GM ShadowLord's Tyrant's Grasp - Group 2 (Inactive)

Game Master The Rising Phoenix

Sarela continues her giggling fit as the phantom appears next to her, then attempts to slash at it with her dagger.

Attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Mithralline, wanting to keep the spirit focused on her, retreats a step and then jabs with her lance before pulling the trident, her shield falling into place in the same motion.

Unfortunately, thoughts on her next move, she misses badly with the lance.

5-ft. step and attack, then drop the lance, move action to grab my trident and swift action to equip my quick draw shield
Trident: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 5 + 2 = 8 This is getting old, die-roller
Damage: 1d8 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 3 + 2 = 7

I can't believe how bad the collective rolls for the party are for this combat.

Aralah downs a healing potion, regaining some semblance of life in her body.

Sarela tries to slash at the phantom, but she realizes after the fact that she really didn't try very hard. She is does focus on her giggling however, continuing to bestow the bad luck on Garrid.

Mithralline's trident isn't any more effective than any other weapon the party has tried against the phantom.

Rose and Sam are up. Potentially Laurel as well if he gets healed.

Sam steps forward and casts a spell on Mithralline to help her fight the evil ghost!

Protection from evil. Two spells spent.

Laurel stays on the ground as Rose once more offers guidance to Mithralline on her next attack.

The witch's annoying laughter had finally irritated the phantom enough. He turns towards her and let two more punches fly, both of them connecting in rapid succession. 8+8=16 damage. That's minimum damage!

As she drops to the ground and the laughter stops, Garrid finally focuses on Mithralline. Cracking his knuckles after each word, he says "You're. Next. Ready?"

R7: Rose, Aralah, Sarela, Mithralline, Samalgee R8: Laurel, Garrid

With some healing and a little distance between her and the phantom Aralah takes some more shots in hopes of helping her companions.

Attack, Bless: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 + 1 = 15
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 6
Flurry: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 + 1 = 15
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 2

Sam cries out in concern as Sarela falls and grabs her necklace, pumping out more healing energy. "Get up, Sarela!"

Healing to everyone within 30 ft of Sam but not the phantom, of course: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Stabilizes Sarela but unfortunately isn't enough to get her back on her feet.

"Do your worst, you ghost!" Mithralline responds, stabbing with her trident.

Trident: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 5 + 1 = 17 +1 more if I get a guidance, though I may not this round
Damage: 1d8 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 3 + 2 = 8

My attacks are both +1 damage forgot to include my judgement buff to damage, not that I think it matters.

Even with my current AC of 16, he overcame the Misfortune enough to drop me, huh?

It does look kind of like attack 2 actually was a miss. I think GM probably didn't know you had mage armor up since it wasn't listed?

I'd actually been posting the effects of the shield spell on the previous page, but forgot to for this one. I'm updating my stat line to reflect it. GM, did the second attack miss?

Ah that makes sense. Was just guessing mage armor.

Sorry for the delay, I've been sick. It would appear you are correct, I didn't see Sarela had shield up last round when I checked and so that second attack should have missed and she should still be standing. One of those 8 damage rolls didn't go through.

Rose and Sarela are up still this round.

Sarela takes a hit to the face, but her shield intercepts the follow-up. As Sam's healing washes over her, she continues to laugh in the face of the accursed phantom, then adopts a defensive stance and strikes with her dagger.

Fight Defensively, AC is 18.

Attack, fight defensively: 1d20 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (1) + 2 - 4 = -1

She's not very effective with it.

Mithralline's attack missed Garrid, or at least it should have. As she thrusts her trident towards the phantom, Rose reached out and touched her shoulder which guided her attack and helped the tip of the trident shift an inch to the left where it impacted the phantom's shoulder. Though most of her damage was not transferred to the phantom, at least it showed they could still injure it.

Garrid turns his attention back to Mithralline and completely misses Sarela's ineffective strike at the phantom. "My pleasure!" he screams as he throws two more punches at Mithralline. While he misses on the first, his second one connects even though that annoying witch is still giggling at him. Her laughter unnerved him so much that once again he delivers a minimum mount of damage with his fist. 8 damage

R7: Rose, Aralah, Sarela, Mithralline, Samalgee R8: Laurel, Garrid

I'm seriously wishing I could so something more than guidance.

Rose keeps praying for Mith's attacks to succeed.

You could attack with your longsword. I know you're only rolling a d20, but it overcomes the phantom's damage reduction, so even a lucky hit would be highly effective.

Sarela maintains her defensive weave as she continues giggling at the phantom, hoping that Sam can keep Mithralline from falling. She isn't sure how long she could hold out if the phantom focused on her completely.

Fighting Defensively for an 18 AC.

Attack, fighting defensively: 1d20 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (12) + 2 - 4 = 10

Oooo - double digits!

Why aren't we getting slashing weapons into the hands of our biggest damage dealer? Mith would probably have dropped it by now with her damage output.

Could also try aid another as a different option.

Mithralline spits a little blood out.

"Was that supposed to hurt? I'm not even sure you really hit me," she taunts.

Trident: 1d20 + 5 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 5 + 2 + 1 = 16
Damage: 1d8 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 3 + 2 = 12

I think if dice bot would also let me roll just average we'd also have dealt with this guy.

Aralah launches two more arrows in quick succesion hoping that the more shots she gets off the more likely she is to actually hit the ghost.

Attack, Bless: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 + 1 = 15
Damage, Judgement: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
Flurry: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 + 1 = 11
Damage, Judgement: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Aralah, Sarela and Mithralline continue to have trouble with the phantom. If it isn't his skin seems to resist most of their weapons, it's the fact that he moves so quickly and jukes away from their attacks at the last second. Once more both the parties attack all miss Garrid.

Sam is up.

Sam channels again to keep her allies fighting!

Channel: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Should probably flank that guy too.

Garrid laughs at the ineptness of the party in combat. Though severely outnumbered, he is slowly whittling them down and they don't seem to be able to stop him. His confidence grows as mockingly laughs at you all. "Pathetic!"

The phantom just keeps swinging away at Mithralline. His first punch connects in her chest and she is pretty sure a rib breaks from the impact, her internal organs crying out from inside her body. She knows another punch like that would send her to the ground and turn the tide of the battle (10 Damage). He taunts "How about that one? Did you feel that one? I felt your bones breaking! HA!"

R8: Rose, Aralah, Sarela, Mithralline, Samalgee R9: Laurel, Garrid

That's enough healing to make me conscious. GM can I act this round? If so:

Laurel gasps, taking in a large but shaky breath. Seeing his allies are still fighting he calls to Mithralline. "Mith, catch!" He tosses his scimitar, edge up without putting any spin on it.

Move action to grab weapon, I assume a standard to toss it to Mith? We really need her with a slashing weapon.

7th verse, same as the last...however many. These dice are just killing us. Could someone 5-foot step me into a flank?

Sarela continues giggling, hoping Sam can keep Mithralline on her feet while she continues trying to cut the phantom.

Attack, Fight Defensively: 1d20 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (13) + 2 - 4 = 11

At the rate my attack rolls keep increasing, I'm sure I'll hit him in about...six rounds or so. AC is 18, still.

Please do Laurel, they need your help.

Aralah is happy to see Laurel brought back to consciousness. Even though things are going poorly at least everyone is still alive. She fires another couple of shots.

Attack, Bless: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 + 1 = 21
Damage, Judgement: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Flurry: 1d20 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 + 1 = 18
Damage, Judgement: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Rose sees that her spells are not having enough of an effect steps to the side of Mith and attacks the phantom with her longsword.

Longsword, Bless: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 8

"Did you hit me? I must have missed it," Mithralline says through gritted teeth.

She drops her trident as the blade comes in her direction and snatches it out of the air, swinging it once in a circle to get the feel of the weapon and then slashing it toward the ghost.

Assuming A) I can catch it; B) I have a flank set up
Scimitar: 1d20 + 5 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 5 + 1 + 2 = 17 Possible 18, see below
Damage: 1d6 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 3 + 2 = 9

Also, I realized that I'm not sure we ever finalized our teamwork feat. If Laurel and I both have Ferocious Loyalty, I think I should have an additional +1 to hit (Whenever an ally with this feat is rendered helpless or killed within 30 feet of you, you gain a +2 morale bonus on attack rolls for 1 minute or until the foe responsible is rendered helpless or killed, whichever comes first, and since Laurel was knocked unconscious). I have a +1 from bless, but this would make that +2 instead.

I thought everyone had decided on Lookout per the last thread on this in discussion. If that is not the case, please speak up about it.
I'll wait to weigh in on Miths's action until this is settled.

The tide of momentum seems to suddenly shift. Both of Aralah's arrows land on Garrid and Rose's longsword connects with a rather devastating blow. It doesn't send Garrid to the ground, but it definitely catches him by surprise.

Sam is up.

Spinning to catch the flung blade, she drops her trident just in time to catch the scimitar. After trying it out twice, she looks down at her fallen ally and realizes she can't let another ally get pummeled by Garrid, sparking a fire inside of her. With hidden reserves she find it inside of her to push past the fact that her attack was about to miss and find a way to punish this phantom. Laurel's blade cuts deep into the phantom which causes his body to shimmer and fade, Garrid screaming in protest as his form begins to fade from sight.

Out of combat.

Arabella looks on as her ancestor disappears from sight, awestruck and confused.

Aralah lets out a sigh of relief as the phantom vanishes. She walks back over to the others as she shakes her head "That was rough..." Looking at everyone that is wounded she notes "I still have some power to heal someones wounds for who ever needs it the most."

Channel: 1d6 ⇒ 51d6 ⇒ 51d6 ⇒ 6

Laurel stands, washing energy over the party as he does so. By the time he stands his wounds are almost gone. He moves to Mith and quietly takes his scimitar back, looking at where Garrid's form shimmered out. "I am sorry we couldn't help you."

"See how his form vanishes? Not alive, figments and ghosts."

Sarela drops to the ground, exhausted and breathing heavily. Her wounds had been healed, but she still ached, and the events of the day had just been so much that she just needed a moment to sit, process, and think about things. She was just so tired.

Arabella stares at the form of Garrid as he disappears. When Laurel mentions he was a figment and ghost, she asks "Did. Did you just kill my ancestor?"

Toss me out a diplomacy to persuade her and the other members of the town council gathered around her that they are in fact dead.

"No. He has been dead for a long time, and this should serve as proof. If he were alive like he said, why would his body not be lying here at our feet? Why did he vanish like some sort of illusion? Your eyes play tricks on you. But it is time to open them and see the truth around you. You are all...gone." He says, jaw set hard.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8 Pfffffttt

Sarela looked up. Her eyes were still red-rimmed from crying over her uncle, and she looked tired and exhausted. The past 24 hour had been much like that fateful day all those years ago, when Roslar's Coffer had been destroyed, and her father had died in the blaze. Standing, fixing Arabella with a stare, she said, "No. Your ancestor served during the Shining Crusade. The Crusade ended 892 years ago - no one from that time remains alive. What you saw was a phantom - a lost, angry soul desperately searching for a person to connect to. It was not your ancestor, merely a remnant of himself. He has been granted peace, now - peace in this life and the next. It is the same peace that now all of you must accept. Look around you. The sky is wrong, the trees and plants stunted, withered, dead. The buildings are nothing more than spectral images, a shadowy replication of Roslar's Coffer as you remember it. You, and all of Roslar's Coffer are in the Boneyard, the domain of Pharasma. We are here because some catastrophe struck the town last night, killing everyone. There is nowhere to return to. There is no going back. All that is left is to make peace with what happened, and to move on to accept Pharasma's judgement and go to your place in the afterlife. Please. The psychopomps will come, and they will force you to accept this fate. Please. Listen."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

Rose sighs with relief at the narrow victory as the phantom dissipates, "That was too close."

With a game smile she adds, "This place is poorly run. How can the dead not know they're dead?"

Arabella listens.

As Sarela explains in great detail and with such convincing words, Arabella relents and nods. "I see."

She turns to face the other three council members and huddles with them briefly, talking in hushed tones among themselves. After two minutes of deliberation, she turns back to Sarela and the group at large. "We've come to an agreement. We find your argument valid and agree that we should assist. We think the mayor should address the townspeople and tell us all the truth. We are going to talk with her now."

She looks over to a massive dead oak tree about a fifty feet away where a dozen children are playing. "Would you be so kind as to inform the children while we set off on this task?"

Agreeing, the foursome sets off to talk to the mayor while you head across the courtyard towards the children who are playing around a massive, dead oak tree tie with ribbons and unusually vibrant flowers. A large crow with white tops on its feathers watches over the children below. A few children from town recognize you and immediately crowd around you. "DID YOU KNOW WE DIED?!" one asks excitedly?

"We are totally dead!" laughs another.

Did you know? Did you know?" giggles a third.

Sam's shoulders slump in relief when the horrible phantom stops striking her friends with such weird, inexplicably tangible force. She helps bandage up the others while Laurel pumps out some more healing.

When asked to help with the children, she nods with a weak smile. "Of course." Heading over to the old oak she knew so well, she calls to the children. "Hey? What are you playing? Can I join?" Then she winces a little as one of them begins the difficult conversation with less tact than she would like. "Well, yeah... I did... I know this is strange for some of us but we can still play and stick together. Everything will be fine. Should we tell jokes?" she asks, half-heartedly giggling along.

"Yes! Games! Please, oh oh, please?!" they cheer to Sam.

During the game, the children describe how a woman with a beautiful voice spoke to them through her pet bird. She told them to be good and be brave and that she would be there soon to make everything right.

As the children speak, a large crow with white wing tips lands atop a child’s head and opens its beak. A lyrical voice ushers forth, with a curious, lilting accent. "Ah, newcomers, you must be the curiosities I heard tell of. I am Mictena, and I cordially welcome you to the Boneyard and eternity. Do not fret about your unusual condition; I shall be with you shortly to correct this horrible error and help you on your way to the final rest you have earned!"

When the bird speaks about correcting the error and sending them to their final rest Aralah stiffens up. She pulls her companions aside and wueitly asks ”Do we need to find those other creatures from before? They said they could get us out if we helped. We’ve helped so, maybe we should go find them?”

Earlier
Mithralline stands taller as the phantom fades away.

"See, I told you you weren't going to win against me!" she says with satisfaction.

She stands taller as the healing forces wash over her, restoring her to full health, hale and hearty as she's ever been, whether dead or not.

Later
Mithralline nods at Aralah's suggestion.

"That sounds smart. We probably need to rest to at some point. I'm good for another couple fights, but I don't know if I can keep all of you safe," she says.

The white tip crow watches your party, following your movement. As Aralah pulls you aside, the bird flies to a large branch of the tree overtop of you and continues to observe, not letting you move out of its sight.

Sam enjoys the game greatly, though she's slower than any of the children, even without her armor.

Later

Sam looks at the bird quizzically and nods to Aralah. "Yeah... That's probably a good idea..."

Laurel stares at the bird suspiciously.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

The crow stares back at Laurel, meeting his gaze. It squawks and the female voice returns "I know you are frightened, my children. Change is always frightening, but I will make it soft and swift, like a mother’s kiss. You’ll feel only love. There is nothing to fear, all will be right soon."

Laurel turns away from the crow, making sure it can't see his face. He lowers his voice, speaking to Sarela. "That creature is here to cause harm, and it is singling out the children. Are there any creatures on these planes that would align with such goals? I fear malicious entities may be preying on these lost souls before they are lead to their resting place."

Sarela was relieved the children seemed to be handling this change very well. Leave it to the youngest to find joy in being dead. Sam's distraction and playing with them was a boon as well.

Turning her attention to the crow, she stares at it, tapping her lip thoughtfully. At Laurel's question, she turns her back to it and thinks.

Knowledge (planes): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

Frowning, she says quietly, "I don't know of any off-hand, but I'm not sure that's what's going on here. When the crow saw us, it knew us for the...curiosities...we are. I think only the psychopomps would know of our unusual state. I suspect his Mictena is a psychopomp. Unlike the other two psychopomps we met, however, she is less...welcoming...to our living state in the Boneyard, and likely intends to kill us properly. Let me think if I've ever heard of a Mictena..."

Knowledge (planes) on Mictena: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27