Gwl, you can still attempt to stab her again amidst all the commotion.
[dice=Intuition]1d20+4
Gwl attempts to stab her again, steeling himself to the task.
He sets his spear, ready for her retaliation.
Gwlybwr was just waiting for Jym's trick to fail; as it does, he thrusts strongly, connecting with a thwck. The Thing that was Brissa (TTTWB?) savagely turns on him with rapier and fangs, only to catch another thrust of Gwl's spear. She should be heavily wounded from all that, but the unnatural vitality of the Abyss means she doesn't even notice the injuries.
Uro moves around Gwyl and does his best to end this pitiful things suffering.
Unfortunately, the burly orc misses his blow
Elebrin up.
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The boards are very weird recently.
Gwl yelps as the rapier draws a bright line of plain across his abdomen, where his scales are softer and more pliant. Fortunately, Brissa has to push forward to reach him, and his spear twists in her guts as she does. A gush of ichor sprays out from the wound as he draws back to deliver a thrusting, two-handed strike.
Once again, he tries to keep her at bay with the puncturing defense.
TTTWB sheds any pretense of sentience, devolving into a mass of stabbing, biting hunger and rage. Gwl's attacks are ineffectual against her gray hide, and she presses at him:
Luckily, his spear seems to hold her at bay, and she's unable to repeat that wounding thrust or get her needle-like teeth into him.
Elebrin moves cautiously around the area trying to find an opening. She spits and throws her acid as a matter of habit.
]
You miss.
Jym casts magic stone on three of his sling stones.
Done.
Uro, you're up
"Uro, get behind her and strike when I do! Surely she cannot dodge both."
Gwl stabs at not-Brissa-anymore with calculated aim, seeking to distract her, or better.
Gwyl's spear strikes true this time. TTTWB screams and further impales herself, like a spitted boar, in an effort to get in one last bite against her slayer:
The effort causes her wound to rupture, spraying ichor on Gwl and Uro; the droplets burn like fire.
Gwl drives the thrashing body to the ground, taking a face-full of acidic ichor for his trouble. Mindful of the scything claws, he dances his way around the mutant while her death spasms subside. Once she is still, he closes her bloodshot eyes with a careful claw.
"Zouken, walk with you to peace."
He stands and yanks his spear free, gesturing further into the cave with the blackened blade.
"Vanthus is here. Beyond the flames. This was his companion, or what was left of her."
He drags the spear back and forth, scouring it in the sand to clean it.
"Let's not let him get away this time."
No wanting to give their quarry any more time to prepare, he steps back and takes a running leap across the flames.
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Gwl hurtles through the flames, taking a only minor burns in so doing:
Inside, he lands on his feat, spear ready:
"Oi!" she cries, "Another mutant to feed the barnacles!" Squinting at Gwl, she says, "Jebidiah? Is that you, lad? You've looked better, boy! Come here, let me send you on your way!"
Gwl surveys the scene as he lands, and responds loudly. Though the sea-gibberish he spouts might be unintelligible, his agitation is apparent to those familiar with him.
Wary of her obvious skill with the rapier, he holds his spear defensively, ready to stab should she attack. Even given her prior wounds and exhaustion, his own cuts and burns make him less confident of fighting her alone.
"So, a bit less foolhardy and a lot less intelligible than these are thee, says I. Aye, but it's a deep buggerin' ye'll be gettin' at the point o' me rapier if it's another step forward, me fine kettle o' fish-guts."
Then she does a double-take, understanding the word "Vanthus" amidst your stream of Abyssal. Squinting at you, she snarls, "Ye be not he, that much I'll trow. If yer a lily-livered servant o' his, than with special pleasure will I ram this thing" (waving the rapier) "to the hilt up yer tight fish sphincter and f#!* ye with it 'til ye bleed like an under-ripe maiden caught by the Crimson Fleet 16 weeks out o' port, and scream to make a hurricane gale sound like that maiden's whimpers!"
Jym and the others, standing about in the corridor, are able to make out a female voice yelling at Gwlybwr; struggling to see past the flames, you can barely make out a humanoid figure. Whoever it is, she seems very tired and, from what you can hear, is quite an accomplished trash-talking potty-mouth.
Acid damage Reflex save
Hearing the ramblings of the woman on the other side of the flames, Uro hops through after Gwl.
The orcs looks at the excited woman and says flatly "Calm down lady, we're looking for Vanthus too." Once Uro takes in the scene, he nods. "Nice job on these mutants. You kill all of them yourself?" A lighter tone enters his voice as he seems genuinely impressed.
"Oh, ye be looking fer Vanthus, too, eh?" She says sarcastically. "Well, get in line, tuskface! When I find him first, that rot-gutted, whore-pocked, pus-bellied leftover from a gator's stillbirth won't last the time it takes a gnat to shit on a mayfly!"
Seeing that Gwl is not attacking, and apparently not caring that Uro is an orc, she calms down a bit. And, being a villain with an audience, she of course begins monologuing...
"The blighter shows up anchors down the cove, and rows over all peaceful-like, with an extra rowboat -- I'm thinking it's for the furs, but little knew then it were full of whale-oil and had a hole in the bottom... Anyway, I'm on the Slippery Eel and take a look belowdecks while he talks to the mate... and who do I catch there but that hussy, drippin' sea water, with her hands on a great black pearl I was eager to sell -- the size of yer big orc-sack swollen after a fortnight at sea with no sows to rut, I'll warrant! I slap her bleeding, and I'm deciding whether to make her throat me slit before I slit her throat, when that whale oil goes up like a powderkeg in a cannonade, and the whole cove's ablaze -- when I scurry topside to see what's what, the ships are burning, and then that slippery little minx is in the rowboat with Vanthus, headed back to his ship with me fine pearl!"
She mimics sighting down the rapier like it's a musket. "BANG! I aim to blow her head clean from her shoulders, but the sun were aslant in me eyes, and the shot went a tad wide -- hit that pearl dead on, and it blew up like a firecracker. That's when things started getting weird..."
She pauses, sways a bit, wipes her face, and then makes a show of being ready with the rapier again. She seems somewhat ill, as well as tired and injured.
Meanwhile, while Elabrin and Jym are eavesdropping from outside in the corridor...
Almost, Elebrin's elf-senses are able to detect the danger, but her attention is focused too much on the conversation beyond the flames. From out of the side corridor creeps a stealthy presence, undetected until, with an incredibly fast, running jump, it's on you:
As it screeches, you can see that it probably resembled a roadrunner at one point , but like the other Abyssal victims, it's now horribly mutated. It boasts formidable, sickle-like claws on its feet, one of which inflicted a wound which, on its own, is nearly enough to do in the poor fellow.
Barring a lucky quirk of fate the unlucky little halfling will never knows what hit him.
Elebrin gasps at the sudden violence.
Oy. What is the Endurance DC?
Stabilize: When reduced below 0 hp, you can roll an Endurance check at DC 10 + the number of hp below 0 (i.e., DC 15 at –5 hp) to auto-stabilize.What are the Hero Point options? (Re-roll, +1d6... what else?)
In game terms, one hero point can have any of the following standard effects:
Add 1d6 + your Charisma modifier as a circumstance bonus to any one d20 roll or damage roll. This amount increases to 2d6 + Cha mod at 6th level, 3d6 + Cha mod at 11th level, and 4d6 + Cha mod at 16th level and above.
Allow you to completely re-roll one die roll, or force an opponent to do the same.
Allow you to immediately take a single 5-ft. step, move action, or single iterative attack.
Allow you to disregard the effects of fatigue or exhaustion for a single encounter.
Cause an attack or spell targeting an ally to target you instead (by “getting in the way”).
Change the result of a d20 roll to a “10” (as if the character had Taken 10, but without any of the limitations of that mechanic).
Convert a critical hit against you to a normal hit;
Provide an additional 1d6 rounds of use of a “rounds per day” ability such as Rage or Bardic Inspiration, or an additional use of a 1/day ability. If referee and players can all agree on particulars, then hero points can also be used to cause remote but non-quantifiable possibilities to become likelihood or even certainty. For example, a hero point might allow a player to "remember" that his character bought potions of cure light wounds at the end of the last adventure (even though the player himself forgot all about the need to restock). The more reasonable the scenario, the fewer hero points would be required; less likely coincidences ("What are the chances that somebody recently lost a $100 bill near here?") should require a larger outlay. Judgment and compromise are often necessary here.
At the sound of violence, Gwl whips back toward the fire. He tenses for just an instant, torn between pursuing Vanthus and whatever just ambushed his companions. Then, he springs into action, bolting back through the flames with his spear thrust out in front.
The fire has burned down a bit since you've been talking, and is now mostly guttering smoke, so Gwl takes no damage from his leap.
"Arr - ye'd better run, fish-guts!" the pirate lady yells after him.
The narrow corridor for once isn't a problem, because the creature is now perched on Jym's prone form -- with that perspective, you can see that, unlike a normal roadrunner, this thing is almost the size of a human -- but long instead of tall, except when it jumps.
With Elabrin gaping motionless, the bird-like monster doesn't seem to notice her; sensing movement, it cocks its head oddly before leaping to meet Gwlsybwr's charge, talons extended and tail fanning behind it.
As it charges, Gwl has time to make an attack of opportunity with his spear, before driving home his spear-charge. The latter thuds into the thing's chest; the weird resistance to normal weapons these mutants all seem to possess absorbs the bulk of the injury.
Jym, with the monster's weight off of him, gasps and begins breathing again.
Uro lets out a low growl and runs forward at the mutated bird.
Rage!
If he can get close enough to attack
The bird, perched atop Jym one moment, flying through the air with claws, arm-wings, and tail extended the next, baffles Uro's aim.
Not wanting to miss out, the pirate lady follows Uro out, holding a torch in her left hand.
"By Procan's poxed penis! That horrid plague got poor Ripclaw, too, it did. 'Twill be a damned shame, should ye fail put him down and leave that task to me. But look at him now--like a rabid dog, he's become."
Gwl buries the spear butt in the cavern floor and pins it with his foot. The spear impales the angry avian, but it persists, opening lethal wounds in his neck and abdomen. He slumps under the onslaught, barely conscious and bleeding badly.
If the creature (and Uro) still lives on Uros turn:
The orc continues his assault on the creature, hoping to keep it away from his injured companions.
The creature shrieks as it spits itself on Gwlybwr's spear; even its weird gray hide isn't proof against that wound, although it doesn't even seem to notice the injury as it sets claw and fang into what must seem like a very odd fish dinner. Gwl, nearing unconsciousness, is not quick enough to recover before the monster continues to tear and claw at him ; it is so single-minded in its savagery that Uro's swinging axe seems not to even register in what's left of its brain.
Gwl successfully fends off one of the talons and the bite, but the other talon gets through.
Uro ) finishes his swing, bringing the axe crashing squarely down on the monster's skull. With the blessing of the Whirling Fury upon its blade, it cleaves through the creature's resistance to normal weapons and lays it low; acidic ichor sprays all over Uro and Gwlybwr:
Even with a smashed skull, the weird bird still makes a last nip at its slayer.
The pirate lady seems sad.
"Ahhhhh, so much for poor Ripclaw. I'd an offer of 15,000 silver for 'im, if I delivered 'im in a big brass birdcage, but I decided to keep 'im here meself, I did. Fed 'im all the fish 'e could eat and 'e guarded these caves well."
Looking up at Uro, she says, "Aye, but ye be a stalwart one, no doubt! Cap'n Harliss Javell's me name, and ye've done me a favor, putting the old bird out of that state 'e was in." Sheathing the rapier, she holds out a gloved hand.
Uro right now. He's just going to voluntarily fail that check.
The orc tries to play it cool and shakes the pirates hand. "Hey, I'm Uro. Sorry about your bird."
Gwl slides all the way to the ground, still holding tightly onto his spear. He hangs onto lucidity with stubborn resolve and wills himself back into action.
He turns to face the pirate, still leaning on his spear.
"Gwlybwr. Not Vanthus lackey. Not crazy like those."
Having said his bit, he drags himself over to Jym and carries the flayed halfling forward.
"Elebrin, help me. Too much blood. Own blood, friend's blood. Find vial, feed Jym."
She nods to Gwlybwr -- a millimetric movement of her chin -- and says, "I'd help ye with that little one, but after puttin' down thar mutant scalawags I downed me own Fixit Flasks like one o' St. Cuthbert's nuns hittin' the whiskey... yar, I be feelin' a bit woozy at that, come ter think of it."
Finally shocked from her complacency the elf moves to help Gwl move and to find the flask he mentions to help Jym...
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Captain Harliss' observation provokes an unusual response from the fishy frogman: a delirious diatribe almost as arcane as his Abyssal outbursts.
"Jym's Juice is legally distinct from the Fixit Flask brand and does not constitute copyright infringement. Also, my client retains his right to consume Jym's Juice at the time and place if his choosing, including several specific scenarios where he is willingly or unwittingly unconscious at the time of consumption. Elebrin, being one of the designated dispensers, is authorized to perform a sufficient search to locate a Jym's Juice Jug upon his person and apply it appropriately."
Gwl shakes his head as though go clear it, apparently unaware that he was speaking as he helps El roll Jym on his side so she can access his backpack.