Rikard noticing below the overwhelming numbers of ratmen (at-least for one person) decides to get closer to the camp, hopefully without being seen. As Rikard is moving into position, the camp goes crazy, noticing his friends (as much as they could be) going into action. Rikard stands and Shouts "For the Lord of the Stars"
Aberrations: Body of Light Tags:Burning, Blinding Tentacles Tags: Reach
Im looking to draw the skaven attention toward the bright, burning, tentacle monster that comes crashing into camp.
attack anything i can within reach.
Bathilda ignores Wicks' cries of "Hey, get me out of these ropes now too!" and charges headlong into combat. Her blood was up. The hooded Skaven notices your charge - it's hard not to - and screeches in fear. The Rat-Ogre turns its attention briefly away from Hjalmar, trying to block you like an enormous, furry soccer goalie. Hjalmar is booting it in the face, but it's a tenacious brute. Your successful roll means you are confident in your swing if you try to ignore the Rat-Ogre, but that would open you up to an easy swing from the beast. Alternatively, you can redirect your attack to the goalkeeper blocking your barbarian ball. What do you do?
The drool-covered dwarf pirate yells a nearly-nonstop stream of cussing and swearing as he nimbly dodges the Rat-Ogre's swing. Using the creature's arm to give him altitude, he pushes off, up, and over the thing's head! The cowled Skaven was already precariously holding on to the Rat-Ogre's fur, and with Hjalmar's body dragging him down he cannot hope to hold. The Skaven tumbles with the dwarf to the dirt, your enemy's body landing atop you.
The fire on the cowled Skaven's fingertips flares to impossible brightness suddenly, Hjalmar! The rat-fiend bares his claws at you as fire burns hotter and hotter before the imminent release of his spell! What do you do?
Azeban, your shapeshifting easily breaks the bonds you were wrapped up in. Your roar draws attention to you; the few Skaven that were still off chasing your fleeing merc friends return their attention to their "captives." As you stand in aggressive posture, your skin toughening and sprouting fur, your bones grinding and shifting position like water, you feel the deep wellspring of rage within you threaten to overtake your calm exterior. The rage is driving you on; pressing you to immediately charge the nearest Skaven and knock his head off with your paw. You can resist your desire to attack indiscriminately and focus on a particular target, but you will take a -1 ongoing until you find some way to satisfy your rage. If you give in to the rage, mark XP.
Grigor, don't forgot to roll the D6 of damage you took from your first hack and slash attempt. You're partially successful at disarming one of the Skaven that is attacking you; but because you were only partially successful you couldn't actually take the weapon from him, only knock it aside. The Clan snarls at you and dashes off to retrieve it, leaving you to only deal with two attacking Skaven. While you were knocking away the attack of the first Skaven, the other two stabbed you in the back - roll 2d6 and take the higher of the two dice in damage. (This extra chance for more damage is meant to represent fighting multiple enemies at once; it's meant to be harder, more punishing).
There's a sudden burst of light and a joyous outcry from the right of the battlefield. Choirs of heavenly angels sing as Rikard Darke emerges from the limited cover of the nearby treeline, but the singing is discordant, in a minor rather than a triumphant major key. Anyone listening to knows the words to the choir music that is being played would recognize that the words are actually being spoken backwards.
His body shining like a radioactive Mr. Burns, Rikard unleashes the blessings of his unholy master, sprouting tentacles that are totally only meant to anally violate the bad guys, he swears.
Rikard stalks toward the melee, his body shining with a painful light, and his god-tentacles reach out and snag a blinded Skaven crossbowman. Just when he's about to strike home to kill the rat, several crossbow bolts thunk into his body from behind, causing him to scream in pain and release his intended victim. Unfortunately for him, Skaven hardly rely on accuracy when firing their weapons - their strategy is more "accuracy by shooting a lot". Some of them hit home - roll 2d8 damage and choose the higher die to take for damage.
In the ensuing activity and confusion, Locrian attempts to catch the attention of...well, anyone, anything. Difficult, he realizes, as there now exists a rat-ogre, a bear, and tentacled monstrosity in the mix. Good set-up for a joke, should mark that down when we get out of this. He struggles against the bindings on his wrists, and shouts as much to his enemies as his allies, "A little help here!"
In a last ditch effort, Locrian coughs up as much phlegm as possible and tries to spit at the nearest Skaven.
[dice=Con-based "Volley"]2d6+0[/dice]
I have my armor. Did I lose my shield along with my sword?
from last round
possible this round
possible this round
For a total of: 1 point of damage from both rounds.
Hack and Slash with my gauntlet, against the warrior that stabbed me , doing to his squeeky little nose.
Dhice taps into the strange wellspring of power within himself that he is only just beginning to understand. However, the stress of the battle raging all around him and his own self-doubt cause him to falter at the last moment; after the sand elemental has been fully summoned.
The living sandstorm seems to look down at you. You sense that you are being judged. Suddenly with a tearing sensation on the inside of your chest, the elemental breaks free of your control. The sandstorm forms a face that smiles broadly at everyone, then begins to laugh. It spins around and around and around, discorporating itself into a dispersed cloud of sand that blocks the vision of everyone within a 20 foot radius. All the prisoners, the immediately surrounding Skaven, the Rat-Ogre and those battling near it, are suddenly blinded for 10 seconds.
Right before the sandstorm blots out everyone from being able to see, Locrian hocks an impressive loogie that splats right in the eye of one of the Skaven gunners. The ratman touches his eye with one paw in disbelief, unable to imagine a noble elf hocking such a magnificent work of snot-art. The Skaven almost isn't even mad at the bard. Almost.
With a snarl, the gunner throws his rifle to the ground and charges you, Locrian! Just as the sandstorm blinds everyone, the rat man reaches you and begins to savagely bite at your throat! What do you do?
Dead to dice roll? i have 7HP and dice=8-1 armor= still dead.
HP= 6 +Con Con=13 +1 so HP=7?
Ignore Above:
Con=6+13= 19 HP phew.
Into the fray, id like to remove the crossbowman. Permanently. and if i can with a single tentacle maybe release some friends.
Archepex, from your Discern Realities roll from earlier, you notice that the Skaven - some of them, anyway - have what appear to be alchemical flasks dangling from bandoliers. You make eye contact with Mule, and he seems to understand you implicitly, like that amazing animal always seems to do.
Your aimed shot lands true on the Skaven that was right in the middle of stabbing Grigor. A second later, Mule strikes as well, and his foreknowledge of the bandolier allows the bird to bite through the flimsy straps on the bandolier with his razor-sharp beak. The Skaven stabbing Grigor screams and falls to the ground, and the alchemical flasks roll away from his body freely. The terrain where Grigor is fighting is now hazardous if you step carelessly on a grenade; but they can also be picked up...
Grigor, they didn't let you keep your shield when you were tied up homie, I'm sorry. Your wild fisticuffs batter away the Skaven and knock his grip loose on the dagger he stabbed you with. Both Skaven that have stabbed you in the back are now dead, but the one whose sword you knocked away has picked it up and is charging you! What do you do?
You now have a Skaven Dagger equipped - Close range rather than Hand range for your Gauntlets - and it's got its own little holster in your backside, too! It's just a little painful to pull out and put back in.
I figured as much with the shield.
Also, since I rolled an 8 on my attack, how do roll to see if they hit me on their counter attack? Do they just automatically hit and I roll damage?
I pulled the knife out of my coccyx and jump at the one charging me, trying to drive the knife nto the top of its skull.
Hack and Slash for damage.
"Awh, to hells with it!" Hjalmar thought, realizing that what he was about to do was at once his best chance to survive AND die all at once. Locking eyes with the rat-ogre above him, he goaded the thing. "Cmon ugly, Im right here, take yer best shot!" He roared as loud as his lungs could muster, the words as clear as they were ever going to get through the rag covering his mouth.
"Ah uh, sorry about that!" Locrian feigns, then feints, hoping to catch the filth off-guard as it rushes, teeth bared and claws out.
Still bound at wrist and ankle, Locrian hops and twists around, using the truss above him to pull himself up and away from danger: ratmen ever the bull, handsome elves being the red cape.
And I'm doing this mostly unarmed. Losing my Signature Weapon was a gift to the narrative. ;)
p.s. Do I need to roll its attack against me? Do they auto-hit if I hit on a 7-9? Does it not matter because I pin-cushioned it?
When you roll a 7-9, I have the opportunity to do something to you as a DM. Sometimes your armor will get damaged, sometimes you'll lose your weapon, sometimes you'll get grappled, and sometimes you'll simply take damage, and sometimes I'll get even more creative. Because in the fiction, you were trading blows with the Skaven, I interpreted your 7-9 roll as you both got some good shots in on each other. That's why you just take damage sometimes when you partially succeed.
When you roll a 7-9, I have the opportunity to do something to you as a DM. Sometimes your armor will get damaged, sometimes you'll lose your weapon, sometimes you'll get grappled, and sometimes you'll simply take damage, and sometimes I'll get even more creative. Because in the fiction, you were trading blows with the Skaven, I interpreted your 7-9 roll as you both got some good shots in on each other. That's why you just take damage sometimes when you partially succeed.
Okay just let me know of any negative effects as we go. If you don't tell me, I'll assume general scarring.
cough, hack... "oh s!!!!"
Dhice pushes down the rising feeling of self-loathing that threatens to envelope him. He failed to help defend the camp in the initial attack, and now, when he finally tried to stand beside his brothers and sisters, he just made matters worse. "No matter", he thinks to himself.
With everything in front of him obscured from his vision, Dhice visualizes the scene, and focuses on the direction that he remembers a band of the rat faced Skaven approaching from. He opens his conduit to the sandstorm that swirls around him, and tries to redirect it by channeling it into his Sandstorm technique.
Finally, the effort to resist sinking into despair fails, as Dhice caves into the feeling that he's just making everything worse.
If my last attack dropped that Skaven, I immediately move to stand over Dhice and defend him.
Bathilda takes the shot. She wasn't, after all, one of the wussy-baby mages. She wraps her hands around the throat of the skaven just in time for Hjalmar to drag them both to the ground.
Then the dwarf goads the rat-ogre.
"You owe me a drink after this," she says flatly as the rat beast swings.
She grabs the dwarf and pulls him out of the way as she rolls and leaves the Skaven leader behind, but for just a moment, she leaves her back exposed to the two enemies.
Rikard immediately uses his tentacle to yank the crossbow bolt out of his backside and snap it in half. Growling, he stalks toward the Skaven that eluded his grasp before. Snatching the rat-man by the tail, he pummels him with his tentacles (roll your damage, please). How much reach do those puppies have, Rikard? Are they extendable or just regular extra appendages?
Bathilda stubbornly keeps charging the leader rat despite seeing the Rat-Ogre stepping in front of her. Bodily, she hurls her elbows and shoulder into the creature enough to knock it aside and let her pass, accepting the penalty for doing so. Her strong hands are squeezing the cowled Skaven's throat closed, and the rat-man is squeaking in fear...but as the barbarian chokes her target out, she hears Hjalmar shouting defiantly at the Rat-Ogre. The shadow of the hulking brute looms over you. Hjalmar actually has a cunning plan to make use of the brute's attack, but Bathilda doesn't know that. In her attempt to rescue her dwarven companion, she accidentally puts herself in harm's way alongside the Skaven-lord.
Crrrrrrrrunnnnnnnch. All three, Hjalmar, Bathilda and the Skaven are pressed into the hard-packed earth and mud below. Hjalmar, this is what you planned - it's an uncomfortable gambit, but you only take 6 Crushing damage (does not ignore armor) as the giant ogre's foot crushes the Skaven into you. You can feel the breath being squeezed out of the cowled Skaven above you - he's being killed by his own "mount."
Bathilda, due to leaving the Rat-Ogre an opening, your partial success is reduced by 1 - which is just enough to hit your partial success and turn it into a failure. Mark an XP and take 8 damage, does not ignore armor. You can feel your bones creaking in protest underneath your armor, but your hands feel the bony hilt of a dagger in the waistband of the Skaven you're next to. What do you do?
Meanwhile, Grigor is fighting with the ruthlessness and abandon worthy of a barbarian. It'd probably please Bathilda to see him fight so recklessly, if she weren't currently being squished into the earth by a Rat-Ogre. Heedless of any counterstrikes, the fighter barrels into the Skaven with an animal howl, using a knife that is dripping with his own blood. Your partial success aggravates the knife wound in your back - take another 1d4 damage and you are now bleeding for -2 HP for every roll you make until the bleeding is staunched. That being said, your foe is dead, and no Skaven are threatening you currently. You turn back to the rest of the action just in time to see the Sandstorm changing...
As this is happening, the sandstorm is whipping up in intensity. No sounds can be heard over the rising fury of the winds, and the abrasive sand is tearing at the exposed skin of anyone inside. Dhice tries desperately to control the storm and he comes close to achieving it - but the power of the elemental is too much. Knowing he can't completely negate its destructive influence, Dhice bravely takes the power of the element into himself. The sandstorm flows into Dhice's palm with the force of a firehose hitting a teacup - take -1 Ongoing to Summon an Elemental until you've had a chance to rest, Dhice, and take 1d6 damage that ignores armor. Also, the turbulent force of the storm broke you free of all your remaining rope bonds! You can all see again! Unfortunately, the Skaven that aren't currently fighting other mercs are closing in on you - 3 of them. What do you do?
The sandstorm only had a chance to rage for a few seconds. The temporary blindness actually benefited Locrian; during the storm, the Skaven had no idea where to actually bite to find his neck. Displaying the cunning of the elves, Locrian maneuvers his rope bonds into position by feel, judging where the rampaging Skaven will bite next with his intuition - and placing his ropes right between the Skaven's giant incisors. Snap! and the Bard is freed! The Skaven is off-balance from unexpectedly severing rope with his jaws - take +1 forward in combat with it, Locrian.
damage taken.
Pick up the Clan Skaven's sword and stumble towards Dhice to fight the ones attacking him.
With Grigor clear for now and Mule again circling above, Archepex focuses in on the earth mage's situation. With a cool calm he draws and losses at the nearest of the Skraven looking to gut the elemental summoner. Mule, again following the bright steak of his fletching, dives.
The shot is on point, but he had to move too make it. It's just a little, but even a little matters in a battle with the rats.
Mule comes screaming in and snaps at the target with his powerful beak.
The sandstorm abates, and Dhice sees through reddened eyes two scenes. To his left is a charging threesome of the rat bastards. To his right, his friends are being crushed into the muddy ground. Believing that much of this is his fault, he chooses to ignore his own imminent peril and instead tries one last ditch effort to help his companions.
Focusing on the mud surrounding his friends, feeling their weight sinking into it, and the force of the rat-ogre's foot driving them down, Dhice compels the earth around them to erupt, throwing them all from beneath the ogre's crushing foot (forceful) and replacing the mud pit with a hazardous bog of slurry that captures the ogre's foot for a moment in its gunk.
Finally, Dhice takes damage as part of the previous failure. As the blood drips down his face, he sends a quick "thank you" look to Locrian and a similarly grateful smile to those who have gathered to defend him from the charging trio of Skaven.
[dice=damage if necessary]d4
Does armor stop this kind of damage?
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"Well, well, if we are not being careful, this may be getting out of the hand!"
"Protector Valaya, be watching over us, be protecting us from evil, guiding our blows and protecting from the harming!"
CRACK!
Uh-oh, that can't be a good...
Bathilda cries out in pain as she feels one of her ribs crack. She's tough, but damn if it doesn't hurt. She feels the knife against her hands a savage grin masks the grimace of pain.
She rips the knife from it's place, cutting through the waistband of the cowled skaven's pants and starts stabbing the rat-ogre's ankle. It's do or die time and she'd be damned if she died here!
Hjalmar looked up at Bathildas efforts with an appreciating nod, quite enjoying the enthusiasm with which she was burying the dagger in the rat-ogres shins. Still, as much as he appreciated her crazed action, and as much as he acknowledged that he himself was prone to bouts of insanity, now wasnt the time for him to indulge. Rolling out from underneath the corpse(?) above him, he had only managed a few precious feet when Dhices spell forcefully assisted him, sending him rocketing through the air like a hairy, cursing boulder.
Pulling his face from the dirt where he had landed, he shook his head with an annoyed growl, then began trying to wiggle his bound hands past his legs to regain some mobility. Once he had managed that much, he set about trying to untie his feet.
Before she can stab any ankles, however, Bathilda is flung into the air and finds herself in a position to go for the brute's throat. She grabs the rat-ogre's fur and hauls herself close enough to begin hacking away at the jugular.
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Trusting their fate to Valaya now, Myk-Myk rushes off to see what help he can be in the actual melee. Seems he saw Locrian struggling with his bindings before the sandstorm blew across, perhaps he can be of some service to the elf on this glorious day.
Keeping an eye out for any odd piece of bric a brac that could be used as a weapon he makes his way to the barbarians last known position.
"Dear Valaya, do be keeping him safely until I am being there! Armor him as if he were in the mountain home and be driving the enemy from his hearth!"
Locrian is covered in a ghostly armor as the filthy rat chews through her bonds.
"Oy, that was being a bit loudish there Myk...possibly to be drawing attention of yerself with that."
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Rikard immediately uses his tentacle to yank the crossbow bolt out of his backside and snap it in half. Growling, he stalks toward the Skaven that eluded his grasp before. Snatching the rat-man by the tail, he pummels him with his tentacles (roll your damage, please). How much reach do those puppies have, Rikard? Are they extendable or just regular extra appendages?
Extendable i would think since they have reach
Any damage from burning? or do they just flash away into cinders?
if no other Rats present themselves i will approach any allies still tied, and if that fight with the big ogre is still going i will approach that as third priority.
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The teamwork of the Mousetrap players is impressive to behold. Seeming to take cues from one another across the battlefield that have been learned from the past 6 months of adventures together, none of them acts selfishly in the heat of battle. Dhice throws his concern for his own safety out the window, completely ignoring the three Skaven that are closing in on him as he focuses completely on helping his two friends pinned beneath the Rat-Ogre's foot.
A rumbling of the earth as Dhice's selfless focus on the task at hand pays off, and a geyser that rivals Old Faithful erupts from the earth beneath Bathilda and Hjalmar! The Rat-Ogre is taken completely by surprise by the forceful blast and stumbles a few steps backward before falling on his furry ass with a crash that shakes the ground briefly. Hjalmar is knocked clear, the trussed-up dwarf looking like a newspaper that someone flung at a front door on their paper route. With a grunt, the hairy pirate lands in the dirt next to the bonfire, and slips his bonds with ease. You're free and relatively unthreatened by any Skaven for now, Hjalmar - and you're noticing that the Skaven are beginning to show their cowardice. Some of the rat-men that aren't actively engaged in combat are glancing at each other and backing away, fear in their black eyes as they back away from Rikard, who is advancing on them! The "holy man's" tentacles have incinerated one of the crossbow Skaven, and he's looking to clean up another one that is backed up against the bonfire. Rikard, roll your damage on another Skaven crossbowrat, you're thinning their numbers and your fire is causing them to panic. You're breaking their resolve, try to terrify them into fleeing! Show em your war face. xD
Meanwhile, Bathilda was thrown straight up from the force of the geyser's eruption, and she managed to keep hold of the dagger she stole from the squished Skaven-lord! With a furious howl, she dives from her aerial position as best she can to angle herself into a human missle, dagger pointed out first! She dives into the Rat-Ogre's embrace and stabs furiously, but her lust for conquest caused her to ignore the warning that the Ogre-Rat looked prepared for her! You cause severe damage to the Rat-Ogre's mouth, but you've been partially swallowed by the Rat-Ogre! Take 1d8 damage from its crunching jaws and your knife is knocked from your hands, what do you do?
Dhice lets out a sigh of satisfaction as his spell goes off as planned - but it quickly turns into a squeak of fear as three angry Skaven Clanfighters surround him and brandish their knives. One of them is shot in the shoulder and harried by Mule. Unfortunately, in order to get into position, when Archepex hesitated, the bird did too! The Skaven falls back a step after being shot, letting his two friends attack Dhice and Grigor. Drawing one of the flasks from his bandolier, he hurls it at Mule! The flask explodes in midair after the Skaven shook it before throwing, coating Mule in a sticky powder that gums up his wingfeathers and prevents him from flying! Mule falls to the ground at the injured Skaven's feet, what do you do Archepex?
The other two Skaven are intent on killing Dhice after seeing the magic he wields. They raise their daggers for the killing stroke, but Grigor is there to defend! Give me a Defend roll, Grigor, and bleed for me.
Nearby, the diminuitive Dwarf priest Mykmyk is channeling the powers of his Goddess in defense of an elf. Many of his countrymen would scoff or even call him a race traitor for aiding Locrian at all, but Mykmyk knows that Locrian is a good elf and doesn't deserve the stereotypes that dwarves would place on him. Mykmyk has never seen the bard even once consider eating a Dwarf baby.
When the divine magics bathe Locrian in grace, shielding him from harm, the effect is of a shimmering, almost metallic aura a few inches from the elf's skin. The aura is distinctly tied by a shimmering thread to Mykmyk, and the Skaven with a loogie on his face turns to face the Priest with a look of hatred. Still, it's Locrian and Mykmyk against one now, and even an enraged Skaven is still a practical Skaven. The one that was attacking Locrian before turns to flee and throws a small flask at Mykmyk as a parting shot, Priest, what do you do?
Rikard, who is advancing on them! The "holy man's" tentacles have incinerated one of the crossbow Skaven, and he's looking to clean up another one that is backed up against the bonfire. Rikard, roll your damage on another Skaven crossbowrat, you're thinning their numbers and your fire is causing them to panic. You're breaking their resolve, try to terrify them...
After dealing damage
I think its time to whisper to them.
I whisper to the skavens about to run picking the one that is trying to rally any followers or is the most about to try and counter.
JHYL'JmNihera'N^ErW Shukulagm'na"
Inflicting whispered madness on them makes the target incredibly frightened so that they run away screaming.
Teamwork is good. Teamwork keeps you alive. And there is no closer bond than that bond between a scout and his animal. When mule goes down Archepex abandons his cover without a thought and runs at the Skraven threatening his bird. An arrow flies before him, delivering passionate death on whispering winds.
Moving to cover the still-wobly Dhice, Grigor...
parries, pulling any attacks towards himself instead.
Hjalmars appreciation for Bathilda as a person and warrior, coupled with the dwarfs tradition of never leaving a fight unsettled, made his next choice an easy one. Still without a weapon, he charged at the prone rat-ogre. Running between its legs, he let anger and the momentum of his sprint, carry his steel tipped boot toward the creatures exposed groin.
"Oh, for f#&+'s sake!"
Bathilda is not happy about losing a weapon, and even less so at getting half-eaten. What was worse is the bruises would be sticking around from the feel of it, serving as constant reminders of this embarrassing predicament. If she wasn't going to die underfoot, she sure isn't going to die in the beast's belly. She curls up to get her feet planted on its lower jaw and places her hands on the upper jaw and slowly begins to push the thing's mouth wider and wider.
"I. Ain't. Dyin'. Here!"
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Dhice sees Grigori running to intercept the Skaven, throwing himself into harm's way in Dhice's defense. Despite his grievous wounds, Grigori is risking his life for the very person who defiled his sister's Grand Bier those many months ago.
Dhice and Grigori haven't mingled much despite serving in the field for 6 months. Dhice has always been too shy and too embarrassed to approach him. But now, with everything on the line, Dhice sees that Grigor still considers him a comrade. He again raises his arms, the tattered leather strips flap as the sand streams forth
This time the sand blasts into the Skaven, causing damage to the ratmen, then it sucks back towards Grigori and wraps him in a shielding layer of rock Grigori Armor +1
Rikard can taste the fear of the cowardly Skaven. Though they were immensely dangerous as a tide of vermin that overruns their opponents, individually they are justifiably averse to direct conflict, which is what you're forcing them into. The servant of the Lord of Stars breathes in the acrid stench of their fear like a connoisseur. When he breathes out, he exhales the foulness of his magic, creating tendrils that creep into the minds of his victims.
"Bricklayer's dead!" "The Rat-Ogre failed!" "Fall back!" they begin to cry. There are scarcely over a dozen Skaven remaining after the brief and bloody melee, and the ones that aren't actively engaged in combat with the players are beginning to turn tail - literally - and run away. The Skaven you slapped with your tentacle most recently is quivering with fear, glancing back and forth to try and find a means of escape, but trapped between a rock and a hard place...or in this case, fire and a tentacled-place. What do you do?
Archepex, meanwhile, fires off another shot, but he has to put himself in danger with his mad charge at the Skaven. Mule is crying out and struggling to rise from the dirt, covered in some kind of alchemical substance that is beginning to smoke...
The Skaven you shot is feathered with two arrows now, wobbling slightly on his feet. He's in no position to be fighting you back, and he knows it, so I'm giving you an ugly choice: Either do something to prevent the Skaven from fleeing, or stop and help Mule get his feathers clean from the horrible alchemical substance, whatever it is. What do you do?
Grigor, don't forget to bleed for -2 HP for rolling to Defend. Straining with the effort, which shoots lightning bolts of pain along the damaged nerves of his backside, Grigor shouts in defiance as he knocks away the Skavens' cruel blades. The effort leaves him unbalanced, and one of the Skaven immediately seizes the opportunity, flanking him and stabbing him in the side! Grigor, take 1d6 damage instead of Dhice! Both of the Skaven, still fighting together (and thus still brave) are challenging you now, human fighter. You stare them down as they giggle at each other in anticipation of looting your stuff....
And right at that moment, Dhice repays you for protecting him. Sand whirls all around you, some of it spraying on the fire and making it dance, until it condenses itself into a powerful funnel of force that slams into the Skaven. They are knocked into each other with the force of the sandblast, and their skin is abraded terribly by the stinging sands that soon afterward gather around your body. The sand hardens around your armor and you feel a greater weight rest on your body, adding additional protection.
Hjalmar picks himself up, eager to show off his mighty combat skills (as he nearly always is,) and charges the prone Rat-Ogre with a ferocious dwarven battlecry. However, his anger and his impulsiveness work against him, and when he attempts his flying ninja kick at the Rat-Ogre's balls, the Rat-Ogre's masculine protective instincts kick in and the giant brute slams his thighs shut! Take 1d8 damage and your body is pinned between the monster's legs, leaving only your upper torso and arms free! What do you do?!
"Oh, for f#%$'s sake! I. Ain't. Dyin'. Here!"
Bathilda's rage is truly a sight to behold. At times, Bathilda seems like your average human warrior, but when she really gets pissed, she can accomplish some amazing things. This roll I would call more of a Defy Danger than a Hack and Slash, the danger being...getting eaten. Still, it doesn't change your modifiers or result, it just means that you don't do the damage to it. You're more focused on avoiding getting crushed by the jaws.
And since you couldn't resist showboating a little bit by shouting out a defiant, action-movie warcry to the rest of your party, you sacrificed a little bit of your strength to show off, and it's punishing you. You fundamentally succeed at holding open the jaws, but the Ogre-Rat is gagging - you kicked its tonsils while you were climbing to your feet! It coughs and vomits while you're still within its mouth, spraying incredibly foul-smelling partially-digested rat food all over you and your armor. The vomit is caustic; take 1d4 damage and your armor needs repairs. Still, you manage to get out of the way of the worst of it by forcing its lips apart and moving away - you're almost free! What do you do?
Releasing a wheezing cough of surprise as his charge was halted by the ogre thighs, Hjalmer looked for a moment to have lost his fighting spirit. Then, sucking in what air his compressed position would allow, he drew back his leg for another attempt, hoping he had managed to atleast make it to within reach of his target.
No such luck however, his stubby legs flailing hopelessly, just out of reach of their prize.
Bathilda spits out a mouthful of bile that had gotten into her half open mouth when the rat-ogre vomited. It was disgusting, she needed a bath, and it was all this damned beast's fault! She gives one final push to get free of the jaws and swings herself around to the rat-ogre's back, wraps her arms around his thick neck, and plants her feet just below his shoulder blades before squeezing and pulling back with all of her might.
As much as Archepex needs that stinking rat to die, Mule was more important. He slides to the ground beside his feathered friend and immediately starts cleaning the smoking crap off his feathers.
If i can sway him to my patron id like to do that, maybe offer him power over his skaven brethren, if i cant do that because of game mechanics and what not, then b*^&% gonna die. let me know which i can do and ill roll it.
Grigor gets hacked for damage.
Grigor immediately spins past the attacking blade and jabs at the ratman's chest Hack and Slash... missing completely and taking another 2 damage.