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TURTLEDOME!: Battle Bone (DM: KenHood, Judge: Lord S.)
- Thread starter KenHood
- Start date
fireinthedust
Explorer
[sblock=but but but] Yeah, ok. I'm just role-playing here, I didn't read the rules on this one. I wondered why Emral would argue with Olivia about making a basic attack and randomly picking Finnian (good call on that one; I bet you rolled a die, right?) rather than flaming-bursting everyone horrifically.
good to know.
should I roll to see if I save this round?[/sblock]
Dazed as he now is, the sorcerer waves his magic dagger ineffectually at his party members. p'choo p'choo! I'm gonna splode everybody! p'choo!
good to know.
should I roll to see if I save this round?[/sblock]
Dazed as he now is, the sorcerer waves his magic dagger ineffectually at his party members. p'choo p'choo! I'm gonna splode everybody! p'choo!
[sblock=FitD]
The stupefied sorcerer waves his dagger and makes sound effects as Finnian and Erlai zip past.
"Gods ***** you!" screams Olivia, the remnants of undamaged flesh on her face flushing with fury, "KILL THEM YOU GIDDY ***** ***** *****--"
Then, the flat of Finnian's blade whacks her on the temple. She falls, unconscious.
The mob goes insane with cheers, screaming the names of the party members, chanting, "GO EMRAUNIVANNIAN!"
Uncle Mikey knees wobble and gives way as the halfling swoons. His bottom thumps against the floor. His hands tremble as he draws a metal flask from beneath his jacket and takes a swig. He offers the flask to Drivan.
People rush into the room, slapping you on the back, shaking hands, shoving their faces into yours while spouting words incomprehensible in the din. A cacophony of congratulation.
"Okay," says a large fellow, "We'll let you get on with your looting! Everybody, back to the pavilion!"
The mob responds with a loud huzzah and shambles away with giddy screams and squeals.
An old charwoman remains behind and shakes her finger at Finnian. "You listen to me, young man! You should have killed that horrible woman! She'll be the death of you yet!"
With that, she hobbles away.
As the throng departs, Marco cautiously peeps around the doorway. "Is it safe, now?"
Then, he sees widely varied and highly unusual selection of gore strewn about the building.
And vomits.
RAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUURRRRRRGH!
"Whoa! Whoa!" shouts Uncle Mikey, trying to scoot away, "Nephew dude, don't do that! You know if I see someone throw up, I--"
RAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUURRRRRRGH!
Only against the dazed condition, not the domination.[/sblock]
The stupefied sorcerer waves his dagger and makes sound effects as Finnian and Erlai zip past.
"Gods ***** you!" screams Olivia, the remnants of undamaged flesh on her face flushing with fury, "KILL THEM YOU GIDDY ***** ***** *****--"
Then, the flat of Finnian's blade whacks her on the temple. She falls, unconscious.
VICTORY!
The mob goes insane with cheers, screaming the names of the party members, chanting, "GO EMRAUNIVANNIAN!"
Uncle Mikey knees wobble and gives way as the halfling swoons. His bottom thumps against the floor. His hands tremble as he draws a metal flask from beneath his jacket and takes a swig. He offers the flask to Drivan.
People rush into the room, slapping you on the back, shaking hands, shoving their faces into yours while spouting words incomprehensible in the din. A cacophony of congratulation.
"Okay," says a large fellow, "We'll let you get on with your looting! Everybody, back to the pavilion!"
The mob responds with a loud huzzah and shambles away with giddy screams and squeals.
An old charwoman remains behind and shakes her finger at Finnian. "You listen to me, young man! You should have killed that horrible woman! She'll be the death of you yet!"
With that, she hobbles away.
As the throng departs, Marco cautiously peeps around the doorway. "Is it safe, now?"
Then, he sees widely varied and highly unusual selection of gore strewn about the building.
And vomits.
RAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUURRRRRRGH!
"Whoa! Whoa!" shouts Uncle Mikey, trying to scoot away, "Nephew dude, don't do that! You know if I see someone throw up, I--"
RAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUURRRRRRGH!
mohalloran
First Post
"Vaunea tie."
And with that, Vaunea digs through the room Drivan had once occupied and grabs some rope and the hood. He then proceeds to tie up Olivia and put the hood over her head, tying it down so that it can not fall off.
Once the job is done, Vaunea looks around at her companions. "Take to guards?"
And with that, Vaunea digs through the room Drivan had once occupied and grabs some rope and the hood. He then proceeds to tie up Olivia and put the hood over her head, tying it down so that it can not fall off.
Once the job is done, Vaunea looks around at her companions. "Take to guards?"
fireinthedust
Explorer
Emral, still giddy from the enchantment, giggles as first Marco, then Mikey, then Drivan RRRRUUUUAAAARRRRGGGGHHH. He leans over excitedly, trying to fit in: Rrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeaaalllyyythrowingup! he lets out, then covers his mouth. Woo, glad we got that out of the way.
He pats the ranger on the shoulder. Finnian, I'm glad you didn't kill her. Like I was trying to say, I'm sure she was just a victim in all this, the product of a villainous spouse or unhappy childhood or something. At any rate, I don't like killing women, or anyone if there's a chance we can end problems talking things out.
Emral looks about the room for some rope to tie Olivia's hands, and maybe a chest to keep her in until the guard can be reached.
Hey, what happened to that psychic voice we heard in our heads? I only saw Olivia here; I hope we didn't kill whoever that was. He peeks around for, say, a magical sword or figurine, or another of the jars, or even a hiding person. Any sign of the source of the voice?
He pats the ranger on the shoulder. Finnian, I'm glad you didn't kill her. Like I was trying to say, I'm sure she was just a victim in all this, the product of a villainous spouse or unhappy childhood or something. At any rate, I don't like killing women, or anyone if there's a chance we can end problems talking things out.
Emral looks about the room for some rope to tie Olivia's hands, and maybe a chest to keep her in until the guard can be reached.
Hey, what happened to that psychic voice we heard in our heads? I only saw Olivia here; I hope we didn't kill whoever that was. He peeks around for, say, a magical sword or figurine, or another of the jars, or even a hiding person. Any sign of the source of the voice?
Finnian watches the old woman walk away with a quiet, pensive look on his face. Hmmm, I wonder what she could mean by that?, he muses.
You okay there, Marcus? I'm so glad to see you are well. Is everyone in your family alright? Are all the kids OK?
Exactly what I was thinking. The woman should pay for what she did to our friend, Marty.
I was just hoping she would surrender. Those other guys tried to kill me, and I think they would have if Uncle Mack hadn't saved me, twice. Gah, what was that big reptile thing anyways?
Did you hear that too? I thought that I was just imagining things.
[sblock=Victory!]
Sweet! When can we see the XP awards? If the next encounter will work with us at level 2, it would be nice to submit our character sheets for approval as soon as possible. On the other hand, I'm totally fine with running to the end of the adventure at level 1 if that works better for the story[/sblock]
The fluid in the flask is not alcohol. Instead, it seems to be a distillation of every hot, spicy thing imagined since the dawn of time, as if someone (meaning Uncle Mikey) had bottled the quintessence of pepper.
Drivan finds that a mere drop of this Uber-Chili has caused his tongue to swell to the size of his fist, his eyes to water, his nose to run, and all feeling (save for an exquisite, unremittant pain) to vacate his head.
Vaunea discerns Drivan's intent and ties up Olivia.
"Sheesh. Whatta sap!" snorts a little kid watching through the window. As you turn to look at him, the child drops to the ground and runs off to join the rest of the mob.
Clutched in Roger the Mage's charred, brittle fingers is a shrunken head.
Marco still bent over, attempting to catch his breath, smiles weakly and nods. He gives Finnian a thumbs-up, turns green, and vomits again.
"Marco?" says Marco's wife, "Are you okay?"
[sblock=Victory!]
Do your looting and take an extended rest, then something possibly awesome may occur.[/sblock]
fireinthedust
Explorer
Emral pouts at the child's dismissal, then shrugs. He hops over to the wizard's corpse and, reaching out a tentative hand... snatches the shrunken head!
Hello? Is this the voice in my head?
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