Tharok struggles with the vicious sense of joy as he watches the insects burn and a sharp pang of concern as he sees his friends succumb to their advance. He backs away as well, and watches as the fires continue to burn with unnatural intensity.
Burn Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Qytheerah nervously glances back and forth, frozen in place by her inability to help or even react to the insect threat. When the burning swarm washes over her and Grafelda, she finally snaps. At the sight of her friend running away and the painful sensation of hundreds of vermin crawling over her skin, inoculating their debilitating poison in her blood, she emits a high pitched scream while futilely attempting to shake them off.
Panicking, she falls back to where Tharok is, the only one who seems to have an answer to their difficult situation.
According to the roll20 map, Qytheerah appears stuck in a dead end, with the rest of the party over the corner and a closed door behind her which obstructs her visibility. If that's where they came from, she'd probably retreat behind it.
I bloody hate swarms. At level one the only thing you can do is hope the arcane caster has multiple burning hands.
I bloody hate swarms. At level one the only thing you can do is hope the arcane caster has multiple burning hands.
I get it as a Mystery spell, but not until 2nd.
After killing the "Queen" Arctorus turns and pushes past the others back into the midst of the swarm. He grips the door with both hands and attempts to tear it free of the hinges, yelling "Clear out!" as he does so.
Strength Check?: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Sorry, been super busy with work. Been popping into the forums when I get the chance.
Okay. . . things just got real ugly.
Around the corner into the grand--and failing--hallway, Qytheerah and Skrioth can only watch in terror as the ground beneath Grafelda's feet drops out suddenly. The scarred half-orc can only manage a brief cry herself before the calamitous descent batters her breathless, depositing her below onto a pile of debris and a cold, stone floor. Her orcish eyes adjust easily to the darkness as she tries to gain her bearings, in time to see the shuffle of diseased-looking vermin turning to regard the sudden arrival of an unexpected half-orc--and potential meal. Something seems off about the rats, even beyond their size being comparable to that of a small dog. A barely distinguishable haze clings to their fur, almost like a black miasma.
DC 15 Perception Check (Grafelda): 1d20 ⇒ 2
DC 20 Reflex Save (Grafelda): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
> Fall Damage: 2d6 ⇒ (3, 2) = 5
Rat Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
It's a 15 foot Climb (DC 14) to get back to the ground level. Grafelda's icon is now in the bottom right corner section of the map, fyi. Since you only spent about half of your move up to that point, I'll go ahead and say you can spend the second half to stand up instead of being Prone.
Back in the tight hallway with the wriggling mass of centipedes, Arctorus easily wrenches the door off of its mostly disintegrating hinges. Rusted bands of metal hold the black-charred wood in place, but barely. For the time being, it seems like it will maintain integrity. For the intended task ahead, its longevity is questionable. Disregarding his efforts, the centipedes delight in a target that has not retreated from their number and begin to wash over Arctorus anew. Being the sole target allows them to find more exposed spots to bite and sting, though his draconic fortitude manages to fend off the crippling poison they carry.
Swarm Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 5
> DC 11 Fortitude Save (Arctorus): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14 (Success)
PCs are up.
As for the door, it's an improvised weapon (so a -4 to swing it). Technically wouldn't damage swarms, but given the application I'll allow it to do at least some limited damage. This is so far beyond RAW it'll be a shoot-from-the-hip ruling. So. . .
. . . I'll give the door 1d3 ⇒ 2 swings before it breaks apart. . .
. . . and you'll be inflicting a whopping 1d4 damage on a hit (with no STR modifier).
Not much, but it's something.
"Grafelda, get on up here!" Mordger goes to help lift her out of the hole.
Assist Climb: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
I can't even see anything on the map, just me in a little dark corner. I suppose I'll just retreat than, this seems a losing battle.
I don't know where on the map the hole is, but if I could watch her fall into it, then I guess I know where it is. I will move to the edge of it, and extend my weapon into the hole, it is a race weapon, so it should reach 10', so maybe be in the square right above Grafelda, so she can use it in place of a rope to climb up?
"Qytheerah, grab me and hold me steady!"
Arctorus shakes as many of the bugs off of himself as he steps out of the swarm and brings a heavy slam down with the rotting wood.
Attack: 1d20 + 6 - 4 ⇒ (20) + 6 - 4 = 22
Confirm, lol: 1d20 + 6 - 4 ⇒ (17) + 6 - 4 = 19
Damage: 2d4 ⇒ (2, 2) = 4
Assuming I can reach Skrioth's weapon.
Grafelda screams as she falls, and twists her ankle badly. She sees Skrioth holding out the weapon for her and jumps up to grab onto it.
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Grafelda's scream cuts Tharok to the quick, and without thinking he rushes around the swarms to stand next to Qytheerah and Skrioth. Peering down into the darkness, he makes out the rats, and quickly nocks an arrow to his bow as he draws a bead on the one closest to her and lets fire.
"Hang in there, Graefelda!"
Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
Crit Confirmation: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 6
Crit Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 3
The rats are out of sight for the ground floor at the moment, but I'll go ahead and change your attack into a Readied action and preserve the crit since they'll be closing on their turn.
Also considering just dropping fog of war for the sake of convenience. The cool factor is being undercut by not being able to see what's going on.
Qytheerah helps to brace Skrioth at the waist while she pulls Grafelda up out of the recently-created hole in the floor. Grafelda scrambles back onto the ground floor just as the grotesque looking rats close in below. Tharok's aim proves impeccable as the creatures appear beneath, his arrow skewering one of the pair through the head and pinning it to the ground. It slumps motionless immediately. The remaining rat chitters out a brief rasp as it regards the half-orc archer above before receding into its own shadow. A pair of glowing, green eyes are the only thing that indicates the creature exists at all before it disappears into the mound of debris with a brief puff of wispy black vapor.
In the centipede infested hallway, Arctorus repeatedly smashes the door he holds fast grip into the squirming pile of many-legged pests. Loud crashes rebound throughout the temple ruin as the door splinters into dozens of pieces, one side of each coated in the smashed ruin of the swarm. What remains of the host disappears into hidden cracks and crevices before the bloodrager's onslaught.
Swarm and one of the rats are dealt with. Remaining rat disappeared into the mound below after turning into shadows. PCs are up.
Morgder moves back into the room and tries to find where the rat disappeared to.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
Tharok eyes the basement level and then nods reluctantly to Arctorus.
"For now. I hope our explorations don't lead us down below." Then the looks up at the large draconian. "You doing all right?" At that he turns to the group in general. "Anybody need to take a moment? We can step back outside and collect ourselves before pressing on."
He surveys the ruinous interior of the building. "Who would have thought the Plague House would prove so perilous? And all this while these menaces lurked just beyond our threshold." He shakes his head. "If we had the time, I'd bring down a full complement of the guards and sweep this building from top to bottom. As is..." He lets his words trail off.
Arctorus nods. "I'll be fine. The little bastards bite hard for their size. We came here for proof, and now we have it, right? Or do you think the murderer could still be here?"
From what I can tell, there are two sets of double doors to our SW that we haven't opened, a door directly East of you that isn't open, and a door to the South yet unopened. Not saying we have to look over every inch of this place, either. Just answering the question presented. Unless one of you think we should finish searching this place over, Arctorus thinks they have what they came here for, which was proof that it was a murder and not suicide.
Grafelda looks troubled. She holds one hand to her wounds. "I thought I would be asset here, but my lack of skill in combat makes me a liability in this death trap. Perhaps I should just wait outside for you all to finish?"
Arctorus shakes his head at Grafelda's negativity. "You will prove your worth. It is not the way Trunau to tuck tail and flee. We find a way to best our opponent, and then do it. You will find yours soon enough."
Arctorus takes a step away from the group and then turns and asks "So, what do we do? Stay or go?" his voice growing more frustrated with impatience by the second.
With the swarm unrelenting in its pursue and Grafelda being swallowed by the ground beneath her feet, it was all spiraling downwards.
Skrioth's voice wakes Qytheerah as she stands motionless, staring at the empty place where Grafelda used to stand. Wrapping her strong arms around the redhead's slender waist, the two of them easily pull the half-orc out of the dark pit just as Arctorus and Tharok finally dispose of the threats around them. Still, Grafelda's words very much echo their own thoughts. She feels the sting of Falayna's displeasure upon her – for the second time in a row, her mettle as a warrioress she has proven not.
Despite her gloomy disposition and the increasing stiffness in her body, she finds the strength to nod heartily at Arcorus' words. "We'll find our time to shine, Elda. The only way for that moment to never come is if we turn our backs and flee" she gently says, melodiously invoking Falayna's blessing to heal her friend's wounds.
CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Tharok remains by the ragged hole's edge, gazing down into the darkness and trying to find the second rat. His great bow is drawn, his hand by his ear, the arrow pointed obliquely into the pit.
"We press on, my friends." His voice is soft, distracted by his intense focus as he awaits a bead on the rat. "There's that flood troll for us to investigate, and only a few rooms left to examine. Let's not leave this job half finished. Someone, toss some food down below to entice the rat back into view."
Attack when the rat appears: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 8
Tharok's words are no sooner uttered than the shadow-cloaked vermin emerges atop the mound of rubble beyond Grafelda's accidental shortcut to the basement. This close to it, it becomes clear the rat is not among the living. Hollow eye sockets remain aglow with unholy pinpoints of light, and much of the creatures skin appears to have rotten and sloughed off, exposing tiny skeletal features beneath. It launches itself across the pit, intent on the Tharok, only to have its advance arrested by the half-orcs readied arrow. It sails across the room and is pinned to the far wall by the missile, the shaft lodged firmly through its neck. That same unnatural glow that filled its empty eyes snuffs out, and it goes motionless.
Tharok breathes out and straightens, turning to regard the rest of the group. Almost absentmindedly he draws a new arrow which he places on his bowstring, holding the shaft where it crosses his grip, through he doesn't draw it back.
"All right. Let's make this as quick and efficient as possible." He frowns as he studies the layout of the ground floor, then points at the door to the south east. "That should lead into a small chamber. We'll clear that out before opening the doors to the large room to the south."
So saying, he moves to stand fifteen feet before the closed door, and draws his arrow to his ear. Feet shoulder-width apart, he stands poised and ready to let fly at whatever might be revealed when the door is opened.
Tharok's acquisition of Precise Shot means he's exuding a little more confidence now about aiming his arrows into combat *grin*
"Nice" Qyth whispers as Tharok's arrow impales the grim rodent.
As the half-orc assesses the situation and lays his plan, she Shoanti girl nods decisively and silently moves according to her friend's instructions. It's nice to have a leader. Halgra's blood truly runs in his veins.
Fighting off the venom in her body, she takes position near the southern door, waiting for a gesture to open it.
Morgder grunts and nods to Tharok. "I'm bloody sick of this whole building. Let's get this done." He moves forward and boots a stout boot to the door.
Skrioth moves to Grafelda, "you are injured, let me see that."
"Thank you, Skrioth. That's much better," Grafelda says. Then she doubles over in pain, clutching at her eyes. She can feel the chaotic powers within her whirling, and a dreadful pain in her eyes. When she stands back upright, there are new scars on her face. A criss-crossing X pattern, like medical stitches are etched across both of her eyes, four Xs crossing each lid and socket. She feels a new power well up in her, a mysterious lulling silence. It is the essence of torpor, and she feels that she could project it out to touch someone's mind like a new limb.
Seeing everyone staring at her, she blinks a few times. "I'm okay...just...dunno what happened. I feel...different."
Arctorus no sooner opens the door than a small pack of poodle-sized rats begin swarming the entryway eager for a chance to earn themselves a belly full of dragon-man. That eagerness serves them poorly as they all leap and clamber over one another trying to sate their overzealous hunger. A chorus of annoying squeaks continues to spill out of the doorway unabated.
Thankfully, these rats seem to be very much alive, unlike the shade-cloaked specimens Tharok expertly dispatched just moments prior.
Party Initiative: 12.66
Rats Initiative: 17.75
Arctorus: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Grafelda: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
Morgder: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
Qytheerah: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
Skrioth: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Tharok: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Squeak Squeaks: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Squeak Squeaks: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
Squeak Squeaks: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Squeak Squeaks: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Rat Attackouille: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Rats are readying actions that were unable to act. I'm going to have to second whoever wondered at the Plaguehouse being a popular spot for locals. Every room is crawling with diseased vermin or giant creepy-crawlies.
PCs are up.
What's with this place? And to think they've dared me to spend the night here only a couple of months ago! Sure, they might have had other intents, but sill...
As a flurry of squeaking menaces tries to burst out of the door Arctorus opened, Qytheerah swings her falchion against the nearest one.
Standard Action: attack rat
Falchion: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Damage: 2d4 + 4 ⇒ (1, 2) + 4 = 7
Claws immediately begin cutting through the air, and the vermin, in an effort to clear the path.
Attack 1: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
Attack 2: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12
Damage 1: 1d6 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
Damage 2: 1d6 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9