ONE HUNDRED FIFTY FIVE
(I/C)
Shouldering his way to the front, Abraxas slid in front of the Lyra, Morrigaan Scythe up and out, blade forcing the closest undead back half a step. "Priestess, fall back. Let Señor Killvid y Yo take it from here.”
Taking advantage of the swap, Lyra took up the space right behind Kovid, flexing her shoulders and grimacing, “OW. What the fuck - ow. Is this what you guys are feeling every day?”
The closest undead tried to push beyond the two fighters but they locked shields and began laying about them with their silvered weapons. “Guard THIS, Monostro!" Abraxas cheered with a wicked slash.
"Glad you could join us Abraxas!” Kovid laughed with good cheer. “Let's see what your girlfriend's weapon can do.... Lannis, got any more pink hocus pocus?"
Already waving his hands together to summon another mystic dart, the magic user replied, "I do Kovid, but they are not infinite."
Abraxas had the opportunity to use the Scythe in battle (>+6 to hit, Blue 16) and was not disappointed as the silvered weapon blew through the Guardian’s defenses with little effort, scoring a deep and wide slash across the withered puckered shambler’s skin (1d8+3 damage, Blue 4, 7 Damage!). “Ha!”
The dwarf made sure his attack was on the same foe, his Hammer smashing an outstretched hand aside and then (>+3 to hit, Yellow 17) smacked into the creature’s arm (1d8+2 damage, Yellow 1, 3 Damage) hurting it but Kovid knew it wasn’t a solid blow. “Thor’s Anus, that stinks!”
“It was a hit,” Lannis muttered, “A shitty one, but a hit. IN BET GRAV!” and the air ripped ahead of him (1d4, Pink 4!) and buried a smoking pink ensorcelled dart into its neck. But it was still standing and swinging.
From the back corner, his infravision fixed firmly south, Wyn muttered low enough for Brendon to hear him, "I dunno if I mention dis yet... but Wyn 'ates de undead."
“Join the club,” Brendon sighed, silver dagger still out.
The wounded one finally had a chance to make a concentrated attack against Abraxas (>+5 to hit, Red/Black 11) battering the big fighter but his skill and shield was too much to overcome. The other at the front tried to hit Kovid (>+5 to hit, Black 4) but the dwarf just shrugged off the slams, his shield banging like a metal drum in the midst of the battle.
As for the third Guardian, it stayed back, maybe 20’ from the front line, looked around, picked up a 3# rock the size of a softball, arced its arm back, and HURLED it (>+3 to hit, White 18) into the fight. “Abraxas!” Lyra tried to yell in time but the priestess had never heard of a lower order undead using a missile weapon before and her warning came a moment too late (1d3 Damage, White 2 – Abraxas take 1 Damage!) as the heavy stone smacked the fighter on the helm just over his temple making his helmet ring and his to curse, “Whadafuq?!” as he watched the rock bounce off his head.
“Corfard will use your corpses as his plaything,” the wounded Guardian hissed, its voice sounding like ground glass and pain.
“Corfard will your corpses as his plaything.” The others echoed, filling the hall and the two of them continuing their assault on the party.
(Bottom of round 2: WMC: Red/Black 1 (thanks Kelly!). What?: White 6 – Giant Rats. # Appearing 2d6: 6+2, 8. Distance? (2d6)x10’: (4+5)x10 = 90’ – all the way down hall @ corner)
(Wyn Hear Noise: =Orange 3. <Brendon Hear Noise -5%: Red 07).
The elf was idly watching the fight when he tilted his head and looked south, eyes flaring with full infravision. The hall was still greenish warm/cool and no heat sources, but he thought… maybe…
“Hey.” The elf literally jumped and grabbed his chest, looking at Brendon who had snuck right next to his and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Sacre blu! Don’t do zat!”
“Sorry.” The Scout frowned, head tilted, his human eyes searching the gloom. “I was sure I heard something.”
“Oui! Me too?” The two of them tried to drown out the sound of the fighting and were able hear the pitter patter of running feet. Lots of running feet. From south and echoing and running towards our direction. “At least 6?”
“More,” Brendon said, slowly sheathing his silver dagger and fingering his bow. “I’d say 8.”
“Oui,” Wyn looked down at his silver dagger and shook his head. “And zey are no the small squeak squeak of ze little field cheese eatin’ mouse.”
“No.” The Scout took a deep swallow, seeing the fight down the hall was far from finished. “I’d say giant. Rats. Giant Rats.”
“Merde.” The two of them figured they had 1 round free, but the next round would see the 8 giant rats at melee range. A look at the combat to the east (Wis:=Orange 10, <Red 2!) let them know that Kovid, Abraxas and Lannis were engaged, and Lyra. Lyra in full chain with a shield, and her compliment of club and Ishtari Rod, could stand before them so they could try and get multiple volleys of arrows. “Oi! Priestess! We gonna need you for a little bit over here!”
Time now is Day 5, 7:07 AM
(OOC)
Starting round 3. 8 Giant rats running will NOT make melee range this next round, but will be about 30’ from whoever is set up in the corner. Infravision range is 60’, so keep that in mind, and Brendon you can shoot into the dark at red animal eyes but you’ll have a -4 to hit. Everyone else at the Guardian side, the wounded one has 2 hp remaining, and one of them is hanging back and chucking rocks instead of clogging the hall with his shambling self.
No comments:
Post a Comment