This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
TROLL The troll roared as it regenerated a bit of it's life force and then went into a frenzy at Durnan:
Multi-attack (Bite): 25 vs. AC 16 (DURNAN); dealing 7 piercing damage on a hit. Multi-attack (Claws): 22 vs. AC 16 (DURNAN); dealing 12 slashing damage on a hit. Multi-attack (Claws): 16 vs. AC 16 (DURNAN); dealing 14 slashing damage on a hit.
STIRGE 2 The last remaining stirge dives down at the escaping gangster (#2):
Attack (Blood Drain): 20 vs. AC 11 (GANGSTER 2); dealing 7 piercing damage on a hit and the stirge attaches to the target draining an additional 1d4+3 HP each round.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Devol "bursting with glee" translated to a bit of a smirk on her lips. "Not our fight buy more interesting than anything else I've bothered with this week..." She nocked another arrow, shifted to get a bitter shot, and loosed at the last stirge as it fed on the gangster
Longbow attack on STIRGE 2: 19; 9 Piercing on hit.
Devol's arrow found it's mark with ease, blasting through the stirge like a hot knife through butter...the problem was that the stirge just happened to be attached to the head of one of the fleeing gangsters at the time. The arrow whistled slightly as it streaked across the room and hit with a sickening and resoundingly final 'thunk', as if it had struck a slightly under-ripe pumpkin.
The gangster spilled forward onto his face and slid to a stop as the momentum of his escape carried him a few feet further towards the door. With the man lying face down, Devol could see the fletchings of her arrow sticking straight up...but not nearly high enough up to indicate that the missile hadn't pierced the skull nearly clean through.
A few of the nearby tavern-goers gasped in horror at the sight of the head-shot, but from the shadowy doorway of the nearby private dining room, the silhouette of the drow with the large, feather-plumed hat leaned in to whisper something to one of his associates, who then seemed to return a nod of acknowledgement...
Being freed up from foes, Terrlynn sets her eyes on the Troll. She climbs onto the table and tries to jump and place a heavy kick to the Trolls torso trying to knock it off balance and over the edge of the well.
Move: trying to get to troll. Acrobatics check requested 13
Attack: 11 Damage: 7
If it's a hit, use pushing attack maneuver and do 7 extra damage and it's need DC 14 str save or be pushed back 15 ft.
If acrobatics fail and I can burn my second wind for another action for moving, I will.
The earth genasi leaps up on the table and lands a massive thrust kick to the troll's chest, breaking it's sternum fully in half...the sound was like a large pine tree being bent over at the trunk to the point of internal failure. Putrid air burst out of both sides of the monster's ribcage as it's torso ruptured under the force of Terrlynn's heel. The troll then fell limply into the darkness; a little over two seconds later, it slammed into the firmament on the upper level of the infamous Undermountain dungeon below, sending the echo of wet flesh impacting stone at terminal velocity reverberating back up the well shaft.
The sickening sound left no less than three patrons of The Yawning Portal heaving the contents of their stomachs back into their ale flagons (or as closely as they could aim...)
Cyrano tugs insistently at Devol. "Can we go now? This is drawing way to much attention for my liking."The svirfneblin glances around nervously. "And to much attention can be bad for business."
Durnan nods his head slowly in silent approval of Terrlynn's martial artistry and then tosses three more terracotta flasks of oil into the well shaft. He then directs his gaze at the stunned gangster near the edge of the pit and gives the man a different kind of nod, one that seemed to indicate a direction of "go ahead." The Xanatharian drops the glowing torch into the well shaft, wipes his eyes a few times and turns around to head for the door.
TERRLYNN Durnan replaces a few wayward chairs that had spilled over during the scrum, as he makes his way over to Terrlynn and then turns to address the crowd: "What say ye lords and ladies, should we let our genasi friend here drink for free tonight?" A thunderous cheer goes up in approval and Durnun looks back at her. "Don't believe I've seen you in here before...I'm Durnan, and this is my place. What's your name, troll-slayer?"
CYRANO Cyrano looked nervously back over towards the group of drow that had started to disperse, and he anxiously hounded Devol to get out of there. He lost sight of the dark elves when the crowd cheered and began to press in on the would-be heroes. His gaze flicked back and forth, trying to re-acquire them and then he hears what he hoped he wouldn't: the silky-smooth yet sinister tone of the drow tongue, flecked with notes of Undercommon. He turned and saw one of the dark elves standing right next to him.
DEVOL "A fine shot," said the drow to Devol, "three in fact...on behalf of Lord Jarlaxyl, Bregan D'aerthe would like to invite you and your, uh, 'friend' here to join us at our table."As the drow spoke the word 'friend' he reached down and stroked Cyrano's balding scalp with long, slender fingers tipped with black fingernails as sharp as needles.
LEBRON The blue-skinned elf stood up and dusted himself off as a short male human in scholar's robes pushed through the crowd and approached him. "Well done, well done indeed! You four really know how to pull a plan together! Volothamp Geddarm," said the man, shoving a hand out for Lebron to shake, whether he wanted to or not. "You know, I could use some help from folks like you, if you're interested in some coin...and some adventure. Pull up a chair, let's have a conversation!"
DEAD GANGSTER The bard leading the band placed his boot onto the dead gangster's head and reached down to pry loose the arrow lodged in the corpse's skull. He then into his vest and drew out a wand which he then waved over the body of the dead man. The tip of the wand began to glow deep red and then a mote of energy shot forth and flitted around like a firefly before diving into the man's wound. The gangster began to stir as life slowly crept back in.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Cyrano can't stop the shudder that rolls through his body as the dark elf touches his head. Every fiber of his being wants to flee but the former drow slave knows it would only make things worse. Then he hears Geddarms offer. Before Devol can reply to the drow Cyrano steps past as he tucks at Devol. To the drow he says, "Well as much as we'd like to, we have a business meeting to attend. I'm sure Lord Jarlaxyl understands the importance of matters like this. Please pass on our sincerest apologies and our deep appreciation for the invite. It is an honor indeed." Clutching tighter onto Devol, Cyrano steps towards Lebron and Geddarm. "Come on Devol let's not keep our new client waiting." Cyrano tries to keep the waver of fear out of his voice but it cracks a bit anyway.
Devol frowns a bit at the drow as she stashes her bow. "Yeah... Yeah, wasn't really goin' for that third..." She looks over in the direction of the bard and the apparently no longer dead gangster, and raises her voice a bit. "Hey, uh... Sorry about that. Your head got in the way." She grimaces down at Cyrano, then shrugs and turns her attention back to the drow. "Well I could use another beer, but apparently we have a job lined up. Maybe another time. Let's go,Cyrano."She puts a bit more emphasis on the gnome's name, as if to say If you're so creeped out, don't use my damn name.
Cyrano turns his head to look at Devol, a slightly twisted sheepish grin of apology flashes on his face before he steps between the drow, Devol and LeBron to greet Volothamp. "Well hello Master Geddarm. Yes of course let's talk business." Cyrano reaches up and grasps the mans hand, shaking it vigorously as he direct the group back to Volothamps table.
"Another time then," says the drow with a cocked smile as Cyrano and Devol withdraw towards Lebron and Volo. He watches the two for an awkward moment then turns to rejoin his own party in the private dining room at the northern end of the tavern.
Volo motions the group towards a booth at the far end of the room and slides into one of the benches. He strokes his mustache, adjusts his floppy, scholar's hat, and tightens his scarf. “Volothamp Geddarm, chronicler, wizard, and celebrity, at your service. I trust you’ve noted the violence in our fair city these past tendays. I haven’t seen so much blood since my last visit to Baldur’s Gate! But now I fear I have misplaced a friend amid this odious malevolence. His name is Floon Blagmaar. He’s got more beauty than brains, and I worry he took a bad way home a couple nights ago and was kidnapped — or worse. I need someone to track him down with all due haste. I can offer each of you ten dragons apiece now, and I can give you all ten times that when you find Floon. May I prevail upon you in my hour of need? I'm sure you'd have no trouble finding him, especially if you, uh, maybe enlist the help of that very-capable earth genasi warrior over there speaking with Durnan. She was most impressive!"
Terrlynn turns to face Durnan and brushes some stray locks of her her crystallin hair back into to, a slight slight clinking tones as she does so. She smiles up at Durnan and holds out a hand with some bloody knuckles. Noticing, she wipes them on her coat and re-presents her hand. "Terrlynn, names Terrlynn and a few drinks on the house sound lovely." She releases his hand (if he ever shook it). "Just got to town and told this was most exciting place and exciting it is."
Durnan motions over to the barmaid to serve up several flagons of the house's best ale. "Well met," he says to Terrlynn noting the impressive strength of her grip. "Not sure if you are allied with those other three that helped Yagra deal with those Xanatharians before the troll showed up, but that blue-skinned elf is always getting into something. His name is Lebron and it looks like Volo has cornered him, the tiefling and her svirfneblin partner in one of those booths over there. No doubt he is hooking them into some kind of plot that he can turn into his next novel. Why don't you go see what they're up to, hmm? I'll send Bonnie over with your drinks."
Devol crosses her arms, frowning a bit a Volo. "I'm guessing you'd like him... Intact? Sorry, most of he time if I'm asked to hunt someone down the words 'Dead or Alive' get mentioned at some point." She glances over at the genasi. "Yeah, Troll-Kicker might be handy." After a moment, she seems to remember her courtesies. "Uh. I'm Devol."
"Woah-woah, let's just hold up a minute 'ere, why don't we uh ?" Lebron said, palms raised at Volo's enthusiasm. The blue-skinned half-elf had a dubious smirk etched on his face and somewhat of a mistrustful tone - or at least a careful one.
"First thing: who be dat friend of yours exactly, ey ? You sayin' he gets in trouble, is that what he be doin', usual-like ? If so, what sorta trouble ? You saw them Xan-boys, they get pretty connected 'round 'ere, and we be fools to mess with 'em gangs without knowing what's what: who says they didn't grab your boy, after all mmh ? If that be so, best we make sure who we make friends - and enemies - with, 'fore we start playing rescuers and all that jive. Second... where he lived and were he was seen last seems like a fair place to start, or ?"
He looked around the rest of the group now assembled around the table and added quickly, shrugging: "I ain't sayin' I ain't gonna do it, y'all... monies are monies after all. Just tryin' to stay out of 'em gangs' way, first and foremost, see what I'm sayin' ? Name's Rhoose, by the way. Well, actually... Lebron's the name, smugglin's the game. Pleasure."
Then as he turned aside towards Devol he muttered, with a fake hurt look: "Yo, lady ! You throw like hell, by the way, you know that ?"
' Rogues Will Be Rogues ' (Circle of Fives Admission Rules, § 6 par. IV) " Put It Down. Now. Or Be Sorry. " (D. Khar-Errendis' Reported Tips For Curing Soul Ailments And Assorted Bad Behaviours, v. LIV p.XIII) " Tween thisThy and yonThou, shall I prove to Thee that these art what thou dost see ? " (Grimoire of The Great Pananthyr) " This One has said enough. Now, we fight. This way please ?" (8th Grade Bronze Disciple Raulnar Drohjo, Way of the Open Palm)
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TROLL
The troll roared as it regenerated a bit of it's life force and then went into a frenzy at Durnan:
Multi-attack (Bite): 25 vs. AC 16 (DURNAN); dealing 7 piercing damage on a hit.
Multi-attack (Claws): 22 vs. AC 16 (DURNAN); dealing 12 slashing damage on a hit.
Multi-attack (Claws): 16 vs. AC 16 (DURNAN); dealing 14 slashing damage on a hit.
(OOC: the troll regains 10 HP.)
ORC
The male orc retreats to the south and then turns back towards the troll, holding up his axe defensively.
Movement: 30 feet southwest
Action: (Dodge)
STIRGE 2
The last remaining stirge dives down at the escaping gangster (#2):
Attack (Blood Drain): 20 vs. AC 11 (GANGSTER 2); dealing 7 piercing damage on a hit and the stirge attaches to the target draining an additional 1d4+3 HP each round.
Devol "bursting with glee" translated to a bit of a smirk on her lips. "Not our fight buy more interesting than anything else I've bothered with this week..." She nocked another arrow, shifted to get a bitter shot, and loosed at the last stirge as it fed on the gangster
Longbow attack on STIRGE 2: 19; 9 Piercing on hit.
Devol's arrow found it's mark with ease, blasting through the stirge like a hot knife through butter...the problem was that the stirge just happened to be attached to the head of one of the fleeing gangsters at the time. The arrow whistled slightly as it streaked across the room and hit with a sickening and resoundingly final 'thunk', as if it had struck a slightly under-ripe pumpkin.
The gangster spilled forward onto his face and slid to a stop as the momentum of his escape carried him a few feet further towards the door. With the man lying face down, Devol could see the fletchings of her arrow sticking straight up...but not nearly high enough up to indicate that the missile hadn't pierced the skull nearly clean through.
A few of the nearby tavern-goers gasped in horror at the sight of the head-shot, but from the shadowy doorway of the nearby private dining room, the silhouette of the drow with the large, feather-plumed hat leaned in to whisper something to one of his associates, who then seemed to return a nod of acknowledgement...
Being freed up from foes, Terrlynn sets her eyes on the Troll. She climbs onto the table and tries to jump and place a heavy kick to the Trolls torso trying to knock it off balance and over the edge of the well.
Move: trying to get to troll. Acrobatics check requested 13
Attack: 11 Damage: 7
If it's a hit, use pushing attack maneuver and do 7 extra damage and it's need DC 14 str save or be pushed back 15 ft.
If acrobatics fail and I can burn my second wind for another action for moving, I will.
TROLL
Strength (Save): 12 vs. DC 14 (Terrlynn); taking and extra 7 damage and is pushed back 15 feet on a failed save
The earth genasi leaps up on the table and lands a massive thrust kick to the troll's chest, breaking it's sternum fully in half...the sound was like a large pine tree being bent over at the trunk to the point of internal failure. Putrid air burst out of both sides of the monster's ribcage as it's torso ruptured under the force of Terrlynn's heel. The troll then fell limply into the darkness; a little over two seconds later, it slammed into the firmament on the upper level of the infamous Undermountain dungeon below, sending the echo of wet flesh impacting stone at terminal velocity reverberating back up the well shaft.
The sickening sound left no less than three patrons of The Yawning Portal heaving the contents of their stomachs back into their ale flagons (or as closely as they could aim...)
(END OF INIIATIVE)
Cyrano tugs insistently at Devol. "Can we go now? This is drawing way to much attention for my liking." The svirfneblin glances around nervously. "And to much attention can be bad for business."
**This Space for Rent**
Durnan nods his head slowly in silent approval of Terrlynn's martial artistry and then tosses three more terracotta flasks of oil into the well shaft. He then directs his gaze at the stunned gangster near the edge of the pit and gives the man a different kind of nod, one that seemed to indicate a direction of "go ahead." The Xanatharian drops the glowing torch into the well shaft, wipes his eyes a few times and turns around to head for the door.
With everyone seemingly marveling at the Genesi's actions, Cyrano tries again to get Devol to leave.
"See it's over, let's get out of here. We've already garnered too much attention."
**This Space for Rent**
TERRLYNN
Durnan replaces a few wayward chairs that had spilled over during the scrum, as he makes his way over to Terrlynn and then turns to address the crowd: "What say ye lords and ladies, should we let our genasi friend here drink for free tonight?" A thunderous cheer goes up in approval and Durnun looks back at her. "Don't believe I've seen you in here before...I'm Durnan, and this is my place. What's your name, troll-slayer?"
CYRANO
Cyrano looked nervously back over towards the group of drow that had started to disperse, and he anxiously hounded Devol to get out of there. He lost sight of the dark elves when the crowd cheered and began to press in on the would-be heroes. His gaze flicked back and forth, trying to re-acquire them and then he hears what he hoped he wouldn't: the silky-smooth yet sinister tone of the drow tongue, flecked with notes of Undercommon. He turned and saw one of the dark elves standing right next to him.
DEVOL
"A fine shot," said the drow to Devol, "three in fact...on behalf of Lord Jarlaxyl, Bregan D'aerthe would like to invite you and your, uh, 'friend' here to join us at our table." As the drow spoke the word 'friend' he reached down and stroked Cyrano's balding scalp with long, slender fingers tipped with black fingernails as sharp as needles.
LEBRON
The blue-skinned elf stood up and dusted himself off as a short male human in scholar's robes pushed through the crowd and approached him. "Well done, well done indeed! You four really know how to pull a plan together! Volothamp Geddarm," said the man, shoving a hand out for Lebron to shake, whether he wanted to or not. "You know, I could use some help from folks like you, if you're interested in some coin...and some adventure. Pull up a chair, let's have a conversation!"
DEAD GANGSTER
The bard leading the band placed his boot onto the dead gangster's head and reached down to pry loose the arrow lodged in the corpse's skull. He then into his vest and drew out a wand which he then waved over the body of the dead man. The tip of the wand began to glow deep red and then a mote of energy shot forth and flitted around like a firefly before diving into the man's wound. The gangster began to stir as life slowly crept back in.
Cyrano can't stop the shudder that rolls through his body as the dark elf touches his head. Every fiber of his being wants to flee but the former drow slave knows it would only make things worse. Then he hears Geddarms offer. Before Devol can reply to the drow Cyrano steps past as he tucks at Devol. To the drow he says, "Well as much as we'd like to, we have a business meeting to attend. I'm sure Lord Jarlaxyl understands the importance of matters like this. Please pass on our sincerest apologies and our deep appreciation for the invite. It is an honor indeed." Clutching tighter onto Devol, Cyrano steps towards Lebron and Geddarm. "Come on Devol let's not keep our new client waiting." Cyrano tries to keep the waver of fear out of his voice but it cracks a bit anyway.
Persuasion: 13
**This Space for Rent**
Devol frowns a bit at the drow as she stashes her bow. "Yeah... Yeah, wasn't really goin' for that third..." She looks over in the direction of the bard and the apparently no longer dead gangster, and raises her voice a bit. "Hey, uh... Sorry about that. Your head got in the way." She grimaces down at Cyrano, then shrugs and turns her attention back to the drow. "Well I could use another beer, but apparently we have a job lined up. Maybe another time. Let's go, Cyrano." She puts a bit more emphasis on the gnome's name, as if to say If you're so creeped out, don't use my damn name.
Cyrano turns his head to look at Devol, a slightly twisted sheepish grin of apology flashes on his face before he steps between the drow, Devol and LeBron to greet Volothamp. "Well hello Master Geddarm. Yes of course let's talk business." Cyrano reaches up and grasps the mans hand, shaking it vigorously as he direct the group back to Volothamps table.
**This Space for Rent**
"Another time then," says the drow with a cocked smile as Cyrano and Devol withdraw towards Lebron and Volo. He watches the two for an awkward moment then turns to rejoin his own party in the private dining room at the northern end of the tavern.
Volo motions the group towards a booth at the far end of the room and slides into one of the benches. He strokes his mustache, adjusts his floppy, scholar's hat, and tightens his scarf. “Volothamp Geddarm, chronicler, wizard, and celebrity, at your service. I trust you’ve noted the violence in our fair city these past tendays. I haven’t seen so much blood since my last visit to Baldur’s Gate! But now I fear I have misplaced a friend amid this odious malevolence. His name is Floon Blagmaar. He’s got more beauty than brains, and I worry he took a bad way home a couple nights ago and was kidnapped — or worse. I need someone to track him down with all due haste. I can offer each of you ten dragons apiece now, and I can give you all ten times that when you find Floon. May I prevail upon you in my hour of need? I'm sure you'd have no trouble finding him, especially if you, uh, maybe enlist the help of that very-capable earth genasi warrior over there speaking with Durnan. She was most impressive!"
Terrlynn turns to face Durnan and brushes some stray locks of her her crystallin hair back into to, a slight slight clinking tones as she does so. She smiles up at Durnan and holds out a hand with some bloody knuckles. Noticing, she wipes them on her coat and re-presents her hand. "Terrlynn, names Terrlynn and a few drinks on the house sound lovely." She releases his hand (if he ever shook it). "Just got to town and told this was most exciting place and exciting it is."
Durnan motions over to the barmaid to serve up several flagons of the house's best ale. "Well met," he says to Terrlynn noting the impressive strength of her grip. "Not sure if you are allied with those other three that helped Yagra deal with those Xanatharians before the troll showed up, but that blue-skinned elf is always getting into something. His name is Lebron and it looks like Volo has cornered him, the tiefling and her svirfneblin partner in one of those booths over there. No doubt he is hooking them into some kind of plot that he can turn into his next novel. Why don't you go see what they're up to, hmm? I'll send Bonnie over with your drinks."
Devol crosses her arms, frowning a bit a Volo. "I'm guessing you'd like him... Intact? Sorry, most of he time if I'm asked to hunt someone down the words 'Dead or Alive' get mentioned at some point." She glances over at the genasi. "Yeah, Troll-Kicker might be handy." After a moment, she seems to remember her courtesies. "Uh. I'm Devol."
"Woah-woah, let's just hold up a minute 'ere, why don't we uh ?" Lebron said, palms raised at Volo's enthusiasm. The blue-skinned half-elf had a dubious smirk etched on his face and somewhat of a mistrustful tone - or at least a careful one.
"First thing: who be dat friend of yours exactly, ey ? You sayin' he gets in trouble, is that what he be doin', usual-like ? If so, what sorta trouble ? You saw them Xan-boys, they get pretty connected 'round 'ere, and we be fools to mess with 'em gangs without knowing what's what: who says they didn't grab your boy, after all mmh ? If that be so, best we make sure who we make friends - and enemies - with, 'fore we start playing rescuers and all that jive. Second... where he lived and were he was seen last seems like a fair place to start, or ?"
He looked around the rest of the group now assembled around the table and added quickly, shrugging: "I ain't sayin' I ain't gonna do it, y'all... monies are monies after all. Just tryin' to stay out of 'em gangs' way, first and foremost, see what I'm sayin' ? Name's Rhoose, by the way. Well, actually... Lebron's the name, smugglin's the game. Pleasure."
Then as he turned aside towards Devol he muttered, with a fake hurt look: "Yo, lady ! You throw like hell, by the way, you know that ?"
' Rogues Will Be Rogues ' (Circle of Fives Admission Rules, § 6 par. IV)
" Put It Down. Now. Or Be Sorry. " (D. Khar-Errendis' Reported Tips For Curing Soul Ailments And Assorted Bad Behaviours, v. LIV p.XIII)
" Tween thisThy and yonThou, shall I prove to Thee that these art what thou dost see ? " (Grimoire of The Great Pananthyr)
" This One has said enough. Now, we fight. This way please ?" (8th Grade Bronze Disciple Raulnar Drohjo, Way of the Open Palm)