The Silver Queen glides to your side, Gramdal. Her voice rises from the roots of magic. "The point is, we are trying to decide how to proceed. No one here has done business with this Gravva." She addresses the crowd in her own way, with her own words. "I call for a respite. Let us consider this meeting carefully. We survived the Bhaalspawn. Luck was not on our side. We lost friends. We lost holdings. We were driven out of the gates and into the Outer City."
She says no more and departs. In your mind Gramdal, you hear the Silver Queen's voice. Forgive this intrusion. Please, if you would, join me and my attendants in my suite. An alliance with orcs is not as clear cut as steel. Orcs are brutish, uncivilized creatures. This Vekka—I'm not so certain—She came with words, not weapons.
Gramdal looks at the others, his hand resting on Vapurrr's pommel. He scans the room for any hint of betrayal. "Aye. As The Silver Queen says. We should consider our positions carefully, and the words spoken here even more so. "He lets out a steady sigh and unclenches. No good being bunched up. If an attack did come, it would be better to be relaxed and fluid. Better for the reflexes. "I fully intend to dwell further on Vekka's words, but in private. " Gramdal gives a respectable nod to Vekka and then takes his leave. He needs to get to The Silver Queen's suite. Is she a possible ally? Hard to say with these mystic types. They're always playing up being friendly, or just so alien. Hard to get a good read on them.
"Cath no worries when I was serving in the military i've had to use this spell a lot more, goblin night raids can get wild, just stand back so you don't get hit by a stray bolt!"
Those is attendance at the Red Cowl, where the Old Alliance cabal gathers seems to be in agreement with the sentiment the Silver Queen expressed.
The obese dwarf Jhaval leans back into his throne at the far end of the hall. He is not above pleasantries—eating a salad perhaps—tapping his chin pensively. Vekka would not be here without his permission, and that is a very unsettling thought to ponder, Gramdal.
What is Jhaval's interest in all of this? Power? Greed? Sport? Revenge?
As the Silver Queen slips away from the meeting, her halflings file into a line, some ahead and some behind her. Roll for Perception.
The one trustworthy aspect to a wall, Arutha, is that it won't move until it's been made to move. Although you are no match for the ship's hull, you grunt and take the impact, rebounding back onto your feet
You hear the rapid thud—thud—thud of footsteps up the wooden stairs to the deck.
"This is what it says. Open the oubliette at your own risk. The elves are dead, but their bones are not. So those bones in the put will come to life if we open this prison. Problem is we need to open it to get you out. So get ready to fight cause I'm gonna get you out one way or another."
Pulling his hammer out Cath grips it with both hands and swings at the metal bar that is red hot hoping to break it and allow enough room for Norvalor and the boy to squeeze out.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Jhaval. What does he know about all this? What really? One matter at a time though. But Gramdal does keep it simmering on the back of his mind. For now, The Silver Queen requested an audience and Gramdal is of a mind to oblige. But first...
Arutha takes off after the retreating sound ans as he ran he speaks to Warrior. "You clearly are a magical sword, are you able to sense the presence of that drow?" As he finishes he listens and looks to see if he can tell where it could have gone.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Vekka returns your gaze and nods her head in your direction Gramdal. There is something different about her. Besides her deformities, her demeanor, and her poise. You can't quite put a finger on the pulse of it, but you sense something—
—different about her.
Into the passageway, third from the right, the group enters.
As the the Silver Queen's halfling attendants slip into a rehearsed order, you hear the Silver Queen whisper. "Uffalin (oo-PHA-leen), you know what to do."
Uffalin never bothers to acknowledge her directive. He's the second from the halfling leading the group. They all look the same anyway to you. Who else but the Silver Queen can keep them all sorted out anyway.
With practiced ease, the halfling veers to the left, using the people behind him in line to mask the magic he uses to disappear. He doesn't vanish with a pop or through a cloud. He slips into the air.
You've heard of such skill before. On your travels and in your stays in whatever lodging you could find. Natives of Chult sometimes call this slithering. As in a creature simply slithers through an obstacle. This is more than magic—this is psionics.
Warrior answers your call, Arutha. In your mind you hear the weapon. My skills are vast, my triumphs many; a plenty are the ways I can aid you, but what you ask I cannot do.
Thud—thud—thud—thud—! The drow is up the stairs and onto the deck. The moon curves tonight, gleaming and smiling brightly.
You see the faint ripple of fabric spool around railing, twist, and gather. Roll for Perception or Arcana. (Your choice.)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Arutha Ran towards the railing where he saw the ripple. (Peception: 4 ) Warrior at ready to strike at the Drow if possible. "It was worth a try," he thought in regard to Warriors response
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
In the moonlight, whatever properties the magical cloak the drow is wearing are starting to lose their Underdark efficiency. The magic wanes, and like a curtain drawn open to let in the light, the magic of the cloak falls, revealing the drow beneath.
The dark elf's eyes shoot wide open with alarm.
Stunned, hissing a curse, his weapon leaps into his only available hand. With a wrist flick he twirls the blade in his gloved palm. The rapier spins easily, though you, Arutha, can see the weapon is used to his other hand. It's below deck, where Warrior took it and left it.
Well, Cath, you've heard ye ol' dwarven adage. If'n at first the metal doesn't spark. Try and try again!
In other words, yer weapon didn't strike a convincing blow. It's understandable. There are lives on the line! Norvalor! Traever! The bones of the elves in the pit are surein' to rise as undead and make things difficult for the lot of you when you open the oubliette. Attack again.
Cath looks to the boy and Norvalor. "I ain't gonna let some iron bar keep me down boys. I'll get this apart for you for sure. Just give me a few swings as its tougher than it looks!"
He tightens his grip and eyes the bar for a second and then lets it fly again, in his mind he imagines an orc head in place of the bar.
(so actually I get 2 attacks per action so I'm gonna roll an extra from last time and 2 more for this action and Ol Cath is just hammering away!)
With a growl of anger Arutha lunged at the drow, looking to skewer it with his sword. His vision almost tunnel like in the focus he had on his foe. He vowed to not let the creature escape again with its life. Attack: 7 Damage: 9
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Norvalor readies some Eldritch blast for when undead spawn from the hole, while saying "Traever get ready for a fight and stay close to me!" as his hands start to glow in a golden light.
And another, as the firebolt slams the metal from one side and your weapon continues to find its imaginary orc.
The runes brighten. Crack. Then, at long last, a chunk of super-heated metal breaks away. Another. And another.
But Now, you suddenly have a different problem. Norvalor and Cath, you need to challenge each other's wits. Cath, make an Insight or Acrobatics check against Norvalor’s Intelligence score. You are attempting to predict when you should move out of the away of the firebolt, now that there's enough room between bars for the spell to fly through, and strike you Cath.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The drow sneers at you Arutha. "Fool," and he counters with his longsword.
(I'm introducing Block and Parry rules; they're homebrew and updated from an earlier edition.)
Block and Parry rules only apply to melee combat against a single enemy. If your enemy hits, your attack modifier automatically reduces whatever damage it rolls, including critical hit damage. The same rules apply for the creature. Since this site can't factor in this homebrew arbitration, adjust the damage manually.
The drow. Attack: 24 Damage: Unable to parse dice roll. Damage. 6
(My apologies for the parse. I went back in and added a separate Dice Roll for the damage.)
Gramdal looks at the others, his hand resting on Vapurrr's pommel. He scans the room for any hint of betrayal. "Aye. As The Silver Queen says. We should consider our positions carefully, and the words spoken here even more so. " He lets out a steady sigh and unclenches. No good being bunched up. If an attack did come, it would be better to be relaxed and fluid. Better for the reflexes. "I fully intend to dwell further on Vekka's words, but in private. " Gramdal gives a respectable nod to Vekka and then takes his leave. He needs to get to The Silver Queen's suite. Is she a possible ally? Hard to say with these mystic types. They're always playing up being friendly, or just so alien. Hard to get a good read on them.
"Cath no worries when I was serving in the military i've had to use this spell a lot more, goblin night raids can get wild, just stand back so you don't get hit by a stray bolt!"
Those is attendance at the Red Cowl, where the Old Alliance cabal gathers seems to be in agreement with the sentiment the Silver Queen expressed.
The obese dwarf Jhaval leans back into his throne at the far end of the hall. He is not above pleasantries—eating a salad perhaps—tapping his chin pensively. Vekka would not be here without his permission, and that is a very unsettling thought to ponder, Gramdal.
What is Jhaval's interest in all of this? Power? Greed? Sport? Revenge?
As the Silver Queen slips away from the meeting, her halflings file into a line, some ahead and some behind her. Roll for Perception.
The temperature in the chamber begins to rise, as the firebolt spell Norvalor repeatedly casts against the metal bars begins to heat up the area.
Runes appear up and down the metal bar, Cath. The glyphs are easy to read; they are not magical in nature.
The glyphs read: Open the oubliette at your own risk. The elves are dead, but their bones are not.
The one trustworthy aspect to a wall, Arutha, is that it won't move until it's been made to move. Although you are no match for the ship's hull, you grunt and take the impact, rebounding back onto your feet
You hear the rapid thud—thud—thud of footsteps up the wooden stairs to the deck.
Cath reads the runes,
"This is what it says. Open the oubliette at your own risk. The elves are dead, but their bones are not. So those bones in the put will come to life if we open this prison. Problem is we need to open it to get you out. So get ready to fight cause I'm gonna get you out one way or another."
Pulling his hammer out Cath grips it with both hands and swings at the metal bar that is red hot hoping to break it and allow enough room for Norvalor and the boy to squeeze out.
Jhaval. What does he know about all this? What really? One matter at a time though. But Gramdal does keep it simmering on the back of his mind. For now, The Silver Queen requested an audience and Gramdal is of a mind to oblige. But first...
Perception: 20
Arutha takes off after the retreating sound ans as he ran he speaks to Warrior. "You clearly are a magical sword, are you able to sense the presence of that drow?" As he finishes he listens and looks to see if he can tell where it could have gone.
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Vekka returns your gaze and nods her head in your direction Gramdal. There is something different about her. Besides her deformities, her demeanor, and her poise. You can't quite put a finger on the pulse of it, but you sense something—
—different about her.
Into the passageway, third from the right, the group enters.
As the the Silver Queen's halfling attendants slip into a rehearsed order, you hear the Silver Queen whisper. "Uffalin (oo-PHA-leen), you know what to do."
Uffalin never bothers to acknowledge her directive. He's the second from the halfling leading the group. They all look the same anyway to you. Who else but the Silver Queen can keep them all sorted out anyway.
With practiced ease, the halfling veers to the left, using the people behind him in line to mask the magic he uses to disappear. He doesn't vanish with a pop or through a cloud. He slips into the air.
You've heard of such skill before. On your travels and in your stays in whatever lodging you could find. Natives of Chult sometimes call this slithering. As in a creature simply slithers through an obstacle. This is more than magic—this is psionics.
The metal is hot Cath. Like a forge fire. The tips of your hair catch fire, crinkle, then burn out into smoky embers.
Swing away! Make an attack roll.
Warrior answers your call, Arutha. In your mind you hear the weapon. My skills are vast, my triumphs many; a plenty are the ways I can aid you, but what you ask I cannot do.
Thud—thud—thud—thud—! The drow is up the stairs and onto the deck. The moon curves tonight, gleaming and smiling brightly.
You see the faint ripple of fabric spool around railing, twist, and gather. Roll for Perception or Arcana. (Your choice.)
Arutha Ran towards the railing where he saw the ripple. (Peception: 4 ) Warrior at ready to strike at the Drow if possible. "It was worth a try," he thought in regard to Warriors response
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Attack: 9 Damage: 7
In the moonlight, whatever properties the magical cloak the drow is wearing are starting to lose their Underdark efficiency. The magic wanes, and like a curtain drawn open to let in the light, the magic of the cloak falls, revealing the drow beneath.
The dark elf's eyes shoot wide open with alarm.
Stunned, hissing a curse, his weapon leaps into his only available hand. With a wrist flick he twirls the blade in his gloved palm. The rapier spins easily, though you, Arutha, can see the weapon is used to his other hand. It's below deck, where Warrior took it and left it.
Well, Cath, you've heard ye ol' dwarven adage. If'n at first the metal doesn't spark. Try and try again!
In other words, yer weapon didn't strike a convincing blow. It's understandable. There are lives on the line! Norvalor! Traever! The bones of the elves in the pit are surein' to rise as undead and make things difficult for the lot of you when you open the oubliette. Attack again.
Cath looks to the boy and Norvalor. "I ain't gonna let some iron bar keep me down boys. I'll get this apart for you for sure. Just give me a few swings as its tougher than it looks!"
He tightens his grip and eyes the bar for a second and then lets it fly again, in his mind he imagines an orc head in place of the bar.
(so actually I get 2 attacks per action so I'm gonna roll an extra from last time and 2 more for this action and Ol Cath is just hammering away!)
Attack: 10 Damage: 5
Attack: 15 Damage: 9
Attack: 23 Damage: 9
With a growl of anger Arutha lunged at the drow, looking to skewer it with his sword. His vision almost tunnel like in the focus he had on his foe. He vowed to not let the creature escape again with its life. Attack: 7 Damage: 9
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Norvalor readies some Eldritch blast for when undead spawn from the hole, while saying "Traever get ready for a fight and stay close to me!" as his hands start to glow in a golden light.
Sparks fly under the swing of your weapon, Cath.
With each strike follows a resounding CLANNNGGGG.
And another, as the firebolt slams the metal from one side and your weapon continues to find its imaginary orc.
The runes brighten. Crack. Then, at long last, a chunk of super-heated metal breaks away. Another. And another.
But Now, you suddenly have a different problem. Norvalor and Cath, you need to challenge each other's wits. Cath, make an Insight or Acrobatics check against Norvalor’s Intelligence score. You are attempting to predict when you should move out of the away of the firebolt, now that there's enough room between bars for the spell to fly through, and strike you Cath.
The drow sneers at you Arutha. "Fool," and he counters with his longsword.
(I'm introducing Block and Parry rules; they're homebrew and updated from an earlier edition.)
Block and Parry rules only apply to melee combat against a single enemy. If your enemy hits, your attack modifier automatically reduces whatever damage it rolls, including critical hit damage. The same rules apply for the creature. Since this site can't factor in this homebrew arbitration, adjust the damage manually.
The drow. Attack: 24 Damage: Unable to parse dice roll.
Damage. 6
(My apologies for the parse. I went back in and added a separate Dice Roll for the damage.)