Grak hefts his axe as the conversation ends and readies himself. He looks towards the necromancer with a shiver and turns his attention to the slimy humanoids. "What the hell are you, frog zombies or somethin? Huh huh huh." He chuckles as they ignore his humor while moving closer.
He calls back once more to Nezeus, "Ok, humie, blast away at him!" before charging the zombies with a roar. In the middle of his rush, he shifts hard to one side, trying to use the body of the right zombie to block out the left one. "I'm gonna cut yer heads off." He states, while using his weapon to attempt the decapitation of the right creature.
Grak chops into the nearest zombie, doing considerable damage, but not dropping it. The unnatural creature groans, swinging its arm like a club, but missing clumsily. The other zombie shuffles around to get at Grak as well.
As the uninjured zombie approaches him, Grak rotates around the damaged one in an attempt the one between him and the other. "You frog zombies don't dance as good as da ones in de udder room. Ya can't lay a finger on me!"
The zombies, however, continue to ignore the half-orc's taunting as he winds up to try again. Grak swings low this time, trying to cut the injured zombie across the middle and deposit his intestines upon the ground.
Depape makes a quick clicking noise, and his monkey goes scampering off into the shadows. He then fires a bolt at Filge while letting out a "Yar!" His shot is a good one, and the bolt sinks into Filge’s gut. He plucks it out and drops it on the floor with a clatter, wincing with pain. Filge then looks over at Depape with pure malice. The monkey disappears behind the lab equipment.
Depape mutters something to himself, then fires off another bolt.
Nezeus once again fire a magic missile at the necrowizard.
As the uninjured zombie approaches him, Grak rotates around the damaged one in an attempt to get the one between him and the other. "You frog zombies don't dance as good as da ones in de udder room. Ya can't lay a finger on me!" The zombies, however, continue to ignore the half-orc's taunting, and his fancy footwork fails to prevent them from flanking him.
Grak swings low this time, cutting the injured zombie across the middle and depositing his intestines upon the ground. He cleaves completely through the first zombie, dumping it lifeless on the ground, and then just barely misses continuing the strike into the other zombie. (Nearly successful “Cleave”.) It swings clumsily at Grak, clubbing ineffectually at his armored shoulder.
Repeating his earlier success, Nezeus strikes the heel of his staff on the floor and shoots Filge with another magic missile. The necromancer, clearly in pain, hurls a flask of some greenish fluid at Nezeus. The fragile glass shatters on the sorcerer’s shoulder, saturating that area of his robe and depositing two fat white worms there. They immediately inch to the edge of his clothing and attach themselves to his bare flesh, beginning to burrow in.
Filge then ducks to the left, just getting behind the cover of the telescope base as Depape’s crossbow bolt bounces off the metal structure. “I will put you with my dinner guests, ‘Lord Vanthus’.” Filge’s voice carries from behind his hiding place, echoing through the large chamber. “For many, many decades you will tell me what a back-stabbing git you were in life, and how you deserved your grisly fate. You will slowly decay, while I eat gourmet food and drink fine wine.”
“Bugger you, Filge.” Von Meer growls, drawing his main gauche from its scabbard and stabbing the vile bone creature even as it continues to gnaw deeper into his thigh. “When I extricate myself from this clod of dirt which is evidently your only friend, I’ll take care of your cowardly carcass! I’ll mount yer lice-ridden head on a spike on my ship, to scare the rats away!”
Actions ?
DM Note: At first level, a mage or sorcerer can opt to have any spell he casts on himself also affect his familiar as long as it remains within 5 feet. Alternatively, he can have a spell he casts affect his familiar instead of himself. Once the caster reaches 3rd level, the familiar may deliver his touch spells.
HP Totals
Depape: full HP
Grak: -4 HP
Nezeus: full HP
Nezeus looks curiously at the worms and quickly decides it would be better to seperate them from himself. He will try to tug them off, that failing, he will use his dagger to dig them out.
Grak swings low this time, cutting the injured zombie across the middle and depositing his intestines upon the ground. He cleaves completely through the first zombie, dumping it lifeless on the ground, and then just barely misses continuing the strike into the other zombie. (Nearly successful “Cleave”.) It swings clumsily at Grak, clubbing ineffectually at his armored shoulder.
"Huh," grunts Grak, "yer buddy's a pile o froggy mush and you still ain't had enough. We'll I ain't done wit ya yet." The warrior winds up with both hands and brings his axe down on the head of the remaining zombie, trying to slice it in half from the head to the navel.
Filge then ducks to the left, just getting behind the cover of the telescope base as Depape’s crossbow bolt bounces off the metal structure. “I will put you with my dinner guests, ‘Lord Vanthus’.” Filge’s voice carries from behind his hiding place, echoing through the large chamber. “For many, many decades you will tell me what a back-stabbing git you were in life, and how you deserved your grisly fate. You will slowly decay, while I eat gourmet food and drink fine wine.”
Depape drops back a few steps and tries to move into position for a better shot at Filge, assuming he can do so while staying away from the zombies. If he can circle behind, even better...
"Huh," grunts Grak, "yer buddy's a pile o froggy mush and you still ain't had enough. We'll I ain't done wit ya yet." The warrior winds up with both hands and brings his axe down on the head of the remaining zombie, trying to slice it in half from the head to the navel. He doesn’t quite manage that, but he does chop its arm clean off. The undead creature is undeterred, however. It swings awkwardly with its other arm, an attack that Grak dodges easily.
Nezeus looks curiously at the worms and quickly decides it would be better to separate them from himself. He plucks one of the worms off without any difficulty, dropping it to the floor. The other one manages to burrow painfully into his upper chest, not far from his neck. The sorcerer is forced to use his dagger to dig under his own skin, carving the worm out (2 HP damage), and skewering it on the tip of the blade.
Throwing caution to the wind, Vanthus hacks down with his cutlass at the undead creature mauling his leg, and deals it a glancing blow that nevertheless dislodges it. It only skitters away a few feet, staring hungrily with the dark black pits it has for eyes, looking to dive back into the fight.
As you fight, you can hear Filge’s tauntings from behind the cover of the telescope base. “So I’m wondering, where did you get this latest batch of thugs, Lord Vanthus? They must not be locals, I imagine, or they’d know I’m working on a very important project for Mr. Balabar Smenk. He’ll be most upset if you disrupt my timeline. I don’t suppose you’ve told your henchmen of that little wrinkle, have you?”
Lord Vanthus retorts, “Smenk’s just a fat windbag, and yer knowin’ it, Filge. He doesn’t scare me any more than you do!”
Depape drops back a few steps and moves around at an angle around the melee, positioning himself for a better shot at Filge. The necromancer sees him just as Depape sees the necromancer, and he looks up with a lopsided grin. He’s obviously just finished a spell of some kind, and a glimmering field of force is now floating lazily in front of him. “You’d be a bit small for a zombie,” he remarks, “but as a skeleton, you’d do.” (You’re about thirty feet from each other.)
Actions ?
HP Totals
Depape: full HP
Grak: -4 HP
Nezeus: -2 HP
"Huh," grunts Grak, "yer buddy's a pile o froggy mush and you still ain't had enough. We'll I ain't done wit ya yet." The warrior winds up with both hands and brings his axe down on the head of the remaining zombie, trying to slice it in half from the head to the navel. He doesn’t quite manage that, but he does chop its arm clean off. The undead creature is undeterred, however. It swings awkwardly with its other arm, an attack that Grak dodges easily.
Grak calls out to Nezeus. "C'mon Humie! Stop fightin wit yer worms and blast im ta hell. He might zap da juggluh." He takes a step back from the zombie and calls out to Filge. "Hey Necro-Wizud, yer in trouble now. Humie's gonna turn you into...uh...into a mouse or somethin."
He turns his full attention back to the zombie and suddenly realizes that it has only one arm left. A broad smile grows on the warrior's face as he realizes what he can do. "This is gonna be so cool," he mutters. Winding up with his axe, he tries to lop off the zombie's other arm in order to render it helpless.
Depape drops back a few steps and moves around at an angle around the melee, positioning himself for a better shot at Filge. The necromancer sees him just as Depape sees the necromancer, and he looks up with a lopsided grin. He’s obviously just finished a spell of some kind, and a glimmering field of force is now floating lazily in front of him. “You’d be a bit small for a zombie,” he remarks, “but as a skeleton, you’d do.” (You’re about thirty feet from each other.)
"Skeleton, eh? I've never put on a freakshow but that would do it." Depape drops low and tries to find cover himself. He mumbles something arcane and snaps his fingers, then resumes trying to shoot Filge. "You're a bit small for a target, but you'll do."
Nezeus moves to his left and tries to flank Filge.
Depape drops back a few steps and moves around at an angle around the melee, positioning himself for a better shot at Filge. The necromancer sees him just as Depape sees the necromancer, and he looks up with a lopsided grin. He’s obviously just finished a spell of some kind, and a glimmering field of force is now floating lazily in front of him. “You’d be a bit small for a zombie,” he remarks, “but as a skeleton, you’d do.” (You’re about thirty feet from each other.)
"Skeleton, eh? I've never put on a freakshow but that would do it." Depape drops low and finds cover behind a table. He mumbles something arcane and snaps his fingers. "You're a bit small for a target, but you'll do." A small cluster of three blinking lights suddenly flare into existence and begin a crazy dance around Filge's head.
Grak calls out to Nezeus. "C'mon Humie! Stop fightin wit yer worms and blast im ta hell. He might zap da juggluh." He takes a step back from the zombie and calls out to Filge. "Hey Necro-Wizud, yer in trouble now. Humie's gonna turn you into...uh...into a mouse or somethin."
Filge retorts with a knowing grin, “Somehow I don’t find that very concerning, beast-man. Oh, and I don’t suppose that you’re the very same half-orc that was present during the unpleasantness at the von Meer mansion last night? It’s just that there are so few beast-men running about town that statistics favor the possibility that it was you.” The necromancer raises his eyebrows suggestively.
Grak turns his full attention back to the zombie and suddenly realizes that it has only one arm left. A broad smile grows on the warrior's face as he realizes what he can do. "This is gonna be so cool," he mutters. Winding up with his axe, he tries to lop off the zombie's other arm in order to render it helpless. He misses the mark by just a hair’s breadth, chopping of an ear, hacking through a chunk of jaw, and then lodging his axe momentarily in the zombie’s shoulder. He yanks the axe free, easily using the haft to block the zombie’s return attack. It’s still standing, but just barely.
Nezeus moves to his left, circling around the opposite side of the telescope base and coming around on Filge’s right flank. As he moves, he casts a spell on himself. His form briefly flares with blue light, which quickly fades away. He is about thirty feet away from the necromancer.
The little tomb construct scraps back and forth with von Meer, and they both score hits on each other. Vanthus is scratched on the leg, and he slashes the construct a ringing blow with his cutlass. Filge sees that his contruct is being beaten, and turns in their direction. (His back is now to Nezeus, and Depape is to his left flank.) He holds out his hand, whispers an incantation, and his arm stretches into a long, ghostly limb that reaches twenty feet over to von Meer, slashing him across the chest. He suddenly freezes in position, paralyzed. Filge calls to his little creation, “Tear his throat out.”
Actions?
HP Totals
Depape: full HP
Grak: -4 HP
Nezeus: -2 HP
Nezeus sighs as he is about to give his position away and cast a magic missile at the construct in an effort to save Vanthus.
Filge retorts with a knowing grin, “Somehow I don’t find that very concerning, beast-man. Oh, and I don’t suppose that you’re the very same half-orc that was present during the unpleasantness at the von Meer mansion last night? It’s just that there are so few beast-men running about town that statistics favor the possibility that it was you.”
Grak pales as he realizes that the necromancer is actually addressing him and chokes on the response. "Uh...dat...uh...dat was da Slicuh at da house. Grak's nevvuh been dere."
[QUOTE'"PbemDM"]
Filge sees that his contruct is being beaten, and turns in their direction. (His back is now to Nezeus, and Depape is to his left flank.) He holds out his hand, whispers an incantation, and his arm stretches into a long, ghostly limb that reaches twenty feet over to von Meer, slashing him across the chest. He suddenly freezes in position, paralyzed. Filge calls to his little creation, “Tear his throat out.”
"Aw, heck," mutters Grak as he notes the turn of events. "I knew necro-wizuds was bad news." Leaping away from the tottering zombie, he throws himself across the room towards the little creature and tries to smash his axe down on it's head.