Arbalasti chucks another improvised explosive chemical device at Numalar but the fireworks distract him.
Fire bomb v Numalar (range, range touch): 1d20 + 3 - 4 ⇒ (2) + 3 - 4 = 1 BOOM!: 2d6 + 3 ⇒ (2, 5) + 3 = 10 Miss: 1d8 ⇒ 6
It sails long and explodes noisily to the southeast on the cathedral roof kicking up more flagstones.
Arbalasti chucks an improvised explosive chemical device at the corner of the battlements that Numalar is hiding behind.
Fire bomb v Numalar (range, range touch): 1d20 + 3 - 4 ⇒ (12) + 3 - 4 = 11 BOOM!: 2d6 + 3 ⇒ (2, 4) + 3 = 9 Miss: 1d8 ⇒ 6
It sails long and explodes noisily to the southeast on the cathedral roof kicking up flagstone.
Arbalasti drops another one of his vials over the parapet.
fire bomb v Zokon (ranged touch, range, throw anything): 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (19) + 3 - 2 = 20 fire damage: 2d6 + 3 ⇒ (3, 2) + 3 = 8 Hit
KABOOM!! Now it is thunder, fire and castle flagstones raining down on Zokon.
"HOWWWWWWW!!" the wizard howls at the sky.
Zokon Santyev wrote:
Arbalasti drops one of his vials over the parapet.
fire bomb v Zokon (ranged touch, range, throw anything): 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (14) + 3 - 2 = 15 fire damage: 2d6 + 3 ⇒ (1, 4) + 3 = 8
BOOM!! The merlon beside Zokon topples from its place and into the courtyard like a rotted tooth.
"HOWWWWWWW!!" howls the wizard with glee.
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18
Singe notes Numalar casting into the darkness. Seeing the potential threat (even if he can't see to far into the dark for great distance) he targets the sorcerer with a spell of his own. A sticky web suddenly lashes itself between the battlements, around the merlons, over the cathedral roof, against the the tower, and over to the the northern wall.
Numalar, Illthir, Zokon - reflex save DC 15, or be grappled. Webs are difficult terrain and can provide some cover. If Numalar becomes grappled he has to make a concentration check to cast glitterdust, likewise Illthir will need to maintain concentration on her illusion.
Arbalasti joined now by a grim-looking crossbow-bearing dwarf with a dwarf-sized shield strapped to his back, opens his coat revealing jars and jars of what one might expect to be high-yield, chemical explosives strung along cris-crossing bandoleers. From behind a merlon, he sniffs the wind for the scent of war. Seems Readied.