Horrible Undead Thing's page

The horrible undead thing and its equally horrid rider appears out of the smoke in front of the blind Olandil! The zombie slugs him hard while the creature on its head and back extends a thick tentacle to rake the man across his face.

Zombie slam (charge!): 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 4 + 2 = 26 damage: 1d4 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
THREAT!
Zombie confirm?: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 4 + 2 = 12 additional damage: 1d4 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9 Hit no crit.

Incutilis tentacle (charge!): 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 + 2 = 24 damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
THREAT!
Incutilis confirm?: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 + 2 = 6 additional damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4 Hit no crit.

"BRRAAAH!" gurgles the thing as it sloshes forward.

Something stirs in the depths of the whale's gut. There is a terrible ripping and snapping sound and from the watery trash a midships err a midwhale there emerges what looks like the corpse of a half-digested sailor his clothing hangs in rags, atop his nearly skinless head like a sort of gruesome hat there sits perched a large slick nautilus its tentacles waving and tangling through the departed man's skull and hair.

"Urr-AGHH!" the corpse moans and lurches to its feet.

"Bring me the Stag Lord! Or else, give yourselves to the river. The Stag Lord!"

The mist and presumably its occupant drizzle through bords and into the river below disappearing into the water.

Posh is utterly terrorfied by this thing's presence as he looks upon it, but remains silent and attempts to hide somewhere nearby. Something about this thing scares him.

Is it him? I thought I left his body much further south from here. Then again, if she can return and Numalar returned then perhaps others did too?

Note: because of the fog, Scarlet (and anyone else who wants to dip at least 5 feet into the mist) can see the person/silhouette she is talking to (though it still has some cover even from her at this point). Everyone can hear it's voice though.

"The Stag Lord! Bring me the Stag Lord! Or else, give yourselves to the river."

"You will find him! You will bring him! Or you will join me in the river!" The thing roars.

"None of you are the one." Comes a gurgling wheeze. It's a wet sound like a rotting bellows with a hole in its side, half full of water.

The face that Scarlet makes out in the clammy mist is horrible. It was a man's once, but most of the flesh has been striped from the skull by fish, and running waters leaving it a melted-looking ruin. The rest of its body has not fared any better, soggy rags, and glistening, black muscle clinging to bone. Faint ghost-lights where its eyes once were. It's dragging a long hooked pole covered in river mud behind it.

It might be noon, but Scarlet feels a shiver coming on.