawing her 12 hp damage.

Philgor tries to get to Shackleton, swinging to fend off the devils as he goes. The creature turns its attention to him, not noticing as arrows from Lyra and Vegazi bounce off it. It savages the wolf, tearing into the summoned creature. 13 hp total

Lyra lets out a mournful howl as the wolf disappears, but wastes no time shooting the devil again.

"Father, guide my feather."
Wolf disappears
thwip: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20, arrow: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Argus tries not to panic as his serum takes effect and he shrinks to the stature of a halfling. He knows that he's becoming a smaller, more difficult target, but it's hard to keep your composure when your enemies seem to double in size.

Current AC: 17 Touch: 14

Now short enough to slip under the bar (it looks like he's next to the hinged bar top) so he'll take a 5-foot step to where he can use the bar-top as cover. He'll drink a potion of cure light wounds and try to figure out his next move.

cure light wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Stabilize (DC 10): 1d20 + 2 - 6 ⇒ (3) + 2 - 6 = -1

Shackleton ceases his twitching, but continues to bleed out at an alarming rate.

Philgor attempts to draw the creature away from Shacketon.

Bash: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12

I have run out of creative ways to say that I have missed

Philgor swings wide as Lyra and Vegazi pepper the nearest gaav with arrows, though again its infernal flesh seems to resist most of the damage.

Frustrated and starting to feel desperate, Ingrid steps forward and feints with her hammer, trying to create an opening for Philgor. +2 to Philgor's attack next round

Argus ducks under the counter, drinking his curative.

The gaav flap forward, both breathing out clouds of their noxious gas once more, toward Philgor and Ingrid. Both must make a DC 14 Fort save of be sickened 2 rounds; this is a poison effect.

Still ragged, but at least no longer actively bleeding, Argus weighs the other flask of holy water in his had. He wanted to save it for the tight masses of devils outside...but he can't seem to really hurt the devils inside and if something doesn't happen soon, the gnome is going to die.

He slips back toward the hall 5 ft step, diagonal into the space north of Vegazi and lobs the flask at the devil threatening the little gnome. (He's trusting Philgor and Ingrid to bring down the nearer one.)

Holy water, second range increment, point blank shot, throw anything: 1d20 + 4 - 2 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 4 - 2 + 1 + 1 = 12
Holy water: 2d4 + 4 ⇒ (4, 3) + 4 = 11

12 might hit touch, but in case it doesn't...
Scatter direction: 1d8 ⇒ 8

If you miss the target (whether aiming at a creature or a grid intersection), roll 1d8. This determines the misdirection of the throw, with 1 falling short (off-target in a straight line toward the thrower), and 2 through 8 rotating around the target creature or grid intersection in a clockwise direction. Then, count a number of squares in the indicated direction equal to the range increment of the throw. After you determine where the weapon landed, it deals splash damage to all creatures in that square and in all adjacent squares.

So ten feet to the southwest...that's a diagonal so ten feet only goes one square. Which would catch both devils in the splash. So if Touch AC is 12 or lower, he gets the one devil for 11. If not, he gets both for 5.

Fort Save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Sickened

Philgor still tries to draw the creature away from Shackleton.

Power Attack: 1d20 + 7 - 1 - 2 ⇒ (14) + 7 - 1 - 2 = 18
Damage: 1d10 + 7 - 2 ⇒ (9) + 7 - 2 = 14

Don't forget the +2 from Ingrid (though that actually finally hits, so it doesn't really matter if you do forget it). :)

"These quarters are too tight for me to be of much use," Lyra says and steps back. She unleashe another arcane shaft of energy that turns into a pack of dogs to distract the devil over Shackleton.
1d3 ⇒ 1
dog: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6, dmg: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

hah! Pack of one! hopefully it can provide flanking.

There's a wall next to you, Lyra. You can't step out of range of an AoO.

d'oh. Thought I was going the other way earlier....

Lyra tries to get another shot in. "Shackleton? the half elf asks and adjusts a step closer to the gnome.

...

Lyra watches the claws of the devil take the opening her casting provokes. concentration: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 3 + 2 = 12 DC equals damage, let's hope it misses. :)

What is the +2 from?

What is the +2 from?

aid another, I think.

Ingrid used an aid another action last round to help your attack this round.

Stabilize (DC 10): 1d20 + 2 - 7 ⇒ (5) + 2 - 7 = 0 Getting a little nervous, here, dice-roller.

Ingrid, you still with us?

With Ingrid forcing an opening, Philgor finally is able to land a blow, knocking the devil into the splashing holy water, which proves to be too much for it to withstand. Seeing her change, Ingrid rushes to the stricken gnome's side and casts, healing energy flowing into the fallen warrior. converting command; +9 hp to Shackleton

The other devil's spear scrapes off Lyra's armor as she summons a dog, which snaps at the outsider. It spins and claws the canine, which yelps in pain as three streaks of crimson race down its side. 4 hp

Philgor smiles at this success and shifts to attack the last one.

Move to flank with the dog.

Choking up on his polearm he attempts to run the beast through.

Power Attack: 1d20 + 7 + 2 - 2 - 1 - 4 ⇒ (16) + 7 + 2 - 2 - 1 - 4 = 18
Damage: 1d10 + 7 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 7 - 2 = 7

Lyra stows the bow and moves in with her sickle. "I might distract it at least!" The pack of one continues biting at the half-elve's enemies.

5 ft. E to replace Philgor's flanking partner next round. Dog's hp -4

Argus breathes a sigh of relief as another devil collapses, twitching. From his diminished stature, he harries the remaining devil's legs with his baton, hoping to unsettle it so that the pikeman can land another telling blow.

Aid another for Philgor's attack.

Shackleton's senses return to him as Ingrid hoists him up, still swaying on his feet. He staggers toward the bar and props himself up between two stools, preparing to throw himself back into the ring despite the several quarts of blood loss.

Is there anything left I can fling on/behind the bar? Or did Argus collect it all?

Shackleton makes his way to the bar, where he finds plenty more debris available for him to throw but it proves to be a moot point as Philgor finally lands a solid blow and dispatches the devil back from whence it came.

As you quickly catch your breath, Ingrid urges you to gather close. She calls on Abadar and you can feel your wounds begin to heal. +6 hp to all Unfortunately, the respite is brief as you can hear a voice -- you recognize it as Isald Forgemore, the proprietor -- calling for help from the kitchen.

2d6 ⇒ (4, 2) = 6

Whoo! Back to 21/24 hp.

Argus rushes toward the noise. "No rest from the wicked."

Philgor rushes for the kitchen trying not to trip over the short Argus headed the same way.

Rushing into the kitchen, you find Isald desperately trying to extinguish a fire burning across a puddle of grease spilled over from the fire pit.

"Please, help me!" she cries out as sweat pours down her brow. "It'll burn the whole place down if it spreads!"

Even as you watch, you can see the fire begin to spread, leaping onto the table.

1d3 ⇒ 2

"What can we do to help? The lithe Lyra rushes into the kitchen next to Isald. She aids the woman trying to put out the flames any way she can. "Open the door, perhaps we can throw the burning table out before it spreads fire elsewhere."

"No water! That'll only make the grease spread further. Fetch a cloak and try to smother it out!" the gnome barks, trying to free himself from his buckler, pack, and coat so that he might be of assistance.