5E Adventure's in Midgard – North (Reaver's Spring)

Game Master Tareth

A small merchant caravan led by Rook Bentknee, a kobold merchant, travels up the coast of the Bay of Ghed to deliver goods and trade with Rook's former adventuring companion and occasional business partner, Britta Gleamgaurd, human owner of the Frost Maiden Inn in the village of Nargenstal.

Interactive Midgard Map


7,251 to 7,300 of 7,588 << first < prev | 141 | 142 | 143 | 144 | 145 | 146 | 147 | 148 | 149 | 150 | 151 | next > last >>

Male Northlands Dwarf | Abjuration Wizard 9 | AC 21 | 59/65 HP (0/23 tHP)| Saves: Str: +1, Dex: +2, Con: +3, Int: +9, Wis:+4, Cha: -1 | See Invisibility, Fire Shield Status 4 | Initiative +2 | Speed 25 | Perception +0 |Insight +0 | Investigation +5 | Character Sheet |

(And since it was cast with Gunnar's focus that gets a +1 for lightning and +1 for undead, that's +2 damage. DC 16 Reflex save for half if it applies--not going to assume Scram can hit the broadside of a...house.)

(Not to worry, if we were at flammability of the alcohol, we'd be asphyxiated already)


female Bearfolk Grizzlekin Barbarian 9th|HP 74/116|AC:16|Prof:+4|S:+8 D:+1 C:+8 I:+0 W:+0 Ch:+0|Resist:Cold|Rage 4/4 Dmg:+3

Ingryd begins to move following the rest if needed picking up Scram so they dont get left behind. As she does she continues to push herself getting pace to get out of the building.


Sloshing across the ancient, drowning nursery, Gunnar easily fends off the gas, although it does bring a moment of homesickness. Stepping up to the blocked window he unleashes a blast of blessed electrical energy at the barrier. As the arcane power strikes alongside Scramsax's bolt of lightning, a deafening, high pitched screech echoes through the house. It is the very mind numbing sound of raw void born chaos that pummels ears and hearts. For a moment the barrier pulls away revealing itself as the underside of a massively thick tentacle that disappears somewhere beneath the manor. From his spot near the window the dwarf catches a glimpse of a solid mass of unholy, appendages encircling the entirety of the manor. Then the view is cut off as the thick writhing mass slams back up against the window shattering frame and sending a blast of wooden debris shooting back into the room.

The entire house once again shivers and quakes under the blow and the constricting reaction of several other tentacles and whatever gargantuan thing reacts to the wizard's pinprick of power.

Luthael and Ingryd head toward the stairs even as Arianna shouts up another warning from below. She then looks for someplace a bit safer to stand than directly beneath the ale filled rooms above. Thus her eyes drift to the web filled stairway into the cellar or the rooms toward the center of the building.

WIS(Perception) DC16:
Above the cacophony of bursting wall, falling plaster, shaking timbers and shattering china, you still hear the tinkling tones of the music box. The happy waltz echoes through the building. But at disaster seems to mount, you suddenly feel a slight change in the pitch of the music. Almost as if it pushes back against whatever unholy manifestation of the ancient broken goddess now holds the manor in its grip. Not only that, but you sense that the source of the music is coming from somewhere closer to the center of the manor.

Everyone make a WIS save vs DC15 from the void screech. On a fail take 2d6 ⇒ (4, 1) = 5 necrotic damage. No damage on a success.

Floor Collapse Check 1-50 No/51-100 Yes:: 1d100 ⇒ 32


CG Female Windrunner Elf Bard (College of Valor) 8 HP: 50/50, HD: 9/9| AC: 14 | Saves: STR +1 DEX* +7 CON +1 INT +0 WIS +1 CHA* +7 | Perception: +7, Investigate: +1, Insight: +2 | Inspiration (d8): 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4 2nd 3/3 3rd 3/3 4th 3/3 5th 1/1 | Arrows: 0, Taqa's Arrows: 9, Bolts: 6, Insp: No

WIS Save DC 15: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

"Oh bloody hells," Arianna curses before rushing down the stairs into the cellar with her sword drawn. She manages to shake off the screech, but the way the manor is groaning, she has a feeling that might need to try some magical shenaniganry to get out of this one and possible land herself and her friends into an even stranger situation.


Male Northlands Dwarf | Abjuration Wizard 9 | AC 21 | 59/65 HP (0/23 tHP)| Saves: Str: +1, Dex: +2, Con: +3, Int: +9, Wis:+4, Cha: -1 | See Invisibility, Fire Shield Status 4 | Initiative +2 | Speed 25 | Perception +0 |Insight +0 | Investigation +5 | Character Sheet |

Wisdom Save: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 13

Gunnar turns pale at the sight of the tentacled monstrosity surrounding the house. Nearly out of spells, he rushes downstairs, looking for anything that might help—a ley line he can open, or perhaps some sturdy stonework on a lower floor that can withstand some of the creature’s attacks better than the wooden structure above.

Arcana for ley lines: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25

Dwarven Stonework Investigation: 1d20 + 5 + 3 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 5 + 3 + 3 = 17


1 person marked this as a favorite.
jewel thief ★ 50/50 hp 16 AC ★ 10.18.10.14.14.9 ★ HD 9 ★ thieves*, Perc*, Stealth*, Sleight*, Acro, Ath, Inv, Hist, jewelers, poisoners ★ Inspiration
Spell Storage:
Find Familiar, Enhance Ability, Silence

Perception(Poison): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11
Perception(Poison): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12

Wisdom: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16

Meanwhile Dekatron watched from outside with horror, feeling the telepathic connection to the halfling wither into an endless stream of raunchy jokes, visions of naked dryads, seaman ballads from the east or odd combinations of two or more of such things. Yes, the tentacle looked tasty, but in the final analysis would be better fried than raw. Thus with some noble wisdom the leopard's slobbering chops were sheathed for the moment.

She could even barely see Scram, in between the flapping suction cups and slimy netherous ectoplasm lubricating the prodigious proboscis, somehow dancing atop the something-very-much-resembling-water geyser and giving themself a hasty tattoo upon the fabled double crescent moon. A rescue mission was thus called off before it started; not that celestials abhorred tattoos, or pantsless thieves, but on account of the moisture.

The black triangle ears perked up at the voice of her master "..urff...ha...wazzat one-a yers Griz...sounded like one-a yers..." as the echo of an overwhelming death cry resonated outwards.

Dek Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Dek Wisdom: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

Not sure if Dek is in range for the check/save. If so...

The leopard from the outer realms cautiously took a circuitous path around the manor, getting closer to the source of the music from outside.

Dek Stealth: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15


Elfmarked Light Cleric of Khors 9 | HP 51/71 | HD 9/9d8 | Flare 2/4 | Channel 2/2+1 | Power 2/2 | 1st 3/4 | 2nd 3/3 | 3rd 0/3 | 4th 2/3 | 5th 1/1 | Inspiration!
Stats:
AC 18 | Str +0, Dex +2, Con +6, Int +1, Wis +8, Cha +5 | Initiative +2 | Perception +8, Darkvision

Perception DC 16: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
Perception DC 16 poisoned: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

WIS save vs DC 15: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12
50 -5 = 45 HP

"The... the... house is coming down!" Luthael repeats with his magically flaming hair illuminating the way. He follows Arianna and the bearkin with his usually sharp faculties deeply impaired.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
female Bearfolk Grizzlekin Barbarian 9th|HP 74/116|AC:16|Prof:+4|S:+8 D:+1 C:+8 I:+0 W:+0 Ch:+0|Resist:Cold|Rage 4/4 Dmg:+3

Wis save: 1d20 ⇒ 17

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

Ingryd sheugs off whatever the damage as she continues running. As she does she looks at the house and then sighs.

"But I want the beer"she says with a sigh the. Looks about a bit more ans shrugs her paxe faster then those around her.

"I suppose beer battered Calamari is out of the question too?" she says noting the shiftinf and slidinf and heading towards rhe exit


Arianna:
You hear the pounding footsteps of your companions as they hurry back down the hall and onto the stairway as the house continues the shudder and shake beneath the deadly grip of whatever monstrous thing hold it within its grip. Hesitating only a moment or two, you plunge down the stairs triggering several of Scramsax's carefully laid alarms. Tins clatter, bones rattle, and Grandmother's Lemonade squeaker toys squeak as you make your way down toward the hoped for safety of the cellar. You descend five feet...ten...fifteen...the stairs curve toward the center of the house...twenty...twenty-five...thirty feet through more cobwebs thick as your arm and sticky as a rogue's fingers. The silk does slice easily enough. Arriving at the landing covered in bits of web, dust, and grit you see a passageway extends another fifteen feet straight ahead before ending in a thick metal door. The rumbling and noise from above is muffled to the point of being almost quiet. Also gone is the tinkling of the music box. But replacing the chiming waltz is a something less pleasant, a constantly thrumming voice that makes your skin crawl just like the screech of the beast heard only moments ago. On the other side of the door, someone...or something...chants in void speech.

Gunnar:
You rush down the stairs after hearing Arianna set off several of the warning alarms set earlier by the halfling. You quickly surmise she is heading into the perceived safety of the cellar given the potentially imminent demise of the house. You reach the tendrils of your own arcane senses out in every direction hoping to finding some power that might drive away or stop whatever void-beast holds the manor house within its grasp. Unfortunately, you find no ley lines or hidden wells of power. However, as you pass into the entry hall, you do sense a great deal of power coming from two places. The first comes from further within the center of the house on this ground level. Your magically enhanced sight, struggles to see anything through all of the floating dust and darkness but through the crack of a door on the opposite side of the main hall, you see a feint golden glow. The second feels as if it comes from somewhere deeper. Likely down within the cellar.

Glancing down the steps, you are surprised to see what appears to be dwarven stonework along the inner most wall of the staircase. Hidden behind webs before, the fine workmanship has been revealed by the elf's passage. Strangely, the dwarven work is only on the inner wall of the stairwell, not the outer.

Ingryd, Lutheal and Scramsax follow Gunnar downstairs. When you are all about halfway down, you hear the series of alarms Scramsax set earlier all go off. This does not really slow your pace. Halfling and prophet continue to descend staggering and stumbling like sailors fresh to port after a long, long trip at sea. Fortunately, the foul air thins as Bearkin, Halfling and Human all clear out of the foamy churn of the geyser upstairs and enter the slightly less toxic confines of the downstairs. Although plenty of ale continues to drip and trinkle through the ceiling and down the stairs, it still isn't as bad and being upstairs.

Scramsax and Luthael can make another CON save vs 10 to overcome the intoxication.

Scramsax: Can you see through Dekatron's eyes? Or communicate with him in some way (telepathically perhaps)? I am wondering in case he can give you a description of what's happening outside.


CG Female Windrunner Elf Bard (College of Valor) 8 HP: 50/50, HD: 9/9| AC: 14 | Saves: STR +1 DEX* +7 CON +1 INT +0 WIS +1 CHA* +7 | Perception: +7, Investigate: +1, Insight: +2 | Inspiration (d8): 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4 2nd 3/3 3rd 3/3 4th 3/3 5th 1/1 | Arrows: 0, Taqa's Arrows: 9, Bolts: 6, Insp: No

The Cellar:

Stealth: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
Perception(Traps on the door): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

The sinister voice speaking the maddening tongue of things better left unfound and lost grates on Arianna's eyes and presses in all around. It's as if someone clawed at the strings of her soul. This is the source this this foul presence, she believes, and she can only hope the others are on their way to help after hearing the alarms she'd forgotten about. She closes her eyes and shuts out the voice, focusing on the song that sings eternally in her heart. She prays for luck and that she is doing the right thing before sneaking up to the door and looking for any traps that may bar those who wish to enter or leave.


jewel thief ★ 50/50 hp 16 AC ★ 10.18.10.14.14.9 ★ HD 9 ★ thieves*, Perc*, Stealth*, Sleight*, Acro, Ath, Inv, Hist, jewelers, poisoners ★ Inspiration
Spell Storage:
Find Familiar, Enhance Ability, Silence

Drunk: 1d20 ⇒ 9

Yes, 2-way telepathic within 1 mile. Int 6, 14 Wis.

Find Steed:
You summon a spirit that assumes the form of an unusually intelligent, strong, and loyal steed, creating a long-lasting bond with it. Appearing in an unoccupied space within range, the steed takes on a form that you choose: a warhorse, a pony, a camel, an elk, or a mastiff. (Your GM might allow other animals to be summoned as steeds.) The steed has the statistics of the chosen form, though it is a celestial, fey, or fiend (your choice) instead of its normal type. Additionally, if your steed has an Intelligence of 5 or less, its Intelligence becomes 6, and it gains the ability to understand one language of your choice that you speak.

Your steed serves you as a mount, both in combat and out, and you have an instinctive bond with it that allows you to fight as a seamless unit. While mounted on your steed, you can make any spell you cast that targets only you also target your steed.

When the steed drops to 0 hit points, it disappears, leaving behind no physical form. You can also dismiss your steed at any time as an action, causing it to disappear. In either case, casting this spell again summons the same steed, restored to its hit point maximum.

While your steed is within 1 mile of you, you can communicate with each other telepathically.

You can't have more than one steed bonded by this spell at a time. As an action, you can release the steed from its bond at any time, causing it to disappear.


Male Northlands Dwarf | Abjuration Wizard 9 | AC 21 | 59/65 HP (0/23 tHP)| Saves: Str: +1, Dex: +2, Con: +3, Int: +9, Wis:+4, Cha: -1 | See Invisibility, Fire Shield Status 4 | Initiative +2 | Speed 25 | Perception +0 |Insight +0 | Investigation +5 | Character Sheet |

Unwilling to let what he perceives as an item of power fall into the tentacled beast’s clutches, Gunnar says, “Follow the inner wall down to the cellar—it is solid Dwarven stonework! I’ll be right behind you!”

Taking off towards the door with the golden glow behind it, Gunnar realizes he has little time for subtlety and immediately opens it, planning to go in, grab the item, then return as quickly as possible to follow the others down the steps.


Elfmarked Light Cleric of Khors 9 | HP 51/71 | HD 9/9d8 | Flare 2/4 | Channel 2/2+1 | Power 2/2 | 1st 3/4 | 2nd 3/3 | 3rd 0/3 | 4th 2/3 | 5th 1/1 | Inspiration!
Stats:
AC 18 | Str +0, Dex +2, Con +6, Int +1, Wis +8, Cha +5 | Initiative +2 | Perception +8, Darkvision

CON save vs 10: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Luthael takes several deep breathes of the clear-er air and shakes off the intoxication. His legs steady as he surveys the cellar to get his bearings. Then, he follows the dwarf down the dwarven stonework hallway.


1 person marked this as a favorite.

Gunnar:
Leaving the others to hurry down into the cellar, you run across the large room avoiding the debris of the fallen chandelier and throw the other door open. You are immediately forced to shade your eyes from the burning powers that churn within the room. At the same time, a moment of quiet descends upon you as you step inside.

Once this room was a well appointed sitting room and partial conservatory. The glass walls and ceiling are amazingly still in place, while the numerous plants that once filled the big clay pots have long ago withered and died. A quartet of thick, padded, dusty chairs are set up to create an intimate conversational nook near the fire. Nearby is a simple square table perfect for a small group to play cards or dice.

It is the center of the room that draws your eye and seethes with power. It is a young woman, or the perfect artistic rendering of a young woman, encased in a glass globe that slowly spins as the music plays. The girl, a shepherd girl by the look of her simple robes and the crook she holds gazes over an open meadow. Her golden hair blows in a gentle breeze. Her eyes are an earthy brown, her skin light made ruddy by the daily sun. Her smile is infectious and her hands delicate and gentle. A beauty spinning to the musical notes.

The source of the brilliance does appear to be the large globe. As you look upon its gleaming wonder, you realize this is no arcane manifestation, but something more akin to Luthael's miracles and blessings. This is some godly manifestation, although of what god, good or evil, you cannot say. It does, however, appear to be holding the writhing mass of tentacles at bay. Preventing them from simply crushing this room it a whimsy of malevolence.

Your eyes are drawn back to the girl who spins slowly within the chamber. With a start you realize she has changed. A year or two older now. Her eyes are focused on the sky, no longer on the ground toward her flock. Love flushes her cheeks more than the daily sun as an arm is extended, waving to something high in the sky.

In the background, beyond the door you just entered, the clatter and crash of falling plaster echoes. The groaning of the house slowly succumbing to the pressure of the horror that embraces it within its void cold grip. The chiming music tinkles as the figure inside slowly spins.

Now another joins her within that star-filled chamber. They dance a waltz beneath moonlight and stars. He is a young, handsome knight. He strikes quite a figure in his uniform of silver and indigo. A commander judging by the ribbons on his chest and pips on his collar. Dark haired, blue eyed, strong jawed. He is a very sculpture of proud and handsome nobility. But something lurks in the background just out of sight of the two dancing lovers. Something dark. Something vicious. A shadow looms unseen by the two smiling youths.

A small quake races through the room causing the glass hanging from a table lampshade to rattle softly. Looking up at the tentacles you see that several of the wide thick appendages are lined with rows of suckers like an octopus or squid from deep in the sea. Yet, your keen-eyed gaze picks out something revolting as they things press up against the thick glass of the conservatory. In the center of each is a screaming, tortured face. Screaming and gnashing at the smooth glass with wild, dead eyes of eternal damnation.

Not wishing to contemplate how a soul could end up in such a horrible state, you glance back at the globe. Again the scene has changed. Now the two lovers stand before a priestess of Lada sharing marriage vows. She is radiant in her wedding gown of white and silver. Flowers woven through her golden hair. He is handsome, once again in his uniform. The flaming Florian owl stitched in gold upon his thick velvet cloak of of night blue. But the shadow has grown. It brings a pall of fear and unease to the happy wedding scene.

The globe spins. Music chimes. The scene changes once again. Now the young woman is heavy with child. Her eyes once again turn to the sky, but are filled with sadness and grief as the young knight must fly off to war. She is left alone and now the evil stalks her openly. Another woman looks upon her with fury filled hate and disapproval. An older woman with the same dark, swarthy look of the young knight. She cast her gaze upon the poor shepherd girl and spits curses and blights and prays for unholy intervention against the child who stole her sons heart and her families good name.

You watch, unheeding of your companions fate in the cellars below. Uncaring of the continuing struggle of ancient house against unholy beast. The globe spins. A child is born, healthy and hail. The girl weeps in prayer as evil strikes at her from every angle. Her arms wrap around the child, but as the globe spins the youth is gone. The knight spurns the bereaved girl. Evil laughs and dances in the shadows as it hands the child into the waiting arms of the elves of shadow.

The globe spins. The waltz begins again. A young shepherd girl standing upon a meadow looking over her flock. She is golden haired and beautiful. Full of innocence and joy...

Scramsax:
Through the eyes of Dekatron you see the full extent of the unholy trap triggered by the actions of you and your companions. Surging from the very foundation of the house, thick wriggling masses of rubbery flesh grip every square inch of the ancient manor. Seething with the cold of the void and stinking of hate and chaos, the tentacles continue to slowly crush the manor in a deadly embrace. What presses back. What prevents such power from simply shredding the house. Neither you nor leopard know.

You do catch a glimpse of the rescued prisoners. Having scrambled away from the house upon seeing the first writhing arm of evil surge from beneath the house they scrambled to the far edge of the clearing out front. One or two contemplated rushing in to help, but they were soon cut off. Then the void scream burst into the night air. The weakest collapsed instantly. Noses and ears bleeding from the piercing cry of the void. Those who maintained a bit more strength are dazed, frightened, confused. Throwing hands over ears, they turn away and cower, knowing that they've no hop against such a beast as that.

Arianna slowly approaches the door at the end of the cellar tunnel, followed by Ingryd, a drunken Scramsax and Luthael. After his advising about the sturdy masonry of the manor, Gunnar dashes across the hall and through the room beyond rather than down the stairs into the cellar.


CG Female Windrunner Elf Bard (College of Valor) 8 HP: 50/50, HD: 9/9| AC: 14 | Saves: STR +1 DEX* +7 CON +1 INT +0 WIS +1 CHA* +7 | Perception: +7, Investigate: +1, Insight: +2 | Inspiration (d8): 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4 2nd 3/3 3rd 3/3 4th 3/3 5th 1/1 | Arrows: 0, Taqa's Arrows: 9, Bolts: 6, Insp: No

Arianna takes in a deep breath and tests the door, slowly working the latch and opening the door to see inside.

Stealth (Trying to do this quietly): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13


Male Northlands Dwarf | Abjuration Wizard 9 | AC 21 | 59/65 HP (0/23 tHP)| Saves: Str: +1, Dex: +2, Con: +3, Int: +9, Wis:+4, Cha: -1 | See Invisibility, Fire Shield Status 4 | Initiative +2 | Speed 25 | Perception +0 |Insight +0 | Investigation +5 | Character Sheet |

“Dwarven stonework alone may not save us, but perhaps this blessed globe may tip the scales,” thinks Gunnar. The immediacy of the situation rushing back into his consciousness, the Dwarven wizard reaches out carefully and takes the globe. Once he has it safely in his possession, he runs after the others and tries to use the buoyant hope expressed within to keep the tentacles at bay while his friends now lead the way to the cellar.


jewel thief ★ 50/50 hp 16 AC ★ 10.18.10.14.14.9 ★ HD 9 ★ thieves*, Perc*, Stealth*, Sleight*, Acro, Ath, Inv, Hist, jewelers, poisoners ★ Inspiration
Spell Storage:
Find Familiar, Enhance Ability, Silence

Dekatron sat on her haunches, unsure of any way to help the situation and mostly resigned to a quick dismissal. The master would soon die, it seemed, and she would be banished back to Torch in the Outlands...where she might again strum the mind flayer neurons in another of Ziyad's bold heists. But suddenly she heard the halfling's voice "...heh...when you gotta go you gotta go..." as the image of a departing dwarf flickered in their shared consciousness.

The mental chatter soon devolved into a drunken exposition about liquidity ratios and earnings before interest taxes depreciation and amortization (EBITDA) concluding with a suspiciously biased break-even analysis putting the vampire port masters of Krakova quite a bit in the black. This dubious accounting was interspersed with sensations of bear-hair and the growls of an alpha female.

Shaking off the odd connection, the celestial leopard wondered if that strange creature the master was so afraid earlier had managed to escape the tentacular enclosure...

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
Advantage if smell based: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Looking for signs of changeling outside.


Elfmarked Light Cleric of Khors 9 | HP 51/71 | HD 9/9d8 | Flare 2/4 | Channel 2/2+1 | Power 2/2 | 1st 3/4 | 2nd 3/3 | 3rd 0/3 | 4th 2/3 | 5th 1/1 | Inspiration!
Stats:
AC 18 | Str +0, Dex +2, Con +6, Int +1, Wis +8, Cha +5 | Initiative +2 | Perception +8, Darkvision

The Elf-marked human follows the elf actively listening for anything behind the cellar door.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17


Down below (all except Gunnar)...

After giving the big iron door a close look, Arianna doesn't find any obvious traps. She does spot quite a bit of rust on the hinges. Clearly little has passed through in many long years. A moment or two is taken to apply a little oil to the rusty parts.

As the elf deals with the door, Luthael presses his ear closer and hears the chanting void speech that continues to grate on Arianna's nerves. Curiously, just as the elf signals her readiness to open the door, there is a massive crash that booms from above sending dust and pebbles cascading down from the ceiling of the narrow tunnel. The chanting voice is filled with momentary triumph only to stumble and pause in confused uncertainty. It then unleashes a hate filled screech that once again sends hands to ears as it cuts deep into mind and soul.

Those in the cellar tunnel who failed the previous save vs void speech, must save again WIS vs DC15 or take 2d6 ⇒ (1, 3) = 4 necrotic damage.


Elfmarked Light Cleric of Khors 9 | HP 51/71 | HD 9/9d8 | Flare 2/4 | Channel 2/2+1 | Power 2/2 | 1st 3/4 | 2nd 3/3 | 3rd 0/3 | 4th 2/3 | 5th 1/1 | Inspiration!
Stats:
AC 18 | Str +0, Dex +2, Con +6, Int +1, Wis +8, Cha +5 | Initiative +2 | Perception +8, Darkvision

WIS vs DC 15: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

Luthael winces at the screech, but this time, he is able to prevent the void speech from entering his mind and soul.

"What was that?"


Gunnar, in the Conservatory, with Baron von Florian's Doom...

Upon grabbing the globe several things all happen at once. The horrific faces making up the various tentacle suckers screech out in triumph as the protective dome of the globes magic collapses. The piercing void scream shatters glass and several small ceramic and glass pieces scattered throughout the room. Gunnar races for the door amidst a cascade of slicing and dicing shards. A trio of writhing tentacles hurry after the dashing dwarf attempting to grab the globe and wizard for their own final, nefarious purpose.

Gunnar: DEX Save vs Falling Glass. On a fail take 2d6 ⇒ (3, 4) = 7 cutting damage. Half on a success. In addition: STR(Athletics) or DEX(Acrobatics) vs DC11 to avoid getting grappled by a tentacle.

GM Rolls:

Grapple: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11


CG Female Windrunner Elf Bard (College of Valor) 8 HP: 50/50, HD: 9/9| AC: 14 | Saves: STR +1 DEX* +7 CON +1 INT +0 WIS +1 CHA* +7 | Perception: +7, Investigate: +1, Insight: +2 | Inspiration (d8): 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4 2nd 3/3 3rd 3/3 4th 3/3 5th 1/1 | Arrows: 0, Taqa's Arrows: 9, Bolts: 6, Insp: No

While she wants nothing more than to block out the screech that makes nails on a chalkboard sound pleasant by comparison, she knows that she might not have a better chance of opening the door stealthily.

Stealth to open the door without getting noticed: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26


Outdoor's with Dekatron...

Pulling the required scent patterns from the depth's of Scramsax's memory, the celestial leopard begins a systematic survey of the area surrounding the manor. Or at least the area several feet outside the ring of tentacles keeping the house in their death grip embrace.

At first pass, the cat picks up nothing but the strong smell of ale. Perhaps just a residual influence from his mistresses recent condition. But then the cunning feline realizes that he is much too far away from the manor for the scent of the ale geyser to have reached the grass and, a few feet further on, a patch of prickly holly. He reexamines the area more thoroughly and discovers buried beneath the sour ale smell is that of the creature sought by his mistress.

Cautiously, the natural hunter begins to stalk the creature's trail. Step by slinking step, the big feline drifts through the tall grass and weeds surrounding the manor house. Not too far up ahead he sees the passed out forms of several of the prisoners so recently rescued from the grip of the ghoulish legionnaires.

Then all the world seems to go mad as a great cry erupts from the back side of the house. This is followed the the shattering of great quantities of glass. The tops of several of the skinnier, longer tentacles suddenly surge inside through window, door, chimney or any other potential opening.


Male Northlands Dwarf | Abjuration Wizard 9 | AC 21 | 59/65 HP (0/23 tHP)| Saves: Str: +1, Dex: +2, Con: +3, Int: +9, Wis:+4, Cha: -1 | See Invisibility, Fire Shield Status 4 | Initiative +2 | Speed 25 | Perception +0 |Insight +0 | Investigation +5 | Character Sheet |

Dexterity Save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Athletics Check: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Ignoring the shards of glass, Gunnar powers past the far more dangerous tentacle—just barely—and continues his sprint down the stairs after the others.

“Luthael, I bring a holy artifact! Perhaps you can use it to fend off this tentacled horror!” he calls down the stairs as he comes.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
jewel thief ★ 50/50 hp 16 AC ★ 10.18.10.14.14.9 ★ HD 9 ★ thieves*, Perc*, Stealth*, Sleight*, Acro, Ath, Inv, Hist, jewelers, poisoners ★ Inspiration
Spell Storage:
Find Familiar, Enhance Ability, Silence

Dek's eyes go starry night wild as the massive octopus-with-heads-for-suckers obliterates the last refuge of the Zobecker Griffon rider. She immediately turns to licking her paws in preparation for a return to the planes, but it doesn't come.

Scramsax was still alive, somehow.

Growling low in a forced purr she sends a mental probe, searching for what calamity has befallen the unbelievably lucky partner she's made...

"...oh lookie there, an old dart board. Burst, lets do a little 180 juggle...Barsellan rules..." she heard the drunken voice propose. "Burst...? Where'd she go..."

"That's not a dart board, its a waxed wheel of blue cheese...you're drunk Scramsax." the leopard heard someone reply.

Unable to reconcile the chaotic scene in front of her and the mild banter within, Dekatron turns back to the hunt...to instinct. Approaching the fallen prisoners, she attempts to make some discernment among them...which one doesn't belong.


female Bearfolk Grizzlekin Barbarian 9th|HP 74/116|AC:16|Prof:+4|S:+8 D:+1 C:+8 I:+0 W:+0 Ch:+0|Resist:Cold|Rage 4/4 Dmg:+3

" Should I hit it?" Ingryd says looking at the tentacles. She could fight it hand to hand, but she was really hurt. Still she could rage and hurt the thing to let the others escape.

" I can delay it and hold it at bay?" She says with a smile as she takes a quick shot of liqour.


After Arianna's careful ministrations, the door swings open with nary the hint of a squeak or squeal. Utterly silent the opening door slowly reveals a large gloomy chamber lit only by a quartet of putrid green flames that flicker atop yellowed ivory skull lamps. The lamps form a diamond pattern in the center of the chamber. Thick strands of sickly, sticky gray webbing hang throughout the room with the thickest mass set within the diamond created by the lamps. The room reeks of death, old blood, rotting flesh. A bitter cold bites at exposed flesh and makes breathing hard. A layer of bone and rotting debris thick enough to reach the halfing's waist lines every inch of the chamber save within the area marked by the gleaming lamps.

Lying on a stone slab in the center of that ritualistic diamond pattern is a body. Most of the figure is wrapped in a mass of slowly churning tentacles that continually caress and slither across the bodies flesh. All that is visible is a patch of face. Male, bearded. Familiar to each of you as matching the ghastly visage of Rupert von Florian.

The tentacles emerge from a ghastly horror above the knight. A grotesquely bloated body of sickly green and rancid flesh that may have once been human hangs suspended upon a weaving of webbing and tentacles. A deformed head, bald but for a few whispy strands of long, scraggly gray hair sits like a rotting melon atop the bulbous body. Tiny eyes that open into the void stare into some unseen chaos as drool dribbles down the creature's jowly chin. All semblance of arms, hand, legs, feet are gone. Absorbed or withered away to nothing and replaced by a great mass of tentacles that emerge like an overgrown kelp bed from the back, sides and lower half of the bloated being. The largest of the writhing tentacles exit the chamber through tunnels carved into the buildings foundation and the soil beyond. Once outside they expand into the massive blockade now surrounding and slowly pulverizing the manor house into oblivion. Others maintain their unholy embrace of the knight while still a half dozen others sway in the air like snakes poised and ready to strike.

Gunnar's shout and Scramsax's drunken ramblings cause the creature's eyes to suddenly focus. A hiss escapes its pale, thin lips.

"Who dares disturb a mother in her hour of grief?" Screeches the unholy creature of chaotic corruption. "Who dares enter my house without leave? Who seeks the embrace of the Queen of Decadence and Mother of Multitudes?

Tentacles uncoil themselves and slither toward the open door and the fleshy heroes waiting beyond.

Dekatron:
Like a shadow, the silent stalker of the night creeps among the fallen villagers. The soft sound of a snuffle here, and sniff there the only thing to give away the leopard's presence so near the chaos and confusion surrounding and within the manor. Over half the prisoners checked so far. All reek of the same human stench. Filthy, sickly with whatever evil stirs within, but not of the thing scented by his mistress within the crumbling manor. Still there are more to be searched, and time enough before his mistress is either snuffed out of existence or beckons him to pull her broken body from the ruins of the manor. And so, the search continues.

Make another WIS(Perception) roll

Party is up. Scramsax, you may make another CON save vs DC10 to remove the intoxication.


CG Female Windrunner Elf Bard (College of Valor) 8 HP: 50/50, HD: 9/9| AC: 14 | Saves: STR +1 DEX* +7 CON +1 INT +0 WIS +1 CHA* +7 | Perception: +7, Investigate: +1, Insight: +2 | Inspiration (d8): 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4 2nd 3/3 3rd 3/3 4th 3/3 5th 1/1 | Arrows: 0, Taqa's Arrows: 9, Bolts: 6, Insp: No

"My parents always told me that decadence was something to be avoided," Arianna says before sending a pair of arrows the creature's way. "I think I see why."

Attack 1: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Attack 2: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

She ducks around the door to get out of Ingryd's way and let's out a curse.

"Dammit, where's Aterro? Isn't he some kind of holy knight? We could use one of those about now."


Elfmarked Light Cleric of Khors 9 | HP 51/71 | HD 9/9d8 | Flare 2/4 | Channel 2/2+1 | Power 2/2 | 1st 3/4 | 2nd 3/3 | 3rd 0/3 | 4th 2/3 | 5th 1/1 | Inspiration!
Stats:
AC 18 | Str +0, Dex +2, Con +6, Int +1, Wis +8, Cha +5 | Initiative +2 | Perception +8, Darkvision

"You've got a holy knight here, Arianna," replies Luthael. "A holy knight of the Lord of Sunlight who brings the radiance to his unholy cellar." He presents his bejeweled symbol of Khors causing a brilliant stream of sunlight to bathe the room dispelling any magical darkness and leaving a holy lance behind to attack the unholy creature.

Dawn of Radiance Con DC 17 for half radiant: 2d10 + 8 ⇒ (10, 3) + 8 = 21

Spiritual Weapon round 1 of 10: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 241d8 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12


CG Female Windrunner Elf Bard (College of Valor) 8 HP: 50/50, HD: 9/9| AC: 14 | Saves: STR +1 DEX* +7 CON +1 INT +0 WIS +1 CHA* +7 | Perception: +7, Investigate: +1, Insight: +2 | Inspiration (d8): 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4 2nd 3/3 3rd 3/3 4th 3/3 5th 1/1 | Arrows: 0, Taqa's Arrows: 9, Bolts: 6, Insp: No

"My apologies, Lutheal," Arianna says. "I should have said we could use another one."


Male Northlands Dwarf | Abjuration Wizard 9 | AC 21 | 59/65 HP (0/23 tHP)| Saves: Str: +1, Dex: +2, Con: +3, Int: +9, Wis:+4, Cha: -1 | See Invisibility, Fire Shield Status 4 | Initiative +2 | Speed 25 | Perception +0 |Insight +0 | Investigation +5 | Character Sheet |

Bringing up the rear of the pack, Gunnar sees the holy cleric rather busy directly facing the tentacled foe. So, Gunnar turns his thoughts towards the artifact in his hands, trying to unravel its mystery at least well enough to invoke its holy power and focus it on the evil foe before them.

Arcana: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15


3 people marked this as a favorite.
female Bearfolk Grizzlekin Barbarian 9th|HP 74/116|AC:16|Prof:+4|S:+8 D:+1 C:+8 I:+0 W:+0 Ch:+0|Resist:Cold|Rage 4/4 Dmg:+3

Hearing the words Grieving Mother, yet seeing the perversion, such depravity did not sit well. Having been mostly passive in emotion through this was not the same here.

" GRIEVING MOTHER YOU ARE NOT" Ingryd roared. It was a soreowful rage. One of loss and heart ache." You know NOTHING OF GRIEF DEMON!!!"Rage

Ingryd throws herself forward with wild abandon. Even though she often has some self awareness and battlefield tactics this was different. The golden bees buzzing around here seem even more agitated then usual.

Hammer: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Smash: 2d6 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (3, 6) + 5 + 2 = 16
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 6

" WHAT CHILDREN DID YOU BEAR INSIDE, WHAT LOVE AND HOPE DID THIER LIVES LOST CAUSE YOU! WHAT HEART DOES BEAT HEAVY IN YOIR CHEST!!! WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF LOSS" came the roars as she strikes again

Hammer: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27
Smash: 2d6 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (4, 1) + 5 + 2 = 12
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 1


jewel thief ★ 50/50 hp 16 AC ★ 10.18.10.14.14.9 ★ HD 9 ★ thieves*, Perc*, Stealth*, Sleight*, Acro, Ath, Inv, Hist, jewelers, poisoners ★ Inspiration
Spell Storage:
Find Familiar, Enhance Ability, Silence

Dek Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24 A masterful nat 20 sniff
Nose Advantage: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19
Drunk: 1d20 ⇒ 13

I think I had finally snapped out of it by the time the old lady showed up, me head cleared by the rush of battle maybe. Had the strange flavor of a bunch of prisoner crotches scrambled up in me psyche, as my new companion stolen from Aterro's magics hunted the changeling outside. But I was near death, and had to really focus...one misstep, sos I told myself, and I'd be cold as that lump of bearded face peerin' up through the tentacles...

Sling Attack (+2 ammo): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25 +2 if demon, devil, or undead...guessing that might not be the case here
Sneak Soulstone: 1d4 + 4d6 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + (1, 2, 1, 6) + 4 + 2 = 17

Bonus Hide: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23

I snapped a whip of one of them patriarch marbles before puttin' the wall between me and that bloated b&$%$, lingerin' only long enough to see if the magic stone had any real effect.


The first of Arianna's arrows slithers aside from its intended target as a smoke black shield reveals itself just before the steel tipped shaft strikes. But the elf's aim and determination are not to be permanently thwarted as her second arrow suffers no such fate. It sinks deep into the bloated body causing a cacophony of disharmonious shrieks to echo from a hundred broken souls as tentacles swirl and lash in sudden rage and pain.

Arianna's concerned call for holy firepower is calmly answered as the holy prophet of Khors steps forward to unleash the power of the sun within this sanctum of darkness. Light explodes forth from Luthael's holy symbol. Bloated flesh sizzles and withers as slithering tentacles momentarily retreat to the shadows. But a few seconds later the shadows and darkness return and some of the blistering wounds fade as quickly as the formed.

"Weak old foo1! Father light. Sun god. Bah!" Blathers the bloated bi^ch from her elevated perch. "God of piss and sour breathed drunkards is more like for those are all who follow your teachings these days. That and corrupted blowhards who bellow while stealing the...*OOF* "

The thundering smack of Ingryd's hammer blows and shouted reprisal temporarily quiets the chaos priestess. The twin blows send ripples roiling through her fleshy pond and on up through the tentacles and webbing. For several seconds everything vibrates until the force of the blows finally dissipates leaving two pale maul shaped marks upon the creature's void dark flesh.

Taking up position on the side of the door opposite Arianna, Scramsax let's fly a bullet from his sling. The perfectly round magical stone hit with a satisfying thwack against flabby flesh. The creature looks for the source of this second attack, but sees nothing beyond elf, bearkin, and prophet.

In the hall, Gunnar once again studies the globe. Watches the spinning images of the young girl and her journey from hope to love to grief and terror once again. This time his notices the face of the shadow veiled evil who hands the child to the grim, passionless shadow elf. It takes a moment or two for the dwarf to see the actual physical connections. The same small eyes. Jowly cheeks and at that moment only a double chin now turned triple. In the globe she too wears the flaming owl of Florien. It can be no other but Rupert's mother. But knowing such a fact is of little help. Seeing and feeling how the spirit trapped in the globe longs to once again face this evil creature, the dwarf can only feel certain it would be a help and certainly not hinder their cause should he openly bring the globe into the chamber.

Back in the chamber the beast of the Goat rallies against the intruders. Tentacles lash at the bearkin and prophet. Ingryd easily parries and blocks the blows. Luthael attempts the same but one of the void limbs slams into the priest's side knocking him back a pace and leaving a blackened stain upon his armor and robes.

The bloated behemoth then starts to cough and gack like a pitbull choking on bone. A great convulsion spasm ripples from somewhere in the depths of the hideous belly up through its chest and eventually its gaping mouth. Spewing forth is a toxic brew of void sludge that expands as it passes across the room to eventually fill the open doorway with a foul dripping wall of sticky acidic slime and sludge. The blockade effectively sealing off those trapped inside the chamber from those still lingering outside.

Luthael takes 9 points of damage from one tentacle hit.

The door to the chamber is blocked by the wall of void slime.

Party is up.

DM Rolls:

CON save vs DC17: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23

Perception vs DC23: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Tentacle vs Ingryd: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Tentacle vs Luthael: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

Priestess of the Goat: 106/200


Outside the manor...

Dekatron catches the scent from several feet away. A blend of ale mixed with...emptiness. It is the lack of scent that is the true giveaway for the leopard. Every other human creature lying passed out among the weeds and rocks reeks of dirt, filth, starvation and sickness. But not the one over partially hidden by a ragged snowberry bush.

Pilbury...Porter...Pottersly...the name of the villager escapes Scramsax for the moment although she is certain it started with a P and that the fellow had made jugs, plates, and all manner of other knickknacks before his village fell under the sway of the ghouls. Of course it didn't really matter now. If the changeling was wearing his skin, old Pottman...no definitely not it...well, he was likely dead at this point.

Stifling a feline sigh, Dekatron waits patently to see if his mistress wants him to do more than simply sniff out the sneaky imposter.


jewel thief ★ 50/50 hp 16 AC ★ 10.18.10.14.14.9 ★ HD 9 ★ thieves*, Perc*, Stealth*, Sleight*, Acro, Ath, Inv, Hist, jewelers, poisoners ★ Inspiration
Spell Storage:
Find Familiar, Enhance Ability, Silence

I admit I reflexed a strong wince, when that gas bag was trashin' my Prophet like that. Made me sort of glad to see that wall of slime spring up, cause I had the feeling it was about to get real hot in there. Not to mention the undeniable Mark of the Damned Griz had just set fast upon the thing.

That slime had smarted me once, pretending to be an open window...I weren't about to make the same mistake twice. If a geyser of Iron Stag couldn't penetrate, were little even the sharpest Widow's silver scalpel could do. Seemed a good poke couldn't hurt though.

Using action to make an investigation, poking the slime with my 10 ft pole looking for a way to collapse the obstinate obstacle.
Investigation: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Gettin' through that dwarven made wall though...well, now that were somethin' of a theif's expertise. Were there good reason and a bit o' time for the paint to dry, that is. A painted hole just big enough to pass the globe through would take 3 rounds, so probably need some other way to deal with the slime.

Meanwhile Dek kept sending me death pics of that ranger Phin, broken by the Blood Sisters or somethin' outside. But as I listened to the purrin' echo numb in the back of me mind, it flashed onto me: she had found the changeling. Best to go for the quick kill while it was down, we both decided. Dek hadn't had a good meal since the summoning.

Dek Attacks:

Pounce ability
Dek Claw: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Dek Claw, unconscious advantage?: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Slashing: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Unconscious auto-crit?: 1d4 ⇒ 2
-
Dek Bite: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22 Attack as bonus action conditional on if above Claw hits...so probably not :(
Dek Bite, unsconscious advantage?: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Piercing: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
Unconscious auto-crit?: 1d6 ⇒ 4


Male Northlands Dwarf | Abjuration Wizard 9 | AC 21 | 59/65 HP (0/23 tHP)| Saves: Str: +1, Dex: +2, Con: +3, Int: +9, Wis:+4, Cha: -1 | See Invisibility, Fire Shield Status 4 | Initiative +2 | Speed 25 | Perception +0 |Insight +0 | Investigation +5 | Character Sheet |

Gunnar moves up to the obstruction, carefully cradling the glass globe behind his shield. Calling upon the power of Thor, he emanates a sonic boom that shakes everything adjacent to him, hopefully dissipating the blockage.

Gunnar then raises the globe high and pushes forward into the room, fearlessly presenting it before the corrupted priestess!

Wrath of the Gods (Thunderclap) Sonic Damage: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (6, 6) + 1 = 13 +1 more if undead


CG Female Windrunner Elf Bard (College of Valor) 8 HP: 50/50, HD: 9/9| AC: 14 | Saves: STR +1 DEX* +7 CON +1 INT +0 WIS +1 CHA* +7 | Perception: +7, Investigate: +1, Insight: +2 | Inspiration (d8): 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4 2nd 3/3 3rd 3/3 4th 3/3 5th 1/1 | Arrows: 0, Taqa's Arrows: 9, Bolts: 6, Insp: No

Which side of the wall of goo is Arianna on? I think she's on the outside.


Arianna: Outside I believe. It seemed like both you and Scramsax were using the doorway as a bit of cover.


CG Female Windrunner Elf Bard (College of Valor) 8 HP: 50/50, HD: 9/9| AC: 14 | Saves: STR +1 DEX* +7 CON +1 INT +0 WIS +1 CHA* +7 | Perception: +7, Investigate: +1, Insight: +2 | Inspiration (d8): 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4 2nd 3/3 3rd 3/3 4th 3/3 5th 1/1 | Arrows: 0, Taqa's Arrows: 9, Bolts: 6, Insp: No

Yup, she was. Thanks for confirming that.

Arianna looks at the wall of ooze and then to Gunnar and Scramsax. The halfling thief seems to be busy poking the wall, but the dwarven wizard seems to have a plan. Arianna moves to line up a shot through the door and waits.

Readied Attack on bloated, tentacled, whachamacallit: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
Damage in the unlikely event that hits: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7


Elfmarked Light Cleric of Khors 9 | HP 51/71 | HD 9/9d8 | Flare 2/4 | Channel 2/2+1 | Power 2/2 | 1st 3/4 | 2nd 3/3 | 3rd 0/3 | 4th 2/3 | 5th 1/1 | Inspiration!
Stats:
AC 18 | Str +0, Dex +2, Con +6, Int +1, Wis +8, Cha +5 | Initiative +2 | Perception +8, Darkvision

Warding Flare: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
shooter’s proof. 45 -9 = 36 HP

Luthael flinches as a tentacle snakes toward him causing a flash of brilliant sunlight.

The prophet laughs at the trash the evil priestess spews. He raises his bejeweled sunburst amulet and sends a sacred flame into the belly of the beast.

Sacred Flame Dex DC 17: 3d8 ⇒ (2, 7, 1) = 10

Spiritual Weapon: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 171d8 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12


female Bearfolk Grizzlekin Barbarian 9th|HP 74/116|AC:16|Prof:+4|S:+8 D:+1 C:+8 I:+0 W:+0 Ch:+0|Resist:Cold|Rage 4/4 Dmg:+3

Sorrowful roars echo and rumble as Ingryd works just on instinct. The Warrior was only a warrior because of her loss. This thing was a corrupted horror. A creature from nightmare itself claiming its child was that fallen warrior.

No fears and sorrow fueled her. Tears streamed down her muzzle cloudong her eyes as she angrily swung seeking to send this creature back to whatever hell it came from.

Hammer Strike: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27
Smash: 2d6 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (3, 2) + 5 + 2 = 12
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 4

Hammer down: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11
Inspiration: 1d10 ⇒ 9
Slam: 2d6 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (1, 5) + 5 + 2 = 13
fire: 1d6 ⇒ 4


Scramsax pokes at the churning, dripping wall of cosmic sludge. Fortunately, the halfling notices the smoke boiling from the end of her 9' pole before anymore of the hardwood disappears into the chaos slime. Gunnar's sonic magic does little more than ripple the surface of the mass causing to jiggle and waggle like some old man's fleshy chin. Foiled, the dwarf mutters ill favored curses upon the dark magic, his hand holding the globe pulling back from the wood and likely flesh dissolving mass. But before he can repocket the globe the constant tune suddenly changes. The figure inside, still the same shepherd girl, but now she is draped in angelic armor and surrounded by the golden aura of Lada. An arm points forward and a beam of golden light issues forth from the globe. It strikes the writhing slime.

Acid hisses and pops like a snake on hot coals as the chaos barrier begins to break down and give way to the unleashed power held within the globe. Within moments a foot wide hole opens up in the barrier. A few seconds longer and the opening is wide enough for Arianna to step through and unleash an arrow at the unholy entity still spewing forth her hate filled bile at Luthael and Ingryd. The elf's keen sight is thrown off by the shear raw chaos pulsing through the chamber. Her arrow flys wind and sticks into one of the massive tentacles. A pinprick to a dragon that is hardly felt by the hate filled entity.

Luthael gains the upper hand in the battle of wills and wits. The radiant light of Khors power once again scorches flesh and burns away the unholy corruption of the dark goddess. He brings the spiritual spear of Khors around the creatures flank hoping to catch her off guard, but at the very last moment a tentacle slides across the holy weapons path and barely knocks it aside.

A few feet in front of the prophey Ingryd rains a series of blows upon the beast. Rocked by her own surging feelings the bearkin channels her own sorrow and misgivings into a fast furious series of strikes that leave the creature momentarily baffled and vulnerable. The bearkin lashes out, pivots, and lands a hard blow directly to the beast's midsection. Unfortunately, her footing slips a little and her second blow ends up going wild.

Tentacles lash out once again at the two warriors. The first misses Luthael as the priest easily wards off the undulating limb. Ingryd too slips aside from the creatures slapping arms and escapes any further harm from that direction.

Party is up.

GM rolls:

CON Save vs DC17: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

Tentacle Attack vs. Luthael: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Tentacle Attack vs Ingryd: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
Tentacle DisAd Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Damage: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Priestess of the Goat: 80/200


Outside the manor...

Dekatron leaps at the disguised shapechanger. Thinking it unconscious like the others, the big cat is caught by surprise as it rolls aside at the last minute. It's eyes popping open to reveal inhuman swirling eldritch light boiling with hatred. The village imposter rolls to its feet and snarls a ragged smile.

"Tricky, tricky kitty." The changeling hisses. "Bad kitty. Now I will have to teach you a lesson." It leaps forward unsheathing a set of completely inhuman claws from the seemingly human looking hands. The move takes the started leopard by surprise, but fortunately the strength behind the strike is weaker than it could have been.

Dekatron takes 4 points of damage

DM rolls:

Claw Attack: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Changeling HP: 60/60


Elfmarked Light Cleric of Khors 9 | HP 51/71 | HD 9/9d8 | Flare 2/4 | Channel 2/2+1 | Power 2/2 | 1st 3/4 | 2nd 3/3 | 3rd 0/3 | 4th 2/3 | 5th 1/1 | Inspiration!
Stats:
AC 18 | Str +0, Dex +2, Con +6, Int +1, Wis +8, Cha +5 | Initiative +2 | Perception +8, Darkvision

Luthael grimaces as the creature hits Ingryd again while she misses. At least, the unholiness has shut up.

Khors! Release this lost priestess! Sever her connection with the Goat! Rid Midgard of one more evil monster!" A flash of holy sunlight streaks from his bejeweled amulet searing the priestess. "Strike there Ingryd where Khors has branded!"

Meanwhile, the holy spear of sunlight twirls as if wielded by an unseen knight and plunges into the soon to be carcass of the priestess.

Guiding Bolt: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 224d6 ⇒ (1, 1, 6, 1) = 9

Ingryd, next shot has advantage!

Spiritual Weapon: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 221d8 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11


Male Northlands Dwarf | Abjuration Wizard 9 | AC 21 | 59/65 HP (0/23 tHP)| Saves: Str: +1, Dex: +2, Con: +3, Int: +9, Wis:+4, Cha: -1 | See Invisibility, Fire Shield Status 4 | Initiative +2 | Speed 25 | Perception +0 |Insight +0 | Investigation +5 | Character Sheet |

Gunnar strides boldly into the room, pivoting the globe so the beam of holy light emanating from the artifact is focused as directly at the core of this horrific creature. He focuses as best he can on keeping a steady platform for the attacking angel inside the sphere, but he remains wary for any tentacles that might try and disrupt him, keeping a firm grip on the globe.

(intending to move in and use his action to Dodge, more or less letting the angel within the globe do the heavy lifting on attacking the evil priestess.)


jewel thief ★ 50/50 hp 16 AC ★ 10.18.10.14.14.9 ★ HD 9 ★ thieves*, Perc*, Stealth*, Sleight*, Acro, Ath, Inv, Hist, jewelers, poisoners ★ Inspiration
Spell Storage:
Find Familiar, Enhance Ability, Silence

Scramsax and Dekatron both felt at that moment the cold truth of the battle outside...it was an unwinnable fight. Both were resigned to fate, their short-lived relationship a fluke of fancy, likely never to be repeated especially with the disappearance of Atterro.

Still, Dekatron could possibly help in one last way: if a single claw strike could be landed, the changeling's flesh would then be scarred. A mark Scramsax would remember in her friend's absence.

Claw: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Dekatron hp: 9/13

-----

Inside, the halfling's fate was almost as certain to be doomed. Glancing at her magic ring and remembering the waltz with a snicker, the Barsellan resigned to at least go out with a laugh. Striding into the open doorway, the ringed fist leveled at the bloated monster, a voice of the heavens sounded forth from Scramsax's mouth: "~DANCE~, baby, dance."

Casting Command with Invictusol's spellcasting mods. Wis save. Then retreating for cover/stealth.

Bonus Hide: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28


jewel thief ★ 50/50 hp 16 AC ★ 10.18.10.14.14.9 ★ HD 9 ★ thieves*, Perc*, Stealth*, Sleight*, Acro, Ath, Inv, Hist, jewelers, poisoners ★ Inspiration
Spell Storage:
Find Familiar, Enhance Ability, Silence

Oops, sorry I always make mistakes when I post from work. Forgot damage...and forgot I was doing Scram in past tense. :/

Claw: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3


CG Female Windrunner Elf Bard (College of Valor) 8 HP: 50/50, HD: 9/9| AC: 14 | Saves: STR +1 DEX* +7 CON +1 INT +0 WIS +1 CHA* +7 | Perception: +7, Investigate: +1, Insight: +2 | Inspiration (d8): 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4 2nd 3/3 3rd 3/3 4th 3/3 5th 1/1 | Arrows: 0, Taqa's Arrows: 9, Bolts: 6, Insp: No

Sorry, No witty banter from me tonight.

Attack 1 (Longbow) vs. Mrs. Smother-Bloatmonster y Tentacle: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

Attack 2 (Longbow) vs. Mrs. Smother-Bloatmonster y Tentacle: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

Two arrows go sailing off into the void, clipping through the room to be lost forever.

> Midgard.exe has performed an illegal operation and must be shut down. Proceed? (y/n)
>_


female Bearfolk Grizzlekin Barbarian 9th|HP 74/116|AC:16|Prof:+4|S:+8 D:+1 C:+8 I:+0 W:+0 Ch:+0|Resist:Cold|Rage 4/4 Dmg:+3

Ingryd roars her lamented rage pouring out. The face of her sweet children, The touch of her husband all gone. Taken from her by a hag who worled for the deadones. This loss remained, but was filled with wrath and righteousness. This anger granted by the Hive Mother is for horrors such as these. In times where other simple folk like she once was get to keep living with there family. A Family she had loss.

Strike: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
Advant: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22
Smash: 2d6 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (1, 3) + 5 + 2 = 11
Sizzle: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Strike: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Smash: 2d6 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (5, 2) + 5 + 2 = 14
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 1

7,251 to 7,300 of 7,588 << first < prev | 141 | 142 | 143 | 144 | 145 | 146 | 147 | 148 | 149 | 150 | 151 | next > last >>
Community / Forums / Online Campaigns / Play-by-Post / 5E Adventure's in Midgard – North (Reaver's Spring) - Gameplay All Messageboards

Want to post a reply? Sign in.