Zeke takes offense at being targeted by the hobgoblin archer, particularly since the attack was ineffecitve, so he decides to take another shot at the hobgoblin (H1). "Moradin, show that no-good hobgoblin the power of your Sacred Flame!"
The swordsman turns to meet the new attack but raises it shield just a moment to late. Brockes' axe passes cleanly through the Hibgoblin's neck, sending his head rolling away while his body slumps to the ground like a marionette who's strings have been cut.
The archer must be unusually beloved by Maglubiyet, High Chieftain of the Goblin pantheon, because he once again manages to avoid the sacred flames of Moradin's justice.
(Alistair is up and Krog is more than welcome to declare new actions for this turn since Brockes' attack occured before we cycled back to group 1 initiative)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Alistair watches, a dark thrill coursing through him, as Brockes, a whirlwind of primal fury, cleaves the hobgoblin's head clean off. The metallic clang and the spray of crimson are as intoxicating as the finest wine. A throaty laugh escapes his lips, "Magnificent, Brockes!" he calls out, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. Envy, sharp and acrid, twists in his gut. Brockes reveled in the primal release, but Alistair craves something more. A silken whisper in his mind, urges him on. "Finish them, Alistair," Fierna purrs, the phantom sensation of her touch sending stimulating shivers down his spine. A flicker of red dances in his vision, and Fierna's laughter echoes in his mind, a symphony of dark delight. Humming a waltz, a twisted melody that seems to echo with the laughter of demons, Alistair dances into position while readying a bolt, his movements fluid and predatory, a waltz transformed into a deadly dance fueled by a growing bloodlust and the seductive whispers of his infernal mistress. Alistair raises his crossbow, the familiar weight a grounding presence amidst the chaos. As he lines up a shot on the hobgoblin archer, he focuses on the rhythm of the waltz, his movements controlled and precise. Brockes may have raw fury, but I have deadly grace. Alistair squeezes the trigger. The twang of the released bolt is music to his ears, a perverse thrill, a dark offering to the unseen power surging beneath his skin.
The swordsman turns to meet the new attack but raises it shield just a moment to late. Brockes' axe passes cleanly through the Hibgoblin's neck, sending his head rolling away while his body slumps to the ground like a marionette who's strings have been cut.
(Hobgoblin Archer Dex Save: 15)
Brockes lets out a mighty roar as the blood lust starts to rage inside him.
Krog will move to engage the first Hobgoblin. If he can use the prior rolls, that would be great otherwise, ATT 207
In the future, if something like this comes up we'll say to reroll. That way people won't be tempted to metagame and pick their targets based on what they are most likely to hit with their previous rolls. Fortunately, my decision doesn't have an impact here since either set of rolls would have resulted in a killing blow.
The Archer lets out a squeal of pain as Alistair looses a bolt into its belly, but it's short-lived as Krog moves into position and ends its suffering with a coup de grâce.
(End initiative. Everyone add 50 XP to your Experience.)
Zeke wipes his brow and asks, “Anyone need a pick-me-up? I can help with some healing.”
He continues, “That was some good fighting, just now. Reminds me of the time when Smithy Wollybeard and his half-orc sons got overserved and feisty at the Ox and Pox. The boys and me had to teach them a lesson. Took some time to clean all the bodily fluids from that tavern. Soup had a strange taste for a week or so… strange.”
Alistair throws his head back and booms with laughter. "Sounds like a delightful night at the Ox and Pox, Zeke! Nothing stirs the blood quite like a good tavern scuffle...or some extra 'seasoning' in the soup!" His voice, a touch too loud, echoes in the clearing. The boisterous display feels hollow on his tongue, a stark contrast to the dark thrill that had coursed through him moments ago. Disappointment gnaws at him, a dull ache beneath the surface. He craved Fierna's approval, the dark thrill of the kill, but it felt fleeting. Fierna's whispers, usually a source of dark pleasure, now echoed with a tinge of mockery. I need to be sharper, deadlier. I can't dwell on my failures, there will be other opportunities. Swallowing the bitter pill of his lapse, he forces a smile, the action strained. With a practiced ease bordering on coldness, he kneels beside Krog. "Let's see what these hobgoblins have to offer," his voice low and controlled. Alistair will help Krog, his movements efficient but devoid of their usual grace, the weight of disappointment a heavy cloak upon him.
Brockes searches the area but finds no signs of any additional hobgoblins in the immediate vicinity.
Krog and Alistair give the bodies a quick once over and come up with 5gold, 7silver, and 18coppers spread between the pair's belt pouches. A pair of quivers hold a total of 18arrows and each hobgoblin is armed with a longsword, longbow, and shield. Their traveler's outfits might besalvageable if they are mended and can be cleansed of blood and filth. Over their clothing, each Hobgoblin wears a suit of mail (chainmail armor) covered by a blue tabard marked with a simple coat of arms.
Zeke shakes his head at that particular memory and mentally rejoins the group. He wanders over to the hobgoblins and looks at the crest/coat of arms. “Anyone know anything about this crest?” (Ooc: history check 19-1=18)
He joins the search of the hobgoblins, more for curiosity than anything else. He had not seen one up close before - goblins and orcs occasionally visited Zani but never hobgoblins - so this was a good chance to take their measure, so to speak. (ooc: investigation: 8-1=7)
Zeke takes offense at being targeted by the hobgoblin archer, particularly since the attack was ineffecitve, so he decides to take another shot at the hobgoblin (H1). "Moradin, show that no-good hobgoblin the power of your Sacred Flame!"
Damage 6 if hobgoblin does not make dex save
Brockes will rush up trying to flank Hobgoblin 2 with Krog. Unleashing a massive roar as he rages, Brockes lets his axe do the talking.
Attack roll 1: 9
Damage: 9
Attack roll 2 (if having adv): 19
Damage: 12
The swordsman turns to meet the new attack but raises it shield just a moment to late. Brockes' axe passes cleanly through the Hibgoblin's neck, sending his head rolling away while his body slumps to the ground like a marionette who's strings have been cut.
(Hobgoblin Archer Dex Save: 15)
The archer must be unusually beloved by Maglubiyet, High Chieftain of the Goblin pantheon, because he once again manages to avoid the sacred flames of Moradin's justice.
(Alistair is up and Krog is more than welcome to declare new actions for this turn since Brockes' attack occured before we cycled back to group 1 initiative)
Alistair watches, a dark thrill coursing through him, as Brockes, a whirlwind of primal fury, cleaves the hobgoblin's head clean off. The metallic clang and the spray of crimson are as intoxicating as the finest wine. A throaty laugh escapes his lips, "Magnificent, Brockes!" he calls out, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. Envy, sharp and acrid, twists in his gut. Brockes reveled in the primal release, but Alistair craves something more. A silken whisper in his mind, urges him on. "Finish them, Alistair," Fierna purrs, the phantom sensation of her touch sending stimulating shivers down his spine. A flicker of red dances in his vision, and Fierna's laughter echoes in his mind, a symphony of dark delight. Humming a waltz, a twisted melody that seems to echo with the laughter of demons, Alistair dances into position while readying a bolt, his movements fluid and predatory, a waltz transformed into a deadly dance fueled by a growing bloodlust and the seductive whispers of his infernal mistress. Alistair raises his crossbow, the familiar weight a grounding presence amidst the chaos. As he lines up a shot on the hobgoblin archer, he focuses on the rhythm of the waltz, his movements controlled and precise. Brockes may have raw fury, but I have deadly grace. Alistair squeezes the trigger. The twang of the released bolt is music to his ears, a perverse thrill, a dark offering to the unseen power surging beneath his skin.
Attack: 18 Piercing Damage: 10
Krog will move to engage the first Hobgoblin. If he can use the prior rolls, that would be great otherwise, ATT 18 9
Brockes lets out a mighty roar as the blood lust starts to rage inside him.
In the future, if something like this comes up we'll say to reroll. That way people won't be tempted to metagame and pick their targets based on what they are most likely to hit with their previous rolls. Fortunately, my decision doesn't have an impact here since either set of rolls would have resulted in a killing blow.
The Archer lets out a squeal of pain as Alistair looses a bolt into its belly, but it's short-lived as Krog moves into position and ends its suffering with a coup de grâce.
(End initiative. Everyone add 50 XP to your Experience.)
Zeke wipes his brow and asks, “Anyone need a pick-me-up? I can help with some healing.”
He continues, “That was some good fighting, just now. Reminds me of the time when Smithy Wollybeard and his half-orc sons got overserved and feisty at the Ox and Pox. The boys and me had to teach them a lesson. Took some time to clean all the bodily fluids from that tavern. Soup had a strange taste for a week or so… strange.”
(Makes sense. I like the ruling GB. I am sure this will come up again.)
Krog will bow down and offer a prayer of thanksgiving for our victory, and then an offering for the lives taken. He then searches the bodies.
Alistair throws his head back and booms with laughter. "Sounds like a delightful night at the Ox and Pox, Zeke! Nothing stirs the blood quite like a good tavern scuffle...or some extra 'seasoning' in the soup!" His voice, a touch too loud, echoes in the clearing. The boisterous display feels hollow on his tongue, a stark contrast to the dark thrill that had coursed through him moments ago. Disappointment gnaws at him, a dull ache beneath the surface. He craved Fierna's approval, the dark thrill of the kill, but it felt fleeting. Fierna's whispers, usually a source of dark pleasure, now echoed with a tinge of mockery. I need to be sharper, deadlier. I can't dwell on my failures, there will be other opportunities. Swallowing the bitter pill of his lapse, he forces a smile, the action strained. With a practiced ease bordering on coldness, he kneels beside Krog. "Let's see what these hobgoblins have to offer," his voice low and controlled. Alistair will help Krog, his movements efficient but devoid of their usual grace, the weight of disappointment a heavy cloak upon him.
Brockes is still amped up from the battle and continues to be on guard and searches for more of the little greenies to swing his axe through.
Perception: 18
Brockes searches the area but finds no signs of any additional hobgoblins in the immediate vicinity.
Krog and Alistair give the bodies a quick once over and come up with 5 gold, 7 silver, and 18 coppers spread between the pair's belt pouches. A pair of quivers hold a total of 18 arrows and each hobgoblin is armed with a longsword, longbow, and shield. Their traveler's outfits might be salvageable if they are mended and can be cleansed of blood and filth. Over their clothing, each Hobgoblin wears a suit of mail (chainmail armor) covered by a blue tabard marked with a simple coat of arms.
(Mazra, make an Investigation check, with advantage from Alistair's help, to search the bodies more thoroughly)
Investigation 13
(OOC-I am guessing Alistair is better at Investigation than Krog.)
Zeke shakes his head at that particular memory and mentally rejoins the group. He wanders over to the hobgoblins and looks at the crest/coat of arms. “Anyone know anything about this crest?”
(Ooc: history check 19-1=18)
He joins the search of the hobgoblins, more for curiosity than anything else. He had not seen one up close before - goblins and orcs occasionally visited Zani but never hobgoblins - so this was a good chance to take their measure, so to speak.
(ooc: investigation: 8-1=7)
(OOC- The symbol on the Albanian flag.)
Zeke's never seen this coat of arms before, but it's distinctive enough that he can recognize it by it's description.
(I wasn't familiar with the Albanian flag. I guess we know what the visual inspiration was now!)