Arabesu's Eyes of the Lich Queen - IC

[Fangor the Fierce]

"You've got this under control..." Trent says, moving quickly to help Rosa out. He moves to stand over the faking lieutenant, his weapon drawn and ready. He readies it for the stab, should this creature, think of trying anything else sneaky.

"Tell him to give up, or die...his charade isn't working," he says to Rosa, hoping that she can translate for him.

Ready action to stab this guy, without remorse, should he make any attempt that is not giving up. +6 to hit, d8+4dmg, Activating Impaling power, so that this attack, should it be needed, would be a melee TOUCH attack.

 

[Vertexx69]

OOC: Your modifier on the strength check should be +15, rather than +19; I think that you're stacking powerful build and mountain rage again: +7 str, +4 feat, +4 size. Is there something else? At least your character sheet agrees with my math.

OOC - oops sorry about that, (boot to the head). but yah I finally got a few average rolls instead of my standard 7 or less.

 

[moritheil]

"Tell him to give up, or die...his charade isn't working," he says to Rosa, hoping that she can translate for him.

Though somewhat reluctant to reveal herself, Rosapila obeys Trent's directions.

"Hear me, O warrior. You fought well, and you are indeed strong," she says in draconic. "But now you must choose: relinquish your magic and ask to be spared, or die proudly in battle. Do not deal falsely with us."

OOC: By "your magic" Rosa refers to magic items, which in tribal cultures are sometimes referred to in this fashion.

 

[Vertexx69]

Hightower, barb2/fighter2 AC 17 (uncanny dodge) HP 37/45 AP 3/7

Hightower, on seeing that the rest of the party has the devious leutenant under control he takes another swipe at one of the conscious blackscales. Attack/Dmg: 21/21

 

[Arabesu]

The poison-dusk sighs, smiles a wickedly toothy grin, and opens his eyes. "Oh well. I thought it was worth a shot. Fine. I will surrender myself and the secrets of how to activate my magical gear if you promise to let me go afterward, no more harmed than I already am now. Is it a deal? You over there!" shouting over to the blackscale, "You might as well give up. They have you outmatched." He continues but switches to common, "Mindless brutes. Charging in to the chain wielder was too rich. They should have just thrown themselves off of the top of the temple." He flexes his claws to show that he holds no weapons in them and slowly stands to his feet.

After a few tense seconds, the blackscale drops his club, holds his long-clawed hands before him defensively, and also slowly and carefully rises to his feet, wary of Hightower's chain.

Having a moment to look about you, you notice the four small huts set up around a fire pit. They look to be suitable for halfling-sized creatures, with doorways 3 feet tall. In the shade of the huts, nestlike bed areas, along with scattered fletching tools and bowyer materials can be seen.

Four large huts surround the far camp. Made from stone and mud, each is over twenty feet across and poorly thatched. Sun-bleached bones are scattered about the 10-foot-tall entrances to the structures. Beyond the huts to the southwest stands a large wooden cage.

 

[Fangor the Fierce]

Trent keeps his guard up, as the negotiator speaks. "Make one more move against us, and it will be your last."

With that, he glances at the cage, asking the obvious, "So, what's in the cage, and what are the smaller huts for?"

 

[Arabesu]

The poison dusk blinks several times when he hears Trent's question as if he can't believe what he is hearing.

"Um. We live in them? What would you expect? As to the cage, you'll have to ask him," motioning to the blackscale with his eyes.

 

[Fangor the Fierce]

"Why don't YOU ask them, as it's obviously easier for you to talk to them instead of me. Rosa, make sure there's no secret talk between them. I don't want any more surprises."

 

[Vertexx69]

Hightower slings his Chain back around his shoulders and reaches down to the blackscale, hauling him to his feet by his defensively raised arms. Trying his hardest to concentrate on something other than ripping the large scaleclad warrior to bits, he pulls the lizard's arms behind him with one hand while he rumages in his pack for end of the silk rope with the other, then securely ties them behind it's back Use Rope: (1d20+2=21). After that he pulls out his waterskin and pours a bit onto the ropes so they swell and become even harder to break. All the while making horrid grinding, gravelly noises with the occasional earthy growl mixed in.
Almost as soon as that is done, whisps of steam start to vent from beneath his blackened armor and the fires in his veins and eyes start to dim. He reduces in size, back to his paltry 7.5 feet tall and feels a bit worse for wear, but luckily his stoney face doesn't show it. But he manages to keep his hold while standing behind the blackscale. He addresses the leutenant,"Your wisdom has saved your lives this day."

 

[Arabesu]

Double post: See 211.