"Lyra, Zephyros, Gareth, Meira. A pleasure to make your acquaintances."Alisande bobs her head politely in turn to each of the strangers as Sister Garaele facilitates the largely pleasant, if chaotic introductions. She quirks a brow at the abrupt volte-face in Meira's manner. It wasn't the first time Alisande's penchant for an admittedly grandiloquent turn of phrase had rubbed someone the wrong way, but she let it pass unacknowledged - particularly given the gathering unease on the faces of those clustered closer to the cell.
However as Eldrin addresses her, she turns to face the elf, laughing in surprise. "If I could lay my hands on a treatise as fabled as The Annals of Karsus, I would count myself the wealthiest woman in the world! Alas, the world compels me to make do with A Myth Drannan Amphigory. A fine history in its own right, but with the greatest respect to the Sage, is rather like ordering champagne, and be asked to make do with pigswill."
She adds to Zephyros, "Bogin and Finlie made mention of your heroic exploits and the dire condition of Mr Raskin. If I can be of service, please, say the word." When Don Jon's shouts increase in urgency, all conversation on her part is cut short - her hand alights on the loop on her hip, plucking the elder wood wand free.
The young purple-robed dark-haired man with the sinister-looking scar looks between those present as the introduce each other in turn with the annoying commotion in the background. He raises an eyebrow as the young red-haired lady mentions his interest in business. She was arguably correct in her assessment but he wouldn't quite phrase it like that himself before going into business with strangers. There is a hint of pleasant surprise though as he is introduced as her companion although they only met hours ago, but he could certainly have use for allies like her if he would ever be able to achieve his goals.
"Rasziel Moorcroft at your service..." He says with a polite bow before the others leave for the banging and shouting. "...and while my esteemed companion might have slightly exaggerated my voracious appetite, I do plead guilty to being a businessman. That being said I'm sure we will find mutual business beneficial to everyone." He continues with a small polite smile before following the others to the commotion.
Coming up to the door with the incessant banging, the young purple-robed dark-haired man with the sinister-looking scar looks to the apparent adventurers. "Have you considered the possibility that he has already transformed and might try to decieve you?" He asks quietly before turning his attention to the door. "Help is here but we need to be sure that you have not yet succumbed to the lycanthropy. Have you seen any signs yet?" He asks loud enough for the man on the other side of the door to hear.
Insight: Dice rolls not yet available for this section.
Lyrasmiles widely at Sister Garaele. "Oh yes, he should definitely laugh a bit more! Why, that's one of the reasons I joked around back there...but I don't think I managed to get the message through, I'm afraid!"
She gives Allisandea nod and a smile, then turns to Rasziel. "Of course we've considered that possibility!"
Scary guy! With that sinister look… and that cough? Is he sick? Well—not the time to be thinking about that, Lyra. Nor about that broom sticking out of Alisande's backpack. Is she really so fond of cleaning that she carries a broom around? Ugh! Stop it, Lyra. Focus.
"But that's precisely why we're here. We want to—no, we are going to help him, whether he's transformed already or not. It's not as though he inherited the curse from his parents, which would make it far harder to deal with. Don Juan ... I mean ... Don-Jon was simply bitten by one of the wererats that were lurking in the mine a few days ago. All he needs is someone who can heal him. And, thank Tymora, Sister Garaele will be able to."
She turns to the elf with a bright smile. "Please, Sister, tell me if I can assist. I can't call on our goddess's magic the way you can, but I'll help however I can!"
Finally, she glances toward Zephyros, still holding the door. Echoing Meira, she adds, "Yes—we should let him out! Otherwise Sister Garaele won't be able to end the curse at all!"
"Don-Jon, calm down! We're working on letting you out now!"Zephyros yells through the door, putting his weight against the entrance.
Athletics: 15
Ironheartlistens to Lyra as she suggest he open the door. "Very well Ms. Lyra. Please step back." He breaks the door off of the hinges and sets it to the side. He then makes sure he interposes himself between Don-Jon and everyone else.
As the bearded warrior is about to release the infected man, the young purple-robed dark-haired man with the sinister-looking scar quickly steps back from the door. He doesn't consider himself brave but for some reason he still tries to take a protective position in front of the women present, purple eldritch energies instinctively forming in his hand. The brief tense silence before the door is opened is broken by another series of coughs, but not enough to take the purple-robed man's attention from the door.
Eldrin gives the slightest hint of a smile. His eyes soften ever so little, but it's hard to notice in the dim mine. He nods at your response before turning his attention back to current events.
Meira,
Eldrin meets your gaze and nods his head to signify he understands and has agreed. He stands prepared with his hands at the ready in front of him.
Don-Jon responds to you all as you tell him you're here to help him and need him to calm down, "DON"T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! OPEN THIS DOOR NOW! OH GOD... OH NO... IT'S HERE! HEEELLLPPPPPP! LET ME OUT!"
Rasziel,
Don-Jon ignores your question as he responds to you, "LET ME OUT OF HERE! PLEASE! AHHHOOUUWW!"
You don't sense any deception from the cowboy, but you do recognize the man's strong desire to be released from his prison cell/office. He's terrified.
Lyra,
Sister Garaele says to you, "Yes, please pray for guidance as I ask Tymora for Her divine intervention. We need all the guidance we can get."
Zephyros,
The door breaks off of the hinges at Don Jon's continued assault, but you hold it firmly in place for the moment.
Everyone,
The banging on the door abruptly stops and you all hear what sounds like some kind of scuffle from behind the door. Don Jon continues his blood curdling scream and cry for help, "AHHHHHHH... NOOOO... HEEEELLLLPPPP!"
Zephyros lifts the door off it's frame and sets it to the side. Immediately, you all see Don Jon with his back to you. Towering above him, a giant carrion crawler attacking the cowboy. Don Jon has his hands holding the monstrosities mandibles that keep getting closer and closer with each snap shut and reopen. It's tendrils wrapping around the cowboy pulling him closer and closer.
Lyrascreams at the sight before them. Almost without thinking, she thrusts her small hand toward the monstrosity and cries out, "Let Don Juan go, you ugly thing!!" She doesn't even realize she's calling the cowboy by the nickname she gave him back when she didn't like him at all. All she can think of now is the promise they made to help him, and no carrion crawler is going to take that away!
Whether because Sister Garaele's presence strengthens her, or because Tymorawills it in her own chaotic way, the spell lands with unusual force. The beast begins to glow, making it easier for the next blow to strike true.
The halfling then scurries back a little to give the others room to strike. Being so much smaller than the rest, she can slip between them with ease if she needs to move again.
Action:Guiding Bolt (level 1) to hit 21 / Damage: 21 (almost max damage, nice!) and the next attack (Meira's, I assume) on the creature can be made at advantage.
Meiragrabs her bow and fires at the Carrion Crawler, now easier to hit with the glow Lyraimparted. (Shortbow Attack: 21, Damage: 7 piercing + 11 sneak attack)
After that shot, she makes a feint at another, trying to get the creature to protect itself to the right. But she calls out to Zephyros, "There's an opening to the left with that thing pulling..." There's the briefest of pauses as she then says, "Don Juan," giving a playful wink to Lyra. (Bonus Action - Master of Tactics: gives HELP to Zephyroson his next attack)
With Lyrahaving moved back, she too takes a step back into the space she made, hopefully allowing others to more easily move in to attack.
Your divine bolt of energy blasts a huge chunk out of the side of the creature. The radiant energy then begins to make the creature shimmer and glow.
Meira,
Your arrow is expertly aimed and embeds deep into the creatures left eye. It shrieks in pain as a tendril wraps around the arrow and pulls it back out.
Don Jon attempts to break free from the creature but the monstrosity is too powerful for the cowboy. He yells, "HELP ME!"
Lady Alisande's jaw slackens at the sight of the massive monstrosity tangling with Don Jon, its tendrils beginning to coil around Don Jon's helpless form. She'd always suffered a terrible phobia of insects, and the thought of him being cocooned in those grasping filaments and devoured before her eyes makes her instinctively gag. And yet she blinks, caught off-guard.
'Don Juan'? Wasn't that the name of that degenerate philanderer from those absurd Amnish romance novels? The chauvinistic lothario that every impressionable teenage boy south of the Spine of the World seemed to model themselves after these days?
The noblewoman shakes her head, startled out of confusion and into action as she watches Lyra and Meira's quick wits. She closes her eyes briefly, channelling the strange, instinctive ability she'd possessed long before her tutelage in the arcane arts had ever begun. The scruff of Don Jon's shirt jerks sharply backward, as if an invisible hand is attempting to yank him out of reach of the carrion crawler's snapping mandibles. A moment later, her fist unfurls. Particles of flickering light crackle above each digit, coalescing into a bulb of pure flame in the palm of her hand. Alisande hurls the small ball of fire, aiming directly at one of the creature's eyes.
BONUS ACTION: Telekinetic: Shove, moving Don Juan 5ft backwards. (A shove is forced movement, which should break a grapple, I think?) The DC is 15 if DJ decides to resist for some reason. ACTION: Casting Fire Bolt. To hit: 11 Damage: 3 MOVEMENT: None.
Your telekinetic force rips Don Jon out of the Carrion Crawler's reach. However, your fire bolt flies past the creature and scorches the rock wall behind it.
Eldrin stands there in surprise at the turn of events. The incantation for his sleep spell dies on his lips... He watches Alisande's fire bolt fly past the creature and responds, "Unfortunate." He sends his own fiery bolt at the creature but has worse aim—attack 8. The bolt hits above the beast, sizzling the damp ceiling.
The carrion crawler chases after Don Jon and once again wraps its tendrels around the cowboy, pulling him into its mouth. Don Jon's body goes limp as if affected by some kind of paralysis. The crawler bites down and begins dragging the cowboy away, back towards the hole it came from.
It was evident now that the screaming man behind the door had his reasons. The young purple-robed dark-haired man with the sinister-looking scar however stands unflinching at the sight of the horrendous creature. He had seen worse, experienced worse, but the ugly monster with the tentacled mouth had to be dealt with, swiftly.
As the monster catches up with the infected prisoner, Rasziel starts to hover and the purplish magical energies in his hands starts to hum and crackle. With a simple motion of his gloved hand he sends the infected one sideways and slamming into the wall but out of the grasp of the tentacled monster. Now with a clear shot he unleashes three purplish flaming beams from his hands and the purple jewel on his chest towards towards the disgusting monster.
"Lyra, Zephyros, Gareth, Meira. A pleasure to make your acquaintances." Alisande bobs her head politely in turn to each of the strangers as Sister Garaele facilitates the largely pleasant, if chaotic introductions. She quirks a brow at the abrupt volte-face in Meira's manner. It wasn't the first time Alisande's penchant for an admittedly grandiloquent turn of phrase had rubbed someone the wrong way, but she let it pass unacknowledged - particularly given the gathering unease on the faces of those clustered closer to the cell.
However as Eldrin addresses her, she turns to face the elf, laughing in surprise. "If I could lay my hands on a treatise as fabled as The Annals of Karsus, I would count myself the wealthiest woman in the world! Alas, the world compels me to make do with A Myth Drannan Amphigory. A fine history in its own right, but with the greatest respect to the Sage, is rather like ordering champagne, and be asked to make do with pigswill."
She adds to Zephyros, "Bogin and Finlie made mention of your heroic exploits and the dire condition of Mr Raskin. If I can be of service, please, say the word." When Don Jon's shouts increase in urgency, all conversation on her part is cut short - her hand alights on the loop on her hip, plucking the elder wood wand free.
Rasziel
The young purple-robed dark-haired man with the sinister-looking scar looks between those present as the introduce each other in turn with the annoying commotion in the background. He raises an eyebrow as the young red-haired lady mentions his interest in business. She was arguably correct in her assessment but he wouldn't quite phrase it like that himself before going into business with strangers. There is a hint of pleasant surprise though as he is introduced as her companion although they only met hours ago, but he could certainly have use for allies like her if he would ever be able to achieve his goals.
"Rasziel Moorcroft at your service..." He says with a polite bow before the others leave for the banging and shouting. "...and while my esteemed companion might have slightly exaggerated my voracious appetite, I do plead guilty to being a businessman. That being said I'm sure we will find mutual business beneficial to everyone." He continues with a small polite smile before following the others to the commotion.
Rasziel
Coming up to the door with the incessant banging, the young purple-robed dark-haired man with the sinister-looking scar looks to the apparent adventurers. "Have you considered the possibility that he has already transformed and might try to decieve you?" He asks quietly before turning his attention to the door. "Help is here but we need to be sure that you have not yet succumbed to the lycanthropy. Have you seen any signs yet?" He asks loud enough for the man on the other side of the door to hear.
Insight: Dice rolls not yet available for this section.
(Rasziel Insight: 14 )
Lyra smiles widely at Sister Garaele. "Oh yes, he should definitely laugh a bit more! Why, that's one of the reasons I joked around back there...but I don't think I managed to get the message through, I'm afraid!"
She gives Allisande a nod and a smile, then turns to Rasziel. "Of course we've considered that possibility!"
Scary guy! With that sinister look… and that cough? Is he sick? Well—not the time to be thinking about that, Lyra. Nor about that broom sticking out of Alisande's backpack. Is she really so fond of cleaning that she carries a broom around? Ugh! Stop it, Lyra. Focus.
"But that's precisely why we're here. We want to—no, we are going to help him, whether he's transformed already or not. It's not as though he inherited the curse from his parents, which would make it far harder to deal with. Don Juan ... I mean ... Don-Jon was simply bitten by one of the wererats that were lurking in the mine a few days ago. All he needs is someone who can heal him. And, thank Tymora, Sister Garaele will be able to."
She turns to the elf with a bright smile. "Please, Sister, tell me if I can assist. I can't call on our goddess's magic the way you can, but I'll help however I can!"
Finally, she glances toward Zephyros, still holding the door. Echoing Meira, she adds, "Yes—we should let him out! Otherwise Sister Garaele won't be able to end the curse at all!"
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
"Don-Jon, calm down! We're working on letting you out now!" Zephyros yells through the door, putting his weight against the entrance.
Athletics: 15
Ironheart listens to Lyra as she suggest he open the door. "Very well Ms. Lyra. Please step back." He breaks the door off of the hinges and sets it to the side. He then makes sure he interposes himself between Don-Jon and everyone else.
Rasziel
As the bearded warrior is about to release the infected man, the young purple-robed dark-haired man with the sinister-looking scar quickly steps back from the door. He doesn't consider himself brave but for some reason he still tries to take a protective position in front of the women present, purple eldritch energies instinctively forming in his hand. The brief tense silence before the door is opened is broken by another series of coughs, but not enough to take the purple-robed man's attention from the door.
Alisande,
Eldrin gives the slightest hint of a smile. His eyes soften ever so little, but it's hard to notice in the dim mine. He nods at your response before turning his attention back to current events.
Meira,
Eldrin meets your gaze and nods his head to signify he understands and has agreed. He stands prepared with his hands at the ready in front of him.
Don-Jon responds to you all as you tell him you're here to help him and need him to calm down, "DON"T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! OPEN THIS DOOR NOW! OH GOD... OH NO... IT'S HERE! HEEELLLPPPPPP! LET ME OUT!"
Rasziel,
Don-Jon ignores your question as he responds to you, "LET ME OUT OF HERE! PLEASE! AHHHOOUUWW!"
You don't sense any deception from the cowboy, but you do recognize the man's strong desire to be released from his prison cell/office. He's terrified.
Lyra,
Sister Garaele says to you, "Yes, please pray for guidance as I ask Tymora for Her divine intervention. We need all the guidance we can get."
Zephyros,
The door breaks off of the hinges at Don Jon's continued assault, but you hold it firmly in place for the moment.
Everyone,
The banging on the door abruptly stops and you all hear what sounds like some kind of scuffle from behind the door. Don Jon continues his blood curdling scream and cry for help, "AHHHHHHH... NOOOO... HEEEELLLLPPPP!"
Zephyros lifts the door off it's frame and sets it to the side. Immediately, you all see Don Jon with his back to you. Towering above him, a giant carrion crawler attacking the cowboy. Don Jon has his hands holding the monstrosities mandibles that keep getting closer and closer with each snap shut and reopen. It's tendrils wrapping around the cowboy pulling him closer and closer.
Combat begins!
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Combat Begins round one initiative:
For the purposes of this fight I'll say the corridor is 10 feet wide to allow two abreast for ease of movement.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Lyra screams at the sight before them. Almost without thinking, she thrusts her small hand toward the monstrosity and cries out, "Let Don Juan go, you ugly thing!!" She doesn't even realize she's calling the cowboy by the nickname she gave him back when she didn't like him at all. All she can think of now is the promise they made to help him, and no carrion crawler is going to take that away!
Whether because Sister Garaele's presence strengthens her, or because Tymora wills it in her own chaotic way, the spell lands with unusual force. The beast begins to glow, making it easier for the next blow to strike true.
The halfling then scurries back a little to give the others room to strike. Being so much smaller than the rest, she can slip between them with ease if she needs to move again.
Action: Guiding Bolt (level 1) to hit 21 / Damage: 21 (almost max damage, nice!) and the next attack (Meira's, I assume) on the creature can be made at advantage.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Meira grabs her bow and fires at the Carrion Crawler, now easier to hit with the glow Lyra imparted.
(Shortbow Attack: 21, Damage: 7 piercing + 11 sneak attack)
After that shot, she makes a feint at another, trying to get the creature to protect itself to the right. But she calls out to Zephyros, "There's an opening to the left with that thing pulling..." There's the briefest of pauses as she then says, "Don Juan," giving a playful wink to Lyra. (Bonus Action - Master of Tactics: gives HELP to Zephyros on his next attack)
With Lyra having moved back, she too takes a step back into the space she made, hopefully allowing others to more easily move in to attack.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard ||
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Lyra,
Your divine bolt of energy blasts a huge chunk out of the side of the creature. The radiant energy then begins to make the creature shimmer and glow.
Meira,
Your arrow is expertly aimed and embeds deep into the creatures left eye. It shrieks in pain as a tendril wraps around the arrow and pulls it back out.
Don Jon attempts to break free from the creature but the monstrosity is too powerful for the cowboy. He yells, "HELP ME!"
Alisande is up!
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Lady Alisande's jaw slackens at the sight of the massive monstrosity tangling with Don Jon, its tendrils beginning to coil around Don Jon's helpless form. She'd always suffered a terrible phobia of insects, and the thought of him being cocooned in those grasping filaments and devoured before her eyes makes her instinctively gag. And yet she blinks, caught off-guard.
'Don Juan'? Wasn't that the name of that degenerate philanderer from those absurd Amnish romance novels? The chauvinistic lothario that every impressionable teenage boy south of the Spine of the World seemed to model themselves after these days?
The noblewoman shakes her head, startled out of confusion and into action as she watches Lyra and Meira's quick wits. She closes her eyes briefly, channelling the strange, instinctive ability she'd possessed long before her tutelage in the arcane arts had ever begun. The scruff of Don Jon's shirt jerks sharply backward, as if an invisible hand is attempting to yank him out of reach of the carrion crawler's snapping mandibles. A moment later, her fist unfurls. Particles of flickering light crackle above each digit, coalescing into a bulb of pure flame in the palm of her hand. Alisande hurls the small ball of fire, aiming directly at one of the creature's eyes.
BONUS ACTION: Telekinetic: Shove, moving Don Juan 5ft backwards. (A shove is forced movement, which should break a grapple, I think?) The DC is 15 if DJ decides to resist for some reason.
ACTION: Casting Fire Bolt. To hit: 11 Damage: 3
MOVEMENT: None.
Alisande,
Your telekinetic force rips Don Jon out of the Carrion Crawler's reach. However, your fire bolt flies past the creature and scorches the rock wall behind it.
Eldrin stands there in surprise at the turn of events. The incantation for his sleep spell dies on his lips... He watches Alisande's fire bolt fly past the creature and responds, "Unfortunate." He sends his own fiery bolt at the creature but has worse aim—attack 8. The bolt hits above the beast, sizzling the damp ceiling.
The carrion crawler chases after Don Jon and once again wraps its tendrels around the cowboy, pulling him into its mouth. Don Jon's body goes limp as if affected by some kind of paralysis. The crawler bites down and begins dragging the cowboy away, back towards the hole it came from.
Rasziel, you're up!
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Rasziel
It was evident now that the screaming man behind the door had his reasons. The young purple-robed dark-haired man with the sinister-looking scar however stands unflinching at the sight of the horrendous creature. He had seen worse, experienced worse, but the ugly monster with the tentacled mouth had to be dealt with, swiftly.
As the monster catches up with the infected prisoner, Rasziel starts to hover and the purplish magical energies in his hands starts to hum and crackle. With a simple motion of his gloved hand he sends the infected one sideways and slamming into the wall but out of the grasp of the tentacled monster. Now with a clear shot he unleashes three purplish flaming beams from his hands and the purple jewel on his chest towards towards the disgusting monster.
Bonus action: Telekinetic shove
Action: Casting flavoured Scorching Ray
Purplish flaming beam: 23 Fire: 7
Purplish flaming beam: 22 Fire: 7
Purplish flaming beam: 18 Fire: 11