Whiteclaw stays by the door during the interrogation guarding it and she laughs softly after the orc is set free. "You should have killed him." she says. "Not only for what he did to those prisoners, but to ensure that he could not rally patrols and cut us off. Still, if he does, we'll know we got them all."
"Shall we proceed, or defend this position?" Reason asks.
Arianwyn smiles back at Whiteclaw, "I believe we need a door opening," he says sweetly, "It would be tremendously useful, Madam Gnoll, if you did so. Although you may need some aid."
"No reason to stand around here is there? we should push forward"
Whiteclaw backs a good distance away from the door and then charges it, trying to smash it down.
"OK, we push forwards, I'm not sure how much longer we can rely on the skull keeping quiet."
United in their desire to eradicate the evil at work in this place, eladrin and gnoll charge the door. With a loud splintering sound, the bolts give way under their combined assault.
You find yourselves in a short corridor, evidently well used, confronting another door. From beyond, Reason can hear the hiss and crackle of flames.
Vel brings up the rear.
"Prepare thyselves, companions mine. Yon portal is the manner of ingress to our nemesis."
Obviously in moments of stress, Arianwyn's syntax becomes more archaic.
"eh, the what is what with who mate? " gobi scratches his head, looking quite puzzled
Arianwyn sighs and motioning for the others to follow, opens the door.
The door opens quite easily, almost as though the occupants had been expecting you...
You see a smithy, but a smithy with a hellish difference. Standing in front of the blazing forge is the hunched form of a deformed ogre. His huge shoulders remind you that whatever he lacks in stature, he more than makes up for in strength and there is an un-nervingly acute look in his eyes.
A further four orcs stand in battle readiness, supervised by a one-eyed figure wearing the insignia of Gruumsh. There will be no surprise here and no quarter given.
You note also that all your foes are armed with weaponry made from the hideous blight metal.
In the silence, the wounded orc you met earlier speaks. "That's them."
"Let the fire be stoked with blood..." Arianwyn murmurs.
J19
Vel drops her sleep enchantment in the middle of the field (I10), slowing Garok, Tusky, and Ugly.
Sleep vs Garok, Tusky, Ugly Will (1d20+8=16, 1d20+8=20, 1d20+8=22)
Tusky and Ugly's movements slow perceptibly as Vels's spell hits, but Garok is entirely unaffected. He remains silent, and flexes his arms gently, waiting for the opportune moment.
The Rogue Knight moves instantly to engage his first foe, slicing efficiently into Stomper and marking him as his own special property.
Garok unwinds an immensely long arm and reaches into the forge. Seemingly unaffected by the flames, he winds a ball of heat in his hands and hurls it towards the companions. The ground hisses as the blast hits it and sits glowing infernally as The Rogue Knight and Whiteclaw both feel themselves catching fire. Arianwyn spots the movement of the ogre's long arm in time an pulls his lithe body out of the way.
Gruumsh's Hellfire (Ref) v TRK, Whiteclaw, Arianwyn (1d20 5=21, 1d20 5=23, 1d20 5=11)
Gruumsh's Hellfire damage to TRK and Whiteclaw (2d6 3=15).
Arianwyn's eyes narrow, and he grins, "So, our friend wishes to play with fire..."
Rev
Reason
Reason strides foward to the centre of the hellfire, enwreathing himself comfortably in the flames, and launches a bolt of light at Stomper.
Reason blandly ignores the inferno at his feet and casually blasts divine light at Stomper. The orc can't move away in time and the tiefling demonstrates his own brand of fiery pain.
The unfortunately named Stomper finds himself bloodied before he can even raise his weapon as Kia eggs on the Rogue Knight to further damaging exploits.
Arianwyn appears in a swirl of mist in the room, muttering seemingly to himself. Those nearest to him could perhaps hear, "Urho, brother of stone, hound of the earth, aid me now 'gainst the defilers of the land. I call thee by the ancient pacts.". A dog seemingly formed of rock appears next to him.
The sudden appearance of Arianwyn and his rock-hewn hound makes Tusky's eyes boggle. It doesn't look like a development he relishes, despite the warlock's eldritch blast flying over his shoulder.
"Garok, nobody mentioned dogs." he rasps.
"Rock can burn." replies the ogre, never taking his eyes from the ball of hellfire.
"Fire burn and cauldron bubble... now the charm's wound up..." Arianwyn replies enigmatically.
Garok lifts his head and looks Arianwyn in the eye.
"I was sent sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;…"
An eerie, high-pitched laugh comes from the twisted mouth.