Sorry everyone, I'm in the process of moving across the country and haven't had access to a computer reliably. I will have something up this evening, I promise.
Order of Initiative
Bran leaps into the fog, lunging at some dark shape. Sulfuric smoke stings his eyes but through the tears he is able to land a hi. Through the gray he is able to make out some massive, boney thing. Through the acrid cloud, a small shape arcs toward Jurundr. It strikes him in the shoulder. Looking to where it fell, his eyes lock on to a small, leather object. Immediately his senses register the strange object. A grotesque, deformed face beneath a menacing tuft of ragged hair. It was a head, shrunken in some vile rite. The voices start as whispers, faint and distant, but suddenly it is all that Jurundr can hear. The indistinct voices clamor through his brain and he is frozen with fear. Brorn takes the time to peer through the smoke. For a moment he can see the figures through the murky air. In the center of the room, near the smoldering fire, stands a Beastman covered from head to tow in bone, feathers and abhorrent fetishes. There is something around his neck. Some golden amulet. Then there are the giants, towering colossi of undeath. Dried flesh wrapped tightly around aged bone, each carrying a small tree trunk more so than a club. Brorn lashes out; his lips curl and an unholy bellow escapes from the dark cavity in his chest. A beam of bright flame juts from his mouth, the lower jaw seemingly unhinged. It rushes through the target, one of the skeletal beings, singing flesh and bone. Jurundr is unable to move, his eyes fixated on the strange fetish. The words flow through his ears in repetition on some bloody curse. The giant skeleton that looms over Bran lifts its heavy club and smashes it across Bran's armored body. The impact is like a boulder. The bronze cuirass the Atlantean wore is dented and warped. Something inside his body aches and blood runs down his lip. The other abomination staggers toward Jurundr but is promptly met with an arrow that lodges itself in its chest. Llara looses another bolt, but the smoke waters her eyes and the arrow misses its mark. Bran- 15 damage
End Round 1
Yeah, if you have something below a 10 and aren't happy with it, feel free to change it around a little. My old DM never liked to have anyone super dumb or super weak. It kind of stuck with me. You guys are supposed to be heroes! |
