Phil's PFS Game (Inactive)

Game Master electricjokecascade

Guards Reflex Save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

Mexus bolts back into the distillery, and Becher and Alahazra slam the doors shut behind him. Moments later, there are twin yells of surprise and then the meaty sound of thudding as both guards collapse heavily to the ground. This is immediately followed by their cries of disgust.

"It's a grease spell, you idiots." Kretchmoor sounds decidedly unimpressed, though whether it's with the magic or his men is impossible to tell. "Crawl out of there and fetch some planks to lay over the area. You lot. Move to one of the windows. We'll force our way in no matter what tricks they play."

I'll say Fahim has had enough time by now to locate the grain alcohol and fashion three molotovs. It's now his turn. Also, style points to Bryan for his spell description.

How tall is the room? Is there a second floor? Is there a high window that can be easily reached from the inside, but not from the outside? I ask because it would be good to place for someone up high with a bow and bombs to rain down on our enemies.

Do we have an accurate count on the soldiers? Aside from Kretchmoor, it sounds like Lowen and Flago are at the door and two or three more are moving to a window. Can we see or hear which window they are trying to force open?

We could hear Dalard a moment ago. Is he or other Railfolk outside with Kretchmoor, or was he calling out from another building?

Fahim finishes his third and last makeshift bomb as he hears Mexus slam the door.

This will have to be enough, as the moment for action is upon us. I hope these damn things work. The grain alcohol was of excellent quality, but these rags are barely one step above damp washcloths. Still, there's an easy way to find out.

Fahim downs his mutagen (his dex increases by 4 and gains natural armor +2) and grips one of the alcohol bottles as he moves 30 feet closer to a front window.

"Someone pry a board off one of those front windows so I can throw this bomb outside. That is, unless you want me to just throw the bombs in here." His grim smile indicates that the latter option would not be a good idea.

The ceiling is high up, perhaps ten feet off the ground, but there is only the single floor. All windows are common in aspect, being about three feet off the ground, perhaps a yard wide, and with smoky, bubble-filled glass panes. The shutters are stout, and the iron latch within is durable.

There is no advantageous high ground, however, of that nature.

You do not have an accurate count. Your estimation as to the numbers you've detected thus far are accurate, but there could be others. You don't yet know which window they're headed for.

You can catch glimpses of the townfolk standing beyond Kretchmoor, but they're a bit too far for you to see through the cracks without opening a window properly.

Becher shoots Fahim a glance, and his eyes go wide. Without thinking twice, he unbars the front door and yanks it open, revealing the grease smeared entrance path along with Lowen and Flago, who are in the process of standing up slowly from where they've fallen about a yard beyond the door.

The window shutters seem strong enough to fend off intruders. With the doors blocked by a swath of grease, no one is getting inside even with them open. Fahim will have a clear... Hey! Someone always seems to be one step ahead of me! This is becoming a theme. Am I really so slow to react? Now is not the time to dwell on my shortcomings. The doors are open. Best not lose the opportunity to gain a clear shot.

Swinging the bow from his shoulder more gracefully than last time, he draws out and levels an arrow through the open doors. Kretchmoor is the target.

Masterwork Longbow(+bab +dex +mw), 20/x3 crit: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 6

Honus' arrow speeds through the air to thud into Kretchmoor's shoulder. The man lets out a startled cry and staggers back a few steps, and then furiously yells,

"Everybody! Attack! Now!"

Alahazra whips her sling around her head and loosens a stone at Kretchmoor as well.

Sling: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11

Her stone, however, sails wide.

Mexus, from the top!

Mexus raises an eyebrow as first Honus and then Alahazra fire their weapons at Kretchmoor …

Maybe cutting the head off this snake may be the best tactic. I just hope it doesn’t turn out to be a hydra …

A toothy smile crosses Mexus’s face as an opportunity to practically apply a favorite spell presents itself. Mexus steps down off of the staircase, and slightly to his left, so that he can get a good bead on Kretchmoor through the double doors. As he spies his now bleeding target, Mexus conjures the mental image of a host of demons falling eternally in a great tempestuous wind. Grit, blood, bone, and all manner of scraps of gear fly through the vortex with the demons, each being whipped about by the wind at different speeds in different directions. Collisions are common, and often catastrophic to the smaller of the two parties. As he pictures this, and gazes at Kretchmoor, Mexus exerts a sizeable effort of will while his hands weave a pattern of esoteric gestures. Red and orange sparks momentarily dance above Kretchmore’s head before they coalesce into a small portal about the size of a grapefruit. As the extra-dimensional link takes form above its target, a tremendous roar of wind, tinged with reddish light roars down on Kretchmoor. Grains of wind bourn sand and grit and well-worn bone shower down upon his head at hurricane speeds, abrading any flesh that they touch. And then, as quickly as the portal appeared, it simply winks out of existence; the will holding it open now spent.
Mexus heaves a deep breath, as sweat begins to drip down his brow.

It doesn’t look like Kretchmoor enjoyed even the slightest taste of Abyssal layer 665. I doubt he’d like the next layer any better …

Mexus casts Magic Missile targeting Kretchmoor.
Kretchmoor takes:
Force Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

A short post, because I lost the long one I wrote yesterday and don't have the patience to be as descriptive again.

Mexus' spell scours Kretchmoor's scalp, leaving it glistening and crimson as the man screams and throws himself aside. When the portal blinks out of existence, Kretchmoor continues to move, running to the side so as to be out of view of the doorway.

"Attack, you bastards, I want their heads! And bring me that mage! I'm going to make him eat his own -" His words cut off abruptly.

Meanwhile, Flago and Lowen, seeing the open door, fight to rise to their feet and enter the distillery.

Flago Acrobatics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Lowen Acrobatics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

They then stumble in through the door, ready to fight the next round.

Thuds and slams can suddenly be hard by the window in the distillery.

Damn, they're inside already. So much for not setting off bombs in the distillery. Hopefully Becher will forgive a mild singeing of his floorboards. Better a few burnt boards than his own shed blood. The matter is further complicated by Honus and Alharaza being within the blast radius of my bombs. Nothing worth doing is ever easy, is it?

Honus shifts his initiative to 8, so that he goes after Honus and Alharaza.

"Honus! Alharaza! Back up, you're too close to them."

Once Honus and Alharaza back up, Fahim dashes down the hallway toward Flago and Lowen, and hurls his makeshift bomb at the one within 30 feet.

[dice= "Lamp Oil" Misfire]1d20[/dice]. On a 1-10 the bomb fails to ignite.

[Fahim is at -2 for range increment, +1 for point blank shot, +1 for Throw Anything feat]
[dice= "Lamp Oil" Attack (Ranged Touch)]1d20 + 5[/dice] to hit the target’s touch AC.
Misdirection: 1d8 ⇒ 6 with 1 falling short and 2 through 8 rotating around the target clockwise.

[Fahim is at +1 for point blank shot]
Fire Damage: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7 and 5 splash damage to anyone in the adjacent squares.

Honus instinctively reaches for his sword as Flago and Lowen stumble inside the distillery entrance, but Fahim calls out, winding his arm back, poised to hurl his make-shift bomb. Changing his tactic, Honus instead grabs for another arrow while backing away from the two men. He takes aim at Lowen, who seems to be gaining his feet quicker than his partner, and looses.

Masterwork Longbow (+bab +dex +mw), 20/x3 crit: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 3

The guards have a touch AC of 13. The closest guard is also 35 feet away from Fahim, not 30. I'm assuming that just makes him miss even more. That also makes the range increment larger, meaning the miss is by 3 squares? Thus it hits the wall to their south west, as shown by the gold circle. This splashes down onto the Grease spell, setting it afire.

Fahim's bomb sails through the air, but arcs over the guard's head and crashes into the wall, where the grain alcohol lights with a whoomph, and then promptly sets Mexus' Grease spell afire as well, racing across the floor with blue fiery splendor.

Crying out in fear, Lowen turns and in doing so causes Honus to miss, his arrow sailing over the guard's shoulder.

Alahazra, having taken a five foot step back, whips her sling around her head and sends a bullet cracking in Flago's direction.

Attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Her sling bullet bounces of Flago's helm, doing him no damage.

Becher, seeing the flames racing up the wall and across the floor, lets out a yell of terror and runs toward a huge barrel of water. It's nearly as big as he is, and calls out, "Someone help me carry this to the fire!"

Guard #3 attacking window: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7 -5 Hardness = 2 damage
Guard #4 attacking window: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
Damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9 -5 Hardness = 4 damage

6 damage done to window thus far.

Mexus’s eyes grow wide as the mercenaries slowly cross the greased hallway towards the party, and he scowls as Fahim’s firebomb misses its target. Thinking quickly on feet, Mexus scrambles up the steps onto the catwalk overlooking the fight, his tail pulling free a scroll tube from his pack as he moves. As Mexus turns to look down upon the menacing mercenaries, he cracks the scoll tube, pulling free the parchment within. He reads the dozen or so arcane words written on the parchment, which releases the magical energy stored upon the scroll’s creation. Much like a moment before, the path before the pair of mercenaries is coated with a slick and viscous slime.

I have to hope that old adage holds true … if at first you don’t succeed …

Mexus casts the Grease Spell, Reflex Save at DC: 16 or fall prone, see spell for additional details

Flago Reflex Save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Lowen Reflex Save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Chance New Grease catches fire 50%: 1d100 ⇒ 74 Doesn't catch fire this round.

Guard #3 attacking window: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
Damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7 -5 Hardness = 2 damage
Guard #3 Crit attacking window: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

Guard #4 attacking window: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
Damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9 -5 Hardness = 4 damage

Total damage thus far 12 hp to window - it's clearly about to shatter inwards.

Lowen Acrobatics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Flago Acrobatics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Flago goes to run at Alahazra, but his feet spill out from under him and he crashes to the floor. He growls in frustration and tries to stand again.

Lower however steps clear of the grease, and charges Honus with a slightly terrified yell.

Lowen charging Honus: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

His swing, however, goes wide.

"Fahim, get to the window! If they break through, you need to hold them back. Toss a bomb out the window if they give you an opening."

Honus forgoes the bow and redraws his sword. With a broad sweep, he slices through the air and hopefully through Lowen as well. Stepping through the strike, Honus ends his position between his opponent and Becher.

Masterwork Longsword (+bab +str +mw -pwr att), 19/x2 crit: 1d20 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (12) + 5 - 1 = 16
Damage (+str +pwr att): 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

If we don't put that fire out, this whole building will be destroyed. Even if we defeat Kretchmoor, there will be nothing left of Railford except a dozen starving families.

"I'll help you, Becher. Just one... more... moment..."

Lowen folds over Honus' blade as the tip skewers him right in the midsection. The longsword slides powerfully through his armor, the muscles of his abdomen, punches through viscera, scrapes between the interstice between two rear ribs, and then out his back.

"Oh," says Lowen, stopping cold and looking down at the blade. His own sword clatters to the ground from his suddenly nerveless fingers, and he blinks and looks up at Honus. "You - you've killed - me." His voice sounds surprised, almost distracted, and then his knees buckle and he falls to the ground, his body weight pulling him free of the blade.

Honus looks sorrowfully upon his victim, lifeless on the wooden slat floor, blood beading and traveling along the cracks and separations of the boards.

You had no choice and take no joy in what you must sometimes do. He brought this upon himself. Remember that. Now, go help Becher quench this fire.

Mexus's lips curl into a wicked thin smile as Flago upends under the slippery duress of his spell, and then Mexus's fangs appear as Lowen is gutted by Honus's reposte.

I doubt that either of them will ever have a chance to be smarmy again ...

At Honus' command the portly Fahim turns around and heads back to the stillroom and the sounds of the soldiers breaking through the window. He is heavily panting by the end of his dash to the window, but is perfectly place to hurl a bomb through the window after the soldiers break in.

Fahim double moves to get within 5 feet of the soon to be open window.

Alahazra backs up five feet and hurls another sling bullet at Falgo.

Sling attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Her bullet flies wide!

Honus is up.

Turning toward Becher Railford, Honus sizes up the water barrel before them. It looks very big and very heavy, but he wastes no time.

"Together... Ready? Lift!"

They shuffle toward the burning grease while Honus strains to maintain grip. Unable to see Becher on the opposite side, he can only hope that the man is faring well with the weight. The sloshing water spills over the lip and runs down the length of the barrel, pooling at his palms and causing them to slip. Honus tightens his grip, but the edge of the barrel shifts to his fingers. The weight is almost unbearable, but there is no time for error. They continue their shuffle to the fire and upend the barrel.

Map updated.

The large barrel tips over, and a heavy wash of water extinguishes most of the flames where they're lapping at the wooden boards. Fire, however, continues to burn on the walls. Becher gives a grunt of satisfaction, and Honus gets an earnest nod of sincere gratitude.

Mexus is up.

Mexus takes in the scene before him with a quirked eyebrow.

You would think they could wait until after the guards were burned to death before extinguishing the flames … oh well; death by steel instead.

In a sudden burst of motion, Mexus flies back down the stairs, and rushes towards the prone Flaggo. His path swings a few feet wide of the mercenary upon approach, but he comes to a stop at Flaggo’s side. However, his momentum continues forward as his tail presses a downward turned dagger into his eagerly awaiting palm. Mexus brings the full force of his weight down on the prone Flaggo.

+1 for using a bonded dagger, critical 19-20/x2; Flaggo is at -4 to AC for being prone
Murderous Dagger Attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19
Confirm Critical: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4
Critical Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2

Mexus grins as his dagger bites into Flaggo's flesh, and he whispers just loud enough for Flaggo to hear,
"I'm going to carve my name into you, so you won't forget it again ...

Flago's not prone, and an 18 die roll on a dagger isn't a crit. To my knowledge there's no roll for simply standing on Grease, so when his first move action resulted in his falling, he used his second to simply stand.

Flago snarls in fury as Mexus' dagger bites deep into his side, but he fights for footing and brings his longsword whistling around and up to come down in an overhead chop.

"Bastard scum!"

Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10

His sword goes wide, however.

"Bastard!" roars Flago again as he takes a five foot step out of the Grease.

Guard#3 Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Damage: 1d8 + 2 - 5 ⇒ (7) + 2 - 5 = 4

A final chop from the guard outside the window smashes it open, leaving a large hole for his companion to scramble through and drop into the square next to Fahim. Seizing the opportunity, the guard attempts to skewer the alchemist.

Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

His attack goes woefully wide.

Alahazra and Honus are up.

Alahazra decides to take a potshot at Flago.

Sling: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

Her bullet once again goes wide.

Honus ignores the nod from Becher as Flago escapes from the grease. He takes a few long strides around the slick mess while drawing his sword once again. He winds back quickly and slashes down hard, catching Flago along the face and chest, nearly cleaving his jaw clean off.

"Enough of this!!"

Masterwork Longsword (+bab +str +mw -pwr att), 19/x2 crit: 1d20 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (15) + 5 - 1 = 19
Damage (+str +pwr att): 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Assuming Flago is dead:

Hearing the crash and thud from the next room, Honus tramples past the corpse of Flago and sprints forward to aid Fahim.

It is 60 ft. to the Stillroom, which will require a double move next round. Honus will attack in the following round after a single move action to engage.

Fahim stumbles back five feet in reaction to the wide swing from the guard. He pulls out his second makeshift bomb and hurls it at his assailant, crossing his fingers as he does so.

[Dice= "Lamp Oil" Misfire]1d20[/dice]. On a 1-10 the bomb fails to ignite.

[Fahim is at +1 for point blank shot, +1 for Throw Anything feat]
[dice= "Lamp Oil" (Ranged Touch)]1d20 + 7[/dice] to hit the target’s touch AC.
Misdirection: 1d8 ⇒ 8 with 1 falling short and 2 through 8 rotating around the target clockwise.

[Fahim is at +1 for point blank shot]
Fire Damage: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10 and 5 splash damage to anyone in the adjacent squares.

Honus' blade finishes of Flago, who crumples to the ground, all the vim and vigor bleeding out of his body as he croaks his last.

Fahim's bomb bounces right off the soldier's helm, but where it should have satisfyingly engulfed the man in flame, it instead simply falls to the floor and splashes grain alcohol harmlessly on the boards.

Does Becher take any actions?
Top of the new round and Mexus is up, right?

Becher is staring at the burning wall in consternation. It is indeed Mexus' turn.

Dagger in hand, Mexus races towards Fahim through the double doors to the north end of the distillery.

Double move.

Unless something at the front entry of the distillery changes...

Hearing the crash and thud from the next room, Honus tramples past the corpse of Flago and sprints forward to aid Fahim.

The second guard clambers in through the window eagerly, and both men launch themselves at Fahim, go for short stabbing thrusts instead of wild swings, looking to drive him back with their attack.

G#1: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

G#2: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Neither however proves effective.

Then, down by the very south of the building comes a sudden thumping and crashing as new guards begin to attack the shuttered windows there.

G#1: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
G#2: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Damage: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Now we're entering the new system. All PC's may post as quickly as they like. Once everybody has posted, I'll have the guards go again.

Fahim steps back again from the onrush of soldiers, and throws his last and final "bomb" at the soldier closest to the window.

[Dice= "Lamp Oil" Misfire]1d20[/dice]. On a 1-10 the bomb fails to ignite.

[Fahim is at +1 for point blank shot, +1 for Throw Anything feat]
[dice= "Lamp Oil" Attack (Ranged Touch)]1d20 + 7[/dice] to hit the target’s touch AC.
Misdirection: 1d8 ⇒ 2 with 1 falling short and 2 through 8 rotating around the target clockwise.

[Fahim is at +1 for point blank shot]
Fire Damage: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10 and 5 splash damage to anyone in the adjacent squares.

As Mexus rushes to Fahim's side, his tail pulls free a throwing dagger from his boot and places it into his upturned hand. Mexus takes careful aim at the remaining guard before him, lets the dagger fly at the foe before him.

Throwing Dagger: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8

Both soldiers scream as they're engulfed in flames, and stagger around almost pathetically as they swing their arms and claw at themselves, flesh bubbling and hissing and falling off their bones like tallow. Within a matter of moments, they fall to the ground, where they rock and moan in extreme agony, still smoldering and burning, eyes bursting from the heat, until at last they lie still, the sweet, burnt stench of flesh filling the air along with that of acrid smoke.

Mexus sprints back to the main entryway of the distillery, apprehension growing as the mercenaries continue to pound on the shuttered south windows.

This has to end. There's no point in others losing their lives for Kretchmoor. Especially those that have yet to insult my name and title.

Mexus call loudly out the front doors, "Kretchmoor! Four of your men are dead. You cannot force us to yield. Stand down and we will let you live!

Well ... we'll let your remaining soldiers live.

bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26

Just in case there's any confusion, Phil is waiting for Jeff and Jon's responses before posting again.

Since he's in the distillery, Fahim goes to the shelves to make another bomb.

Sorry, grew confused there with turn order. Guards are up.

Even as Mexus' voice calls out commandingly to Kretchmoor outside, the pummeling at the southern window becomes even more vigorous - no, desperate even. Cries of fear and shock can be heard, and two guards leap into the northern room where Fahim stands - but they turn, backs toward him, swords readied as if anticipation of an attack from outside.

"Truce!" bellows Kretchmoor as he comes running in through the open front door, two more guards flanking him. Screams grow outside, as well as the inhuman sound of slavering growls. "Truce!"

Kretchmoor Acrobatics save: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
Guard 1 Acrobatics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Guard 2 Acrobatics: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19

Even as Kretchmoor turns, his guards forming a wall before him, a loping, sallow-skinned creature comes in through the doorway, its inhuman mouth wide and fanged, its nose mere slits, its body reeking of decay.

Ghoul Acrobatics: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

Without thought or fear it throws itself at one of the guards, and brings him down, claws slicing deep through the man's throat as he panics and fails to bring his blade up.

A second leaps in through the northern window, its spring carrying it right through the air to come crashing down on one of the guards, snapping bones as it buries its teeth in the man's neck. Screaming, he falls, and then his scream become mere gurgles.

The southern pounding finally breaks through the shutters, but the screams rise up and a body is hurled broken through what remains of the window, to roll and lie still on the ground. A moment later, a third ghoul clambers in after him, snarling and staring with maniacally hungry eyes at all within.

Damn! There's no way to hit the ghul without also killing the guard. I'll have to wait for them to disentangle themselves, one way or another.

Fahim makes another bomb while he waits to see the result of that encounter.

Honus enters the stillroom as the two men scream in torture and pain from Fahim's exploding flask. He rears back with his longsword as a third man scrambles through the window, but the shock of what follows stays his blade. As the ghoul mauls the soldier, Honus flares his nostrils and lets out a loud bellow. He puts his entire might into a downward swing, hoping desperately to slay the creature with a single blow.

Masterwork Longsword (+bab +str +mw -pwr att), 19/x2 crit: 1d20 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (6) + 5 - 1 = 10 +2 flank?
Damage (+str +pwr att): 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Honus' blow goes wide, the force behind it tremendous but missing the ghoul's head by inches.

Honus goes again since nothing else is happening!

His eyes go wide with shock as the ghoul lopes to one side, narrowly avoiding being hacked through. From his position, sword point dug into a floor board, Honus rotates his body to start the blade behind him and slices upward and across with both hands on the hilt.

Masterwork Longsword (+bab +str +mw -pwr att), 19/x2 crit: 1d20 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (7) + 5 - 1 = 11
Damage (+str +pwr att): 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Good plan! Mexus goes again too.

Mexus tries to think of something useful to do as he draws his dagger and rushes to Alahazra's side.

I had been waiting for Mexus to go for a first time. I'll post this afternoon, things have been really hectic on my end.

With a roar, the southernmost ghoul launches itself forward, charging right into Alahazra, snapping its jaws as it seeks to chew off her face.

Bite attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19

Grabbing hold her by the shoulders, it sinks its fangs through her cheek and bites down on her lower jaw, tearing its head from side to side as Alahazra screams in pain and fury.

Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Alahazra saves vs. Ghoul Fever: 1d20 ⇒ 15
Alahazra saves vs. Paralysis: 1d20 ⇒ 13

The ghoul that just burst through the flaming door attacks Kretchmoor, slavering and howling!

Bite attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Claw attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17
Claw attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14

Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Kretchmoor's screams are silenced by the onslaught, his throat torn out and gut opened by the ghoul's ferocious attack. Kretchmoor goes down and lies still.

The guard by his side swings his blade, trying in horror to wound the ghoul.

Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

His fear gets the better of him, and his tentative stabs go wide.

IN the Stillroom, the ghoul turns upon Honus, reeking of carrion, eyes bloody and wild.

Bite attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Claw attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13
Claw attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

None of its attacks however are able to pierce Honus' armor and deftly raised shield.

The guard flanking the ghoul let's out a bullish bellow that almost masks his fear, and lunges in!

Attack: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
Damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

His sword pierces the ghoul's back, digging into the iron hard muscles and nearly severing the monster's spinal chord. The ghoul screeches in pain and fury.

A second ghoul leaps in through the southern window, sniffing loudly as its beady eyes track the crowd within, and seeing its fellow attacking Alahazra, launches himself at her as well.

Bite attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

It's snapping jaws fail to connect, however.