Indeed! Thank you, Michael! It was nice of you to help out.
I did send you my email address.
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"Go back to the Pit!" says Ezren, launching more magic missiles from the eldritch runes of light he has traced in the air. "And trouble the world of the living no more!"
Ezren uses his Pearl of Power to restore magic missile to his memory.
Ezren adjusts his stance to keep the undead leader in view, then summons another set of magic missiles, launching them at the ghast.
"At them, lads! Keep it up!"
Ezren summons bolts of eldritch force to attack the ghast.
"I have nothing covered. Doors are not my specialty," says Ezren. "Herr Magt, if you would be so kind?"
Aaaaaand then we go do that.
"This is a fool's errand," says Ezren. "We should just go through the door."
Ezren follows cautiously.
Can Ezren see any appropriate ways to accomplish that?
I'll be away until late Friday or Saturday. On travel with limited Internet.
Ezren imbues his cane with a little magical force and sends it hurling at the hound!
Well, at least you got some reclining in. :-)
Bluedove hasn't posted in her other games, either. I hope she's alright.
Ezren steps back and uses his arcane bond to cast his third and final burning hands spell.
Ezren uses his pearl,of power to recall burning hands. "I've got one more cone of fire," he says. "Lets do it."
Ezren has a clean shot, sending his cone across the northernmost tier of the swarm, so he takes the shot.
Ezren prepares to cast [/b]burning hands[/b] when the swarm coalesces.
Ezren moves into the sunken room and uses his wand to blast the leech
...making himself very sick in the process. Luckily we avoided the worst of that." Ezren explains the trap to his companions and watches over Magt until it's safe to revive him.
"Sorry, lad," says Ezren to Magt's still form. He kneels and tries to see what's wrong with the tiefling.
"Hold him down, lads," says Ezren. "Somebody try to hold him down!"
If Magt still attacking when it's Ezren's turn: If Magt is still dangerous on Ezren's turn, the wizard will use Hand of the Apprentice to attack him, using magic to hurl his cane.
"Whoa! Wait a moment!" Ezren shouts. Ezren tosses a tanglefoot bag at Magt.
"Thank you, young man,"[b] Ezren says. [b]"That does take the edge off."
"Damnable gods!" curses Ezren. He drinks both his potions of cure light wounds.
Ezren climbs down the rope.
"We're Pathfinders, lads. We move towards the danger. That's where the fun and rewards are." says Ezren.
If it survived Jorah's attack, Ezren hits it with a wand of magic missiles.
"Hold!" shouts Ezren. "Hold, I say!" He turns to face the last survivor. "Yield, sir. For your life, will you yield?"
Hey, gang. My computer has died. I still have my iPad and occasional access to a laptop (like now), but it's going to be slow going until I manage to fix or replace the computer. I'll do my best to keep up, but please pay through if necessary.
Good for you for good priorities.
Ezren can just see the spot he wants to be. He hustles back across the path and crashes into the woods, then unleashes a gout of flame.
Ezren hustles into the cover of some nearby bushes, drawing his wand of magic missiles as he goes. He then covers his allies, waiting for trouble but unwilling to start any. Readied attack if he sees violence:
Ezren examines the wand handed to him by The Restful Spirit, grunts noncommittaly, then speaks the command word, surrounding the monk with an invisible field of force, then hands back the wand.
"The game's afoot," says Ezren, flexing his fingers and cracking his neck. Drawing a strip of leather from his pouch he whispers a few arcane syllables and moves his hands in precise forms, momentarily leaving glowing runes in the air that fade as his hands move on.
"Let's go."
"When do we depart?" asks Ezren, wincing in sympathy at the regurgitative sounds from on deck.
"Well this sounds interesting!" says Ezren. "Strange that I've never heard of it." |