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Lady Andaisin

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5 posts. Alias of Seldlon the Swift.


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discussion

The zombie pursues the witch doctor.
slam v AC16: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
damage: 1d4 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

Cultist 6 swings at the massive orc.
swing v AC 18: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6
damage: 1d3 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Vondrella takes a 5 foot step towards the large orc. She reaches out to him "There now."
Touch v TAC 11: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
DC 15 Will negates

Bulgard and Khador are up.
discussion

fort v DC 16: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Vondrella is nauseated and moves away from the action. Cultists 4 and 6 move to protect her. The human zombie slams Khador.
slam v AC15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
damage: 1d4 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
discussion

fort v DC 17: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

She points at the archer who harmed her so. "Stop that."
She casts hold person. Will DC 15 negates. She wields a scythe.

3d6 + 2d6 ⇒ (6, 5, 5) + (1, 5) = 22
discussion

Seeing Rhen's cold iron short sword glance her armor, the attractive priestess makes eye contact with the dwarf that would take her life.
Her skin is white as snow, her hair as black as darkness. Rhen actually wants to accept the touch of her slender fingertips as she reaches out to his face.
"May you know Urgathoa for eternity, dear dwarf." She touches Rhen's face.
Touch v TAC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
Will DC 17 negates, Rhen. You remain sickened, -2.
She takes a 5-foot step
discussion

Vondrella stands and taps her human skull goblet with a small wand. The revelers immediately pause and hush. She raises the goblet.

" To those who will suffer greatly before dying from our Pallid Plague.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light"

Vondrella sips from the mug and sits. The cultists yell loudly and resume their festivities.