Hank the Keeper's page

Hank rummages around in his pocket for that thing... where is it... rocks... pockets full of rocks... good. Rocks are part of the thing. Ok. Keep lookin' for it, Hankie. Ah. Here 'tis.

He holds a rolled up piece of parchment. He takes a deep breath.

Words've never been yer strong suit, Hank. But you gotta do it. For your friends. For Cammy. For throwin' a big ol' rock at that jerk up the stairs.

He unrolls the scroll and casts Magic Stone on the rocks in his clenched fist.

Cammy doesn't know or care that skeletal mages can shrug off his deadliest weapon. He sets the best example he can for Hank.

Spit: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

Sehetep may not be capable of even taking a Fort save. But he's still covered in camel spit.

MWOOONK!!! Yeah!

mwk scimitar: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 191d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 172d4 - 4 ⇒ (1, 1) - 4 = -2

Oh man, a crit for the ages...

Hank leans over to Cammy and casts Magic Fang on his best pal. "Go get 'em, tiger! Uh, I mean, Cammy!"

Hank, though, Hank is a simple hobbit from a simple place.

Ma said I ought never bow to no bully.

Hank sturdily plants his feet while he whispers to his friends, "Guys, let's scram to a spot where Karth can block the hall. He can smush these jerks and I'll keep him going with the happy stick. If we need to pop smoke to get outta here, I got the fog spell."

...Karth, maybe it's best if you go in front this time. There's a noise...

Hank splutters awake. "Wha? Wha? Oh dang, those folks needed more healin' than I had."

But he tops off Karthurg and the rest of the crew.

CLW: 1d8 ⇒ 51d8 ⇒ 21d8 ⇒ 81d8 ⇒ 21d8 ⇒ 61d8 ⇒ 71d8 ⇒ 71d8 ⇒ 5

...it takes eight charges, and the wand steams afterwards.

"Uh, guys, if we use this thing that much one more time, it's kicked."

"The Bush" makes me think Australia... where are you gonna be? Just curious, and of course, answer when you get back if you're in the middle of somewhere beyond cell service.

"..."

"Uh, sure thing Karth! Just gotta wait 'till I get a chance to step back, then this one is all yours..."

Hank's still not quite sure what to do. He doesn't have Knowledge: Religion.

"Uh, sure, looks like you could use some fresh flesh... I mean, a lil' tap does wonders, Karth'll tell ya."

He draws the Wand of Cure Light and tries to heal the poor wounded soul in front of him...

Touch Attack,: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (20) - 1 = 191d20 - 1 ⇒ (8) - 1 = 71d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

Hank rushes forward to dig out the buried people. He's simultaneously reaching into his snack sack. "Hells, do you need a hand? Also I have cookies, jerky, mixed nuts, half a sandwich, some candy..."

"Uh... anyone see what's making that racket?"

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

Whoops, shoulda noticed that!

Hank casts Guidance, and Cammy goes for the CHOOOMP.

Camel Bite: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 131d4 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11

Hank ducks behind Cammy, drawing his scimitar and his trusty wand. But for now, he casts Guidance on Cam.

"Uh, bite it! I think!"

"Hey there, yer wetness, we're just passin' by..." Hank tries to hail the creature--but his hand is on his faithful scimitar...

Hank asks for some Prestidigitation, but as soon as he's spiffed up, he's gonna hop up on Cammy and follow Phedran. Cammy is deeply unhappy to be wading through mud and worse, but he's movin'.

Um, let's all cross and then Big C can take his shot at it... I'll call him from the other side.

AcroHank: 1d20 ⇒ 4

As Hank falls into the muck, he remembers that Ma Trubbs always said Hank was nimble as a cat... a drunk cat with one eye and three legs.

Hank trusts anyone who takes care of their pets, and walks ahead confidently.

"Mister Varn, I am Hank, and pleased to meet you. You have very fine rats, there, some of the finest I've ever seen. I do love creatures. I don't come down here much so I am not sure which way to go, nor if there's ought I need to know about."

Hank peers into the darkness, nervously.

Hank will say, "Just passing through, stranger. On the trail of some evil guys, you seen anyway? Pass you some coin for a little info?"

Hank will approach the ratty rags, hoping to find rodent allies for the cause.

Handle Animal+Guidance: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 31

"C'mon then, Big C! Down the hole ye go..."

"...I reck we gotta get Cammy down somehow, or leave 'im up here."

And I'll leave it to MacShack to decide if it's feasible to drag a Large camel down into a sewer. Won't be at all upset if we have to leave him upstairs. Also, yay, the forums are back!

Hank shakes the vision of the dying Aracus guildsman out of his head... and looks dubiously at the stinky hole in the ground.

"Oy, Cammy, get in thar, you!"

Off camping for the weekend, Hank trusts your judgment if you want to forge ahead!

Hank will ask Belliken, "Hey, what was magic in the box? Can ya sniff it out?"

Hank is a little shaky, but he also feels kinda tough... "See? I'm a tough killer like you guys. Druids..." he tries to flash his eyes intensely, even though they are a little shiny... "we're always neutral."

Hank watches Phedran leave with an impressed look on his face. After seeing Belliken go after those other bandits, he's now seen the good doctor let loose on one, too. Not with a crossbow. But still.

"Um, so. The sewers. I guess we can find them on our own. Uh. What else should we know about? Also, um. Goodbye? Uh. Can I... may I... I'm gonna..."

He turns green. Good color, for a druid.

"...I'm thinkin' bout sendin' you to your gods. That ok with you?"

He draws his scimitar and approaches the guildsman.

"An' save yer spit, I get spit on all the time and it don't phase me none."

If the box pings magic, Hank will try to pick it up and put it in Karthurg's bag, unless it is super heavy. Then he'll nod apologetically, and say, "Onward, then!"

Hank mutters, "You know how to do this better than I do, Bells. Karthurg, have you still got that box? I slipped it into your satchel. Wanna bust it open?"

[b] "Let's check on that one guy and then we can pop the box and see what's what, I think?" [b]

Hank flicks the wand in the air a few times to cool it off.

"This lil' guy must be more'n half kicked by now. Gonna have to scrape up the dough to buy a new one sometime soon, I reck."

Hank, panting as he catches his breath, says "First things first."

Cure Light Wand Bellie: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Cure Light Wand Bellie: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Cure Light Wand Karth: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Cure Light Wand Karth: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Cure Light Wand Phed: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Cure Light Wand Phed: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Cure Light Wand Hank: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

Cure Light Wand Hank: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Everyone's full except Karthurg, who is now at 21/22

"Phew."

Hank sees Belliken waver, and yells at Karthurg: "Cammy's outside if you need help, buddy. I'll be back after I prop up Bellie."

Hank 5fts over to Belliken and gives him a shot of wand.

Cure Light: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

"They are just using you, Spike! I will free you from your curse if you join us! I have uh a potion for that I think!"

Hank 5-fts around Spike, pulls his Wand of Karthurg Maintenance, and uses it to steady his ol' pal:

Cure Light: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Hank continues Fighting Defensively to provide Karthurg flanking and to keep the monster away from his other friends.

Scimitar: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (16) - 3 = 13

AC +2 till next turn

AOO: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

Hank flails with his diminutive scimitar, but doesn't succeed in harming anything.

Hank yelps, "HOLY TREETRUNKS WHAT'S THAT?!"

He tries to move behind Karthurg, casting Guidance on his friend if he can...

Hank is a little shocked.

I stabbed someone... whoa. Time to finish this.

mwk scimitar defensively flanking: 1d20 + 1 - 4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 1 - 4 + 2 = 2

But maybe not this time.

Hank realizes that he's better off setting up a good smash for Karthug than actually trying to do damage himself.

Best distract 'em!

He moves so that he and Karth will be flanking the enemy who is now between them, and fights defensively, hoping more for Karthug's enhanced chances than for his own glory

Fighting Defensively Flanking Mwk Scimitar, Threat, Possible Damage x2: 1d20 + 1 - 4 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 1 - 4 + 2 = 181d20 - 1 ⇒ (17) - 1 = 161d4 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -11d4 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1

15 AC until next turn, and wow, it's been a looong time since Hank damaged anyone in melee... maybe this is his chance to put "first blood" on that scimitar he's been lugging around! Minimum 1 damage, after all.

Hank looks over his shoulder for Cammy, remembers that he's on his own and can therefore act nimbly--he dodges forward, draws his scimitar, and casts "Guidance" on Karthurg.

If the box pings magic, Hank will try to pick it up and put it in Karthurg's bag, unless it is super heavy. Then he'll nod apologetically, and say, "Onward, then!"

"Ok, Karth, it's locked, we'll come back later."

Hank mutters, "But we're here to find a statue, might be in the box... worth a peek."

Hank tries to open the coffer before we leave! Just a peek first...

Hank says, "Just let me know if you're lookin' somewhere specific, Phed, and I'll let nature Guide you"

Hank pops Guidance on Phedran, and is ready to add more as necessary.

And Hank hangs around the back of the group, courageously!

Hank pulls some of his rope off of Cammy and gently ties the sleeping guy's hands and feet together.

Heading up the stairs, he looks at the door and says "Best not get trapped with some behind and some above, right? Try the door, Karth, if you think it's a good idea."

Hank pulls out the Wand of Karthurg-Maintenance and casts Cure Light Wounds on his friend:

CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

"All better, pal!"

He tells Cammy, "Cover us, Cammy! We're going in!"

"Uh, hello. I uh, have a thing or two to ask you. We do, I reck. Um." Hank looks beseechingly at Belliken and Phedran, hoping someone else will take over the talking.