Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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What is she wearing for armor?!
"Fuath! Finish her before she channels again!" pleads Z'hor'll. "Please!"
Fuath Troichean
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"B'lee' me! I bin tryin'!"
Cast Defensively, Combat Casting: 1d20 + 10 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 10 + 4 = 20 vs DC 17
Magic Missle Damage: 2d4 + 2 ⇒ (4, 2) + 2 = 8
| GM Woran |
You can see some kind of breastplate
Fuath: Sends another two magic missles. The cultist lady falls face down on the floor!
Cultist lady stable?: 1d20 ⇒ 17
Round 5
Fuath 33 damage
Cultist lady 58 damage
Z'hor'll 26 damage
Blobs
Gresh 11 damage
Z'hor'll is up! as bob the lonely blob is still alive in the fun ball
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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Z’hor Is less concerned about “bob” than himself, and as such, he casts another cure light wounds on himself, all the while praising Sarenrae and her servants.
CLW: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
no need to stabilize as the orb’s damage was all non lethal
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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Bob should be at 18 NL damage... 6 from the initial, and 12 from this round.
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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”Well, we made it, guys. ” says Z’hor’ll, as he approaches the altar. ”Survived another fight. Wonder if this guy is alive”
He approaches the person on the altar, but not before healing himself again
clw: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Fuath Troichean
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A wand pops into Fuaths hand from the wrist of his sleeve. He waves the wand for a good ~6 seconds, and taps himself. Some of his wounds slowly begin to heal.
He finds a safe, non-steamy section of the floor and lays down as the healing happens.
Gresh
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"That was quite the fight my friends." Gresh says with a toothy grin. Gresh will move over to Z'hor'll and then Fuath healing them both.
LoH Z'hor'll: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 6) = 10
LoH Fuath: 2d6 ⇒ (6, 2) = 8
"We were not asked to bring back prisoners. These cultists has received their just rewards. Kyra has been avenged. I, for one, am ready to finish our mission and leave this desolate place to the desert once more..."
Fuath Troichean
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"Aye, y'righ'! No pris'ners i' is!"
Fuath gets up, draws his battleaxe and approaches the cultist. With a firm two-handed grip, brings his axe down. Coup de grace
Battleaxe (x3) coupe de grace: 3d8 ⇒ (2, 2, 3) = 7
| GM Woran |
The cultist lady's head rolls off into a pool of lava.
Behind the altar lies the corpse of a dwarf. His chest has been sliced open in a ritual way, and his heart has been removed.
A Z'hor'll examins the body, he can feel the eyes of the mural bore into the back of his skull. Even tough the room is piping hot, it gives him goosebumps.
Gresh
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Gresh will walk over to the corpse of the fallen dwarf and try to determine whether he was a member of the cult. If not, then he will carry the dwarf and Kyra out of the Citadel.
Perception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (7) - 1 = 6
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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”Hey, guys, do the eyes of the mural seem odd to you?” asks Z’hor’ll.
He walks to the eyes, and looks closely at them.
perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
Gresh
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”What eyes? I think you are getting dehydrated water man. Let’s get out of here.” replies Gresh as he picks up the dwarves corpse and moves towards the stairs.
perception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (10) - 1 = 9
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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”No, I don’t think so!” says Z’hor’ll to no one that the others can see. ”I am quite alright not burning up.”
Fuath Troichean
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"Wuh's wrong wi' ye, fishy? Snap ou''a i'! We're goin'!"
Fuath smacks Z'hor'll on the back and tugs his clothing to indicate that he's leaving with Gresh. He will wait to ensure that Z'hor'll follows.
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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Z'hor'll looks around the room for anything valuable, as he tries to throw off the voice in his head. "Hey, what was that for, Fuath?" shouts the undine when smacked.
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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Z’hor’ll looks at the idol, and if small enough to carry, tries to lift it out of where it is.
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
kn:religion: 20 + 7 = 27 once per day take 20
Gresh
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Gresh will wait at the staircase with the dwarf body until Fuath and Z'hor'll stop looking strangely at each other.
| GM Woran |
The statue is definitely an idol of moloch. It also looks a lot better then the statue you found downstairs. Finer detail, and the weapons it holds look to be copies of Molochs own weapons.
Something must have been done to the statue to make it spew lava. It doesnt look to be a mechanical trick. Looking into the mouth of the statue, you see a small portal, from which the lava flows.
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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"Fuath, Gresh... this is pretty interesting." says Z'hor'll, as he tried to determine whether he can safely take the thing out. He casts detect magic and focuses on the idol.
kn:arcana: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
spellcraft: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
"If we only had some fireproof gloves. Did we find any potions or rings or anything that would help take this out? It is too big for mage hand..."
"Maybe I can use my hydraulic push or something?"
Gresh
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"Wha? You want to take that lava spouting idol back to town? That seems like not the best of ideas. Even for you, Z'hor'll." says Gresh, as he drops the dwarven corpse and walks over to the idol.
He then takes time to look over the whole of the idol to determine if there is any way to remove it from the altar.
perception, take 20: 20 - 1 = 19
"Either of you caster's look at this idol with mage vision? It is certainly magical, but I am not school in the arcane arts."
"Did anyone see a lever downstairs that might turn this thing off? Hopefully we do not need to perform some sort of Moloch ritual to turn it off."
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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"Of course, we could just carefully take it down, pointing the spewing lava away from us, and walk back to the coast. That'd be a riot"
Gresh
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Gresh says, "Looks like these arms move...." as he pulls both arms into a downward postion.
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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Z’hor’ll cheers at Gresh’s discovery. ”Ok, lets get out of here!”
Fuath Troichean
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Looking at Gresh and Z'hor'll in confusion, "Wich one o' ye' be whisperin' t'e me abou' joinin' ye? Wur alrea'y on t' same si'e! Now lus ge' dah' i'ol ou''a here!"
Gresh
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Gresh ignores the voices, takes the idol and the dwarf corpse on his way out of the room.
”I agree with Z’hor’ll for once. Let’s get out of this crazy place....”
Fuath Troichean
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"I swear some'in' be wa'sshin' us. I won' be joinin' i'. Now lus gooo!"
And Fuath begins walking towards the door.
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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Z’hor’ll starts humming to himself, getting louder and louder, as he attempts to drown out the voices.
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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Z’hor’ll follows the other two out.
Fuath Troichean
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ohmahgosh! Just barely! Like twice! Thanks for running, Woran! And for giving us a run for our money!
Z'hor'll B'bblebr'x
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Thanks for the game! This was a tough one!
Once back to the coast, Z’hor’ll spends as much of his time as possible soaking in cool, cool water. And giving Gresh wet-willies.