Raising the shield reflexively, Ollezall blocks the blow.
Noticing the amulet, Ollezall breathes "so cool" before refocusing on the sword.
On his next round (2) he will weave the signs for sacred-flame for 1 damage; Dexterity 15 save .
Nevermind. The sword gets a warm glow of sunshine on its blade and probably feels better about its existence as an enchanted blade. It decides after slaughtering us, it WILL enroll in that course it's been thinking about 'You aren't just a weapon for enchantment: How to advocate in your servitude for recognition and better conditions'.
The orc seems to shrug off the sword's attack, his rage pushing him past the pain. He responds with another fierce swing of his blade at the magical menace. (The damaged one if within reach, else the other)
In his relaxed state, lounging in the chair, perusing some literature, smoking a pipe in his reading jacket, and having stoically fended off the previous attack, Ollezall is barely able to muster the spiritual enthusiasm to both hit AND damage the sword that attacked him.
Syd charges forward to deliver a finishing blow against the badly damaged sword that was menacing Ollezall. As the greatsword makes contact with the flying sword, the flying sword shatters as if it were glass.
The second sword, still having its full measure of vigour, whirls around to turn on Cerlinde. It attempts to match its own enchantments against hers.
(Aside from our wayward companions, I think that only Cerlinde needs to take an action in round 2. If things get hairy, I'll bot in Mohdrak and Dyumi.)
Feeling a bit safer now the immediate threat to his life is vanquished (and a bit sad the enchanted blade will not be able to attend his personal development course), Ollezall musters strength draws a dart and throws it at the remaining sword.
Cerlinde will need no planar magic on this attack, as her Fire Bolt easily finds its target. The blade briefly glows as the searing heat of the flame surrounds it.
Syd is unable to keep the streak going as the remaining sword seems to have adapted to his attacking style and manages a nifty evasive maneuver. Perhaps it is powered by <schwarzenegger>"a neural net processor... a learning computer."</schwarzenegger>
Ollezall continues to demonstrate the oft-overlooked, versatile excellence of the dart, along with his prowess with it. His battle cry rings out as the dart buries in the sword's hilt, throwing off its equlibrium.
Drawn by the cry and the new unwanted pointy adornment jammed into it, the flying sword turns on Ollezall and attempts a wobbly attack.
Ollezall moves to parry the blow with his shield, knocking the blade away.
If Cerlinde doesn't destroy the blade Ollezall will call forth toll-the-dead for 2 damage or 3 if the target is missing any of its hit points; WIS 15 save.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Cerlinde is really heating up with those Fire Bolts, as her latest effort slams into the sword. The heat softens the blade, but the sword remains aloft and menacing.
Ollezall once again summons the tolling portent of doom, which further rattles the increasingly pitiful sword. It is now aloft, but not very menacing.
While the party has all taken some damage from the airborne steel, they emerge victorious yet again. Syd's rage and courage help to vanquish the second sword as his own blade cleaves it in twain. The two pieces, now thoroughly lifeless, clatter to the ground. One lands near Ollezall, who is clutching his wound. The illusory flames in the fireplace seemed to flare up as the final strike was delivered and are now blazing strongly, their light dancing in the eyes of the creatures' heads mounted on the wall.
"Anyone hurt?" Ollezall will ask. Ollezall nurses a nasty wound (perhaps a leg or something). "Perhaps if nobody is mortally wounded we might be able to rest here a little? I can heal everyone a little bit ( 4 points to share around) and we can assess again after a rest, or I have enough magic for 1 healing, and a healing potion or two; although, I was saving my last bit of magic to complete my healing potion brewing in the kitchen. No matter, if you guys need healing I'm here to help. "
Mohdrak lifted his head from his flail, slowly blinking away the fog that had glazed his eyes. There was something magical about the book, something that caused his mind to be preoccupied and be focused on just one single thing. The letters on the pages twisted and twirled, smushed and blended together in a rapid torrent of literary excellence the likes the minotaur had yet to put in words. The more he peered over the pages, the more engrossed he became. Soon the outside world faded away til there was naught but him, the book and the vague memory of an attic filled with five ill defined figures.
'A way a lone a last a loved a long the-' He thumbed back to the beginning, 'riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.' He closed the book and returned to reality. And with it the the memories that floated forth from the haze of thought. There were six of them here, in the manor, to do a job.
'Guys, you'll never...' Mohdrak finally looked up from the codex he was holding only to see that he was alone. 'Guys?'He asked hesitantly. There was no reply. It was just him, the book and the dust resettling in the attic. A touch of anxiety crawled up the minotaur's spine in the absence of the others. He shuffled around a bit. 'Guys?'
*CLANK*
A sound ringed out in the distance. A sound he knew quite well: the sound of metal striking metal. There was a fight going on and he was here spacing out in a dusty attic. Mohdrak quickly stuffed the book and chain into his backpack and hurried as fast as his hooves could carry, and his frame could fit through all the doors, towards the thrill of battle. He arrived just in time to see Syd bifurcate a sword held aloft by nothing with his own greatsword. The two pieces fell unceremoniously with a dull thud onto the carpet covering the place.
'We're getting attacked by art pieces now?'Mohdrak asked when he entered the parlour room. He felt a tinge of regret at having missed the fight.
Syd, still raging, whirls when the minotaur speaks, nostrils flaring. His wounds appear relatively minor. Not seeing any immediate threats, he turns back to the fire and pokes it with his sword, also passing a hand near the flames to check for heat.
Although the fire appears to be roaring at the moment, it emits no heat. Syd's sword passes through the illusory flames without provoking any response or causing a disturbance in the very realistic image.
Cerlinde says, through pained gasps, “I think I will be OK.. Deep breaths, Syd… in through nose, out through mouth… hold for a count of one, Two, three. You did a great job fighting those weapons. I’m curious to see what they are guarding. Maybe the next room is the master bedroom. It is curious we haven’t found a bedchamber yet. Im hurt, but not so bad I can’t… continue.” She has a bad cut across her chest but it doesn’t look deep, and has stopped bleeding .
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Raising the shield reflexively, Ollezall blocks the blow.
Noticing the amulet, Ollezall breathes "so cool" before refocusing on the sword.
On his next round (2) he will weave the signs for sacred-flame for 1 damage; Dexterity 15 save .
Nevermind. The sword gets a warm glow of sunshine on its blade and probably feels better about its existence as an enchanted blade. It decides after slaughtering us, it WILL enroll in that course it's been thinking about 'You aren't just a weapon for enchantment: How to advocate in your servitude for recognition and better conditions'.
Cerlinde looks at the amulet in wonder, but then refocuses on the threat.
The orc seems to shrug off the sword's attack, his rage pushing him past the pain. He responds with another fierce swing of his blade at the magical menace. (The damaged one if within reach, else the other)
Greatsword Attack: 18 Damage: 16 slashing + 2 rage damage
In his relaxed state, lounging in the chair, perusing some literature, smoking a pipe in his reading jacket, and having stoically fended off the previous attack, Ollezall is barely able to muster the spiritual enthusiasm to both hit AND damage the sword that attacked him.
Saving Throw DEX 14
Syd charges forward to deliver a finishing blow against the badly damaged sword that was menacing Ollezall. As the greatsword makes contact with the flying sword, the flying sword shatters as if it were glass.
The second sword, still having its full measure of vigour, whirls around to turn on Cerlinde. It attempts to match its own enchantments against hers.
Flying Sword 2 - attack vs. Cerlinde: 21, damage (slashing): 6
(Aside from our wayward companions, I think that only Cerlinde needs to take an action in round 2. If things get hairy, I'll bot in Mohdrak and Dyumi.)
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The sword slashes into Cerlinde, but she manages to shoot a firebolt at it 27 to hit
3 damage
Round 3
Having destroyed the first sword, Syd leaps at the second, swinging the sword in a downward arc.
Greatsword Attack: 12 Damage: 13 slashing + 2 rage damage
Feeling a bit safer now the immediate threat to his life is vanquished (and a bit sad the enchanted blade will not be able to attend his personal development course), Ollezall musters strength draws a dart and throws it at the remaining sword.
Dart
Attack roll: 19
Damage: 5
"Huzzah cupcakes!"
(Round 2 Cerlinde, 3 Everyone Else)
Cerlinde will need no planar magic on this attack, as her Fire Bolt easily finds its target. The blade briefly glows as the searing heat of the flame surrounds it.
Syd is unable to keep the streak going as the remaining sword seems to have adapted to his attacking style and manages a nifty evasive maneuver. Perhaps it is powered by <schwarzenegger>"a neural net processor... a learning computer."</schwarzenegger>
Ollezall continues to demonstrate the oft-overlooked, versatile excellence of the dart, along with his prowess with it. His battle cry rings out as the dart buries in the sword's hilt, throwing off its equlibrium.
Drawn by the cry and the new unwanted pointy adornment jammed into it, the flying sword turns on Ollezall and attempts a wobbly attack.
Flying Sword 2 - attack vs. Ollezall: 9, damage (slashing): 6
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Cerlinde blasts another firebolt at the blade
19 to hit
8 damage
Ollezall moves to parry the blow with his shield, knocking the blade away.
If Cerlinde doesn't destroy the blade Ollezall will call forth toll-the-dead for 2 damage or 3 if the target is missing any of its hit points; WIS 15 save.
Cerlinde is really heating up with those Fire Bolts, as her latest effort slams into the sword. The heat softens the blade, but the sword remains aloft and menacing.
Ollezall once again summons the tolling portent of doom, which further rattles the increasingly pitiful sword. It is now aloft, but not very menacing.
Saving Throw WIS 14
The sword rounds again on Ollezall in a desperate charge, duty-bound to protect its master's holdings.
Flying Sword 2 - attack vs. Ollezall: 16, damage (slashing): 4
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Round 4
Syd leaps to the cleric's defense, brandishing his blade, attempting to knock the floating weapon away from his friend.
Greatsword Attack: 22 Damage: 12 slashing + 2 rage damage
The last hit penetrates; searing pain spreading as a gash is opened up. " Aw man, this is gonna stain...."
While the party has all taken some damage from the airborne steel, they emerge victorious yet again. Syd's rage and courage help to vanquish the second sword as his own blade cleaves it in twain. The two pieces, now thoroughly lifeless, clatter to the ground. One lands near Ollezall, who is clutching his wound. The illusory flames in the fireplace seemed to flare up as the final strike was delivered and are now blazing strongly, their light dancing in the eyes of the creatures' heads mounted on the wall.
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"Anyone hurt?" Ollezall will ask. Ollezall nurses a nasty wound (perhaps a leg or something). "Perhaps if nobody is mortally wounded we might be able to rest here a little? I can heal everyone a little bit ( 4 points to share around) and we can assess again after a rest, or I have enough magic for 1 healing, and a healing potion or two; although, I was saving my last bit of magic to complete my healing potion brewing in the kitchen. No matter, if you guys need healing I'm here to help. "
Hey guys, what did I miss... oh...
Mohdrak lifted his head from his flail, slowly blinking away the fog that had glazed his eyes. There was something magical about the book, something that caused his mind to be preoccupied and be focused on just one single thing. The letters on the pages twisted and twirled, smushed and blended together in a rapid torrent of literary excellence the likes the minotaur had yet to put in words. The more he peered over the pages, the more engrossed he became. Soon the outside world faded away til there was naught but him, the book and the vague memory of an attic filled with five ill defined figures.
'A way a lone a last a loved a long the-' He thumbed back to the beginning, 'riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.' He closed the book and returned to reality. And with it the the memories that floated forth from the haze of thought. There were six of them here, in the manor, to do a job.
'Guys, you'll never...' Mohdrak finally looked up from the codex he was holding only to see that he was alone. 'Guys?' He asked hesitantly. There was no reply. It was just him, the book and the dust resettling in the attic. A touch of anxiety crawled up the minotaur's spine in the absence of the others. He shuffled around a bit. 'Guys?'
*CLANK*
A sound ringed out in the distance. A sound he knew quite well: the sound of metal striking metal. There was a fight going on and he was here spacing out in a dusty attic. Mohdrak quickly stuffed the book and chain into his backpack and hurried as fast as his hooves could carry, and his frame could fit through all the doors, towards the thrill of battle. He arrived just in time to see Syd bifurcate a sword held aloft by nothing with his own greatsword. The two pieces fell unceremoniously with a dull thud onto the carpet covering the place.
'We're getting attacked by art pieces now?' Mohdrak asked when he entered the parlour room. He felt a tinge of regret at having missed the fight.
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"ahh not so ceremonial swords as it turns out" Ollezall says, gesturing to his wound. " I regret fighting them from the couch, that's for sure...."
Syd, still raging, whirls when the minotaur speaks, nostrils flaring. His wounds appear relatively minor. Not seeing any immediate threats, he turns back to the fire and pokes it with his sword, also passing a hand near the flames to check for heat.
Although the fire appears to be roaring at the moment, it emits no heat. Syd's sword passes through the illusory flames without provoking any response or causing a disturbance in the very realistic image.
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Come join the Worlds of Pphost, a new and growing PbP community! Adventures are currently running in the world of Haven or do some role-playing!
It never hurts to help! ---- PbP: [Rolling Dice] [Tooltips] ---- DDB Content: [Free Adventures] [Encounter of the Week]
Cerlinde says, through pained gasps, “I think I will be OK.. Deep breaths, Syd… in through nose, out through mouth… hold for a count of one, Two, three. You did a great job fighting those weapons. I’m curious to see what they are guarding. Maybe the next room is the master bedroom. It is curious we haven’t found a bedchamber yet. Im hurt, but not so bad I can’t… continue.” She has a bad cut across her chest but it doesn’t look deep, and has stopped bleeding .