Sparhawk attacks twice, trying to do what he can to harm the strange creature:
Sparhawk weaves his blade expertly, clearly the longsword, his blade of choice, but finding it somewhat difficult to hit this strange thing. To hit: 18 (Precision attack), damage: 9 slashing
Tenebril yells to the others as best he can, "I didn't get cut but I can still feel it when you hurt it. Any of you think you can help pull this thing off of me? There's no way I'm making it out of this thing's hold on my own with taking more damage along with it."
Kos will stand back but also cast Magic Missile with each missile doing 3 force damage.
"Kill it before it smothers him!"
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"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
<Kos is still outside, so it's iffy as to whether or not he can see the target. I'll allow it, but still make the save agaisnt frightened feom the moan a while back.>
The world is dark and hot and wrong. The leathery folds crush in from every side, flexing and grinding, the air thick with the reek of damp hide and old blood. You can’t tell which way is up—only the constant pressure and the rasp of serrated teeth grazing your skin through your armor. Your wings are pinned, useless. Every breath feels stolen. Then the pressure changes—abrupt, violent. The creature jerks, its folds twisting, stretching away as if something’s prying it open. Light—blinding, brilliant—spills in through a widening seam. A massive hand crashes through the gap, fingers hooking the edge of the thing holding you. You’re wrenched sideways, the world spinning as the constriction tears loose with a sickening rip. Cool air hits your face. You tumble free, momentum carrying you into the waiting grasp of Sparhawk. His chest heaves, his grip fierce. Behind him, the thing thrashes—no longer clinging to you, but still alive, still searching. Your wings flutter once, almost instinctively, tasting the open air again. The cave is still dangerous, but for this breath, for this moment—you are free..
Sparhawk tears the thrashing mass away in a single, desperate wrench—leathery folds ripping free, the fairy spilling into his arms as the creature recoils with a guttural hiss.
Tenebril gasps for air as soon as the cool air hits his face. He had been on the verge passing out or was afraid that he'd expire before the creature did with all the attacks hitting them both.
With that searing thought still in his head, he turns as quickly as he can and blasts the creature away from the group. (28,29,26 for the attack rolls, and 12 damage each for 36 total) Repelling blast to force it as far away as he can, if possible.
(ooc: what was the save from the frightening moan I had to make?)
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"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
As the fairy regains his sight and finds his caorie fluttering in the darkness anong its oeers, he takes aim and unleases a barrage of magical attacks. The eldritch beams pierce the bistre veil, disintegrating it on contact.
The next blast vaporizes another flying fanged creature, leaving rhe last bolt to hit the final target, hurling the bleeding creature ten feet away.
It falls to the ground and ceases to move, laying percecrly flat.
<I realize i keep describing the colors of things, but im not acrually sure anyone in the room has any light, so probably everything is just grey. That would make it easier to hide. If im wrong, just let me know and you can see it just fine>
Tenebril takes a moment to catch his breath fully and then slightly chuckles and says, "Let's not do that again. Capes should definitely be worn on the back and not around the head..."
(Are we out of combat for now? Can Tenebril do a Perc check to see if we can see anything more worth grabbing now that those living cape things are gone?)
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Sparhawk attacks twice, trying to do what he can to harm the strange creature:
Sparhawk weaves his blade expertly, clearly the longsword, his blade of choice, but finding it somewhat difficult to hit this strange thing.
To hit: 18 (Precision attack), damage: 9 slashing
To hit: 11).
Tbe creature flaps about as the pain soaks theough it, into the fairy (each takes 4 damage)
Tenebril yells to the others as best he can, "I didn't get cut but I can still feel it when you hurt it. Any of you think you can help pull this thing off of me? There's no way I'm making it out of this thing's hold on my own with taking more damage along with it."
"I can try" Sparhawk yells to Tenebril, (But if someone can get to him first since Sparhawk acted!)
"If you fail to get it off me, please make sure to stand clear, I don't want anyone caught in the effects."
Kos will stand back but also cast Magic Missile with each missile doing 3 force damage.
"Kill it before it smothers him!"
<Kos is still outside, so it's iffy as to whether or not he can see the target. I'll allow it, but still make the save agaisnt frightened feom the moan a while back.>
5
Tenebril and the cloak are bombarded with magic missiles. Each takes 4 force damage.
<I think Tenebril is up. Gharzun, too but maybe still on vacation. Any other players also, but they've gone dark, likely ghosted.>
Sparhawk will grab the creature and try to free Tebebril (strength check: 15 or help action for tenebril +4 save for aura)
Tenebril:
The world is dark and hot and wrong.
The leathery folds crush in from every side, flexing and grinding, the air thick with the reek of damp hide and old blood. You can’t tell which way is up—only the constant pressure and the rasp of serrated teeth grazing your skin through your armor. Your wings are pinned, useless. Every breath feels stolen.
Then the pressure changes—abrupt, violent. The creature jerks, its folds twisting, stretching away as if something’s prying it open. Light—blinding, brilliant—spills in through a widening seam.
A massive hand crashes through the gap, fingers hooking the edge of the thing holding you. You’re wrenched sideways, the world spinning as the constriction tears loose with a sickening rip. Cool air hits your face. You tumble free, momentum carrying you into the waiting grasp of Sparhawk. His chest heaves, his grip fierce. Behind him, the thing thrashes—no longer clinging to you, but still alive, still searching. Your wings flutter once, almost instinctively, tasting the open air again. The cave is still dangerous, but for this breath, for this moment—you are free..
Sparhawk tears the thrashing mass away in a single, desperate wrench—leathery folds ripping free, the fairy spilling into his arms as the creature recoils with a guttural hiss.
Tenebril gasps for air as soon as the cool air hits his face. He had been on the verge passing out or was afraid that he'd expire before the creature did with all the attacks hitting them both.
With that searing thought still in his head, he turns as quickly as he can and blasts the creature away from the group. (28,29,26 for the attack rolls, and 12 damage each for 36 total) Repelling blast to force it as far away as he can, if possible.
(ooc: what was the save from the frightening moan I had to make?)
(Wis save , I can't remember if he said what you needed to roll to pass)
10
As the fairy regains his sight and finds his caorie fluttering in the darkness anong its oeers, he takes aim and unleases a barrage of magical attacks. The eldritch beams pierce the bistre veil, disintegrating it on contact.
<I'll assume he switches targets between attacks>
Dice rolls not yet available for this section.
The next blast vaporizes another flying fanged creature, leaving rhe last bolt to hit the final target, hurling the bleeding creature ten feet away.
It falls to the ground and ceases to move, laying percecrly flat.
<I realize i keep describing the colors of things, but im not acrually sure anyone in the room has any light, so probably everything is just grey. That would make it easier to hide. If im wrong, just let me know and you can see it just fine>
Stealth
17
(Yes please)
Tenebril takes a moment to catch his breath fully and then slightly chuckles and says, "Let's not do that again. Capes should definitely be worn on the back and not around the head..."
(Are we out of combat for now? Can Tenebril do a Perc check to see if we can see anything more worth grabbing now that those living cape things are gone?)