Erdan slings his light crossbow onto his back, and picks up the remaining torch.
"Oh, fire. I like fire!"
He twirls his hand and whispers words that sound like hissing almost (Draconic). He looks outside, and fire erupts. Create Bonfire (DC13). If one of the long poles is within 60 ft, he's aiming for it. If not, he's aim approximatly where that Dragonkin was.
((OOC, I think the pacing is good. I'm enjoying the bird puns!))
Valen keeps his shield over the window for the moment to block more projectiles, "What happened at the back door? Are we surrounded? There's too many outside; we need to either go out the back and fight out way through the alleyway, or up and hope for a way to get building-to-building. Has anyone checked the kitchen? It's been quiet in there." Though young, Valen displays combat experience that comes from years of training. The Bastion is not kind, at times cruel, to its initiates, but only so they could become harder when faced with grim odds and the mortally-wounded. However, despite all his training, the situation seems to be causing a seed of doubt to form that this may not end well.
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
((Valen: Going to rule it is intimidation, rather than deception. A big warrior priest charging forward while shouting oaths to war is more intimidating than it is a trick.))
Dahme'dre, you attempt to shame the crowd with religious revelation and though your words are compelling and purist truth, the logic of the mob is simply too much to overcome. Several in the front ranks seem to pause momentarily, considering your words but they are pushed forward by the baying masses.
Valen, you charge forward, shield deflecting a thrust from a rusty scythe through the window. You aim a blast at the Dragonkin leader but the press of the crowd is too thick. A heavyset man in blacksmith's leathers steps between you and your target. You can see his eyes widen as divine flame descends upon him from above, he attempts to dodge but there is simply no room to maneuver in a horde of fanatics and soon he's writhing in agony, the leather visibly melting against his skin in the divine fires of your god's wroth.
Garrock, a seasoned campaigner responds instantly to your voice of command, shouting to be heard above the din,"There's a door out the back, the riot will not be organized enough to truly block it but they may have sent an Arbiter or two with some goons to watch it." He gasps for breath before adding, "There's also the sewer grate in the cellar, they will not be guarding that but the sewerwatch stopped patrolling in my father's youth, we may be safer out there with the mob."
The barmaid seizes a torch before it can ignite an adjacent table and tries to hurl it out the window only to catch a flying piece of mortar in the shoulder. The sound of her arm breaking is audible even above the noise and she spins around with a scream, dropping the torch onto the rug before the hearth, the dry wool of which immediately catches. Smoke begins to fill the air.
Erdan, you step forward to the window and call forth words of arcane command in a sibilant tongue. Beyond, an effigy on a pole is suddenly enveloped in flame. The cultist carrying it drops it with a scream, the now burning humanoid puppet falling onto several others who are unable to get away in the crush. You hear the sound of screams and can taste charred flesh.
In response, you glimpse the Dragonborn ((both Dragonborn and Dragonkin are fine, I have so decided >.> ))step forward, his face twisted in a rictus of fury and hate. "You would harm the jury? You would deny justice?!" he roars ((everyone roll insight checks with disadvantage as part of your next posts please)). While he cannot see the door to the inn, he knows there must be one. Arching backward, he inhales deeply and then thrusts his scaled head forward, opening his jaws unnaturally wide. A stream of poisonous filth streams forward, washing over approximate area where the door stands. While mostly landing on stout stones, enough of it lands on the door that it outlines the frame, as well as seeping within. Garrock screams and coughs as the toxins sear his skin and fill his lungs. He stumbles away from the table he'd been setting his shoulder against.
On the second floor, the Lady Bizmaria stands in a strange, tranquil calm even as stones hurled from below shatter the window. Calmly, she pulls a single orb of glass from her robes and hands it to you (Aio) as she retrieves a scroll-wrapped arrow from her quiver. "Stay your darts," she orders, "and let us heed the example of your companions regarding the cleansing power of flame."
((Aio: The sphere is about the size of a baseball, and seems to be filled with a strange, shifting gaseous element. The glass looks thick, but not so thick that you couldn't break it. If you decide to throw it, tell me where you're aiming and make a dexterity check with proficiency. ))
Aio stares at the small glass sphere curiously. After a moment of indecision, she positions herself at the window to have an angle at the dragonborn that is leading the group. With no further preparation and, unfamiliar with the heft and shape of the sphere, she awkwardly lobs it forward.
Valen turns to see Garrock and the barmaid injured, "Someone get them to safety and tend to their wounds or hold my shield so I can." He calls back out above the crowd to the dragonborn/kin, "Never underestimate the stupidity of people in large numbers!"
(Insight: 23. The lower of my rolls was an 18?! Definitely taking that!)
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
(Insight 1)
"There is no safety in here, Shiny. We need to take them and go! My vote is the back door. Garrock, I'm sorry, I do not believe your tavern is going to survive this. Grab what you can, its time to leave!"
Erdan is going to let his concentration on the first bonfire drop and cast create bonfire again right outside the door, just far enough away that it shouldn't catch the building on fire instantly, but should impede anyone trying to get to the door. He'll keep concentrating on that as long as possible.
He grabs the barmaids good hand and starts heading towards the kitchen, and he shouts up the stairs. "Ladies, its time to leave! Are you coming?"
What does he see in the kitchen?
(OOC Edit: I put 2d20 instead of 1d20 with disadvantage. Sorry, still learning how this dice roller works. I'll change it now.)
(Probably better to leave the 2d20 and comment what the true result is)
Dahme'dre centers herself humming her quiet tune for just a moment as the dragon-man retorts (its good to have a few terms to refer to each race by.) Insight:(4)13
"Alright let's move. The sewer may be the better option, the duchess and I aren't so proper we can't handle a little muck. But there's no time to discuss it. Follow Erdan!"
As she moves away she makes an odd gesture, pointing at the crowd, arm outstretched, thumb raised. She drops the thumb like a hammer and pulls back as if absorbing the kick of released energy, and an energy is in fact released. A crackling ray fires out the window. (Eldritch Blast hits AC 9 for 5 force damage)
Valen will follow as the last out of the room, pausing first for the Duchess and Aio to come down and move to the back. If anyone tries to climb in a window before he leaves, he'll send another sacred flame their way.
(For action economy, moving to the back under Dodge and waiting for the last 2. If anyone comes in before they get out, Valen will use Sacred Flame on them. Might take a minute for them to get downstairs)
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The fire from the fallen torch spreads hungrily along the rug, consuming its dry material and beginning to lick at an adjacent table. Thick clouds of black smoke curl upward, some flowing out the two broken windows, but enough beginning to fill the room to threaten visibility and make breathing increasingly difficult.
Erdan, having heard the Dragonkin's speech, which rings utterly true to your ears and framed with the iron conviction only the purest faith can bring, you begin your retreat. With your newly created bonfire blocking the door momentarily, you lead the way into the kitchen, pulling the stumbling barmaid along with you. You find these abandoned, a large pot burning from beneath atop one of the stoves, the water or soup in it having burned away or simply never been poured.
Dahme'dre, you listen with some skepticism to the platitudes pouring forth from the mouth of the dragonkin priest. You aim your spell carefully, but the smoke from the fire and the sting of poisonous fumes from the dragonkin's breath causes your eyes to water for a moment. The blast of fenergy leaves your finger but goes wide, impacting just to the right of a window through which a masked cultist is climbing with the assistance of its fellows. Moving backward, you follow Erdan into the kitchens.
Once in the kitchen, you can both see through a partially open door at the back of the kitchens. Beyond, a scene of blood and violence awaits. Immediately before the door lie the brutally murdered corpses of several of the taverns patrons, as well as its second barmaid. Their bodies are a mess of blunt force trauma and puncture wounds, leaving behind battered, broken forms.
Over these forms kneels a brutish man in filthy leather armor, clutching a bloody club studded with nails. Blood leaks from a recently closed wound on his shoulder, and a bloody handaxe lies at his feet. At his side stands a stout dwarf woman in ringmail and carrying a shield almost the size of her own body on which is painted the scales symbol of Thratos. As you appear, she is withdrawing her hand from the brutish man's shoulder, the glow of divine healing fading from her fingers as they curl once again around her hammer.
Further down the alley, you see a more welcome sight. Standing, bloody longsword in hand over the body of a near vivisected thug is the powerful form of Haseren, still in the midst of a backswing from the blow which felled the foe before him.
Aio, as you pull your hand back to throw, the Duchess draws a scroll wrapped arrow to her cheek and aims carefully near the center of the throng besieging the tavern from below. You cast the sphere, but the smooth glass slips through your fingers, flying far too high. In an explosion of shattering fragments it bursts against the windowframe of a bare meter infront of you, the gas within pouring out in every direction.
Lady Bizmaria coughs as the gas washes over her, inadvertently releasing her quarrel. The enchanted arrow streaks into the night, flying well wide of the center of the crowd and skewering a straggling cultist which it pins against the wall of a tailor's shop across the alley. A heartbeat later, a fireball blooms in the night as the arrow detonates, sending a wall of flame and concussive force rushing through the crowd. A good third of the gathered human menagerie is flattened, killed, wounded or simply knocked prone but the blastwave sends debris and torches raining over the inn. The Duchess screams a warning and hurls you toward the stairs, a heartbeat before the flying torch reaches the spreading gas from your ill-cast sphere, detonating it in an explosion which rips half the second floor off the tavern and sends it crashing into the crowd below.
Aio, you hurtle down the stairs, bouncing off the steps and balustrade like a missile and landing at Valen's feet. ((Aio, please take 5 points of concussive damage and are stunned))
Valen, you heroically hold the bottom of the stairs, a wave of your hand sending righteous flame to sear the first cultist who climbs to through the righthand window. You watch as a mighty axe blow cleaves through the door, dispelling the illusion which was concealing it and leaving a gash in the wood. Suddenly, an explosion makes a 'crump' sound some distance to the south, well beyond the tavern wall. You barely have time to ponder this occurrence when a deafening boom from above shakes the world. A rain of masonry falls all around you and a dazed and badly hurt Aio comes hurtling down the stairs, bouncing in bone-jarring fashion to crumple at your feet. Dust is everywhere, obscuring visibility but from what you can tell, much of the top floor and southern wall of the tavern is no longer there.
(( Roll initiative as part of your next post please, ladies and gentlemen (except Haseren)! Note: He and I have been playing in PM's for a while as he was cut off from getting to the tavern with ya'll by the crowd. Surprise! ))
(( Also, tell your kids not to critically fail when throwing magical globes full of highly explosive gas. I'm not MADE of plot critical NPCs you know! :( ))
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Aio crashes to the ground in a heap in front of Valen from where the Duchess threw her. She looks up at the Cleric with unfocused eyes, beak opening briefly before closing with a sigh.
Valen is understandably caught off-guard by how things are turning out. He decides the best course of action is to grab Aio and drag her out of the room to the back. "Get up! We need to move!" His voice carries a commanding, divine weight
(I would assume that takes up my Action and Move. Healing Word for the minor action to cure 5 hp. If I still have an Action available, I'll charge the cleric with axe in-hand)
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Dahme'dre's humming continues as the battle truly begins (init: (4)19 if you'll allow the Guidance) She calls for the blessing of her patron as she begins to sing... "I was weak, yet not unblessed. Dead to the world. Alive for the journey..." The spell takes affect yet the song goes on. She uses the power to guide her allies, Valen, Aio, and Erdan gain Bless.
((Was that a charm effect? I have advantage to saving throws to charm effects.))
Initiative 3
Erdan is confused by his new found faith. He is wary of harming the jury, so he will drop concentration on the bonfire.
Seeing the scene in front of him, his anger at the slain innocents flairs.
"This is not justice! Let's just take a nap for now!" He cast sleep (22). He is centering it in the alley so the 20ft radius encompasses the two forms at the door, but avoiding Haseren.
Aio's eyes begin to focus after the Healing Word is cast by the cleric and she regains her feet, albeit unsteadily. She sees the dead littering the ground at the door to the outside before she sees the warriors standing ready.
We'll be sitting ducks for the mob out front if we don't make our way through these two. Alright. I can do this.
Aio squares her shoulders and draws her shortsword yet again. Her confidence faded, however, as she thought back on what happened to the Duchess.
Was she killed? Did I leave her to die? What have I done?
Her shoulders droop a bit and the tip of her sword lowers several inches at the thought.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10) League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
(Did you mean what Valen said? That was more to go along with the Healing Word since Aio was injured and generally dazed from being thrown down the stairs.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
(OOC: Joe was talking about his reaction to the dragonborn's words - the insight check was what did that, because it was a deception. Though joe also shouldn't be casting any combat spells yet, since he just rolled for initiative. He would have to wait until combat began. )
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10) League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
((No, Erdan is convinced that The Withering is The Judge's punishment. We harm jurists and deny judgement. Dahme'dre said "First judge yourselves" with 21 persuasion))
(I believe the actions just prior to initiative are combat initiators. A round is only 6 seconds which is a shockingly short window of time. Therefore, Valen moving to the back of the room and shooting a cultist/rioter, the bulb shattering, arrow exploding, upper floor collapsing, and discovering the murder in the kitchen would've all happened almost simultaneously. Valen's Healing Word and movement to the kitchen would happen on his first turn. He also has much more to say, but I'll let that come out during the turn because, again, 6 seconds :) )
(EDIT: I think a lot of posts are happening at once, but I believe everyone is in agreement that anything after the roof nearly coming down on us will occur in initiative order.)
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
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(Not at all, it's perfect. May you never run out of species.)
Extended Signature
Erdan slings his light crossbow onto his back, and picks up the remaining torch.
"Oh, fire. I like fire!"
He twirls his hand and whispers words that sound like hissing almost (Draconic). He looks outside, and fire erupts. Create Bonfire (DC13). If one of the long poles is within 60 ft, he's aiming for it. If not, he's aim approximatly where that Dragonkin was.
((OOC, I think the pacing is good. I'm enjoying the bird puns!))
Valen keeps his shield over the window for the moment to block more projectiles, "What happened at the back door? Are we surrounded? There's too many outside; we need to either go out the back and fight out way through the alleyway, or up and hope for a way to get building-to-building. Has anyone checked the kitchen? It's been quiet in there." Though young, Valen displays combat experience that comes from years of training. The Bastion is not kind, at times cruel, to its initiates, but only so they could become harder when faced with grim odds and the mortally-wounded. However, despite all his training, the situation seems to be causing a seed of doubt to form that this may not end well.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
((Valen: Going to rule it is intimidation, rather than deception. A big warrior priest charging forward while shouting oaths to war is more intimidating than it is a trick.))
Dahme'dre, you attempt to shame the crowd with religious revelation and though your words are compelling and purist truth, the logic of the mob is simply too much to overcome. Several in the front ranks seem to pause momentarily, considering your words but they are pushed forward by the baying masses.
Valen, you charge forward, shield deflecting a thrust from a rusty scythe through the window. You aim a blast at the Dragonkin leader but the press of the crowd is too thick. A heavyset man in blacksmith's leathers steps between you and your target. You can see his eyes widen as divine flame descends upon him from above, he attempts to dodge but there is simply no room to maneuver in a horde of fanatics and soon he's writhing in agony, the leather visibly melting against his skin in the divine fires of your god's wroth.
Garrock, a seasoned campaigner responds instantly to your voice of command, shouting to be heard above the din,"There's a door out the back, the riot will not be organized enough to truly block it but they may have sent an Arbiter or two with some goons to watch it." He gasps for breath before adding, "There's also the sewer grate in the cellar, they will not be guarding that but the sewerwatch stopped patrolling in my father's youth, we may be safer out there with the mob."
The barmaid seizes a torch before it can ignite an adjacent table and tries to hurl it out the window only to catch a flying piece of mortar in the shoulder. The sound of her arm breaking is audible even above the noise and she spins around with a scream, dropping the torch onto the rug before the hearth, the dry wool of which immediately catches. Smoke begins to fill the air.
Erdan, you step forward to the window and call forth words of arcane command in a sibilant tongue. Beyond, an effigy on a pole is suddenly enveloped in flame. The cultist carrying it drops it with a scream, the now burning humanoid puppet falling onto several others who are unable to get away in the crush. You hear the sound of screams and can taste charred flesh.
In response, you glimpse the Dragonborn ((both Dragonborn and Dragonkin are fine, I have so decided >.> ))step forward, his face twisted in a rictus of fury and hate. "You would harm the jury? You would deny justice?!" he roars ((everyone roll insight checks with disadvantage as part of your next posts please)). While he cannot see the door to the inn, he knows there must be one. Arching backward, he inhales deeply and then thrusts his scaled head forward, opening his jaws unnaturally wide. A stream of poisonous filth streams forward, washing over approximate area where the door stands. While mostly landing on stout stones, enough of it lands on the door that it outlines the frame, as well as seeping within. Garrock screams and coughs as the toxins sear his skin and fill his lungs. He stumbles away from the table he'd been setting his shoulder against.
On the second floor, the Lady Bizmaria stands in a strange, tranquil calm even as stones hurled from below shatter the window. Calmly, she pulls a single orb of glass from her robes and hands it to you (Aio) as she retrieves a scroll-wrapped arrow from her quiver. "Stay your darts," she orders, "and let us heed the example of your companions regarding the cleansing power of flame."
((Aio: The sphere is about the size of a baseball, and seems to be filled with a strange, shifting gaseous element. The glass looks thick, but not so thick that you couldn't break it. If you decide to throw it, tell me where you're aiming and make a dexterity check with proficiency. ))
Aio stares at the small glass sphere curiously. After a moment of indecision, she positions herself at the window to have an angle at the dragonborn that is leading the group. With no further preparation and, unfamiliar with the heft and shape of the sphere, she awkwardly lobs it forward.
Acrobatics: 4 (sorry, should be +5)
Insight: 13 13 (I need to figure out these rolling commands. Sorry.)
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10)
League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
Valen turns to see Garrock and the barmaid injured, "Someone get them to safety and tend to their wounds or hold my shield so I can." He calls back out above the crowd to the dragonborn/kin, "Never underestimate the stupidity of people in large numbers!"
(Insight: 23. The lower of my rolls was an 18?! Definitely taking that!)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
(Insight 1)
"There is no safety in here, Shiny. We need to take them and go! My vote is the back door. Garrock, I'm sorry, I do not believe your tavern is going to survive this. Grab what you can, its time to leave!"
Erdan is going to let his concentration on the first bonfire drop and cast create bonfire again right outside the door, just far enough away that it shouldn't catch the building on fire instantly, but should impede anyone trying to get to the door. He'll keep concentrating on that as long as possible.
He grabs the barmaids good hand and starts heading towards the kitchen, and he shouts up the stairs. "Ladies, its time to leave! Are you coming?"
What does he see in the kitchen?
(OOC Edit: I put 2d20 instead of 1d20 with disadvantage. Sorry, still learning how this dice roller works. I'll change it now.)
(Probably better to leave the 2d20 and comment what the true result is)
Dahme'dre centers herself humming her quiet tune for just a moment as the dragon-man retorts (its good to have a few terms to refer to each race by.) Insight:(4)13
"Alright let's move. The sewer may be the better option, the duchess and I aren't so proper we can't handle a little muck. But there's no time to discuss it. Follow Erdan!"
As she moves away she makes an odd gesture, pointing at the crowd, arm outstretched, thumb raised. She drops the thumb like a hammer and pulls back as if absorbing the kick of released energy, and an energy is in fact released. A crackling ray fires out the window. (Eldritch Blast hits AC 9 for 5 force damage)
"Let's move!" She follows Erdan into the Kitchen.
Extended Signature
Valen will follow as the last out of the room, pausing first for the Duchess and Aio to come down and move to the back. If anyone tries to climb in a window before he leaves, he'll send another sacred flame their way.
(For action economy, moving to the back under Dodge and waiting for the last 2. If anyone comes in before they get out, Valen will use Sacred Flame on them. Might take a minute for them to get downstairs)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The fire from the fallen torch spreads hungrily along the rug, consuming its dry material and beginning to lick at an adjacent table. Thick clouds of black smoke curl upward, some flowing out the two broken windows, but enough beginning to fill the room to threaten visibility and make breathing increasingly difficult.
Erdan, having heard the Dragonkin's speech, which rings utterly true to your ears and framed with the iron conviction only the purest faith can bring, you begin your retreat. With your newly created bonfire blocking the door momentarily, you lead the way into the kitchen, pulling the stumbling barmaid along with you. You find these abandoned, a large pot burning from beneath atop one of the stoves, the water or soup in it having burned away or simply never been poured.
Dahme'dre, you listen with some skepticism to the platitudes pouring forth from the mouth of the dragonkin priest. You aim your spell carefully, but the smoke from the fire and the sting of poisonous fumes from the dragonkin's breath causes your eyes to water for a moment. The blast of fenergy leaves your finger but goes wide, impacting just to the right of a window through which a masked cultist is climbing with the assistance of its fellows. Moving backward, you follow Erdan into the kitchens.
Once in the kitchen, you can both see through a partially open door at the back of the kitchens. Beyond, a scene of blood and violence awaits. Immediately before the door lie the brutally murdered corpses of several of the taverns patrons, as well as its second barmaid. Their bodies are a mess of blunt force trauma and puncture wounds, leaving behind battered, broken forms.
Over these forms kneels a brutish man in filthy leather armor, clutching a bloody club studded with nails. Blood leaks from a recently closed wound on his shoulder, and a bloody handaxe lies at his feet. At his side stands a stout dwarf woman in ringmail and carrying a shield almost the size of her own body on which is painted the scales symbol of Thratos. As you appear, she is withdrawing her hand from the brutish man's shoulder, the glow of divine healing fading from her fingers as they curl once again around her hammer.
Further down the alley, you see a more welcome sight. Standing, bloody longsword in hand over the body of a near vivisected thug is the powerful form of Haseren, still in the midst of a backswing from the blow which felled the foe before him.
Aio, as you pull your hand back to throw, the Duchess draws a scroll wrapped arrow to her cheek and aims carefully near the center of the throng besieging the tavern from below. You cast the sphere, but the smooth glass slips through your fingers, flying far too high. In an explosion of shattering fragments it bursts against the windowframe of a bare meter infront of you, the gas within pouring out in every direction.
Lady Bizmaria coughs as the gas washes over her, inadvertently releasing her quarrel. The enchanted arrow streaks into the night, flying well wide of the center of the crowd and skewering a straggling cultist which it pins against the wall of a tailor's shop across the alley. A heartbeat later, a fireball blooms in the night as the arrow detonates, sending a wall of flame and concussive force rushing through the crowd. A good third of the gathered human menagerie is flattened, killed, wounded or simply knocked prone but the blastwave sends debris and torches raining over the inn. The Duchess screams a warning and hurls you toward the stairs, a heartbeat before the flying torch reaches the spreading gas from your ill-cast sphere, detonating it in an explosion which rips half the second floor off the tavern and sends it crashing into the crowd below.
Aio, you hurtle down the stairs, bouncing off the steps and balustrade like a missile and landing at Valen's feet. ((Aio, please take 5 points of concussive damage and are stunned))
Valen, you heroically hold the bottom of the stairs, a wave of your hand sending righteous flame to sear the first cultist who climbs to through the righthand window. You watch as a mighty axe blow cleaves through the door, dispelling the illusion which was concealing it and leaving a gash in the wood. Suddenly, an explosion makes a 'crump' sound some distance to the south, well beyond the tavern wall. You barely have time to ponder this occurrence when a deafening boom from above shakes the world. A rain of masonry falls all around you and a dazed and badly hurt Aio comes hurtling down the stairs, bouncing in bone-jarring fashion to crumple at your feet. Dust is everywhere, obscuring visibility but from what you can tell, much of the top floor and southern wall of the tavern is no longer there.
(( Roll initiative as part of your next post please, ladies and gentlemen (except Haseren)! Note: He and I have been playing in PM's for a while as he was cut off from getting to the tavern with ya'll by the crowd. Surprise! ))
(( Also, tell your kids not to critically fail when throwing magical globes full of highly explosive gas. I'm not MADE of plot critical NPCs you know! :( ))
Aio crashes to the ground in a heap in front of Valen from where the Duchess threw her. She looks up at the Cleric with unfocused eyes, beak opening briefly before closing with a sigh.
Initiative: 17
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10)
League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
(Initiative: 4)
Valen is understandably caught off-guard by how things are turning out. He decides the best course of action is to grab Aio and drag her out of the room to the back. "Get up! We need to move!" His voice carries a commanding, divine weight
(I would assume that takes up my Action and Move. Healing Word for the minor action to cure 5 hp. If I still have an Action available, I'll charge the cleric with axe in-hand)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Dahme'dre's humming continues as the battle truly begins (init: (4)19 if you'll allow the Guidance) She calls for the blessing of her patron as she begins to sing... "I was weak, yet not unblessed. Dead to the world. Alive for the journey..." The spell takes affect yet the song goes on. She uses the power to guide her allies, Valen, Aio, and Erdan gain Bless.
Extended Signature
((Was that a charm effect? I have advantage to saving throws to charm effects.))
Initiative 3
Erdan is confused by his new found faith. He is wary of harming the jury, so he will drop concentration on the bonfire.
Seeing the scene in front of him, his anger at the slain innocents flairs.
"This is not justice! Let's just take a nap for now!" He cast sleep (22). He is centering it in the alley so the 20ft radius encompasses the two forms at the door, but avoiding Haseren.
Aio's eyes begin to focus after the Healing Word is cast by the cleric and she regains her feet, albeit unsteadily. She sees the dead littering the ground at the door to the outside before she sees the warriors standing ready.
We'll be sitting ducks for the mob out front if we don't make our way through these two. Alright. I can do this.
Aio squares her shoulders and draws her shortsword yet again. Her confidence faded, however, as she thought back on what happened to the Duchess.
Was she killed? Did I leave her to die? What have I done?
Her shoulders droop a bit and the tip of her sword lowers several inches at the thought.
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10)
League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
((Contested skill. your insight vs. his persuasion maybe try against my speech too. Dahme'dre will make you doubt your entire world view =P ))
Extended Signature
(Did you mean what Valen said? That was more to go along with the Healing Word since Aio was injured and generally dazed from being thrown down the stairs.)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
(OOC: Joe was talking about his reaction to the dragonborn's words - the insight check was what did that, because it was a deception. Though joe also shouldn't be casting any combat spells yet, since he just rolled for initiative. He would have to wait until combat began. )
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10)
League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
((No, Erdan is convinced that The Withering is The Judge's punishment. We harm jurists and deny judgement. Dahme'dre said "First judge yourselves" with 21 persuasion))
Extended Signature
(I believe the actions just prior to initiative are combat initiators. A round is only 6 seconds which is a shockingly short window of time. Therefore, Valen moving to the back of the room and shooting a cultist/rioter, the bulb shattering, arrow exploding, upper floor collapsing, and discovering the murder in the kitchen would've all happened almost simultaneously. Valen's Healing Word and movement to the kitchen would happen on his first turn. He also has much more to say, but I'll let that come out during the turn because, again, 6 seconds :) )
(EDIT: I think a lot of posts are happening at once, but I believe everyone is in agreement that anything after the roof nearly coming down on us will occur in initiative order.)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero