(ack, just noticed, BORED, nor board, but if I edit it will trigger a dice manipulate tag. oh, the shame)

Quote from Mattan_Braddus >>

Ath: 19

Burt twists the ogres hand back in front and shakes it firmly, staring him down. I said, you should join us. Why are you guys being jerks?

 "Jerks?" Someone calls from outside. "Ahem! Jerks?" Ah that's better - clearly it's the halfogre talking - "you tools took our shinies! Been waiting weeks for the door guard to take a break. Then you sneak in while we was playin with the little lost boy! Geez, hope he's ok, shudna left him alone at the camp..."

TBK, Iradon - you're up. 

Burt, talking doesn't cost an action, and neither does opposing the ogre... 

"Lost boy you say?" The Burger King asks the ogre. "Interesting... But have you by chance seen any perfectly good arms lying about anywhere? I'm sure we could help the kid get home as well but the arms... It's really the arms that we're after." He looks over at Ira and the others. Adding, "That is correct right? Arms? Legs too if you have them."

What are we inside of that a call comes from outside? I thought we had to leave the no room dungeon that even we couldn't screw up but did to get where the voices were. Are we still in the vestibule by the door where the NSP ghost lives?

The boy, old news, happy ending according to Dee'emm. He says to the model train Didn't see no names on no shinies pal.

To Booger Kind, Limbs would be welcome, but right now I think what we are after is some rest, and I think we gotta trash some yahoos to get there

(So that means Burt gets to attack or something?)

(the 'alarmed' door was a short distance into the tunnel. And yeah, he does but we both know he'll do something else ridiculous and roll a natural 21)

Iradon will miss his eldritch lick. Attack: 17 Damage: 10

(Right, so now I know that by saying I miss I hit and do max damage. And just so we are clear, it was the goblin I was fighting.)

Iradon's tongue rips right through the goblin's face, tasting sweat, skin, blood and it's last thoughts - choppy choppy choppy choppy choppy choppy choppy choppy choppy choppy choppy OH SHIT! - It's stumpy-necked body falls to the floor. The Ogre screams "JERKS!!!!"

Burt, seeing the goblin fall headless to the ground, says well that was tasteless...then uses a bonus action to see if anyone got the pun.

Regardless, he'll attempt to separate the ogre's arm from its body for ol' Brick Keppler: Attack: 13 Damage: 11

Burt's blade bites bitterly binto be bogres barm. The alliteration was going really well at the start but I had to get lazy in the middle there or the game would go nowhere. TBK's chat has no effect, possibly because it's hard to really concentrate on the subtleties and subtext of language when your arm is being sawn off.

The half-ogre seems pretty stoic about the wound and seeing his friend's head obliterated, but there's a weird crying noise coming from Greg's direction.

He (the half ogre, not Greg. He has a name but it's hard to spell) swings his axe at Burt's arm in a petty riposte

Attack: 14 Damage: 8

but with his arm injured he has trouble controlling the weight. He grabs the haft with both hands, ready for his next swing.

Party : Go!

Alarmingly aroused at affecting an arm, Burt will once again go for the total sever: Attack: 8 Damage: 6

Hoofmonger happily harries halfsy here, hacking, hopefully harming him horribly.

17 with TBKs sword

(notice I'm just borrowing it, when you have arms I'm giving it right back)

And damage is 4

TBK's sword is a LongSword +1 which is why we give him so much shit about it. So that's 8 Damage. And it hurts. The half-ogre gives you a look like he knows you cheated a bit, and an angry voice from inside the tomb says "Gottle of Gear!" because I've fully committed to the Ventriloquism thing.

Iradon, now believing he can lick will try to lick the ogres face

Attack: 12 Damage: 7

Iradon's tongue drags up the half-ogre's face, catching the stubble on its cheek and not letting go, ripping the Hairs and their attendant skin out as it goes. The ogre has a genuine look of fear on its face now. Well, on the other side of his face. This near side looks like he's auditioning for Clive Barker's adaptation of Paddington Bear.

BeeK! Finish Him!

"Err... uhm... Let's not be grabbing each other's swords just yet there stumpy!" says the Coal Colored Cavalier. "I've got but a scratch! Nothing really!" he shouts as he jumps high toward whatever we are attacking, I think the ogre, but really can't be bothered to scroll up that far so anyway, he jumps high toward the next thing that shall be slaughtered and while sailing through the air past stumpy, he grabs his sword between his feet and then spins down toward the foe's arm, "Because you know... I could do with a good arming!" and... [find out soon on... Let's Wait Until He Rolls!]

(Attack: Attack: 17 Damage: 7,  Plus the skill to pull that off: 14)

I don't know what skill that was supposed to be but it's not your forté. 

TBK trips over, accidentally driving his head through the half-ogre's belly and rupturing it's stomach, spraying digestive acid up into its chest cavity, eating through a couple of important looking pipes. The ogre, clearly in an awful lot of pain and rapidly weakening, falls backwards unable to cry out, his arms flopping helplessly against the Knight's back trying to push it out of him. He's not dead, he's still trying to pull himself up, but his eyes are glassing over so I think it's safe to say he's not getting back up. 

Unless TBK has been editing his equipment list again, he doesn't have a snorkel and will suffocate shortly. 

Greg will pull the Pitch Pugilist from the villainous viscera before giving up on alliteration for a while. While the beekster has a chance to catch a breath,

Greg will try to ease the h.o.'s passing - I think it goes something like

then do a careful search for goodies

After which, he helps TBK up, Let's get those scratches patched up, so you can sword again without acrobatics

The halfogre is carrying a battleaxe and has a little bracelet of bird skulls around one wrist. The goblin has a small pouch with 4cp in it and has a scimitar but it's of poor quality weighs more than it's worth. I could have sworn he had a shield too but I can't find the feckin thing anywhere so neither can you. 

Greg inserts TBK's sword back into its legitimate scabbard, slow and careful so it does not hurt. TBK is satisfied. Bird skulls and battleaxe seem kinda Barbarianish, if y'all don't mind. And a penny for each of us! Yay! Campy time yet?

Is the HO/G campsite apparent? We need rest. Otherwise let's look for a suitable spot. Once set up, Greg will assist His Knightness seeing if we can re-attach those arms. Maybe Burt can sing us a song.

The Black Knight shakes his head and flings intestinal scraps about the place while exclaiming, "Just as I'd planned it! Precision par usual!" He leans into Stumpy and whispers, "Thank you good sir Stumps for the assistance. Air comes in handy at times." Then he turns back towards the others. "Rest, pft, if you need it, I suppose I could relax for a moment. I've got a few scratches, nothing more, but understand how others less stout of heart may need to unwind after thwarting these slight obstacles to our progress. Any arms about btw?"