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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Phoenix" data-source="post: 2622096" data-attributes="member: 16166">[sblock]Initiative:Scout Team - 17Taran (and Twitchy) - 15Yellow Robes - 12Jovik - 9Ba'aktar - 3Warrior Team - 2Combat Rolls:Scout Team attack roll (AC 13) +15 - HitScout Team damage roll - 9pts (9/18hp)Twitchy attack roll (AC 13) +24 - HitTwitchy damage roll - 4pts (5/18hp)Cultist Fortitude save (DC 13) +9 - FailureCultist's Concentration check (DC 16) +12 - FailureWounded Cultists Concentration checks (DC 16) +6 - FailureUnwounded Cultists Concentration checks (DC 16) +14 - FailureJovik attack roll (AC 13) +20 - HitJovik damage roll - 14pts (-5/18hps)Cultist Fortitude save (DC 17) +7 - Failure (Death)Ba'aktar attack roll (AC 13) +20 - HitBa'aktar damage roll - 10pts (-1/18hps)Warrior Team attack roll (AC 13) +14 - HitWarrior Team damage roll - 9pts (0/18hps and 9/18hps)[/sblock]As soon as the door opens the scout's strike, throwing a volley of daggers or crossbow bolts into the doorways about the room.  Surprised cultists scream with pain as the blades and bolts cut into their bodies, weakening them before the onslaught of the main invading force.Taran's mouth begins to call word of power to his lips, invigorated by a new sense of well-being clouds begin to gather on the ceiling far above the groups, lightning crackling, ready to be unleashed at his whim.  Twitchy is somewhat more physical, leaping across the room that lies below the walkway, he lunges at the nearest cultist with teeth flashing, tearing at the man's arm.  The spell at the man's lips falters as he desperately tries to batter the giant rat from him, crackling energy failing at his fingertips.From around the room the chanting begins as cultists move slowly and cautiously into the chamber.  From the various entrances at least twenty of the men are prepared to throw off the invaders, though half of them were injured now.  The spells of the cultists are unprepared, and the men untrained, as the magic flows through them unskillfully.  A handful of magical bolts scream across the room to strike lightly at the invading forces, but to no real effect.Jovik's massive two-handed blade almost leaps into his hands with glee and the feeling of power that the Jackal usually feels seems to double.  The blade seems to burn with a dark light, flickering and drawing upon the light in the room to fuel its hunger.  With an overhead slash the blade cuts deeply into the cultist that stands before him, the man's face seems horrified as his flesh pales and begins to age, his ancient body collapsing and crumbling at the Jackal's feet.Ba'aktar, still standing upon the walkway above, charges to stand at this strange scout's side, swinging his massive khora in a wide arc and bringing it down upon the man's left shoulder, shattering his bones and spraying blood across the area.  Droplets spray across the scout's darkened blade, sizzling as they come into contact and leaving a horrible stench in their wake.The rest of the invaders, seeing the robes inch their way into the room, take the opportunity to outflank them.  Circling each of the robes, the warriors begin to cut them down where they stand, lopping of limbs, scarring faces, creating ugly corpses to decorate the chamber.In the end only a handful of men stand before the unfazed invaders, and are all too quickly cut down by the zeal of the men eager to visit death upon their enemies.  The room is somewhat quiet, apart from the sicking noise of a growing wailing that seems to be eminating from somewhere within the chamber...</blockquote>

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