A Day at the Beach
Log Info
- Title: A Day at the Beach
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Reva, Lysos, Randolf, Celeste
- Place: A09: Southern Banks of the Tornmawr
- Time: Saturday, August 08, 2020, 2:51 PM
- Summary: It's a relaxing and casual day on the banks of the Tornmawr, when a decripit dragonship full of zombies appears and beaches on the shore. Zombies disembark and charge the picnicers while adventurers respond. Lysos, still cursed with inverted vision, is able to see the ship and zombies clearly, as their dark aura seems bright to her. She casts spells at the ship and captain, moving, and unfortunately tripping over unseen rocks on the ground. A family of elves and orcs are beset, but the adventurers intervene and get the zombies to focus on them. Up on the bridge, Randolf draws the attention of a flying skull, a zombie vargouille, who repeatedly tries to give him a kiss and bites and headbutts him in the process. Reva takes on Zombies, and the skeletal captain, and is hit by a blast of the Dragonship's breath weapon, and then is joined by Celeste. More zombies encricle the pair of warrior women. Celeste rages, Reva acts more tactically, and while they are worn down by strenght of numbers they finally fell all foes. The dragonship seems to still be alive, but alchemcial fire is enough to set it ablaze and unable to retreat, it burns on the beach and peace is restored.
-=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A09: Southern Banks of the Tornmawr *>--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Overhead, the Highbridge spans. Here is a pleasant enough bank, if one does not mind the ship traffic amid the broad and winding Tornmawr. A few picnicers spend their time here and a few blankets are present. Many of them are craftsfolk and other "ordinary" people, as well as a multitude of tired river sailors here on break. Or, the watchful husbands and wives of sea-sailors. To the south, the great river empties into that great expanse.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-= Reva 5'10" 145 Lb Human Female A slender Aesir lady in a long red coat Lysos 5'6" 105 Lb Human/Tsuran Female Completely black eyes. Kind of creepy. Randolf 4'10" 280 Lb Mountain Dwarf Male A burly, well-dressed Khazad in wizardly robes. Celeste 6'2" 198 Lb Half-Orc Female A muscular half-oruch woman -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 267 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's hazy, hot, with a bright blue sky and towering white clouds. Midday, the shade is minimal, only directly under trees, and a small picnic canopy that has been set up. The river traffic is high, with ships drifting by every few minutes, some close, some far out on the wide Tornmawr.
Scattered around the park are several, enjoying the wind that comes in off the water, and the opportunity to relax. There's a small group of sailors, primarily goblins in striped pants, that are drinking and cooking something on a small fire. It might be rats, hard to say. There are two families, one of orcs, another of elves; the 'average person' sort of family, none seem to be adventurers or otherwise martial. A few individuals wander about, with one gliding by on the riverfront walkway on some two wheeled artifice device.
Overally, it's tranquil and restful.
Reva is taking in the sun. It's warm for her, used to the colder times in the north, and she wears her overcoat over her shoulders rather than in the normal manner. She strides gracefully along, her gaze falling on one thing, then another, as if evaluating them.
Lysos is sitting a small ways away from the river, leaning up against one of those few trees growing her. She's let her cowl fall back behind her shoulders, though the cloak remains should she decide she needs its cover again.. and her jet black eyes stare ahead of her. The lack of pupils makes it difficult to determine what she's looking at, though the direction of her gaze seems to alternate between the darker area under the bridge in the distance and the few other spots of shade scattered about the beach.
Randolf ambles along the way, the subtle breeze lofting his robe slightly and mussing his beard. Idly tamping the bowl of his pipe as he goes, a cheerful smile on his thickly-bearded face. He pauses at the top of the bridge to make a flourish with his hand, snapping his fingers. A spark of flame dances to life around his digits, and he uses it to get his pipe fired up. He leans up against the railing of the bridge, resting his elbows atop the stone as he gazes down river, lazily pulling at his pipe. He glances over the others gathered, offering friendly nods and smiles to those that pass him by.
The first one to notice something amiss is the Tsurian with the wonky eyes. For her, it seems a bright spot is forming in the sky, a swirling pattern, rotating and growing out as it does. Something glowing is forming beneath it. Then, dark bolts of energy strike the water, and a white ship appears, crewed by pale shadows surrounded by a light halo, and also covered in flickering, dark lightning bolts.
Everyone else, sees a dark tornado, strikes of lightning, then a ship formed of blackened wood. Long, thin, it slopes up at either end, starting with a carved dragon head, ending with a coiled tail. Oars jut from the side of the longship, cracked, seemingly water-logged, covered in barnacles and trailing sea-weed. It has stylized wings amidships, that shield the crew, but not from sight. At the bow stands a four-armed skeleton wearing a captain's hat, above the crow's nest, a skull flies, with a hanging spinal colomn and wings that might once have been lungs, and on the decks is a surging mass of sodden sailors. Energy crackles through them, a dark-green electrical fire, which burns in all their eyes and surrounds the oars in St. Elmo's fire.
The longship surges forward, beaching and sliding up. The crew drops over the side into the shallows and up the beach. Everyone's relaxing afternoon is ruined. The screams start.
GAME: Lysos casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+5: (12)+5: 17 GAME: Lysos rolls 4d6: (14): 14
Lysos doesn't move at first. This new perspective of hers has definitely made life interesting lately, though not often for the better. When she first sees the 'light' forming about the river, she eyes it curiously.. until it starts to get violent. Her eyes widen, revealing yet more blackness. "This can't be good.." she says, then quickly scampers to her feet. As she does, her cloak catches upon the bark of the tree behind her, ripping it slightly.. but she pays it little heed as she traces a small, runic symbol in the air.. then extends her hand towards the disembarking zombie crew. "Flambo!" A line of white fire briefly connects her hand to one of the zombies.. though, to her the line is likely pitch black.. and then the zombie falls in a heap of ash and burning dead flesh. She tries to look around, but it's nearly impossible for her to see anything besides the invading undead.. she simply has little clue, aside from the yells, where other people might be.
The zombie crew hits the water in two waves, one behind the other. They're ashore as the tsurian reacts, and one of them bursts into flame and drops to the sand. That draws the attention of the group on her side, and one charges her way.
Still, there are closer victims, and the elf family is one of them. Scrambling to their feet, they turn and run, two zombies lurching after them and smacking the mother and father hard. The children scream and try to save them.
On the other side of the ship, the orc family is making ready to fight as a quartet of zombies charge them. They were a little further from shore, the zombies don't reach them yet.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d8: (8): 8 GAME: Randolf rolls 1d4+1: (3)+1: 4
Randolf gapes as the dead man's ship comes out of nowhere. "What the...?" As the ship makes landfall and the undead begin advancing, the burly Khazad snarls. "Ohh -hell- no!" He motivates his tubby rear, trundling up the bridge as fast as his stumpy gait can carry him. As he goes, he whips the wand off his belt, pointing it towards the zombies. "Hah!" The wand fires a dart of mystic energy, slamming into the zimbie. "Take -that-, ye sod!" he growls as he pours on the speed. As best he can, anyway.
The flying skull leaves the crows nest and slowly lumps its way through the air towards Reva.
GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (14)+9: 23 GAME: Reva rolls 1d10+5: (6)+5: 11
Reva rushes up to the elvish family being menaced by zombies. It gladdens her heart that even the children are attempting to fight them off, but she says to them, "Get back, get away, help your parents get away. We will fight them off!" She may not hold any official position here, but her instincts as a warmande are to defend the home, and this is just exactly what she'd do, slashing one of them and drawing its attention from the family.
GAME: Lysos casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+5: (7)+5: 12 GAME: Lysos rolls 4d6: (14): 14 GAME: Lysos rolls acrobatics: (12)+3: 15
Lysos's 'flambos' another of the zombie sailors with another line of fire, but she doesn't wait to see the results. Not that she could. What she does see is the horrible looking, four weapon wielding skeleton advancing towards her, so she does the only sensible thing she can think of. Turn around and rush away over uneven ground among unseen people fleeing in complete darkness. Yeah, good plan. Somehow she manages to make a start of it without mishap, however, and though she stumbles a step or two as she tries to put space between herself and danger, she manages to keep to her feet and out from under others' feet on her way to another spot of shade.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (6)+4: 10 GAME: Reva spends ONE point of PANACHE. GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (17)+9: 26 GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (9)+9: 18 GAME: Reva rolls 1d10+8: (3)+8: 11
Reva parries the zombie's attack just like her husband taught her so long ago, bringing the blade across to swat the arms away from her, leaving them open to her riposte, slashing back across the zombie and severing the arms and a few other bits from the lurching monsters. It's enough, with the other damage, and the zombie falls over.
The elf children heed the swordmaiden as she steps in, and do their best to drag their parents away. With a burbling moan that gushes fetid seawater from the zombie's mouth, it turns to swing at her.
Meanwhile, the orcs appear to be holding their own, pushing back the squad on them, ducking their swings. They are orcs, but they're not skilled fighters, and only their natural skills and numbers are helping them now.
Ominously, and with a strange creaking of wood and popping of barnacles, the dragon head turns and appears to be staring straight at their little battle with wooden eyes.
GAME: Randolf rolls 1d4+1: (4)+1: 5
Randolf claps a hand down on the stone railing and swings himself around onto the stairs. He trundles down as fast as he can manage. At the first landing, he looks up, seeing the flying undead thing swooping down. He snaps his wand up. "Hah!" Another dart fires off, hitting the thing and making it screech. It turns to start winging down towards Randolf. "Oh -shit-," he squeaks. Turning, he clatters his way down the rest of the stairs. "Oshitoshitoshit..."
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (5)+7: 12 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4+1: (4)+1: 5 GAME: Flappy damaged Randolf for 5 points. 22 HP remaining.
Shooting the flying head definitely caught it's attention, it diverts and dives towards the dwarven sorceror. As it swoops in, it opens its mouth in a silent scream. The teeth are razor sharp! It seems it might once have been deadlier, with a kiss and poison, but now it is reduced, a shadow of itself, tattered wings and tendons, a dangling spinal column, held together by dark magics which give it an unsettling glow.
And those teeth are sharp, as it rips at the dwarf's beard, still trying to give him a kiss.
GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (20)+9: 29 (THREAT) GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (3)+9: 12 (Confirmed) GAME: Reva rolls 2d10+13: (17)+13: 30 GAME: Reva rolls diplomacy: (16)+9: 25
Reva has saved the elvish family, she now rushes over to save the orcs, telling them, "Flee, flee, let the adventurers fight them!" Not that a lot of orcs will retreat just because they're not warriors. All orcs are warriors. Coming up begind the zombies attacking the orcs, she catches one out of position, she lops its head clean off with a clean blow. Her blade may possibly go snicker-snick, it's hard to say with the shouting.
The captain charges after Reva, darting across the sand and throwing up rooster tails with its boney feet. She may have a bastard sword, but it has four. Four short swords. Which might matter if they hit, but the swing doesn't.
Underneath another shady tree. The tsurian can see glowy forms, falling down, but not what it knocking them down. It's like being in a black void, with the negative images of the ship and its crew floating on small lit circles of sand, grass and water.
GAME: Lysos casts Thunderstomp. Caster Level: 5 DC: 16 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+10: (7)+10: 17 (CMB)
Lysos gets her breathing under control when she sees the skeleton turn its attention elsewhere.. her pseudo-retreat idea gets shelved. Best as she can figure is that the creatures are fighting... someone or something. She doesn't pay the boat much mind, instead creeping around it a little bit to get just a little bit closer to the skeleton and his zombie crew. She puts her hand out, palm down, gathers energy... then says, "Krak!" At the same time she brings her foot up and stomps on the ground in front of her. And that's it. At least, in front of her. The ground underneath the sword wielding skeleton suddenly lurches, bouncing it off of its feet.
All orcs are warriors. All orcs will fight, seeking a good death. Without proper weapons, against undead, on a beach when the most armour on hand is the converted picnic basket, is a fine death. Not a great one, it could be better, but still worth the fight.
Although, the battlemaiden's words sink in, maybe leave it to the prepared professionals. A second consideration crosses their mind, that dragon-ship is looking at them, and there's a building darkness in it's mouth, with green electricity crackling off it as the aurea borealis builds like a halo. Something is about to happen and scattering seems like a good idea.
En masse, the orc family withdraws up the beach. A little distance wouldn't hurt, perhaps they can properly flank the zombies if they follow.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Reva... Reflex save please. DC20" GAME: Reva rolls reflex: (2)+7: 9 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 5d6: (19): 19 GAME: Dragonship damaged Reva for 19 points. 10 HP remaining.
The growing nimbus around the prow of the ship builds, until the crackling green fire concentrates and bursts from its mouth, spraying the beach where the orc family was. Reva's warning was enough for them to get to safety. Not for her, as the energy crackles and surrounds her. It flows over the zombies and the fallen captain, seemingly with no effect.
For Lysos, with her inverted eyes, she sees a glow in the mouth, surrounded by a darkness, then something also resembling a cone of negative energy, lighting up the combatants briefly.
One deck, there is the further thump of feet, then splashes in the water, as another squad of zombies emerge and stalk up.
GAME: Randolf casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15 GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+2: (3)+2: 5
Randolf lets loose a panicked cry as Flappy starts ripping into him. "GYAH! OFF! GERROFME!" he roars. He shoves the thing back and staggers back a couple feet. He pats down his beard, finding that the pristinely groomed whiskers have been torn and tangled. "Me beard..." His face turns red as a beet, and he bellows in fury. "YE HURT MY BEARD! HRAAAGH!" He makes a slashing motion through the air with his hand. "RE EX RE ANTU AKH ASCORIUS!" He flings his hand out, firing a searing beam at Flappy. But the beastie is too nimble, and ducks aside before giving another hateful screech. "Oh -shit-."
GAME: Celeste RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 10 temporary HP GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+10: (15)+10: 25 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+10: (5)+10: 15 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d10+7: (10)+7: 17 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d4+7: (3)+7: 10
And into the fray arrives one half-orc. Celeste charges in, bursting through the middle of the fleeing orc family, with her weapons already drawn. "GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWR!!" she howls, before she charges forwards, straight into whatever mass of zombies are nearest without really worrying about it too much beyond that -- the ones close to the fleeing family seem like the ones to challenge first, anyway. "RIP YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!" she screams she rushes in, heedless of the ragged appearance of her armor or the number of enemies. Does it matter? Apparently not. On the weay in she cleaves her sword through the skull of one, and swings her other arm wide, burrying her shield-spikes into another. "CRUSH YOUR SKULL AND EAT IT!!" she adds for good measure.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (8)+5: 13 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (13)+5: 18 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (15)+5: 20 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4+1: (1)+1: 2 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4+1: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4+1: (4)+1: 5 GAME: Flappy damaged Randolf for 10 points. 12 HP remaining.
Over by the bridge, the flying head keeps diving and doding, snapping at the wizard's beard, his nose, his ears, and buffeting him with its wings. Managing to avoid its teeth on his nose tip, he still feels them rip through his sideburns, then there are the slaps to the side of his head, ringing it and making his eardrums ache. It's relentless.
GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (5)+9: 14 GAME: Reva rolls 1d10+8: (3)+8: 11
Some will say it's unsporting to hit an enemy while they're down, but Reva would counter that it's unsporting for the dead to walk around, so she's got no problem with taking a swing at the captain while he's down. It's not enough to crumble the bones, but eveyr bit helps, right? Anyhow, her coat's smouldering from the ray the ship shot her with and she's not in as kind a mood as she might otherwise be in.
GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (8)+9: 17 GAME: Reva rolls 1d10+8: (6)+8: 14
The thunderstomp sent a ripple through the sandy soil, enough to throw the skeleton over as the green fire bathes the area and lights up its opponent. Then, another arrives, bursting through the orcs and laying into the zombie crew. This captain will go down with its ship, even though the ship is beached and seems to be going nowhere. The four-armed skeleton struggles to it's feet, swords slinging into position to strike.
Reva takes a stab at the captain as he rises, hacking a bit more at the horrible skeleton thing. She has it's attention, at least.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (16)+1: 17
It takes its strike, the blade whistling through the air and missing Reva.
GAME: Lysos casts Shield. Caster Level: 5 DC: 16 GAME: Lysos rolls acrobatics: (2)+3: 5
Judging from the "GRAAAAAAAAAAAWR" coming from the vicinity of the skeleton and zombie group, Lysos decides.. perhaps shooting fire into that mess might not be the best idea. "Alright, boat... it's just you and me, now," she mutters to herself. "Defendarius!" she utters, gathering energy and forming a shield before her which quickly fades, she then gathers her skirts and starts rushing towards the boat.. only to fall flat on her face on the beach as her toe catches on a stone.
The shoreline zombies charge Celeste, and one manages an attack, the others shamble into position around surrounding her and Reva. They can't attack this round.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+6: (16)+6: 22 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (1)+4: 5 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (18)+4: 22 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6+4: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7 GAME: Zombie damaged Celeste for 9 points. 62 AND 1 TEMP HP remaining. GAME: Zombie damaged Reva for 7 points. 3 HP remaining.
The zombies on the shore rush towards the small group that's fighting. One swings, landing a solid blow on Celeste, crashing down, a solid slam on her shoulder. Another, the one she stabbed with her shield, flails around. It's still impaled on the spike, and wrenching itself to attack it succeeds only in pulling off its arm. By the roll of it's shoulder, it thinks it is still attached, but the attack is completely harmless.
Not so for Reva, finding herself surrounded. While the skeletal captain seems ready to go down, some of his crew are fresh from the sea. Dripping and overwhelmed, A blow comes, hitting her, ripping some of her burnt skin.
GAME: Randolf casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 3 DC: 14
Randolf does his best to duck and cover, swatting and beating with his hands as Flappy tears at him. "AAAGH! AAGH! GET AWAY FROM ME!" he shrieks, as tufts of beard go flying. He manages to scrabble away from the monster, his leathery skin gashed and bleeding. Tottering on his feet, he makes another series of gestures. "RE EX RE SU SCUTUS!" He thrusts his hand out, palm facing forward, and a sphere of glowing hexagons whirl out around him in a ring, locking into place before vanishing with a flash. "Right, let's see ye get me -now-!" he snarls, reaching down and pulling the battleaxe off his belt. Flappy does not seem impressed, screeching at the burly dwarf. "Oh. Shit."
GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+10: (7)+10: 17 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+10: (4)+10: 14 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+5: (16)+5: 21 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d10+7: (2)+7: 9 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d4+7: (3)+7: 10 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d4+5: (1)+5: 6
Some zombie clobbers Celeste on the arm, but she doesn't notice. Or care. One of the two. "SHRED YOU FLESH FROM BONE!!" she roars, snarling and spraying spittle in front of her as she rounds on the zombies surrounding her and Reva. She muscles in as best she's able, swinging her sword at one of the undead trying to munch on Reva, and slicing off a big chunk of it. The half-orc berzerker continues raging and screaming wordlessly, as she bahes her sword into a second, and then, right there, siezes one of them by the throat and bites down hard. Had it been a living person they'd probably be dead from that wound. As she releases it, she turns sideways, chewing on something for a moment before spitting out a piece of coral.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Flappy full attacks" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (17)+5: 22 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (4)+5: 9 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (10)+5: 15 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4+1: (4)+1: 5 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4+1: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Flappy damaged Randolf for 8 points. 4 HP remaining.
The flying skull keeps battering and smashing itself against Randolf. Teeth are everywhere, the stink of the depths and saltwater are sprayed with every flap of its wings. The magic defense helps, but still the relentless assault continues as it bites. Bites and tears skin.
GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (16)+9: 25 GAME: Reva rolls 1d10+8: (8)+8: 16
Reva is a bit dazed by the zombies' onslaught, and while she's fighting on gamely, she realizes she might be in over her head. "I don't think I can keep up the fight," she warns Celeste, who is berserking, and Reva's not sure is listening and paying attention at this point. She'll have to hope. "But I'll keep going as long as I can. If I fall, take me to the Temple of Eluna." Her last wishes wished, she takes stock of the situation and lashes out with an agile slash of her blade, hacking at the captain. If she can at least bring him down, she'll feel justified as a warrior in the afterlife. So, slipping in, his guard isn't particularly good, she slashes across his chest and smashes bone and bits and with a shout of victory, she brings him down. Now that's a good fight!
GAME: Lysos casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+5-4: (15)+5+-4: 16 GAME: Lysos rolls 4d6: (17): 17
Lysos feels at her nose. "Okay. Not broken," she mutters, then carefully climbs to her feet. She stares balefully at what she can see of the boat in the darkness, then turns her head about looking for the zombie crew and its captain again. She doesn't see the captain, but she does see the zombie sailors flailing at... someone. And someone fighting back. A deep breath, and then, "Flambo!" A line of fire, black to her eyes while white to others, once more lances into a zombie and immolates it.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Reva, then Celeste's" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (13)+4: 17 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+6: (5)+6: 11 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+6: (13)+6: 19 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+6: (6)+6: 12 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+6: (4)+6: 10 GAME: Reva spends ONE point of PANACHE. GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (1)+9: 10 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6+4: (6)+4: 10 GAME: Zombies damaged Celeste for 10 points. 53 HP remaining.
Slimy, stinking, seamen. The worst combination of rotting flesh and rotting fish. The zombie's moans are a bubbling gush stale seawater, when their lungs and bellies don't burst and simply splash it down their legs. Covered in barnacles, seaweed, looking more like encrustations than the people they once were, they lumber and swipe at Reva and Celeste. The pair are surrounded, and while they have no where to go, their opponents fight poorly, miss often.
One swings at Reva, and while her blade catches, its attack doesn't land. Celeste is less fortunate, one of the creatures manages to rip at her with coral-like claws, but the others fail to strike.
GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+4: (17)+4: 21 GAME: Randolf rolls 1d8+2: (5)+2: 7
Randolf is... not looking well at all. One eye has swollen closed, blood pours down his face, making a -terrible- mess of his beard. His robes are fluttering tatters, and he pants for breath. If not for those wizardly robes, he'd look more like his fighting kinsmen than a wizard. "Ye haven't... got me... -yet-... ye bastard... HRAAAGH!" Stepping forward, he heaves his axe with all his strength. The dwarf-crafted blade bites deep into Flappy's rancid hide. "HAH! How d'ye like -that-, ye ram-shaggin' shite?!" Flappy demonstrates just how -much- it likes that by turning and screeching at the dwarf. "Oh -shit-..."
GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+10: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+10: (4)+10: 14 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+5: (20)+5: 25 (THREAT) GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+5: (10)+5: 15 (Confirmed) GAME: Celeste rolls 1d4+7: (3)+7: 10 GAME: Celeste rolls 2d4+10: (3)+10: 13
Celeste might've gone full berzerk, but even through the haze of rage she's not unaware of what's going on around her. She's well aware of the condition Reva is in, and the half-orc gladiatrix is doing her level best to keep the attention of the undead on, well, herself. Unfortunately that means she nearly drops her sword when she swings at the one still focusing not on herself. Still, she at least manages to just about bowl one over, and then sink her teeth into another so dip she rips off basically its entire face.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (9)+5: 14 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (18)+5: 23 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+5: (9)+5: 14 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4+1: (1)+1: 2 GAME: Flappy damaged Randolf for 2 points. 2 HP remaining.
'Flappy' did not like being slashed by the battleaxe. With a silent scream it swoops towards Randolf, intent on tearing his throat open, perhaps, tearing his head off to make it like is. However, it's razor sharp teeth miss, and one tattered wing barely buffets him. It looks as bad as he does, with swollen bulges, strange calcified growths, and a small eel that squeezes out and lands at his feet. It could learn a lesson or two, from the way Celeste removes faces.
GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (10)+9: 19 GAME: Reva rolls 1d10+8: (5)+8: 13
Reva has a bit of breathing room now with the captain down, the zombies aren't as much of a threat. She avoids another attack, most of them seem to be attacking the berserker, and she won't complain. She brings the big sword around and with a flick of her wrist, she cuts down the zombie that was attacking her, and she allows herself a moment's breathing space before looking for her next target.
GAME: Lysos casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+5: (7)+5: 12 GAME: Lysos rolls 4d6: (9): 9
Lysos carefully picks her way closer to the boat again, war of every time she puts her foot down now.. who knew there were so many rocks?!? A part of her brain wonders just how silly she might look, stumbling around blindly in broad daylight.. but the majority of her focus is on getting just close enough to the boat to, "Flambo!" Her magic fire scorches its hull.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+6: (14)+6: 20 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+6: (12)+6: 18 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (12)+4: 16 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+6: (13)+6: 19 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+6: (12)+6: 18 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6+4: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6+4: (6)+4: 10 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6+4: (4)+4: 8 GAME: Zombies damaged Celeste for 34 points. 19 HP remaining.
The zombies continue to flail on Celeste, and this time almost all their strikes land. She is barely punched or slapped before that shoves her into another attack, that slams her into another. They've surrounded her, and are beating her down, and in this instance it the tide seems to have turned.
The ship meanwhile does not like getting scorched. The prow whips around, opening a maw full of splintered teeth, snapping in Lysos' direction. It's oars row through the air, attempting to propell it forward. It's beached, it's going nowhere, wallowing like a stranded seal.
Which would kill, if only someone got close enough.
GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+4: (14)+4: 18 GAME: Randolf rolls 1d8+2: (5)+2: 7
Randolf grits his teeth, wavering as he stands before the undead monster. Dwarven blood patters onto the pavement like rain. His life flashes before his eyes as he hovers on the very brink. Nearly an entire century ago, when he pleaded with his mum and da, to let him leave the clan-hold, to come to Alexandria to study the Art of Magic. "Mum, da, please! Don't ye see? I'm not -like- Randall! I'm no a fighter!" Slowly, he lifts his weary head. "Hrr... hhh... nnn.... nngah... nrraaAAAAAGH! REOS TAKE YE!" he thunders. He steps forward, hauling back and bringing his axe down upon Flappy's filthy head. The monster's eyes get wide, and its rotted lips mouth a silent 'oh shit!' before the blade slams it down to the ground. Wrenching his axe free, the desperately wounded dwarf turns his attention to the rest of the melee. "WHO ELSE WANTS SOME?!" he roars at the top of his lungs, pounding his wand-clutching fist to his chest. Perhaps he's more of a fighter than he ever gave himself credit for.
GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+10: (6)+10: 16 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+10: (2)+10: 12 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+5: (6)+5: 11 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d10+7: (7)+7: 14 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d4+7: (1)+7: 8
Now Celeste reaps as she has sown; she has spent so much effort getting the combined attention of the zombies off of Reva and on to her, that she has... succeeded, unfortunately for her, and now she's getting assaulted like it's going out of style. So she does the only thing one can do in this situation; she takes it like an absolute champion. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!!" she screams as she lays into one of the zombies with her sword, just about bisecting its abdomen. "WEAKLINGS! SMASH YOU IN HALF!" she spits, as she bashes another one with her shield with a sickening crunch of all the ribs breaking, all at once. Oooh. She snaps her jaws at one, failing to actually get her teeth on it, which... might be a good thing, actually.
GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+11: (4)+11: 15 GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+8: (7)+8: 15
Reva takes a tactical moment now that the berserker is fully engaged, and she actually has the time and ability to move around a bit. She sidles over and behind one of the zombies attacking Celeste. It's a bit injured, and with a fast slash from her bastard sword, it's no longer moving. Nice and tactical, that's a bit more her style.
GAME: Lysos casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+5: (11)+5: 16 GAME: Lysos rolls 4d6: (13): 13
Lysos once more gathers up energy for another 'Flambo' shot at the boat... after this one unleashes, however, she leans forward, arms on her knees, not quite gasping for her breath. "Hooo. "
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (2)+4: 6 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (7)+4: 11 GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (13)+9: 22 GAME: Reva spends ONE point of PANACHE. GAME: Reva uses an AoO! 0 remaining. GAME: Reva rolls 1d20+9: (6)+9: 15 GAME: Reva rolls 1d10+8: (4)+8: 12
The invading horde has been reduced to two zombies. They lurch and stagger in the sand, and take their swings at Celeste, with one turning instead to go after Reva. Movement, after all, draws their attention. The barbarian is unaffected, and the one swiping at the swashbuckler leaves itself painfully open to a counter.
Reva now is in the position to draw some zombies back off Celeste, and though she's bleeding from several cuts, she's got a steely determination in her eye. When the zombie turns to come after her, she'll block the attack with her long blade, then slash back across the zombie's middle, spilling it open, and it collapses in a pile.
The ship creaks, it's planks groan, more encrustations pop off the hull as it wallows in place. The prow whips around, the head again glaring at the mage setting it on fire. It lunges in her direction, not close. Not close enough. Beached and immobile, it's more like a sitting duck than a proud dragonship.
GAME: Randolf rolls 2d4+2: (4)+2: 6
Randolf trundles down the remaining stairs and hits the ground running. As fast as a tubby dwarf -can- run, at least. Sure, he may be on death's door, but his ancestral dwarven fury is kindled and hot in his breast (or is that internal bleeding? Hard to say...) Skidding to a halt, he lifts his wand and makes a flourish. "RE EX RE UR EKISOS! HAH!" This time, when he points his wand, -two- glowing blue darts burst from the tip in rapid succession, strobing as they slam into the last zombie.
GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+12: (12)+12: 24 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+12: (4)+12: 16 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d20+7: (5)+7: 12 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d10+7: (7)+7: 14 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d4+7: (4)+7: 11 GAME: Celeste rolls 1d4+5: (4)+5: 9
"NOW YOU DIE!" Celeste screams. Reva has cleared out most of the remaining foes in the immediate vicinity or herself and Celeste, and now there's just one remaining. Celeste makes good on her... threat? Statement of fact? Her sword plunges deep into the zombie's abdomen, leaving a gash that spills its inards. Her shield crushes its ribs, and she finally burries her teeth deep into its face. She wraps her sword arm around its back, holding it in close as her just crush the bones in its nose -- which she swallows, as she lets the ruined body drop to the ground, looking around with violence in her eyes.
"ALRIGHT," she snarls, heaving a deep breath. "WHO WANTS TO BE NEXT?"
Reva gives Celeste a thumbs-up as they team up to take out the horde, but that thing's still on the beach, and it did something to her that she didn't understand and definitely didn't like. So she'll hustle up the beach and let the bookish types deal with strange eldritch things from the backside of hell.
Well, all that's left right now is the ship. Celeste reluctantly takes a step back, and lets her battle-frenzy dissipate. She backs off along with Reva, and takes a knee, panting heavily as she bleeds and recovers. "Well fought," she acknowledges, looking up to Reva and giving her a nod. "You are a worthy ally. I hope I will have the pleasure of fighting alongside you again."
GAME: Lysos rolls knowledge/arcana: (12)+7: 19 GAME: Lysos rolls spellcraft: (17)+8: 25 GAME: Randolf rolls knowledge/arcana: (2)+11+2: 15 GAME: Randolf rolls spellcraft: (3)+9: 12
Lysos stands in, what to her, is darkness. Having witnessed what she assumes is the destruction of the last of the zombies as they fade from her sight, she starts to suddenly feel exposed. She puts her hands out a little to her sides, a little to her front as she turns to put some distance between her and the boat. "Uh.. Hello? Is anyone still out there?"
The ship is still there, looming in front of her in the darkness, a negative image of itself, surrounded by a pale, glowing halo. Hints of the waves are visible, lapping at its sides and the nearby shore. The eyes in the prow glow white crackling halo'd electricity. It seems to beg, step closer, just a little closer.
The Orc family returns, the patriarch giving a gruff salute to Reva and an apology. "Thanks. You fought well. Your warning was well timed. Next time I won't leave the sword at home." Words Lysos can distantly hear, though no one is speaking to her.
Then an ice-cream is pressed into her hand, and a small voice says "Thanks," before it vanishes.
Reva smiles to the orc family and nods about not leaving the sword at home. "It is a tough decision, but saving your family should be worth as much glory as fighting the undead." Of course with orcs, the values are weighted to value the fighting more than the saving, but she can at least offer a human perspective. Then an ice cream is thrust upon her, and she beams to the child. "You are very welcome," she replies gravely. And eats the ice cream.
Randolf pants for breath, his legs wobbling underneath him. He goes down to one knee with a grunt, leaning heavily on his axe. He looks towards the others, fighting to keep his head from spinning. It isn't working. "Is... gnnh... is anyone else hurt...?" he manages to grate out. But dwarves are a tough bunch, and he's certainly one of those. With a gasp, he pushes back to his feet, tottering over to where the others are standing.
"Thanks." The orc grunts, weighing the weight of his actions and the human perspective. Finally he says, "Made it a better one for you, good job. Good tactical lesson for my kids too, something to explain." They drift off, the patriarch finding ways to turn this into a useful lesson about fighting and smooth over his lack of participation.
"We're all hurt," Celeste points out, "But fortunately, the only corpses on the battlefield are those of our enemies." She pauses, rising back to her feet. She rolls her shoulders beneath her armor, before sliding her sword into its scabbard and slinging the shield across her back. "Any battle that ends that way, is a good victory." She nods towards the orc, then looks back out into the darkness. "OVER HERE!" she bellows towards Lysos. "Mind the bodies!"
Lysos slowly and carefully makes her way towards the conversing folks, made easier by Celeste's call. And mind the bodies she does.. as best she can, carefully toeing ahead before committing to a step. "Hello.." she calls again, clearly walking like a blind person might. "That boat is spelled... magic. And maybe cursed. I think someone's going to have to run and fetch a wizard or a priest to deal with it. Or maybe an axe."
Of course, the word 'axe' gets turned more into an 'aaaahhg!' as Lysos, despite her care, manages to find one of said bodies. She actually manages to recover after a momentary stumble. Sort of. The stumble takes her right into the path of another of the bodies which succeeds where its partner failed, leaving the tsuran sprawling upon the ground again.
The ship isn't going anywhere. It tries, rowing forwards to push itself up the beach, perhaps bring itself in range of something it can bite. When that doesn't work, it reverses, oars slapping air, flinging sand, a couple splashing small waves. It's stuck, ludicrously so, and if it weren't for that breath weapon which might go off again at any time, or its sheer size, it would be an amusing sight. As it is, it's an unsettling one, an objecting moving in a way that suggests its alive when it clearly isn't.
Randolf shakes his head, grunting. "Axe? Aye, I got one o' thuh... one o' tho... oh, piss up my -arse-, me head..." He fumbles to get his wand holstered. It takes a few tries to get the baton into its frog holster. But once that's done, he's able to rest a bloodied palm against his temple. "I dinne suppose... nnh... any one o' ye got some healin' magic...?"
GAME: Reva rolls 1d6: (5): 5
Reva looks to the others, then looks at the boat. "It's a boat, right?" She'll sidle closer, off angle, so it doesn't breathe on her again and she chucks a vial of alchemists fire toward the ship, where it smashes and lights.
The Achemists fire splashes across the prow and inside, the ship lighting up in flames. Somewhat disturbingly, the prow is able to twist around and keep facing Reva even as she lobs the device. It can't reach her, but it wants to. Rivulets of flame run down between the cracked boads, beneath the seaweed and other crusts that have grown and accumulated on it.
GAME: Reva rolls 1d6: (4): 4
Lysos scrambles to her feet, a little less carefully than before.. but seeing as how she tripped on a body that was dead for who knows how long, and recently trying to kill people, can she truly be blamed? "Stars! Stars and omens!" She steadies herself, then resumes her careful walk. "I'm not healer," she admits, having caught Randolf's query.
Reva will back away after having hurled the vial, and she will help the others in the standing and finding their way without falling over. "We all need healers, I think," she says. "We'll head down to the Temples in a few minutes."
At first it seems the fire has gone out, that the ship is too wet, the flames to cool. The glow from the alchemical fire fades away. Except, the ship was heavily scorched by the mage's rays, the timber is old, and the flame finds purchase. Glowing embers grow brighter, new flames spread, and then they interact with the magic and curse that permeates the vessel. It suddenly erupts in an eldrich green flame, shot through with black, allowing those with both normal and reversed vision to see it engulfed.
The flames grow higher and higher, up the mast and sail, and the oars writhe within the conflagration like the legs of a dying insect. The dragonprow seeks the party, and one last gout of magic erupts from it, forming a ball of green energy that lobs through the air and explodes on the ground. Short, of the party, far short of them, but its hatred was strong.
Magic guts thrown out, the ship returns to normal wood and is consumed, burning to the waterline, leaving a large smouldering pile where the picnics were, and the back half breaking off and disappearing into the depths of the shipping channel.
It's deadly cargo unloaded, it is gone.
The sudden and violent eruption of eldritch energy startles Lysos into stumbling backwards and landing on her rump. She just stares, though at this point there is little to stare at as the regular fires just sap away whatever 'light' she had. "Or I suppose that might do it.." she finally says. "Whatever it was."
Randolf's eyes get wide as tea-saucers as the ship goes up and it launches that last ball of hate and spite. He ducks, but the flaming hate-ball doesn't go nearly far enough. As the ship is consumed, he slowly straightens. And immediately regrets it. "Akk--!" He claps a hand to his shoulder, which is still oozing blood from where Flappy tore a chunk out of him. "A-aye... think a Temple visit is just what we're wantin'..." With a shaking hand, he holsters his axe. "This. -This- right here... is why I dinne want te be a figh..." His gaze drops to his tattered and torn robes. Eyes get even wider as he sees just how bloodied and hurt he actually is. And now that the battle high is passed, he's starting to feel it. "Oh sweet holy Reos an' all 'is crazy wee nephews," he groans, starting to shake from head to toe. His skin turns white as milk, and he totters unsteadily on his feet. "C-could someone... catch me...?" he manages to whimper, before he topples onto his back. Landing unceremoniously with arms and legs splayed. Tiiiiimberrr!
Dramatis Personae=
Celeste
The visage of Celeste Cinderfall is nothing short of imposing. The half-oruch stands just over six feet tall, and carries herself with a stature that is not to be trifled with. Her dark brown skin is stretched over lean, corded muscles that have clearly received a great deal of work. For all this she is not ungraceful in her movements; not some over strong clod, this one, but a balanced athlete.
Her face is more or less like a human's. She has deep, crystal blue eyes with long lashes, beneath thick eyebrows; her right eye has a freckle, just below the pupil. Her strong nose sits above a set of full lips; visible in the corners are her gleaming white lower canines, that stick out like small tusks. Her long hair cascades wildly down over her shoulders to her waist, and kis ept meticulously dyed a deep, blazing red. When she hasn't tended to it recently and the roots show, her natural color can be seen as a stark white. Between the locks of hair emerge her long, pointed ears, each pierced with wide, golden hoops.
Around her neck, she wears a couple of loose leather cords, docrated variously with beads, teeth, and claws. Her shoulders are proportionate to what you would expect a woman's to be like, though her musculature is consicerably more toned and taught than most people's. About her shoulders and torso she wears a ragged portion of scale mail. The metal components have long since gone dull past the point of repair. She wears it much like a poncho over most of her ample bosom. Her belly is left bare, and several claw marks scar her skin around her navel. Her right arm is heavily tattooed; white, tribal-style angels writhe bright orange flames. Her left forearm is marked with white runes, up the length of her bicep. On her right shoulder she wears a heavy, iron pauldron; on her left, the cured hide of a wolf's head. A ragged black cloak hangs across her back, worn and dusty from travel. Slung across her back is a heavy round shield, made of steel and decorated with a bronze chevron; slung underneath of it is a blood-stained trident, mounted on a seven foot haft.
Below her navel, her powerfully muscled legs make up just over half her height. About her hips she wears a damaged but serviceable kilt, made from overlapping straps of leather with metal scales for protection. Slung overtop of it is a loose leather belt, supporting a small variety of bags and pouches. Her thighs are bare; her left one bears claw marks, dissimilar to those on her belly. Upon her feet she wears rough leather boots that come to just above her knees; the right one is decorated with several heavy, mis-matched iron plates.
Lysos
A Tsuran of average height and the typical olive skin of her people. Dark, wavy hair is mostly tamed by a leather thong binding it behind the base of her neck, though a few locks remain free to frame her face. A mouth that seems to want to smile, but doesn't dare. Dark eyes both wary and tired, not quite haunted but far from care-free. Overall an expression that suggests she expects the worst.
Clothes are what would be expected on a traveler. A brown leather vest worn over a dust-stained cotton blouse. Brown woolen skirts, divided for riding and walking, and soft traveler's boots. The clothes don't quite fit, like if someone were expecting to grow in to them. Or didn't have much of a chance to adjust them.
Reva
This human woman is Aesir, so somewhat taller than average, standing almost six feet tall in sturdy, 2-inch bootheels. With a slender, whipcord build that speaks of natural speed, she moves briskly, with a lithe grace, like a mailed fist wrapped in silk. She has fair skin and a clear complection, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. Her hair is worn long, and flows freely down her back past her shoulderblades. She's dressed mainly in blood-red suede, from a long coat with poofy shoulders and brass chains and clasps over a burnished chainmail shirt, itself worn over a red vest over a frilled white shirt. The shirt is closed up to her throat, and fastened there with a small black silk bow. Her red pants, matching her coat, are belted with a brown leather belt at her waist. Another belt slings down across one hip, where a tooled leather scabbard holds a main gauche, and a sword belt is slung over her shoulder and under the opposite arm. A long, slender bastard sword is there, with an ornate hilt and guard, with a gemmed pommel, in a black scabbard worked with polished brass. The coat conceals the sword from casual view, but it's apparent after a moment's glance. The coat continues loosely past her hips, flaring as it falls to her knees. Black leather gloves and boots are long - the gloves reach her elbows before flaring out, and the boots are thigh high before being turned down. Stylized red lightning forks along the low-heeled black leather boots. Atop her head is a strange sort of hat of red suede, like a homburg, but with a deep cleave leaving the crown split into two front-to-back, and a broad, upturned brim.
Randolf
Here stands a proud specimen of the dwarven race. A broad, bear-like figure, well seasoned and aged, yet unbowed by the passage of time. His face bears a well-bred, patrician cast, a sure sign of noble breeding. Broad and square, his bluff features are rugged and windburned, tanned and leathery from long days spent out of doors. A thick mane of dark, rich auburn hair is worn pulled back in an unruly ponytail. His beard is full and lush, luxuriously groomed and manicured, reaching his chest and bound in a thick tail by a silver beard ring. Distinguished silver strands are just beginning to become visible, showing the dwarf to be knocking on the door of middle age. His nose is broad and strong, and the rounded points of his ears are just visible through his shaggy red-brown mane. He wears a golden ring in his left ear, made of pure gold. His voice is a low, rumbling bass, and he speaks with a distinctive dwarven burr.
A thick, bullish neck leads down to a broad, thickset torso. Burly and barrelled, it's topped by a pair of shoulders half again as broad as the average human. His arms are thick with knots of muscle, sporting cannonball biceps. His forearms are thick, sinewy affairs, ending in large, meaty paws. His knuckles like chunks of gravel, with a penchant for cracking audibly. Moving back to center, there's no narrowing as his torso leads down to his waist. He sports a hefty musclegut, but the soft layers do little to disguise the stalwart power hidden beneath. His hips are wide and firm, leading to thighs like stone columns. His feet plant firmly on the ground, his heavy, lumbering tread an audible thing.
His attire is well-appointed and stylish. A shirt of dove-gray wool is worn beneath a blue-and-green plaid tartan. A wink of gold draws the eye to the finely-wrought clasp that holds the heavy fabric over his shoulder. A broad leather belt around his broad waist bears a finely-tooled sporran, and numerous pouches. A frog holster keeps a broad-bladed battleaxe at his hip. The weapon is immaculately maintained, with dwarven runes worked in gold along the blade's edge. Tucked into his belt near the holster, a sleek wand of glossy black ebonwood, featuring an finely-crafted silver grip. Sturdy fur-lined boots are worn on his feet, with a broad-bladed dagger tucked into the right boot. Over it all, he wears a loose robe of fine green linen, trimmed in gold. Atop his head, he wears a dwarven bonnet cocked at a jaunty angle, with a golden cockade featuring a polished cabochon-cut ruby and a broad plume. He can often be found with a broad-bowled, bent-stem billiard pipe tucked in the side of his mouth. When actually smoking (which is often), the smoke carries a rich, fragrant scent of vanilla and honey, surrounding his head and shoulders like a bank of fog.
The dwarf's expression is stern and stalwart, his keen gaze glancing hither and yon beneath the hang of his shaggy red brows. He lumbers about his business with a slow, casual swagger. He radiates power, confidence, aggression, and authority, tempered by keen insight and intellect, along with a healthy dose of pure dwarven machismo.
Combatty Stuff
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| Name | Race | Class | CHP | HP | AC/FF/T |CMD |For |Ref |Wil |
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|Celeste |HALF-ORC |Bbn | 53 | 62 |19/16/11 | 23 | 6 | 4 | 3 |
|Lysos |HUMAN |Sor | 27 | 27 |13/10/13 | 18 | 2 | 4 | 5 |
|Randolf |MOUNTAIN_D|Wiz | 4 | 27 |11/10/11 | 14 | 5 | 2 | 4 |
|Reva |HUMAN |Swb | 3 | 29 |19/15/15 | 19 | 3 | 7 | 2 |
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| Name | CHP (T) | HP |
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| Celeste.......| 19 | 62 |
| Lysos.........| 27 | 27 |
| Randolf.......| 2 | 27 |
| Reva..........| 3 | 29 |
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===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 2 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
26 Lysos 1
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18 Ship & Crew 1
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17 Randolf 1
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17 Celeste 1
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15 Flappy 1
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11 Reva 1
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>> 9 Captain 1 <<
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