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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 533412" data-attributes="member: 143">In Neverwinter Nights, stag beetles are one of my favorite monsters to use as a DM/builder.  With a 4d6+9 bite, even high-level characters have to respect 'em (and low-level characters had best run!).  * * * * * Book VII, Part 14Cal realized belatedly that the cry he heard was his own, drawn out by the surprise of having a beetle the size of a wagon rumbling rapidly toward him.  The beetle’s mandibles snapped down at his head.  Blue light flared as its jaws snapped on the edges of his magical shield, the barrier holding just long enough for him to leap back.  The beetle came on, however, but the momentary delay gave Cal just enough time to utter the syllables of a spell. He felt the familiar prickling of his flesh as the stoneskin settled in around him, girding his frame with protection stronger than the most skillfully forged set of plate armor. Lok was caught between two beetles who seemed intent on tearing him into two roughly equal portions.  The combination of his magical armor and Cal’s haste had thus far kept the pair from succeeding, but pinned between the two of them, the genasi warrior knew that even his considerable fortitude would not keep him safe for long.  With his enhanced speed and strength he managed to tear free of the first beetle’s grasp, ignoring the pain that twisted through his torso as he lifted his axe to strike the wounded one in front of him.  He scored a hit that tore a deep gash in its head, but the beetle seemed nonplussed by the hurt as it snapped at him again.  This time it failed to get a good hold on him, but his trained instincts warned him that the one behind him was coming on again, seeking to regain its hold.  Still, he started when he heard a warcry sound out somewhere behind him and to his right, and he sensed rather than saw the beetle behind him suddenly shudder and then shift its massive frame to the side.  He could not turn to see what was happening, though, as the wounded beetle lurched forward again, and he had to put all of his attention into ducking another vicious snap of its powerful jaws.Dana rushed to Cal’s aid, engaging the beetle that had tried to trample him with her longspear.  She thrust the head of her weapon at its head, biting off a curse as it glanced off of the creature’s thick hide.  The attack certainly got its attention, though, and she danced back swiftly, able to easily outpace it even without the boost from her magical boots, drawing it away while she continued to thrust at it with the spear. Cal found himself hard-pressed.  The beetle attacked him again, and even with his stoneskin he felt pain as its mandibles snapped onto his shoulder, dragging him upward.  He managed to pull free before it got a firm grasp, and staggered back, knowing that he would not be able to outdistance it.  Suddenly, a long arrow slammed into the thing’s head, just below one dark, alien eye.  For an instant, he thought of Benzan, but then he saw that this arrow flared with silver tendrils of electrical energy that spread out into a deadly nimbus around the creature’s head.  The discharge only lasted a second, but it was clear that the beetle felt the pain.  It lifted its head just in time to take a second arrow placed only a handspan from the first, driving just as deep.  The beetle screeched in pain, confused, and Cal took full advantage of its distraction to draw his wand and fire an acid arrow point-blank into its open mouth. That seemed to get its attention, anyway, and it came at him again, charging blindly forward.  This time there was no chance to escape, and he went down, trying to protect his head as it trampled him.  Benzan ground his teeth with frustration as he rushed toward Cal and his massive adversary.  Thus far he’d scored several hits, but even with his sneak attacks and flaming arrows they seemed to do little more than annoy the lumbering creatures.  For a moment he felt divided as he saw another beetle chasing after Dana, but he forced himself to focus on his current target.  He knew—he hoped—that she could handle herself. He saw the arrows streak out from the forest cover on the opposite side of the road and hit the beetle, and he saw a hulking man-sized form appear from the same location and charge into melee with the beetles threatening Lok a short distance away.  He did not spare any more time for these new allies, if allies they were, for the beetle swept forward over Cal, the gnome disappearing under its sprawling body.  Benzan charged, drawing and firing one more arrow before he drew his sword.  The arrow glanced off the beetle’s thick carapace, but his sword bit deep into its body, staggering the beetle as it lurched forward another step, then a second, before it stumbled and fell to the ground. Benzan dropped his bow and heaved at the creature, trying to lift it enough to get to Cal.  The gnome finally appeared, looking haggard but otherwise intact, and crawled out to safety.  Fortunately the creature’s full weight hadn’t landed on him, only the edge of its shell that had dragged him down when it had finally fallen. “Thanks,” he said, trying to shake off the slicks of mud that covered his clothes.  Benzan realized that he must be visible; he looked down and saw streaks of mud and blood from the beetle covering him, partially outlining the lower half of his body. “We’re not done yet,” Benzan said, dropping the beetle and looking for his bow.  But the battle was already drawing to a close.  Lok and his newfound ally had tore into their two adversaries with equal vigor, and even as the tiefling and gnome moved clear the last shuddered and fell.  Dana had drawn her beetle into a fruitless chase, whittling it down with thrusts of her spear; finally the realization of pain had reached its tiny brain and it broke away, turning back into the forest to vanish in a flurry of scattered underbrush.  The final beetle had spent its time devouring Benzan’s horse, but now lay unmoving beside what was left of the carcass, at least a half-dozen arrows jutting from its body.  The archer who had plied those arrows now emerged from the forest, moving to join his companion beside Lok.  As the adventurers came together to face them, they recognized the strangers, among the last people they’d expected to find in this place.“Lariel!  Gorath!” Cal exclaimed.  “Tymora’s luck, your timing is exceptional, but we’d not expected to see you here!” “Indeed,” the elf archer—an arcane archer of Evereska, he’d introduced himself the last time they’d met, in another isolated place far, far from here.  He and his companion, a half-orc ranger, were agents of the Harpers, that self-appointed group of watchers who monitored the activities of evil organizations throughout much of Faerûn.  Some viewed them as heroes, others as meddlers expert at manipulation behind the scenes, but only fools dismissed them. Gorath watched them without bothering to hide the suspicion that marked his features.  He held his axes easily, not threatening but ready to spring into battle again without a moment’s warning.  They already knew him to be a man of few words, but the huge gashes in the beetle he’d slain testified to his combat prowess.  “Yeah, real lucky, that you showed up just at that moment,” Benzan added.  If the two Harpers were nonplussed at his appearance, his still-invisible form just vaguely outlined by splashes of mud and gore, they gave no sign of it.  Of course, Harpers were known as much for their lore as for their other skills, and these two had already shown that they were at least as well traveled as the companions themselves.For a moment the tension hung in the air between the two groups, then, finally, Lariel’s expression softened.  “Perhaps we should talk,” he said, gesturing a short distance down the road with his silver bow.  The six of them moved together in that direction, leaving fresh carcasses for the forest carrion to clean up in their wake.</blockquote>

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