Corvin stares into the eyeless face of the beast, unmoving.
"Go to hell."
Lightning-quick, the fighter smashes his left fist into the grell's flesh directly behind the beak. Ducking a tentacle, he springs forward, driving his right fist up into the creaure's tentacled underside. The fighter dodges another tentacle and comes up behind the tentacled horror in a boxing stance, a maniacal look on his face.
Dohrlok swipes at the spell-casting rat-man but misses by a wide margin.
Despite the awkward angle of your attack, your fist slams into the creature, making it shriek in pain and retreat a few feet and regard you with a menacing air and clacking beak.
Dohrlok, the yellow-faced kobold dances away from your swing, cackling.
Tsiilmas lies on the ground, drooling slightly.
Anarath drops his longsword, the unexpected action causing the scythe wielding kobold to become momentarily distracted, allowing the elf to take a careful step backwards, drawing his bow – and firing.
Damn. I don't know what mental mis-firing caused that and I apologize.
*embaressed and irritated muttering*
The arrow slams into the kobold's throat, toppling him with a gurgle.
Tsillmas, you still have two more rounds of laying there and drooling.
The kobold who Dohrlok attacked sends another blast of energy at the dwarf, although Dohrlok avoids the crackling energy.
The other yellow-faced kobold sends a similiar ball of energy at Corvin. striking the fighter in the chest. The energy worms its way through his armor, burning the skin beneath.
Another of the unarmed kobolds runs forward to the hovering horror, standing ready to meet his grisly fate.
[ooc]Dohrlok is up.
Damn. I don't know what mental mis-firing caused that and I apologize.
*embaressed and irritated muttering*
The grell eagerly wraps it's rubbery tentacles around the kobold who offers itself up and devours that one as well with a sickening crunching sound. Again, it seems revitalized by the consumption of one of it's minions and it hovers forward again, more cautiously this time.
Using the momentum of his previous leap, Corvin spins around, launching himself again at the grell. He impacts the rear of the creature, driving his fists into its slimy hide, and laughing at the resulting spray of pinkish ichor.
Dohlok attacks the kobold he missed last time. (I can't roll - I am abroad withot my dice.)
Dohrlok strikes the kobold hard in the snout, sending the dazed creature almost to it's knees with the force of the blow.
Foul-smelling grey/green ichor oozes from many rends in the creature's leathery hide as it shrieks in pain from the force of Corvin's many strong blows.
Foul-smelling grey/green ichor oozes from many rends in the creature's leathery hide as it shrieks in pain from the force of Corvin's many strong blows.
Woo-hoo!
Don't celebrate until its dead.
After ensuring that he is not within melee range of any enemy kobolds, Anarath carefully lines up his bow and fires at the hovering monstrosity.
Your arrow lodges firmly in the Grell's leathery hide, piercing deep into it's fleshy interior.
The last
One yellow faced kobold sends a sphere of crackling black energy flying unerringly towards Anarath. The energy slams into Anarath, burning through his clothing and scalding the exposed skin. As the burns spread, Anarath feels nausea threatening to overwhelm him.
The other kobold mage sends an identical ball of dark energy at the nearby dwarven monk, engulfing him in black flames that a burn the skin and turn the stomach.
One of your kobold allies (the mage) sends a ethereal claw flying towards one of the unarmed kobold's who had been approaching the Grell. The claw strikes, slashing open the unarmed kobold's throat.
Save roll is 5 + 5 + 2 (for bonus v spells) is 12.
Assuming I am not sickened, I will punch the kobold I hit before to finish it off. Attack roll is 12 + 3 is 15. Damage is 6 + 2 is 8.
Dohrlok, your strong dwarven system holds your lunch down and you move switly to the kobold who wronged you. Your blow is strong, sending him sprawling to the wet ground, dead.
The Grell rises a few feet before diving suddenly at Corvin. Two of it's spiny tentacles hit him, imbedding their spikes deep within what little exposed flesh it can find.
Even as numbness begins to spread over Corvin's body, on of the tentacles wraps around his leg and begins to lift him into the air.
“Damn magic,” snarls the elf as he struggles to keep down the bile rising in his throat. “Damn bow,” he adds, looking in digust at the martial weapon he’s been using. “Time for some damn magic.”
The Grell rises a few feet before diving suddenly at Corvin. Two of it's spiny tentacles hit him, imbedding their spikes deep within what little exposed flesh it can find.
Even as numbness begins to spread over Corvin's body, on of the tentacles wraps around his leg and begins to lift him into the air.
The fighter quickly shakes off the creeping numbness, which is quickly replaced with a renewed rage. Corvin begins to climb hand-over-hand up the tentacle that holds him, a haze of blood in his eyes.
Corvin manages to slow climb up the rubbery tentacle.
Anarath, you are sickend for 1 minute and it is your turn.
Corvin leaps the last few inches, landing square on the grell's fleshy back. Kneeling, the fighter pummels the creature in a double-fisted slam, his head thrown back as he laughs maniacally.
"THAT'S WHAT YOU GET, YOU BASTARD! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR F@+&ING WITH CORVIN THADDEUS KILLGANNON! THE MAD BRAWLER HIMSELF! DIE, M~#~*! F+#@+!!"
The creature tries to shake you off, but it's efforts are no match for you. Your first blow misses, but the other two find their mark and apparently also a vital spot. The Grell gives one more shriek and rapidly plummets towards the blood-spattered cobblestones below. You land atop the monster's battered body and it's fleshy corpse breaks your fall somewhat, although you still hit the ground with bone-breaking force. The force of impact knocks the wind from your lungs and the world starts to become hazy as your vision descends into darkness.
Seeing the floating abomination smash to the cobblestones below, and Corvin’s sickening fall in it’s wake is too much for Anarath, and he heaves up the meagre contents of his stomach onto the ground.
“He needs healing,” the elf wheezes to their ‘allied’ kobold priest in Draconic, gesturing weakly to Corvin – “We’ll need him still if we are to get back to your fellows.” He indicates the remaining kobold enemies and the tower in one gesture.
The kobold priest dashes forward and chants a phrase in draconic over your fallen comrade. The healing energy spreads over Corvin's wounds, although it doesn't seem to heal as much as the otehr spells did.
Who is up next?
Anarath dashes over to Corvin, kneels down, and begins rummaging in the man’s pack, looking for a healing potion or similar.
Anarath dashes over to Corvin, kneels down, and begins rummaging in the man’s pack, looking for a healing potion or similar.
Tsiilmas shakes his head and slowly scrapes himself off the ground. He holds his shoulder and groans.
"what happened?"
Dohrlok moves to attack one of the enemy kobold casters, but his swing is wide.
Alright, Corvin is still unconcious so it is Anarath's turn.
None to gently, Anarath forces the contents of the uncorked potion bottle between Corvin’s slack lips.
Tsillmas is up.
None to gently, Anarath forces the contents of the uncorked potion bottle between Corvin’s slack lips.
Corvin sits up and coughs, spraying Anarath's face with flecks of congealed blood.
"Wasn't there a fight goin' on? What are you f@%*in' doing?"
“You’re welcome,” replies Anarath dryly, not bothering to wipe the flecks of blood from his face. “And yes, there’s still a fight going on, if you’re finished your nap and care to join us…”
Actually the nearest one (also the last one) is 15ft away. If that doesn't change your actions...
Your blade slices deep into the kobold's scaly chest, bringing forth a gout of scarlet blood. The creature gurgles and slides off your blade to the cobbled ground. The remaining yellow kobolds flee to the tower with screams of fear and confusion, passing through the wall of bones as if it is nothing more than smoke. They reach the wall and push through, appearing to encounter some resistance before slipping through like they went through an oily membrane.
The sounds of battle still come from within the manor, apparently the two armies fight on, unaware of the foul monster's demise. In the courtyard an uneasy silence has fallen, a silence like a breath held in anticipation.
The kobold has little of value. He carried only a dagger and a strange pendant that appears to be a tangled knot of died skin (from what you dare not ask) died a bright yellow and inscribed with a set of strange runes.
The other four elite kobolds yield somewhat greater dividends.
One carried a scythe of exceptional quality. Along it's wooden handle straps of fabric the color of dried blood and covered in draconic characters adorn the weapon's shaft.
To those who read Draconic
Eandros Savarin, Knight of Pelligrad (human)
Priest Sszandros, Traitor to the King (kobold)
Merla Thorgage, Scourge of the Faithful (halfling)
Aramil Siannodel, Burner of the Breathren (elf)
Dhurken Ironshield, Hammer of Brothers (dwarf)
The same kobold also bears a dagger and another of the strange tokens.
The other two also have daggers, the macabre tokens and one has a small sack containing 8 gold coins.
The unarmed sacrifices have nothing of value.