Makin flips backwards and dances around the baboon's attacks as he brings his own back to the wall and pierces the baboon sending lifeless to the floor.
Startled, Haldo slashes at the manic simians slicing one into two distinct parts.
"Step directly backwards, Makin!" yells Numair. He then moves up into the fray a vivid cone of clashing colors springing forth from his hand at the two remaining baboons. The furthest baboon falls unconscious.
Remos steps up swinging his falchion at the nearest baboon, missing him.
Faysal hangs outside the room, and readies his wand for the inevitable injuries.
The remaining conscious baboon bites Remos on the shoulder
Remos fights through the pain and heaves his sword over his head, promptly pulling it back down, slashing at the baboon.
Attack:
Damage:
Makin retreats back towards Faysal with a boyish grin.
'Okay, maybe resting isn't a bad idea.'
Haldo winces at the sight of the baboon chomping down on Remos. How that must hurt!
Numair scowls as his spell is only marginally effective. He moves back and fires off a shot at the closest baboon with his crossbow.
attack
damage
"You know, you'd think the fella that talks to the GODS would get a little more attention when he makes a suggestion! Now everyone get back here!"
:) Faysal readies an action to create a blast rune in the doorway after everyone has returned to the main hall.
Makin retreats back towards Faysal with a boyish grin. 'Okay, maybe resting isn't a bad idea.'
Haldo winces at the sight of the baboon chomping down on Remos. How that must hurt! He then cuts down the unconscious baboon ending it's life.
Numair scowls as his spell is only marginally effective then moves back near Faysal and fires his crossbow at the remaining baboon nearly hitting Remos.
Remos fights through the pain and heaves his sword over his head, promptly pulling it back down, slashing at the baboon which dodges his blow.
"You know, you'd think the fella that talks to the GODS would get a little more attention when he makes a suggestion! Now everyone get back here!"
The last baboon bites Remos again and attempts to retreat back to his lair but Remos strikes him dead .
Remos' blood pours from his torso. He lets out a groan and heads into the main hallway.
"Gods above, Remos, how can you still be standing? Faysal, is there anything you can do for him?"
'And myself if you can.'
'Will we retreat to Almah, make a report and attempt to get some rest, them return tonight or tomorrow? Or do you think that's totally against her wishes? I suppose that their can't be too much opposition left in the temple, there's probably not even that many pugs left.'
Faysal lightly touches his rapidly draining wand into Remos' shoulder
"I'm thinking that Alma is only interested in whether we are finished or not, not in our progress. How badly soiled is the room the baboons came out of? It looks big enough to shelter us, and has only one entrance to defend."
Makin investigates the room where the babboons had come from.
Perception
Makin investigates the room where the babboons had come from.
Perception 1d20+5
Five austere beds line the north wall of this humble office and living quarters. A dented metal chest rests at the foot of each bed, and a simple mosaic pattern of red and orange glass chips brings some color to the wall. A layer of grime and filth coats many of the surfaces in this small room, and the redolent stench of dirty fur hangs heavy in the air.
Faysal, hearing the reports of filth, looks into the room on the south side, hoping the windows will have let in cleansing light and fresh air.
Perception check
Makin roots through the chests.
"I admit, even I think we should rest. But we should likely do it here; I do not get the idea that Almah would be most pleased if show up unsuccessful. We can guard the single entrance, and finish off the pugwampis tomorrow."
"And leave the pugs free to our throats in our sleep? Bah! I say we wipe them out now!"
Makin roots through the chests.
The chests are falling apart and empty save for old rags which were once probably clothes.
'Nothing of value in there! So, your volunteering sto stand guard then Haldo? I suppose its more important that our two magic using companions get rest, me, you and Remos could take shifts, that should keep us well guarded.'
"Alright then. I trust your blade as much as I do my own. Same goes for Remos."
'Okay, that settles it so. Hey, Faysal, will you be able to rest in that room over there?'
"DOn;t see why, not, just need someplace to lie my tired bones down, but before I retire..."
Final healing burst of the day (as soon as everyone is in range)
And last CLW to Remos
One for Makin from wand
One for Numair from wand
One for Haldo from wand
"No," objects Haldo, "until we've secured this place, I'd rather we rest outside."
Faysal, hearing the reports of filth, looks into the room on the south side, hoping the windows will have let in cleansing light and fresh air.
Perception check 1d20+5
Three long wooden tables and dozens of chairs that once lined this mess hall are in shambles, mostly rotted away with the passage of years. Light shines through several large holes in the ceiling, illuminating a closed door on the east wall.
All of the torn and ripped flesh on Remos' body is mended by Faysal's healing energy. "Don't care where sleep. Stay up all night, kill more gremlins!"
"DOn;t see why, not, just need someplace to lie my tired bones down, but before I retire..."
Final healing burst of the day (as soon as everyone is in range)1d6
And last CLW to Remos 1d8+1
One for Makin from wand 1d8+1
One for Numair from wand 1d8+1
One for Haldo from wand 1d8+1
"Hmm ... not even as good as my cot back at camp. But if I must rest here, I must. It will have to do."
'Okay, let's kit down, me Remos and Haldo will stand guard!'
Haldo grumbles to himself as he helps set up camp. But he voices no more objects that evening.
"DOn;t see why, not, just need someplace to lie my tired bones down, but before I retire..."
Final healing burst of the day (as soon as everyone is in range)1d6
And last CLW to Remos 1d8+1
One for Makin from wand 1d8+1
One for Numair from wand 1d8+1
One for Haldo from wand 1d8+1
'Okay, let's kit down, me Remos and Haldo will stand guard!'
As the night passes you are aware of other creatures living in the monastery, there is a good deal of noise coming from the kitchen as well as a faint smell of cooking. Throughout the night you are unable to tell what or where the noise is coming from and decide you are better off not trying to find it.
Makin stands at the door, rapier drawn carefully on watch.
'Want to go check out whatever was making that noise last night?'
Numair awakes a little before the others, hoping to find some quiet time in which to prepare his spells. As he finishes the last few, the others begin to stir. He closes his spellbook with a small thud, and announces, "Good. All set. And yes, we should most assuredly find out what the noise was, and who was cooking. That gives me the impression there are more intelligent potential foes here; I do not think baboons, nor the pugwampis, would bother with cooking."
Numair awakes a little before the others, hoping to find some quiet time in which to prepare his spells. As he finishes the last few, the others begin to stir. He closes his spellbook with a small thud, and announces, "Good. All set. And yes, we should most assuredly find out what the noise was, and who was cooking. That gives me the impression there are more intelligent potential foes here; I do not think baboons, nor the pugwampis, would bother with cooking."
"Yeah." Remos says in response to Makin. He doesn't wait for the others and grabs his falchion, hustling towards the kitchen.
"Maybe it will serve us breakfast before we kill it," chuckles Haldo cynically.
Makin races after Remos.
And Haldo follows after Makin.
Faysal pads along quietly behind the impetuous big folk, unsure if breakfast or battle lies ahead...
Numair brings up the rear, keeping on eye out behind them to make sure nothing sneaks up unannounced.
As Remos steps into the door of the kitchen he sees 2 pugwampi stop what they were doing. They drop their jaws wide open, not expecting someone to still be in the monastery.