When you depart you head to where Soul Stalls should be.
On your way you observe a city block with several collapsed buildings and a deep furrow cut through the earth as if by an enormous burrowing creature. You quickly realize that this corresponds to a portion of the city that overlays Absalom’s Radiant Festival fairgrounds, which recently faced destruction caused by a runaway machine.
The Soul Stalls are an outlandish marketplace located outside and just to the west of Shadow Absalom’s walls. Here, the imprisoned souls of mortals are bought and sold, a vile trade practiced most often by daemons and night hags. The marketplace serves to separate this trade from the rest of Shadow Absalom, while keeping the activities out in the open, where Argrinyxia can observe and regulate them. All entrances to the Stalls are marked by a group of sigils...
You recognize a clustered quartet of the religious symbols of the daemonic Horsemen of Abaddon.
You identify the symbol of Alazhra the Dream Eater, divine patron of night hags.
You recognize the final and largest symbol, that of Shadow Absalom’s draconic ruler Argrinyxia. Collectively, the symbols convey the notion that the soul trade is both allowed and protected within the Stalls, but to remain here and here alone within its demarcated and permitted locale.
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Fangor don't seems to had problems dealing with the undead nor to have to go to the Soul Market.
If nobody wants the necromancer's gift, I don't mind. he says with his soft and melodious voice.
Fangor recognize most of the symbols and sees the young shadow dragon, that seems to be the guardian and keeper of the place.
He shares what he knows and sees with his comrades.
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Dr. Lazarus sips on his brandy and takes notes as Rensivir and Viriseth discuss the Onyx Alliance and Marcien Blakros. Never having seen a lich before, the haughty Doctor is most impressed. This is unusual as he is not impressed by much.
He clears his throat, "My dear, Viriseth. This has been most enlightening." He stows his notebook and adds, "If you're ever in our version of Osirion, please do look me up. As an esteemed faculty member at the University, I have many connections in the city."
Dr. Lazarus takes in the sights of the marketplace. "Fascinating..."
The Doctor agrees with the group and says knowingly, "My dear colleagues, you are quite correct. Those symbols represent the Horsemen of Abaddon. And there is Alazhra the Dream Eater." He pauses for effect, as he does in his university lecture hall, and says, "And that symbol represents the draconic ruler of this realm, Argrinyxia."
After one more glance around, he confirms what Fangor saw, "Don't be alarmed, but we are being watched by a shadow dragon on yon pillar."
It is Young Umbral Dragon. While the other primal dragons hail from the Elemental Planes, the cruel and unceasingly malicious umbral dragons originate in the depths of the Shadow Plane. Their sleek black scales and serpentine grace allow them to strike from hiding, and they are known for playing with their prey before finally finishing it. These creatures of shadowy energy and unwholesome appetites prefer the necrotic flesh of undead creatures to any other meal. This strange hunger can be of accidental benefit to nearby humanoid societies, but ultimately they hunt and kill undead creatures for the taste, rather than out of any desire to protect others from the undead. The benefit is always short-lived, however. When umbral dragons exhaust their preferred prey, they turn on whatever living creatures happen to be nearby. Umbral dragons sometimes go to great lengths to obtain their favorite meals, even creating undead creatures that they then feast upon.
Immunity to negative, paralize and sleep effects
Among the hundreds of stalls, night hags from a multitude of competing hag covens ply the fruits of the soul trade. Amidst the grim yet circus-like surroundings, their wares are on display in every manner imaginable: some stalls are festooned with cages at ground level or hanging by chains like horrific wind chimes, filled with mewling mortal-faced larval souls. Other display shelves packed with magically imprisoned souls stuffed into ectoplasm-filled jars, held fast within dimly glimmering black onyx gems, or woven by ink and deed into the words of diabolic contracts purchased and now on display. Looking beyond these displays of atrocity, far more than just souls are for sale, but souls are the only currency accepted.
Situated within the depths of the unholy market, Gremala the Dream-Monger’s stall is no grander (or less horrific) than any other, the prosaicness standing at odds with her position as the founder of Shadow Absalom’s marketplace of souls. Gremala casually converses with her latest customer as they conclude a trade. The customer is a grotesque bipedal creature with a toothy jaw too big for its body, a mass of tentacles, and red limbs tipped with claws the size of daggers. Light and space distort around its gaunt form. A floating red ball of teeth and spines hovers in the air behind the customer. The customer reaches into the round creature’s mouth and pulls out a handful of gems flickering with soul energy, exchanging them with Gremala for a massive black onyx before departing. All manner of bizarre odds and ends decorate the shelves and blanket-covered tables, each item seeming all the stranger the longer one stares: handcrafted dolls with glowing gemstone eyes that twitch sporadically as if alive, open books whose words move on the page of their own accord, and empty cages whose absent occupants still cast shadows with their movements.
When you approach Gremala smiles nicely to you "New customers, would you like to try a cookie?"
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Of course! That's very kind of you Gremala. says Fangor with his soft and melodious voice as he takes one of the cookie.
But, please, let me introduce myself. I'm Fangor, follower of Razmir, le Living God! May be have heard of him? Please take this Pamphlet as he will help you toward the First Step to illumination and Weath!
He continues, quickly making the cookie disappearing under a pile a pamphlets that he puts on the stall.
Unfortunately that's not only what I'm here with my comrades, even if Praying Razmir is the main reason of joining the Society. As you certainly already realized, only the Pathfinder Society could have gathered so many different people in one place. We are here to discuss about Ashlynn and her plan legal or non legal against the Onyx Alliance. Could you help us on that?
He asks with his soft and melodious voice.
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Dr. Lazarus nods knowingly at the dragon above. "My dear colleagues, that is, of course, an Umbral Dragon." He lectures in his usual haughty manner, stopping only when enough people lose interest.
The Doctor looks in awe at the strange customers at the Soul Stalls.
When Gremala introduces herself, Lazarus says, "Greetings madam. I'm renowned forensics professor, Dr. Lazarus. Perhaps ... no never mind." Retrieving his flask, he continues, "Your cookies look delicious. Won't you join me in some brandy?" He pours drinks and offers her a mug.
Perhaps over-confident in his medical training, the Doctor warily tries a cookie, and washes it down with a sip of brandy from his snifter.
Studying Gremala, Lazarus says, "If I may, it's a pleasure to meet a civilized night hag. Most of our dealings have unfortunately been with Aslynn, who has proven to be quite the foe. We understand you have similar feelings toward our enemy." He pauses and asks, "What can you tell us about her involvement with the Onyx Repository."
Fangor praises Razmir while hiding the cookie under the stack of paper knowing very well to not try sweets from unknown hags. Gremala looks at the pamflets "As you can see I worship Nethys ... What’s so wrong with having a patron different from my sisters? Would you prefer I worship Alazhra? One of the Four? Something worse? It’s probably good for you and your organization that I don’t." She looks at the pamflet and hides it
"When it comes to Aslynn, I know quite a bit, but never enough it seems. She spins webs of intrigue, as one does, just as often as I pass a bottled soul from hand to hand. Oddly, she’s also stopped dealing directly in souls. Perhaps her focus is on other pursuits? Yes, she has something up her sleeve, and if I’m right, she’ll be playing that card very soon indeed."
Gremala accepts the brandy from Doktor, and when Doctor, Quinoline try the cookie they sense cinamone, sugar and a bit of vanila in the taste. When Lazarus asks his quesiton about Aslynn, the nice old hag responds
"Well fine, if you wish me to be so blunt about it and spoil my fun dancing around the periphery of it all. She’s about to get her hands on a truly staggering amount of treasure, and you and I both know precisely where she’ll be stealing it from. And by she, I don’t mean Aslynn herself in person, but one of her children, surely. Ah, but I’ve said too much, haven’t I?”"
As Doctor considers Gremala to be nice and friendly he catches a glimpse of her reflection in a small mirror on one of the stalls. He spots a towering night hag with a double set of curled horns, gleaming white eyes, and a snarling maw of jagged yellow fangs. Others can see Lazarus face loosing some of his colors.
Quinoline asks about the cookie "You are correct, cinnamon and couple of other spices. They are delicious eren't they? Baking is very important for every person in my profession ..."
"Let me share what I know, Onyx Alliance recent withdrawal from the soul market has had a terrible impact on the Soul Stalls. Sarnia Blakros is to blame, of course, for this, and many other changes in the way the Onyx Alliance operates. It isn’t the end of us, not by any means, but it has had an impact. Argrinyxia has taken a keen interest in the Stalls of late, and that may be good—or bad. At the same time, things have gotten so much more interesting here in Shadow Absalom. You’re here, and you’re part of that. Thank you, my dears!"
As Karando does not take a cookie, Gremala hisses "You are breaking my heart, dear. Do you think that I am trying to poison you? Or steal your soul? No, no, no as tempting as it would be you are already spoken for."
"You seem like a friendly bunch, so let me tell you something about her children. She’s left them littered about like wriggling larvae in the Abyss. Some of them are loyal little ones, some distinctly less so, and others probably have no idea who she is. In total, to the best of my knowledge, she has thirteen of them. More than one is out and about locally, so I’m told, while others are unaccounted for. She’s had countless other children in the past, but so few who survive to adulthood. These thirteen must be strong indeed, and I believe at least one of them has infiltrated the Onyx Alliance."
She also gives you greater pendant of the occult.
With your matter handled you head towards Wightir House.
Located near the southwestern wall of the Unspoken City—in Shadow Absalom’s own warped reflection of Absalom’s Wise Quarter, Wightir House was once connected closely to the Blakros Museum, existing conterminously across the planes and sharing the same layout. This connection was broken when Blakros Museum curator Nigel Aldain renovated and expanded his museum, using the same shadow obelisk that allowed you to travel to Shadow Absalom as a ritual focus. Wightir House’s imposing gothic structure now lies in utter ruin, reduced to smoldering rubble while its neighboring structures remain intact and untouched. Sporadic eruptions of purple-black lightning snarl amongst and between the larger pieces of broken support columns, and cold fire still flickers on fallen timbers jutting up from the ruin. The largest standing and recognizable portion of the structure that remains is a minor quarter of the entryway atrium, adjacent to which the scorched head of a taxidermied triceratops emerges from the desolation. The cause of the obliteration is openly advertized by a symbol burned into the standing remains of the atrium. You easily recognize it as the personal symbol of Shadow Absalom’s ruler, Argrinyxia.
Yet beyond the former borders of Wightir House, life seemingly goes on as usual, with bustling foot traffic of primarily fetchling citizens. You hear them commeniting with a pithy, "Argrinyxia destroyed it," and "The Dragon Queen of Shadow Absalom took her tithe."
Behind a pile of broken stones and hidden from casual view on the street are a number of Onyx Alliance operatives half-heartedly digging through the rubble to recover any buried items. Beside fetchling female who seems to be the group’s leader there are what seems like relatively recent recruits including two humans, a half-elf, a dark scaled kobold, and one other fetchling. You feel the tension in the air, the female speaks "Who are you and what are you doing here?"
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Greetings my Lady, Have you heard of Razmir the Living God? says Fangor with his soft and melodious voice while presenting a pamphlet.
I'm Fangor, follower of Razmir, but also, a Pathfinder send to make sure than any misunderstanding between our two organizations will be cleared up. Can we talk? he adds with his soft and melodious voice.
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When Gremala offers the group the Pendant of the Occult, Dr. Lazarus says, "Who would like to don this magical pendant?" If there are no takers, Dr. Lazarus will try it on.
At the Wightir House, the always-serious Dr. Lazarus chuckles as Fangor continues to show he's quite singular in purpose. Lazarus continues the introductions. "Greetings dear lady. I'm renowned forensics professor, Dr. Lazarus." She's not impressed. He doesn't notice.
He continues, "Are you with the Onyx Alliance? As my esteemed colleagues suggested, perhaps our interests are aligned. We're hoping to set things right with the Alliance. We're seeking entry into the Onyx Repository. Can you help us?"
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Hobbs rolls his eyes at the Razmiran zealot in their midst. He reaches impossibly far into his bag and pulls out a large jar of pickled eggs. As an apology to the Onyx Alliance members He offers an egg to each of them. "Pickled egg anyone? This is my best batch yet." He extracts three eggs and pops all three into his oversized goblin mouth.
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"I cannot believe some of you took cookies from a night hag nicknamed the 'Dream-Monger,'" says Liam, shaking his head, "I was going to ask her if that ever worked, and then it did."
At the site, he looks over the destruction. "Seems your Alliance is on the outs with some of your allies. What brought this on?" He sights, and starts shifting some rubble to help. He tries to use the larger pieces to build a brace, to keep things from collapsing further.
The woman hears your explanation and introduce herself with visible relief "I am Ralzin, If it comes to Razmir I heared of him, but currently gods can't help me dig through the rubble so I don't preoccupy myself with them."
She directs her people to dig in order to find any valuables
"About what went in here. I assume that you’ve seen her symbol all over the rubble like a maker’s mark? Suffice it to say Argrinyxia is anything but pleased with the Onyx Alliance. It’s all in regards to the legal case brought against our organization. Something about the structure not truly belonging to the Onyx Alliance? The full details are above my pay grade. My job is to find treasure, not fill out paperwork. The things that we find we will bring to another location, so no worries we have place to hide. It's just my luck, coming back after months of treasure hunting, only to have everything go up in flames because Marcien made a dragon mad."
She waits a moment "So how can you help me and my men if I would be willing to share the information about Onyx Repository, and I will pass on the egg, but thank you."
When, or if, you share with her that Pathfinder is looking for people she says
"I think I am fed with Onyx and Marcien, he… Marcien’s been rather ruthless lately. I haven’t worked directly with him for a while, but he’s kept people on a tight leash with everything that’s happened. The leash isn’t entirely metaphorical. Anyone questioning his decisions rapidly changes their mind. Enchantment magic and all that. At least digging out here I don’t have to worry about that, I suppose. I don’t like enchantments. Not at all."
She orders her team to stop digging and shares where Onyx Repository is, she tells you about the secret entrance and specifies in details where is the trap and how not to trigger it. Then she bids you farewell, and before leaving she gives you Gloom blade
You head to Onyx repository. This large, gothic structure has long served as the primary storehouse for the Onyx Alliance’s wealth, its nearly city block-sized footprint a visible demonstration of their power and influence. The Alliance consolidated their holdings here following the destruction of Wightir House and Sarnia’s disappearance. Obvious guards flank the impenetrable primary gate, while other, less conspicuous ones stand watch on patrols, doing their best to appear as prosaic street traffic and nothing more.
The Onyx Repository’s hidden entrance is located nearly a block away from the primary structure, at the base of a short stairwell leading below street level and out of view of the city above. It appears as an artistically fashioned false door, a folly of the larger, ornate building rising up over it on the street above. It takes the PCs only a few minutes to find it, as long as they’ve learned of its location from speaking with the Onyx Alliance team at the ruins of Wightir House. A closed but unlocked stone door connects this room to area .
After passing through the hidden passage, the PCs arrive in a small antechamber with a heavy stone door in the north wall. The small room looks like some sort of staging area—empty crates and old museum pieces lie in disorderly piles along the southern wall, abandoned in favor of more valuable objects. A heavy, enchanted stone door in the north wall blocks passage into area .
The striking figure of Marcien Blakros steps seemingly straight out of the shadows, his deep orange eyes softly glowing, his long white hair immaculate. His tailored purple great coat provides the Onyx Alliance leader a regal air of authority without so much as a word, nor a need to brandish the pistol at his belt or the jeweled staff cradled in his arms. He sighs dismissively. "And thus, the circling vultures finally deign to land. You’ll find precious little to feast upon. We’re well on our way to securing our holdings in our deepest vault. I’m impressed that you managed to arrive without a brusque frontal assault at the main gates. I’ll give you credit for that. But humor me, Pathfinders, what at all did you hope to accomplish today? Surely your Society has done enough damage to the Onyx Alliance!"
You can determine that this is not actually Marcien Blakros in the flesh, but some manner of shadow projection.
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"We aren't really here to do any damage. And we never really did any damage to you anyway, that I'm aware of. Most of what we've seen looks to be self-inflicted."
Liam shrugs apologetically. "And if we were, it would be retaliatory. Or to say the same thing more diplomatically, an attempt to force the cessation of hostilities.
"But it seems we have a mutual enemy, and each organization falsely believed the other was responsible--although I stand by saying that some of your troubles are self-inflicted; there's a reason your people helped us, you know. We're here to protect the Repository from being plundered by Aslynn."
Liam considers.
"...you have a deeper vault you weren't using? Tell me you at least checked it very thoroughly before you started moving things there."
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Fangor draws a pamphlet and starts Have you heard of Ra... before he realized that it's only a shadow projection of the real Marcian.
Getting back his pamphlet he confirms Liam's words Yes, we are not your enemies here, on the contrary. We have been sent to protect your treasure from Ashlynn's claws or at least her daughter.
The Decemviral want peace between our two organizations, we've realized that the attacks that seems to have been from the Onyx Alliance were in fact decoy sent by Ashlynn. We fear that she tries to play the same with you against us.
Let us help you here. Lets make sure Ashlynn's daughter gets back empty handed.
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Upon meeting Marcien, Dr. Lazarus takes out his flask of brandy. "I'm the renowned Dr. Lazarus. If you've spent much time at your remarkable Blakros museum, my reputation may precede me." The Doctor adds knowingly, "Never a dull moment there, am I right?"
Lazarus pours drinks and asks, "Won't you join me in libation?" After offering a mug to Marcien, he continues, "My fanatical colleague, Fangor, speaks the truth. We fear Aslynn is pulling the strings here. Surely you've considered this possibility." The Doctor savors a sip and begins taking notes.
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The striking figure of Marcien Blakros steps seemingly straight out of the shadows, his deep orange eyes softly glowing, his long white hair immaculate. His tailored purple great coat provides the Onyx Alliance leader a regal air of authority without so much as a word, nor a need to brandish the pistol at his belt or the jeweled staff cradled in his arms. He sighs dismissively.
"Wali jan waliwa, jumanakat paninikiw mä chiqap aru arsupxtaxa.. Ukax janiw Marcien satäkiti. Ukax mä kasta sombra proyección satawa."
"And thus, the circling vultures finally deign to land. You’ll find precious little to feast upon. We’re well on our way to securing our holdings in our deepest vault. I’m impressed that you managed to arrive without a brusque frontal assault at the main gates. I’ll give you credit for that. But humor me, Pathfinders, what at all did you hope to accomplish today? Surely your Society has done enough damage to the Onyx Alliance!"
"There's ben some bad blood between our organizations, true, however we've both been manipulated by our true enemy. The night hag Aslynn has orchestrated our conflict and unless I miss my guess she's the one responsible for your current difficulties. She plans to abscond with your goods. I am certain she somehow has access to your deepest vault. Either that or she plans some sort of ambush while you make the transfer."
"Yeah right, you have nothing to do with attacks on Onyx Alliance?"
Marcien responds to some of your claims, but as you provide more details and reassurances that Aslynn could be behind it. He pauses...
"I’ve been such a fool. Please, listen, the vault is just ahead. You’ll find no traps or barriers in your way. My remaining forces are battling intruders in the vault at this very moment—I thought they were more Pathfinders, and that you’d come to distract me! They must be Aslynn’s forces. There’s little time. I’ll have to trust you. Pass through this door, meet with me, and…" At this Marcien pauses, he turns partly as if listen to someone, and a look of shock crosses his face. "Mother?" he says, before he abruptly vanishes, dissolving into shadow.
Few breathes later you hear in your heads voice of Sarnia
"Pathfinders! This is Sarnia Blakros. Since you freed me from that horrid prison, I’ve been recovering my strength, while hiding in a corner of Aslynn’s mind. I can feel that wretched hag attacking Marcien’s mind. I’ve been trying to ward her off and free him from her influence, but she is watching too closely. I can also sense some of what she’s scheming. She’s sent her son Arisept to plunder the vault! Quickly, Pathfinders! I’ll open this door—but I must save my strength for my last trick. Only you can stop Arisept now!" The stone door in the north wall begins crumbling to black dust. A sudden cackle echoes aloud through the Repository. Sarnia cries out, and a harsh hag’s voice reverberates through the halls.
"You’re too late! The vault is nearly emptied. You’ve failed, Pathfinders, and no one will ever know your story. Marcien Blakros, if you wish to see your mother again, slay these meddling fools!"
Moments later, the stone door barring the way to next chamber is gone, leaving nothing but a thin layer of black dust in its wake.
This larger hallway is lined with statuary and raised plinths, the latter of which once held various display pieces, some of them apparently removed quite hastily. Larger pieces and those unable to be readily transported have been left behind, including a swirling mobile comprised of floating stones and d’ziriak light weaving, as well as a taxidermied albino hydra hanging on display from the ceiling.
Discolored outlines on the walls make it clear that pieces of art and large tapestries have been recently removed from this hall, some with their identifying wall plaques still in place showing their ill-gotten provenance from Absalom’s Blakros Museum. A massive, sealed vault door lies to the north. The metallic surface is inscribed with a constantly swirling series of magical runes.
Then you see Marcien shadow standing in front of the other doors "You heared her, I can't leave my mother. This is how it is has to be."
He casts a spell that hits you with a wave of despair.
Then he raises his pistol and shoots Karando
──────────
BOLD IS UP!:
──────────
Marcien
➤ Kerando
➤ Lazarus
➤ Quinoline
➤ Fangor
Hobbs
Liam
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Dr. Lazarus takes in the situation with his keen investigative eyes. When Marcien, the subject of his lead, casts his spell, the Doctor tries to shrug it off.
Immediately, he warns his devout colleague, "My dear Fangor. Marcien is a clever mage. Be alert!"
Not seeing an opening for an attack, Dr. Lazarus turns to Karando. "My dear colleague, if you'll stop waving that machete around, I could provide you some healing." The Doctor performs some in-battle healing, draws his hammer, and follows Quinoline into the room.
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"He could, Hobb, if he worked with us."
Unlike, presumably, many of his victims given the kind of "business" they'd seen Blakros was engaged in. Which was also sad, so that line of thought didn't help to fight the spell. Ugh.
Unable to focus through the tears to do much else, Liam leans back--and unleashes a bolt of lightning from the energy stored within his armor. Unfortunately, even the electricity is sad.
Kerando with heroic effort withstand the despair, but the bullet made him confused.
Kerando walks towards Hobbs and smacks him with machete.
Lazarus deals with the spell without much troubles, then he tries to understand something about the enemy
Kerando with heroic effort withstand the despair, but the bullet made him confused.
Kerando walks towards Hobbs and smacks him with machete.
Lazarus deals with the spell without much troubles, then he tries to understand something about the enemy
You know that Marcien standing before you is a fetchling, by carried equipment and casted spell you can say that he is an occult spellcaster, by the way how he stands you suspect that he prefers his pistol over the staff, and it seems that his bullets are cursed and may cause confusion.
Then Lazarus heals Kerando.
Quinoline feels sad for Marcien but it does not stop her from throwing electric lightning in his face.
Fangor also fails the save vs spell and disappears.
Soon from the shadows come Marcien defender and strikes at Lazarus, the creature was hiding in shadows and sneaked towards the good doctor
The rapier pierces Lazarus
But this onyx agent was less accurate and missed the alchemist
──────────
BOLD IS UP!:
──────────
Marcien
Kerando
Lazarus
Quinoline
Fangor
Red
Yellow
➤ Hobbs
➤ Liam
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Lazarus deals with the spell without much troubles, then he tries to understand something about the enemy
Thanks to his superior intellect, Dr. Lazarus lectures to the group. "Our friend Marcien here is a fetchling occult spellcaster." He pauses and adds, "As we've seen, his bullets tend to cause confusion. Be alert."
"Cut!" The bad guys stop in between attacks and relax a bit, soon a big hobgoblin nurse runs into the set and comes to Lazarus "Sorry dear, it seems that one of the stunt doubles did not get revised story, and made one whole to many. I will patch you in no time" She applies some bandages which good doc only hopes are sterile.
Hobbs sobbing moves forwards, he grabs a bomb and tosses it at Marcien, the bomb hits him in the head, flames spilling on the figure, and sets him on fire.
Liam moves in and strikes with a flick-mace, leaving a massive mark on the agent.
The guard grunts something about so common cultural appropriation looking at the flick-mace wielded by human.
Marcien curses from all of the bombs and tries to cast a spell, soon two additional Marciens make of even darker shadow. One attacks Hobbs
The other at Liam
The shadow misses at Hobbs, but the one next to Liam hits pretty hard, and liam feels that the shadow stick can hurt equally as the real one.
Then Marcien reloads his pistol, by first throwing his stick to the floor.
──────────
BOLD IS UP!:
──────────
Marcien
➤ Kerando
➤ Lazarus
➤ Quinoline
➤ Fangor
Red
Yellow
Hobbs
Liam
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Dr. Lazarus thought he'd feel critically worse after the surprise attack by the guard, but it turns out it's just a flesh wound. He reminds his colleagues, "Karando my boy, and Lady Quinoline, if you attack Marcien, aim for his gun side ..."
While waiting for his colleagues to attack, the Doctor surveys the battlefield to find an opening against Marcien.
Unsure of a clear shot, he instead turns his attention to an adjacent guard. "Yes yes...better to deal with one of you first." He considers and focuses his attack on Quinoline's enemy. He swings his hammer three times in succession .
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vs DC 30
Quinoline, with all of her mental faculties available, Quick Alchemys two lesser bottled lightnings, infusing them with dazzling powder.
◆ Quick Alchemy
◇ Debilitating Bomb
She then tosses them.
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plus 7 splash electricity plus flat-footed plus DC 29 Fortitude vs dazzled
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plus 7 splash electricity plus flat-footed plus DC 29 Fortitude vs dazzled