Clockwerk Connundrum
Log Info
- Title: Clockwerk Connundrum
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Lysos, Barclaiigh, Randolf, Ravenstongue, Skielstregar, Telamon
- Place: A14: Artificer's Hall
- Time: Sunday, April 03, 2022, 2:36 PM
- Summary: Two Constructs are fighting for control of the Artificer's Hall and adventurers are called to intervene. Before the contact can fully explain the situation, he knocks himself out and the adventurers are left to figure and battle things out without assistance. A fireball blows the doors off the Hall, and the constructs agree to join forces and attack the 'flesh monstrosities'. Battle Ensues, with a melee minion appearing and causing some damage before falling. Both constructs are impaired by multiple applications of glitterdust, while Skielstregar and Barclaiigh fight in fireworks. Ravenstongue is drained by the necromantic construct, before both are put down by a combination of Randolf's lightning bolds, Telamon's magic missiles, and some sold blows.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A14: Artificer's Hall *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The Artificer's Hall rests slightly off the ground, supported on all sides by eight strong, if nonfunctional legs. The entire Hall is carved from an ancient automation of a giant arachnid. While at one time--many eons past--it may have been functional, today it is a hollowed-out shell of its former self, with rooms made for professors' offices and class rooms. The Hall itself may be accessed by a stairway that leads up, and up...and up through one of its many legs.
Once inside, its appearance is anything but a mechanical spider's guts. With ceilings of polished stone and artifice-metal, the Hall possesses the same, ominous acoustics as any grand cathedral. Twisting, jointed arches of metal reflect its true form--as a great, massive structure hosted within an arachnid's mechanical belly. Everything is dark and metallic, with seams barely visible where pieces have been welded together. The whole building pulses every so often with a hum of energy, powered by a kind of arcane force scarcely comprehended by the outside world. Yet, the energy seems almost gobber-chaotic.
The centre of the building is a great octagon, with eight, great halls leading away from its core. Decorating its core are stained glass windows. They add to the almost holy ambiance. Instead of leading to the outside world, each shadowbox displays life-sized figures enact scenes from Alexandria's past from the Artificer's perspective. They display feats of Building, Achievement, and Experimentation. Towards the north is one depicting the Forge of the World. It depicts what is thought to be a snapshot of the tower at the center of the World Engine, the god's planar home.
The whole of the complex includes dormitories and construction rooms, where artificers compare notes, ideas, and puzzle over the grand works of history. These buildings spawn from the Central Hall in an almost arachnid fashion, connected by walkways of dark steel and overseen by golem guardians.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Lysos 5'6" 105 Lb Human/Tsuran Female Dark eyed tsuran girl. Barclaiigh 4'5" 202 Lb Mountain Dwarf Male A thick tree-trunk of a dwarf. Wavy auburn hair, loose traveling clothes. Randolf 4'10" 280 Lb Mountain Dwarf Male A burly, well-dressed Khazad in wizardly robes. Ravenstongue 5'0" 99 Lb Half-Elf Female Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair. Skielstregar 7'2" 330 Lb Sith-Makar Male A brilliantly silver scale with fangs and empty eyes. Telamon 5'6" 140 Lb Half-Elf Male A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
>>FLASH!<< >>BOOM!<< --fweeeeeeeee-- >>FWWOOOOM!<<
Fireworks erupt from the Artificer's hall, shooting out of holes and creases of the giant automaton, lighting up the exterior as the expanding balls of sparks glitter in the sunlight and rain down. It's beautiful, and loud.
A small crowd has gathered at a safe distance to watch.
"Move back! Move Back! Adventurers are coming through!" A gnome in artifice armour is gesturing at the crowd. With the power-suit activated, he's at least 5' tall. Large open-palms gesture for more space. His eyes, behind purple goggles, latch onto someone in the crowd, "Are you an adventurer? You look like one! Here's the situation. Ah... ahh... aaaaaah. An experimental device was accidentally activated and we need you to go in there and shut it down."
"Oi'm not an a'venturr, ahm an orphan, and please sah, I don't want any more!" Said orphan wriggles back into the crowd and vanishes.
Randolf comes lumbering down along the way, his steps slowing as he hears the whizzle-pops and cracker-bangs going off. "Och, there some sort o' festival goin' on?" he mutters as he peers around. Eventually he finds himself before the Artificer's Hall. Eyes get wide as he sees that pyrotechnic display. The gnome soliciting help from adventurers has the burly dwarf rubbing his face. "Hammer an' anvil. Ye all crossed the streams -again-, didn't ye? Yer worse'n gobbers, I swear tae Reos," he grumbles. He squares up his shoulders, pulling his wand off his belt and whipping it through the air a few times to limber up. "A'right, shut down the flash-bangin' machine. Seems easy 'nough." He turns to head in, but pauses with one foot raised in mid-step. He looks back to the gnome. "That... that's -all- that's amiss, right? There's nae sort of insane widget or contraption in there waitin' tae assimilate us intae the Great Clockwork Overmind Collective or anything?"
Telamon and Ravenstongue. They seem to come as a matched pair, and there's something to be said for a sorcerer duo with a few adventures under their belts.
Tel's comment, of course, is rather impish. "And I thought today would be boring and quiet. Finish the spring cleaning, get some new linens for the bed, maybe see if Grandfather's interested in dinner tonight." He watches the fireworks pinwheeling out of the Artificer's Hall, in various colors, with a barely concealed smirk.
He looks to Raven, winking at her. "How about it, love? I think the Adventurer's Guild will pay for dinner tonight and then some."
Skielstregar is looking a bit tired as he has a comically small tome clutched between two fingers. "... some dream journal..." he grumble rumbles as he passes by the hall before there's explosions going off
He jumps, scrabbling back some as there's shouting towards his vague direction. "Uhh, uh, y-yesss! Yesss, thiss one can... can do that!"
...
"... what'sss a... don't expect it to be in one piece."
Telamon's comment causes Ravenstongue's violet eyes to sparkle as she grins back at him. "Sure, how about we give it a shot?" she says. "It's been a bit since the two of us have gotten into some trouble together."
"Oh brother," Pothy complains from the safety of Ravenstongue's shoulder. Now only does he have to deal with a lovey-dovey half-elf couple, he doesn't have /any/ snacks--and he's not interested in the kind of nuts that the Artificer's Hall typically has on hand.
Ravenstongue looks up at Pothy with a snicker. "Promise, we'll get /the/ most delicious dinner for you after this, Pothy."
All of the feathers on Pothy's pale chest puff up. "Adventure, ho!" he declares. It only took a food bribe to get him to agree.
With his small eyes as wide as they'll go and his mouth set into a static 'o,' Barclaiigh is enjoying the show. Especially the little ones that go fweeeee and then pop, poppity-poppity-ppppppp-pop! The light show that plays non-stop through his armor and makes his spear glow a gentle green is nothing in comparison.
Tattooed sausage fingers push up his simple wooden circlet so he can rub at his forehead and he blinks himself awake at the call for adventurers. Both hands work at sorting his chaotic mane of wavy auburn hair so he can settle the simple crown back in place.
Good thing Porter isn't here; he can bearly stand thunder.
Slap, slap, slap go the Khazadi druid's sandals as he catches up to Skielstregar. "Howdy! Been lookin' fer ya," he grins his guileless grin. Then his face flops into a deep frown, "Dire portents'n all'a that. Dream stuff, I mean t'say. Reckon we don't put the cart afore the horse, though," he stops talking long enough to give an appreciative 'ooooh' to the artifice armor.
Lysos just wanted to enjoy her food. Granted, eating it while strolling by in this neighbourhood was probably the second of her bad decisions. Some sort of bun and meat and sauce concoction bought from a vendor of dubious repute was probably the first. So all in all, it's possibly a good thing that the fireworks startled a dog whose panicked fleeing knocked over a display which in turn caused a dwarf to jump out of its way, bumping into Lysos and causing her to bump into the back of a large woman in front of her, meal first. She stumbles a way, lunch now worn on her front.. and the other woman's back.. and her eyes go wide before quickly utters a word and goes invisible before the amazon sees her.
Then quietly, ever so quietly, she creeps over towards the small group of adventurers gathering up, fading back into sight as she uses minor magics to carefully strip the questionable food from the front of her dress, melding in with them as a way of 'hiding' from possible retribution. "That's right," she says, managing to speak without her eyes shifting at all. "Adventurers. That's what we do."
GAME: Lysos casts Invisibility. Caster Level: 9 DC: 19 GAME: Lysos casts Prestidigitation. Caster Level: 9 DC: 17 GAME: Barclaiigh casts Goodberry. Caster Level: 5 DC: 16 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 2d: (7)+2d: 7 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 2d4: (3): 3
"How did you...?" The gnome blurts at Randolf, then immediately clamps both hands over his mouth. A problem, as those two hands are as large as push-carts and can easily knock over a gnome. He's knocked over and out, twice, ending up flat on the cobbles with a stunned expression while the geegaws and dials whirl on his suit.
"Ah told you venturin' was dangerous." An orphaned voice calls from somewhere.
"WHO DARES INVADE MY LAIR!" A voice booms from inside the giant spider.
"Them do! They're going in!" That dang orphan starts up a chant. "Go! In! Go! In!"
"GO! IN! GO! IN!" The crowd is on board with this.
GAME: Randolf casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 8 DC: 15
Randolf's jaw drops as that voice booms out. He slaps a hand to his face, slowly dragging it down. "Because I'm a sodding adventurer in sodding Alexandria," he says to the dazed gnome. And then there's the crowd chanting at them. "Oh -now- they love us. Piss up my arse," he grumbles into his beard. He glances over to his friends, trundling over to Telamon and RT. "Oy, you lot. Guess we got us some sort o' nasty bot tae shut down." He looks over at Skiel, tapping the side of his nose in agreement with the sith. "I'm wi' you, laddie. Technology run amuck belongs in the scrap heap." He turns back to the great mecharachnid edifice of the Hall, squaring up his shoulders. "-I- dare!" he roars back. "Get yeself ready, Rustbucket! THE DWARVES ARE ON YE!" He quickly casts his defensive shield with a flick of his wand and a sternly barked invocation. "Re ex re su scutus! LET'S GET IT ON!!"
GAME: Barclaiigh casts Longstrider. Caster Level: 5 DC: 16
"Reckon it'll be interestin' if nothin' else," Barclaiigh mumbles, looking over his shoulder and around at the folks chanting. All the attention makes him blush as he's digging his necklace fetish out from under his ensorceled breastplate. The wood token and boar's tusks rattle as he fingers them, chanting in the low guttural cant of the druids.
Little zephyrs gust around the dwarf, cavorting in tight circles down by his feet and speeding his heel-slapping sandals as he makes for the stairs. The wildman draws his spear as he goes and does his best not to trip while half the city is watching him.
<OOC> Telamon says, "Cast Mage Armor, move to 18,18." GAME: Telamon casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 7 DC: 17
"Who -talks- like that?" Telamon complains, hands moving in practiced motions. "Akar irhandi," he intones, and a shimmer of blue-white force appears around him before fading. Seeing Barclaiigh striding towards the stairs, he falls into step next to the dwarf. "So, place any bets? Deranged gnome? Unhinged construct? Restless undead? Or annoying huckster running a con that's spinning out of control?"
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 9d6: (26): 26 GAME: Telamon rolls reflex: (15)+5: 20 (vs DC14 - Success) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Reflex: (1)+3: 4 (EPIC FAIL) (vs DC14 - Fail) <OOC> Telamon says, "Also, if this is a fire/cold effect, I have resist fire and cold 5." GAME: You damaged Barclaiigh for 26 points. 13 HP remaining. GAME: You damaged Telamon for 8 points. 23 HP remaining.
>>BOOOM<<
The front doors to the artifice hall explode in a ball of fire. Fireworks... fireballs... not unexpected. As the doors are between the mandibles of the giant spider construct, it almost looks like it's breathing fire, and shards of door.
The dwarf druid takes the brunt of it, while Telamon is able to shelter behind him, somewhat.
Deep inside the beast, a mechanical form moves, lightning arcing around it.
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 7 DC: 16 GAME: Skielstregar rolls spellcraft: (5)+6: 11 (vs DC15) GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Spellcraft: (10)+12: 22 (vs DC15) GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (1)+11: 12 (EPIC FAIL) (vs DC15) GAME: Randolf rolls Spellcraft: (19)+15: 34 (vs DC15)
"Careful, love!" Ravenstongue finds herself calling out to Telamon as she witnesses him getting a burst of fire... Well, not to the face. <Sylvan>
In fact, half a second later, she realizes Barclaiigh has taken most of the flames. "Oh, dear! Barc, please be careful! Let Telamon take the flames, he's somewhat fireproof!"
It's a joke. Partially.
There is a shower of sparks on either side of the door-frame. At first glance, they seem to be malfunctioning mechanisms, something that opens and closes the doors. Leftover fire and sparks from the fireball.
Except, they're too consistent and persistent. They are Snapdragon Fireworks spells. Mostly harmless, mostly, as long as you don't stand in them.'
GAME: Skielstregar casts Expeditious Retreat. Caster Level: 7 DC: 13 <OOC> Skielstregar says, "drawing halberd while moving, swift action for arcane strike"
Skielstregar shakes his head, he didn't like what was going on and frankly he didn't have the knowledge to deal with it. But metal buried into something tends to make it stop working.
He shields his face as an explosion of sparks spray out, only to counter with a, "Alright, alright, thisss one will go..!"
The growled word makes black ichor coat his legs from the knees down, and it propels him forward, bounding up the steps and leaping past the sparking entrance.
Inside the hall of the artificial spider, there's a long corridor up the centre, and several spiral staircases on either side to higher levels. These higher levels have catwalks and iron grating floors, allowing an almost unobstructed view. It's possible to see into workshops, offices, any space where the owner didn't put down some flooring to block line of sight.
This makes it a partial panopticon, everywhere inside the dome of the carapace is visible to a degree.
"It is not your lair! It is my lair!" Another mechanical voice, near the front and high inside, up to the left calls. "Get it my minion!"
Clanking steps follow.
"No! Wait! Get that! Instead."
A dark purple beam arcs out from the construct's finger, pinpointing Skielstregar.
GAME: Skielstregar rolls fortitude: (20)+8: 28 (CRITICAL SUCCESS) GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (1)+11: 12 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Skielstregar rolls spellcraft: (12)+6: 18 GAME: Randolf rolls Spellcraft: (12)+15: 27 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Spellcraft: (10)+12: 22
It is firing a ray of Blindness.
GAME: Lysos casts Protection From Energy. Caster Level: 9 DC: 20 (Fire)
Fire. Of course it's fire. Lysos takes a glance behind her... the amazon woman is only now just discovering the mess of sauce and 'meat' on her back. She quickly averts her gaze, looking ahead again. Somehow, the fire seems less scary. She hikes up her skirts, scurrying up behind the toasted dwarf man.. wrinkling her nose at the smell of burning hair, she quickly traces out a shield in the air above him, faint blue lines leaving traces of the power she's gathering, before she releases it in an incantation. "Firawarden!"
GAME: Randolf casts Haste. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17
Randolf trundles up the stairs, ducking and bobbing and weaving to avoid errant sparks and licks of flame. Once he reaches the top, he makes a grandiose flourish with his wand. "RE EX RAYA ZOS ALLEGROS! HAH!!" He snaps out his wand, conjuring ghostly images of rotating clock-faces above everyone's heads. Their hands whirl speedily for a split second before they vanish in a flash. "There ye go, friends, make it count!" he booms.
<OOC> Barclaiigh says, "I'll go to 19,11 with the haste move and CLW my lightly-singed self." GAME: Randolf rolls Knowledge/Military Theory: (17)+6: 23 (vs DC15) GAME: Lysos rolls knowledge/military theory: (19)+4: 23 (vs DC15) GAME: Barclaiigh casts Cure Light Wounds. Caster Level: 5 DC: 16 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d8+5: (3)+5: 8 GAME: You damaged Barclaiigh for -8 points. 21 HP remaining.
It's looking like a mage heavy fight, with possibly a melee or two.
Wearing a breastplate that seems to be half-constructed from fire one might think Barclaiigh would have some sort of aptitude at avoiding and/or enduring flames. Sadly, you'd be wrong. Maybe if it were manufactured from the scales of dragons? ... but we don't do that hear.
The explosive wash takes the Khazadi druid's eyebrows and thins his mane and bushy beard, leaving him singed and smoking. The enchantments offered by Lysos will help in the future, hopefully!
More druid chanting accompanies the dwarf as he sandal-slaps his way up the stairs and further in, warm glow and knitting vines healing the worst of his wounds on the way.
GAME: Telamon casts Glitterdust. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL) (blinded)
Telamon curses loudly in Oruch as the fireball washes over him. Poor Barc takes the brunt of it, and even Tel is a little singed. "Alright... clearly we're not going to have a diplomatic solution here..." Slapping away the lingering smoldering spots, he watches Skiel and Barc sprint past, as well as Randolf. "Lana! Stardust and fairy dust!" Then he's up and moving, running in behind the others and gesturing. "Mulan ukum!" A spray of silver and blue sparkles rocket from his hand, settling over one of the deranged constructs, blinding it and outlining it in glittery fabulousness.
"Join forces with me to defeat these flesh monstrosities!" The first construct shouts. It is a spikey looking affair, with two tall antennae that an electric arc walks up above it's head. A jacob's ladder, from which smaller arcs circulate around it's frame.
"No! You join forces with me!" The second construct calls out. This one has a fearsome mask, large gaps in its frame, and tubes that seem full of strange plasmic energy that pulses between green and purple.
"I will never submit! You would betray me!"
"You would betray ME!"
"Then it's settled!" Both constructs echo each other, mechanical voices in perfect synch, "We work together THEN destroy each other."
Followed by, "Curses! I'm blind," and some chuckling from upstairs.
GAME: Skielstregar rolls reflex: (17)+4: 21 (vs DC11) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Reflex+1: (20)+3+1: 24 (CRITICAL SUCCESS) (vs DC11) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4: (2): 2 <OOC> Lysos says, "It will absorbe 108 points of fire damage. Energy Resist Fire"
The showers of sparks at the doorway relocate, and suddenly Skielstregar and Barclaiigh are surrounded by jovial bursts. Except, they sting, and are a little dazzling, but not for these hardened adventurers!
Immunity and resistance to fire helps too.
Small swirling air currents are visible around the construct's spikes, forming into a gust of wind what whooshes down the hallway.
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Fortitude: (14)+7: 21 (vs DC13) GAME: Telamon rolls fortitude: (19)+4: 23 (vs DC13) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (11)+7: 18 (vs DC18 - Success Not blind)
The dust is blown from its eyes.
<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "I'd like to 19,13 and glitterdust the enemy at 18,5 just to ruin his day a little more." GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (20)+7: 27 (Reflex Save) GAME: Ravenstongue casts Glitterdust. Caster Level: 7 DC: 17
Ravenstongue is never one to turn down a view of her beloved's backside as she runs just to behind him. "Here comes the fairy dust!" she replies before launching into an incantation, golden sparkles showering down onto the antagonistic construct again. However, it doesn't seem to stick.
At least the view is nice.
"Oh how I glitter!" The even more sparkly sparky construct cheers.
GAME: Skielstregar RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 14 temporary HP <OOC> Skielstregar says, "power attack, furious focus negates" GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21+2: (4)+15+2: 21
"Get them Minion!" The other construct orders, and a spider-bot finishes clanking down the spiral staircase and moves closer.
Skielstregar growls as more sparks fly onto him and zap, sting, and sear. "Ssseriously?" he huffs. He steadies his weapon, black ink dripping from it and wafting from the ground. "Okay!"
The transformation into a Forgotten isn't as violent as usual, it's just a quick puff of necromatic miasma and he's racing off towards the construct. Double fangs bared with crimson eyes. "Come on, piece of scra- ack!"
He slips on his own ichor, and the blade goes wide.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Okay! If you want to be more of a target, roll intimidate," <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "if you want to be less of a target, roll bluff or stealth, DC20" GAME: Telamon rolls bluff: (8)+17: 25 (Success, -1) GAME: Skielstregar rolls intimidate: (9)+12: 21 (Success +1) GAME: Ravenstongue rolls bluff: (13)+13: 26 (Success -2) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Stealth: (6)+-1: 5 (Fail, no mod) GAME: Randolf rolls Stealth: (19)+1: 20 (Success -1) <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Skiel 1-4, tela 5-6, barc 7-9, randolf 10-11, RT 12" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d12: (9): 9 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Will: (13)+9: 22 (vs DC11) <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "okay, shaken. Spellcrafts if you want DC11" GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (15)+11: 26 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Spellcraft: (18)+12: 30 GAME: Randolf rolls Spellcraft: (10)+15: 25
A pale green beam arcs out from the second construct, threaded perfectly through the floor grates and strikes Barclaiigh. For a moment, his eyes light up, pupils turning green.
Cause Fear.
<OOC> Lysos says, "I will move to 19,14, hit the spider with scorching ray." GAME: Lysos casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 9 DC: 19 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+7+1: (3)+7+1: 11 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+7+1: (15)+7+1: 23 GAME: Lysos rolls 4d6: (14): 14 <OOC> Lysos is going to use her ability, it was meant to be, to reroll the 3. GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+7+1: (14)+7+1: 22 GAME: Lysos rolls 4d6: (15): 15 GAME: Lysos refreshes special ability pools. GAME: Lysos spends ONE use of IT WAS MEANT TO BE.
Lysos conintues to follow the others.. into the chaos, sure. But it would pay to note that she makes sure she's /following/... and staying presumably safe behind everyone else. She settles in somewhat between and behind Randolf and Ravenstongue, then raises a hand to release another bit of collected power. "Flambo!" Twin beams of bright white fire split the air briefly, no longer than half of a heartbeat, connecting her to the construct, scorching and deforming a part of its chassis... but it will take sterner stuff to fell this creature.
<OOC> Randolf will focus fire with Lysos and hit the spider with a Scorching Ray. GAME: Randolf casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 8 DC: 16 GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+6: (10)+6: 16 GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+6: (9)+6: 15 <OOC> Randolf will re-roll his second. GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+6: (13)+6: 19 GAME: Randolf rolls 4d6: (7): 7 GAME: Randolf rolls 4d6: (18): 18
Randolf ducks a shower of random sparks, clapping his hand atop his bonnet to keep it from flying. "Gah!" He narrows his eyes, whiskers bristling furiously as he ducks and weaves. He cuts a swift pattern with his wand, booming an incantation. "RE EX RE ANTU AKH ASCORIUS! HAH!!" He snaps his wand out, firing off a pair of searing molten-orange rays in quick successions. PSHEW PSHEWWWWW! Large chunks of metal plating slag off of the skittering mecharachnid, but it remains up. "Oh come on, ye clanky git! Fall down a'ready!"
<OOC> Barclaiigh says, "Standard to wild shape into a wolverine adn then move to 19,6." GAME: Barclaiigh spends ONE use of WILDSHAPE.
"Danged--!" Barclaiigh chokes out a quiet growl, a bit of spittle flecked on the singed hairs around his mouth. His breathing is faster than he intends and his heart is racing. "What in tarnation is actually goin' on'n here!?"
Tiny eyes narrow through the chaos to find Skielstregar looming over the offending construct and he forces out a quick blast of an exhale. His hair grows out, thickens, and spreads to every inch as his manufactured items just blending away beneath the new fursuit. His face stretches into a blunt snout and the tattooed, fat fingers turn into claws that glitter like moonlit silver. The Barverine gnashes its teeth and bounces across the hall to reinforce the sith-makar in melee.
<OOC> Telamon will sprint around to 12,7 (yay haste movement buff) after scorching the spider. GAME: Telamon casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18 GAME: Telamon rolls ranged+1: (17)+5+1: 23 GAME: Telamon rolls ranged+1: (13)+5+1: 19 GAME: Telamon rolls 4d6: (14): 14 GAME: Telamon rolls 4d6: (16): 16
Telamon mutters a curse. "Scatter, folks, we don't want to get caught in another fireball!" He points at the spider-construct, and incants, "Ganzer agida!" Two lines of orange-white flame stab out, driving deep into the construct and leaving drops of melted metal on the floor, as the half-elven sorcerer swiftly moves away from the creature. Catching sight of the other construct-magician, he hmms. "I have an idea..."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "SparkyBot 5' steps back, uses move action to move the fireworks," <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "and attacks Skielstregar with a spell" GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Reflex+1: (9)+3+1: 13 (vs DC11) GAME: Skielstregar rolls reflex: (14)+4: 18 (vs DC11)
The spider-bot is glowing white and red, panels are buckling. Despite this a shield spins into existence even as it staggers in place.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 5d4+5: (12)+5: 17 GAME: You damaged Skielstregar for 17 points. 72 HP remaining.
Barclaiigh says, "Has anyone tried identifying the constructs?"
The scent of ozone and a high pitched hum increase. Bolts shoot out at Skielstregar from the spikes that coat the construct. They move with unerring accuracy, each striking the sith'makar.
As the construct steps back, two more fireworks burst immediately in front of it, making a barrier of sparks.
No on has tried.
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (7)+15: 22 (vs DC20 - Success) GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/arcana: (2)+9: 11 (vs DC20 - Fail) GAME: Randolf rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (5)+17: 22 (vs DC20 - Success)
The constructs are Clockwork Mages, powered by a wand. Typically, these don't have personalities. Have some damage resistance and spell resistance. Adamantine is necessary to punch through their casings.
The are vulnerable to electricity. Typically.
<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "I'm gonna lightning bolt the fella at 18,4." GAME: Ravenstongue casts Lightning Bolt. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+7+2: (3)+7+2: 12 (+2 Spell Pen, vs SR 20) <OOC> Ravenstongue says, "Using my reroll." GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+7+2: (12)+7+2: 21 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+12: (19)+12: 31 (Reflex Save) GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 7d6: (20): 20
Ravenstongue rushes forward, spurred into supernatural speed by Randolf's magic. Pothy protests a little as he sits on Ravenstongue's shoulder. "Slow down, slow down!"
It's her next action that particularly worries Pothy, however. She lifts a hand in the air, her braided hair raising as she murmurs a brand new incantation--
And a crack of lightning bursts from the fingertips of her raised hand, piercing into the construct's defenses, although not fully. Ravenstongue seems satisfied. It's the first time she's ever cast it, after all.
<OOC> Skielstregar says, "17,5 cryo, dont wanna stand in that," <OOC> Skielstregar says, "full attack, power attack, furious focus, arcane strike!" GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21: (1)+15: 16 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21-5-2: (16)+15+-5+-2: 24
Skielstregar's is battered with unerringly accurate bolts, though they splash against him as he pivots around the side to bring up his halberd.
The colorless blade hums an unsettling dirge as it comes down and-
>Clank<
"Come on!" Skiel growls, putting a foot against the wall to rip free the weapon before spinning around crash it into the construct. It makes contact, but it's just steel on reinforced steel, and it leaves nothing more than the paint scratched.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Lysos, but do you want your bad luck to apply and the spider-bot go for you, Lysos?" <OOC> Cryosanthia nods, "okay. it hits twice with the shield and does a slam attack GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+19: (14)+19: 33 (Shield attack) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+14: (14)+14: 28 (Shield attack) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+19: (4)+19: 23 (Slam attack) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d8+9: (4)+9: 13 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d8+9: (2)+9: 11 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6+4: (2)+4: 6 GAME: You damaged Lysos for 30 points. 14 HP remaining.
With a whrrr and a lot of rattling, the spider-bot steps up, raising its shield, ready to swing at Randolf. At the last moment, its mechanical eyes glow brightly, and it switches focus, orienting on Lysos.
SMASH SMASH SLAM!
It beats her with its shield, a forward strike and a backhand, and then it punches her. All blows land, all are solid.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d12: (12): 12 (using the same random chances as last time - Ravenstongue) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+20: (12)+20: 32 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Fortitude: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL) (vs DC14 - Fail) <OOC> Ravenstongue says, "Is it possible to spend RPP to reroll that?" <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "well, you could, I generally suggest not..." <OOC> Ravenstongue says, "I have plenty." GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Fortitude: (7)+6: 13 (vs DC14 - Fail) <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "almost every time I have, I've failed, and every time Braelnoir has, she's failed, and..." <OOC> Ravenstongue shrugs. Lesson learned! <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "eeef. Okay. Spellcraft to know what hit her." GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (4)+11: 15 GAME: Randolf rolls Spellcraft: (1)+15: 16 (EPIC FAIL)
Meanwhile, up on the third level, the other construct pans, choosing a target.
It settles on the most innocuous looking one. Take out the low hanging fruit perhaps. A pale beam flies from its fingertips, hitting Ravenstongue.
She feels cold, tired, all her life and energy draining out of her. An overwhelming feeling of exhaustion pushing her towards the floor, making her weak and clumsy.
The Ray of Exhaustion was right on target.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Lysos, spider bot in the face" <OOC> Lysos will cast a spell defensively. GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+9+7: (2)+9+7: 18 (Concentration vs DC21) <OOC> Lysos says, "I'll use my reroll" GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+9+7: (13)+9+7: 29 (Concentration vs DC21) GAME: Lysos casts Force Punch. Caster Level: 9 DC: 20 GAME: Lysos rolls 9d4: (23): 23 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+4+1: (15)+4+1: 20 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (9)+3: 12 (Fort Save)
Lysos panics, plain and simple. "Forzare!" she all but screams, thrusting her hand forward, slapping her palm against the spider construct in an attempt to ward the thing away, at the same time releasing the power she hadn't even thought about drawing in. The power explodes out of her palm, slamming into the construct even as she backpedals away, stumbling, bleeding and bruised... and the spiderbot promptly explodes. It took too much structural damage from the combined fire from the three arcanists... too much head warpings its armour, stressing the technology holding it together... and it simply blows apart. Large chunks of armour plating and internal gidgets go flying, mostly in a line leading away from Lysos.
GAME: Randolf casts Lightning Bolt. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17 GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+8: (6)+8: 14 (vs SR20 - Fail) <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "since it is vulnerable, I'll say you can do the half extra you would have done, so roll damage" <OOC> Randolf is pretty much useless for the rest of this fight so... guess I'll move a up a couple squares and ready my battleaxe. GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+12: (20)+12: 32 GAME: Randolf rolls 8d6: (32): 32
Randolf yelps as that mecharachnid goes flying down the hall--with heated metal bits bursting off it from the telekinetic impact and coming -disturbingly close- to him. But now that one bot is down, he turns his gaze on the one down the hall. He lifts his wand and sketches a quick pattern. "RE EX RE INCARDO LEVINTAS!" he booms, snapping his wand out. A bolt of lightning arcs from the tip of his wand and into the bot's chassis. Little flickers of electricity dance over its shell, but much of the charge grounds out harmlessly. "Oh, piss up my -arse-, these things can resist magic!" he growls angrily. With a huff, he pulls his battleaxe and starts trundling forward. "Every bloody -time- I swear tae fuckin' -Reos-!"
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls melee+1+1+2-1: (19)+6+1+1+2+-1: 28 (+1 for wildhsape str, 1 for haste, 2 for flank, -2 for PA) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d6+6: (6)+6: 12 (13 magc and silver) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+18: (10)+18: 28 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4+3: (2)+3: 5 GAME: You damaged Barclaiigh for 5 points. 16 HP remaining.
The Barverine flinches back, ducking its snout close to the ground as electricity tears through the air between he and Skielstregar. Chittering to draw the sith-makar's attention, the oversized mammal lopes the short distance to earn a rough kick from the spell-flinging construct!
The varmint turns, lips pulling back in a deep throated snarl before the silvered claws flash in to tear away at some of the plating on the clockwork thing's flank. There's a cough of satisfaction as he drops back to all four and continues a circular prowl to look for another opening...
... and then there's Porter! The black bear comes bounding up the stairs and into the peculiar construction with a crash! His breath is hot on Randolf' and Lysos' backs as he huffs and snuffles smelling his Khazadi companion's blood on the air.
<OOC> Telamon says, "How, ah... structurally sound is the platform ClockNecro is standing on? I see he's 20' up." GAME: Telamon casts Fireball. Caster Level: 7 DC: 19 GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (7)+12: 19 (vs DC25 - Fail) GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+7: (2)+7: 9 <OOC> Telamon spends reroll. GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+7: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "yes, roll damage, I"m looking up building hardness and hp" GAME: Telamon rolls 7d6: (30): 30 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "okay, I'll say that's enough, the metal gratings warp and break and it falls 20'" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+12: (18)+12: 30 (Necro Reflex - Lands on feet/treads) GAME: Telamon rolls 2d6: (5): 5
That's not how it's supposed to be. Telamon was trying to bait the other construct-wizard's fire, keep it from harassing Skiel and Barc as they tag-team the sparking construct. But then Cor'lana lashes out with lightning, only to be struck by that beam, and Tel's vision goes red and white. His scream of rage rolls across the building, as he reaches out with hooking fingers.
"Ganzer lipisbala gaz," he chants, hair standing up, floating as if in a breeze as a spark of blue-white fire forms in his hands. Then he gestures, and the missile rockets up and across to slam into the railing where the second construct stands. The detonation, the roar of flame. The classic fireball.
And while the construct's innate resistance to magic defeats the spell... the grating is not so lucky. Collapsing, dumping the golem-mage twenty feet to the ground unceremoniously as Telamon faces off against it. "Your wards will not save you forever." he growls in Celestial.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Sparkybot 5' steps diagonal out of the flank, move action to relocate the fireworks," <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "more MM, 2 on Skiel, 2 on Barc, 1 random" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d12: (2): 2 (2 = Skielstregar) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 3d4+3: (10)+3: 13 GAME: You damaged Skielstregar for 13 points. 59 HP remaining. GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 2d4+2: (5)+2: 7 GAME: You damaged Barclaiigh for 7 points. 9 HP remaining.
V-vVv-Vv-vv-vvv!
Electrical sparks fly from the spiked construct. It seems momentarily overcharged and discombobulated. It trundles back, away from the sith'makar and wolver-druid. As it does, fireworks again explode in the spaces near it, making approach difficult.
There is a whrrr, like some overwrough gattling gun, it rapidly fires magic missles, two striking the wolverine, three hitting Skielstregar.
"At last!" It cheers, as the other construct falls down through the grating to crash on the floor, "You no longer have the higher ground!"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Ravens, exhausted, what do you want to do?" <OOC> Telamon says, "(Hilariously, she is still hasted, which at least counteracts the movement penalty)" GAME: Ravenstongue casts Lightning Bolt. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+7+2: (20)+7+2: 29 (vs SR20) GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 7d6: (28): 28 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+12: (17)+12: 29 (reflex Save)
It's a beam that fires at Ravenstongue, and she finds herself murmuring a prayer to Navos.
"Please--I know I haven't been the best follower, but--"
And her plea to her god goes unanswered. She may not have died, but there's something else within her that does. It feels like she did back in Rune--where the world was tiring. Exhausting. She doesn't want to be around people anymore. Doesn't want to be here anymore. Just... lie down. Take a nap. It's easier to give up.
And yet there's Pothy in her ear, croaking at her. There's Telamon bellowing in anger.
People are still fighting. So Ravenstongue raises a shaky hand, and once again, she conjures up lightning. She breaks through the ward her other half couldn't. And while that construct still stands, she says, "I am the daughter of the Feathered One. You will not break me that easily." Violet eyes flare with conviction. <Sylvan>
<OOC> Skielstregar says, "second verse, same as the first, step forward and try to hit this guy with a full attack." <OOC> Skielstregar says, "can't leave barc alone or he'll be ded, to 16,4" GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21: (12)+15: 27 GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21-5-2: (1)+15+-5+-2: 9 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "hit and miss" GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage21+6+2: aliased to 1d10+10+6+2: (6)+10+6+2: 24 (magic and ghost touch)
Skielstregar grits his teeth as the rattling machine gun of artifice magic pounds against his frame. He jumps through the sparks and crashes his blade down against the construct, getting some bite into it but not finding much purchase. Lightning is being flung about. Yelling and words of last stand.
"The theatricsss are nice and all but CAN SOMEONE TELL THISS ONE WANT TO HIT THESSSE THINGSS WITH?!" he shouts back into fray.
GAME: Telamon rolls fortitude: (19)+4: 23 (vs DC13) GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (2)+11: 13 (vs DC17 - fail) <OOC> Telamon says, "It's maaaaa-gic."
"I... st... st... st... have the greater intellect!" The dark bot stutters, the fall having shaken something loose. A finger is raised.
Telamon is selected.
A pale beam hits the sorcerer in his face, casting a sickly pallor across his skin. His eyes briefly glowly, then fading.
There was seemingly no effect.
With a rattling of treads, it rolls towards him.
<OOC> Lysos would like to throw Porter at the Necro with telekinetic charge. The spell lets me lift him over obstructions. <OOC> Barclaiigh says, "FASTBALL SPECIAL!" GAME: Lysos casts Telekinetic Charge. Caster Level: 9 DC: 21
Lysos hears the huff. The breathing. She turns around... and freezes when she see the bear. "So this is how it ends." There's a moment peace upon her; the panicked moments from earlier have left her worn, the cuts and bruises left her hurting... the knowledge that it's over is almost relaxing. But part of her brain keeps moving, at least, taking note of the bear's armour. Its peculiar claws. The way it isn't immediately mauling her and the dwarf wizard beside her. Connections get made. The other dwarf turning into an animal. Wildman. Animal friend. Hope. Knowing that this is either her final moment of life, or inspirational improvisation at its extreme, she takes a chance. She points through the rubble at now ground level construct recovering from Ravenstongue's lightning. "Attack! Kills! Chew its face off!" she says, waving her arms. Of course, the bear probably doesn't understand human. Then, power gathered once again, she takes a breath and reaches forward.. releasing the energy as she says, "Allioopay!" The bear is lifted off of the ground, over hers and Randolf's head, then as she moves her hand as if to throw, the bear is sent hurtling through the air towards the necroconstruct.
<OOC> Lysos says, "Porter gets to use an immediate acction to attack the Necro, with a +2 bonus to hit." GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8+2-1: (20)+8+2+-1: 29 (THREAT) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8+2-1: (18)+8+2+-1: 27 (Confirmed) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 2d8+18+4: (11)+18+4: 33 <OOC> Ravenstongue says, "BEAR MAULS ROBOT TO DEATH, MORE AT 11" <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "rips off a piece of the construct" <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "for that, you get to break one of it's slam attacks." GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+14: (10)+14: 24 (Grab)
Porter is angy! There's far too much of Barclaiigh's blood on the air. When the spell begins to lift him it doesn't even give him paws; he's on a trajectory for vengeance and things are about to turn grizzly. If anyone expect an absurd result they're awarded the polar opposite: massive damage!
A ton of snarling black bear slams into the construct and takes a bite out of crime! Wait. Wrong animal.
He's hear to prevent forest fires!
<OOC> Randolf says, "Move up to 19,6 and I'll throw my last Lightning Bolt at horny-boi." GAME: Randolf casts Lightning Bolt. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17 GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+8: (2)+8: 10 (vs SR2) <OOC> Randolf says, "Saw that coming." <OOC> Barclaiigh says, "You use your reroll already, Randy?" <OOC> Randolf says, "Yup." <OOC> Randolf says, "I have less than 50% chance to beat a SR20 anyway." GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+12: (6)+12: 18 GAME: Randolf rolls 8d6: (24): 24
Randolf skips out of the way as Porter goes barreling by. Blink blink. "So -that- just happened," he says. "Good timin', Porter!" He turns and trundles down the hall, juking over to the side. He snaps out his wand to fire another Lighting Bolt. The electrical arc grounds out once again, leaving the construct largely unharmed. "A'right, ye clankin' shite, let's see how ye like an AXE TAE THE HEAD!" he thunders.
<OOC> Barclaiigh says, "5' to 18,2 and full attack with haste, PA. Gonna go bite, claw, claw, claw" GAME: Barclaiigh rolls melee+1+1+2-1: (18)+6+1+1+2+-1: 27 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls melee+1+1+2-1: (6)+6+1+1+2+-1: 15 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls melee+1+1+2-1: (18)+6+1+1+2+-1: 27 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls melee+1+1+2-1: (7)+6+1+1+2+-1: 16 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d4+7: (2)+7: 9 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d6+7: (2)+7: 9 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8: (16)+8: 24 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8: (6)+8: 14 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8: (9)+8: 17 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d8+6: (5)+6: 11 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "grab attack for the bite?" GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+14: (3)+14: 17 (vs CMD 33) <OOC> Barclaiigh says, "eh, reroll" GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+14: (19)+14: 33 (vs CMD 33)
The Barverine hops in place and pivots, issuing a pleased sort of noise at Porter's arrival. He hops again and skitters the short distance to put his back against the wall. He's blooded, burned, and half of his striped auburn fur is standing on end from the electrical attacks. He growls again and turns into a blur of flashing silver teeth and claws that scratch and squeal across the metallic hide of the clockwork man.
Porter, meanwhile, presses his own attack, taking firm hold of the construct between his teeth and biting down, hard. A plate collapses and steam escapes, cogs grinding to a halt as the creation is held firm in place.
"Unbite me beast! I am your intellectual superior. I conduct twenty dozen kiloflips a mini second." The dark necrobot shouts, struggling in Porter's grasp.
<OOC> Telamon moves to 15,6, and Glitterdusts necrobot. GAME: Telamon casts Glitterdust. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (2)+3: 5 (Will save - blind)
Telamon faces off against the mechanical monster. Briefly, he hopes Lana will be okay. When the pressure stabs against his eyes, he grits his teeth, glaring at the construct. "I see further than you, you heap of junk." Ready to fight and die if needed.
And that's when Porter piles into the golem like a catapult-load of fur, claws, teeth, and seriously bad attitude. Tel actually recoils in shock as Porter proceeds to beat on the thing like it owes him cash money, and he takes the opportunity to scramble away, gesturing as he goes. "Mulan ukum!" he yells, spewing glittery particles into the construct's 'eyes' and blinding it.
He reaches down to grab Raven's arm. "Come on, love. There's still work to be done here."
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d12: (1): 1 (Random target - Skiel, +2 2 MM on Skiel, 2 on Barc) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 3d4+3: (10)+3: 13 GAME: You damaged Skielstregar for 13 points. 46 HP remaining. GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 2d4+2: (5)+2: 7 GAME: You damaged Barclaiigh for 7 points. 2 HP remaining.
"You fools! All you're doing is buying time!" The spark-bot shouts, trundling diagonally again, out from between Skielstregar and Barclaiigh. The fireworks move too. Telamon and Ravenstongue find themselves in the centre of colourful, exploding sparks.
That are just a bit stingy.
Continuing to make the whrrring noise, more magic bolts are fired at the sith'makar and the wolverine, with perfect, painful accuracy.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Telamon, Ravenstongue, it's 1d4 fire damage and reflex save DC 11, fail is dazzled" <OOC> Telamon straight up takes no damage (fire resist 5). Rolls save. GAME: Telamon rolls reflex+1: (18)+5+1: 24 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Reflex-3+1: (15)+6+-3+1: 19 (-3 penalty, and a +1 bonus from Haste) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4: (4): 4 GAME: You damaged Ravenstongue for 2 points. 36 HP remaining. GAME: Ravenstongue casts Haste. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18
Ravenstongue nods to Telamon's statement, that fire still in her eyes despite her exhaustion. "Skielstregar, they're constructs powered by wands. Vulnerable to electricity--which is why I've been trying to hit them with lightning! Magic warding, super annoying," Ravenstongue calls out. "Here, you and Porter need some help!"
She flicks her wrist and casts the same supernatural-movement spell that Randolf cast earlier onto the group, moving away from the source of sparks afterwards.
Skielstregar inhales deeply as he feels the effects of the quickening take place. He's about to stride forward, but he watches Barc in his animal form move about.
Well, if no one was going to give a pointer or two, he might as well go with plan B: hit it as hard as one possibly could. Just need the riiiight window...
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+18-2: (8)+18+-2: 24 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+18-2: (16)+18+-2: 32 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+18-2: (4)+18+-2: 20 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4+3: (1)+3: 4 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4+3: (1)+3: 4 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d4+3: (2)+3: 5 GAME: You damaged Barclaiigh's companion for 13 points. 24 HP remaining. <OOC> Barclaiigh says, "He's got 29/42"
The Necro-bot turns on the bear. "Unbite me!" It commands, and swings, and swings, and swings. There is a meaty pulping noise as the impacts land, and the bear is bruised.
<OOC> Lysos says, "Burning a second level slot." GAME: Lysos casts Blur. Caster Level: 9 DC: 19 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+9: (2)+9: 11 (vs SR15)
Finally, some time to breathe. Lysos stares at her hands, noting them shake.. then she swallows hard. A glance over her shoulder shows the exit to the building is clear, and oh is she tempted. One hand goes down to the side of her torso, coming away a little wet and red... but then she sighs. Centering herself. She shuffles forward, gathering power again.. more than before. Recognizing the resistance to spells these machines seem to have, she continues to gather.. enough, she hopes, to punch her magic through those defenses. Then she unleashes it downwards into the floor, thrusting her hands down and stomping at the same time. "KRak!" Unfortunately the power sizzles when it tries to erupt beneath Sparkbot.
<OOC> Randolf says, "Gonna Hand of the Apprentice my axe at horny-boi." GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+9: (6)+9: 15 <OOC> Randolf says, "Does that hit?" <OOC> Barclaiigh says, "I think he's AC25. He's a beast." <OOC> Randolf says, "..." <OOC> Randolf says, "So I'm -totally- useless, then."
Randolf cocks back his axe and hurls it with all his strength. "HYAGH!" The dwarf-forged steel goes tumbling end-over-end and simply clangs off the bot's armor plating. "Gods -damn- it, there's naught I can -do- against this bloody thing!" he snarls furiously as the axe flies back to his hand.
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls melee+1+1+1-1: (6)+6+1+1+1+-1: 14 (+1 for AoMF) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls melee+1+1+1-1: (4)+6+1+1+1+-1: 12 (+1 for AoMF) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls melee+1+1+1-1: (19)+6+1+1+1+-1: 27 (+1 for AoMF) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls melee+1+1+1-1: (5)+6+1+1+1+-1: 13 (+1 for AoMF) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d6+4+1+2: (2)+4+1+2: 9
Favoring one of his forepaws, the Barverine nods when he makes sense of what Skielstregar hopes to accomplish by waiting. He limps across the hall and draws in a quick breath before dropping into another barrage of animalistic fury. Only one swipe connects but he manages to sever a few exposed wires with those silvered claws.
<OOC> Skielstregar says, "five foot to 17,5 to set up the flank and go to town" <OOC> Skielstregar nod! Arcane strike, power attack, furious focus GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21+2+1: (10)+15+2+1: 28 GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21+2+1-2: (1)+15+2+1+-2: 17 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Skielstregar says, "im going to use my reroll on that one" GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21+2+1-2: (16)+15+2+1+-2: 32 GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21+2+1-2-5: (5)+15+2+1+-2+-5: 16 GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage21+6+2: aliased to 1d10+10+6+2: (6)+10+6+2: 24 GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage21+6+2: aliased to 1d10+10+6+2: (10)+10+6+2: 28
Skielstergar watches Barverine, nodding once as black miasma seeps from his maw and wounds. While the machine was distracted, the Ex-Sunblade drives the spear tip of the halberd into the exposed wires that was oh-so graciously handed to him.
He pivots his hips, lifts the machine up.
And slams it into the ground, scattering it into dozens of smaller scrap pieces. "Infernal contraption..!" he hisses, wiping his maw off with the back of his hand and shooting a thumbs up to the other transformed man across the way.
<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "Telamon's at dinner." <OOC> Ravenstongue says, "He said a bit ago if his turn comes up: "Glitterdust ClockEvoc, DC 18 Will save" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (8)+3: 11 <OOC> Ravenstongue says, "Sure can. I would like to try and scorching ray to follow up on the glitterdust." GAME: Ravenstongue casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 7 DC: 17 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+7+2: (11)+7+2: 20 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls ranged: (18)+5: 23 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls ranged: (5)+5: 10 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 4d6: (13): 13
The half-elf sorcerers work their talents on the remaining construct. Just when the thing can see again, Telamon ensures that it can't. With another "Mulan ukum!" and a shower of glitter particles, the construct is, once again, operating in the dark.
(Do constructs dream of visible sheep?)
Ravenstongue adds insult to injury, her magic once again powering past the construct's wards as she sends two rays of fire at the machine. "Drop dead already," she grumbles.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Hmm. it will do 3 more attacks, now with 50 miss chance" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+18-2: (4)+18+-2: 20 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+18-2: (19)+18+-2: 35 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+18-2: (19)+18+-2: 35 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d100: (77): 77 (1-50 misses - hit) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d100: (93): 93 (1-50 misses - hit) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d100: (49): 49 (1-50 misses - miss) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 2d4+6: (7)+6: 13 GAME: You damaged Barclaiigh's companion for 13 points. 15 HP remaining.
"Victory is mine!" The second construct emits with surprisingly convincing emotion when the sparking bot explodes. "No!" >smack< "You drop" >smack< "Dead!"
The taunt is thrown in Cor'lana's direction, but the actual punctuating punches are towards Porter.
Despite its blindness, two of the Necro-bot's blows land.
<OOC> Lysos will to Touch of Destiny on Porter. Lysos will move up to.. 15,9 GAME: Lysos spends ONE use of TOUCH OF DESTINY.
Lysos lets her breath out now. She's fine. FINE. Never mind the pounding heart or the shaking hands. All of the automatons save the one are broken. The last one is being hugged to death by a bear. Things are FINE. She looks around, looking at the scattered adventurers... and looks at the bear again. No. This is crazy. This... is exactly what she needs to do. Though she pales considerably, she moves forward.. haste induced speed making her move much more quickly than she'd like.. and all too soon she is behind Porter. Reaching out, just enough to brush the bear's armoured flank.. and imparting power the ursine might not be familiar with. This sudden sense of events coming together. Stars aligning. An upcoming Perfect Moment. And then she quickly pulls her hand away, lest she fall victim to an instinctive backpaw swipe.
<OOC> Randolf says, "Do I know if Dispel Magic would do anything to this thing?" GAME: Randolf rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (2)+17: 19 (vs DC15) GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+8: (5)+8: 13
A dispel magic might be effective. This construct's magical attacks are from the wand that's built into it. A Dispell that hits that item would break the magic attacks, but not stop it using slam attacks. Alternatively, a dispel magic could cause it to lose movement, or slam attacks. Constructs are magical but notoriously hard to shut down.
Randolf turns his enraged gaze on the last of the constructs. His brows furrow into an expression of fierce concentration as he lifts his wand. "Re ex raya dunor ahneg negatos!" he incants, sounding out each syllable perfectly and deliberately. He snaps his wand out. "HAH!" A gauzy crystal sphere appears around the bot, but the image warbles and ripples before fading out without shattering. He lets loose a furious roar. "Oh eat my FAT! HAIRY! DWARVEN! -ARSE-!" he bellows, punctuating each word with a furious stomp of a foot.
<OOC> Barclaiigh says, "Porter'll try to pin. Grapple CMD is +14, +5 for the guy not escaping, +6 from Lysos." GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+14+5+6: (17)+14+5+6: 42 (vs CMD 33 - we have a pinned robut) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls melee+1+1+1: (11)+6+1+1+1: 20 (vs DC 10, aid another)
Porter isn't looking so great himself at this point! The construct's insistence on not going down without continued bludgeonings is leaving the bear bloodied and bruised. Still he holds! We one last roar the bear bridges his weight between jaw and rear paws, lifting his front two off the ground. His haunches flex and he drives back and down. The clockwork man is no match and goes down in a heap. The bear drops his weight onto the rogue thing.
Barclaiigh, meanwhile, goes to help! The little rabid varmint scurries across the ground at cheetah-like speeds, paving the way for the sith-makar and steadying the construct's head-like extremity.
<OOC> Skielstregar says, "gonna hop over to 13,7 and do a bop" GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21+2+1: (18)+15+2+1: 36 GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage21+6+2: aliased to 1d10+10+6+2: (6)+10+6+2: 24
Skielstregar swirls around, eyes crimson as he rushes over. He leaps into the air, and brings the axe end of the halberd down into the ground with a metal crunch. "Thankssssss...!" he hisses to Barc, yanking the weapon with a ear grating grate.
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+7: (17)+7: 24 (vs SR20) GAME: Telamon casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 7 DC: 17 GAME: Telamon rolls 4d4+4: (8)+4: 12
The construct is at the center of a whirl of weapon blades, claws, and growls. This pleases Telamon immensely, as he raises his hand again, focusing. "Izigi'edena zanzana," he chants, four blue-white stars rocketing into the golem. Zipping past, striking its head with arcane hammerblows... more darts shooting from Raven, and there's a loud CRACK from the crystalline construct's head, and a loud sputtering sound.
When the thing goes limp, Tel turns his attention to Raven immediately, slipping his arms around her. "Are you all right?" <OOC> Telamon says, "And STAY DEAD, fucker."
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 7 DC: 16 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+7+2: (8)+7+2: 17 (vs SR20)
"Surr... surr... render to me no... now and you will be.." The Necrobot stutters. Its ability to vocalize disrupted by a bear to the face and a lizardman punching him down. Blinded, pinned, with a fresh coat of glitter, it is oddly looking to be in great shape.
Until Telamon's shots find their way into its core.
>>SPANGLE<<
It doesn't so much explode as it crumples in half with an ugly purple wafting upwards. The second construct is disabled.
The magic smoke got let out.
Upon seeing the construct crumple to the floor, Raven wilts into Telamon's arms. Yet she manages to push her head back into her favorite spot in the entire world, regardless of the locale around her--underneath Telamon's chin, where she happens to neatly fit due to being six inches shorter than him.
"I'm... exhausted," Ravenstongue says, closing her eyes. "But I'm okay."
"A baby," Pothy says on her shoulder. He's mimicking the nice older lady at the Soldier's Defense, clearly drawing on his memories of visiting Boti. But Ravenstongue doesn't have the strength to reprimand him.
Porter continues to hold onto the junked construct for a time, looking back and forth over his mouth of gears and hoses. Finally giving a wet cack, he releases, and then bounces on his forepaws a few times for good measure. The trunk of the thing is done in entirely as its dented concave and fluids begin leaking free.
The Barverine flops down onto his hip, then rolls onto his back even as he gives up the shapeshift and turns back into his hefty Khazadi self. Silver claws turn back into thick, tattooed fingers and his burned, half-bearded face resolves out from under receeding fur. "Naps all 'round," he twangs, squinting his eyes shut.
Randolf pants for breath as he lowers his wand. He's still quivering with rage from head to foot. With a growl, he shoves his axe and wand into their holsters, trundling over to his friends. "You lot all right?" he asks. "Sorry I wasn't more help." He turns a hairy eyeball on the twisted remnants of the construct. "-Someone- decided it'd be a brilliant notion tae make these things -spell resistant-." He hawks and spits. "But... that's the last of 'em, at least." He pauses, then looks up and around, his hand straying back to his wand. "It -is-, innit?"
Lysos just backs away from Porter. She doesn't know bears. They don't have them where she comes from. And after witnessing what it did to this machine.. well.. the bear might take a dim view on the magics she put on him. So she backs well away, then finds a place to sit as she examines her own hurts. "It better be over," she half complains, have sighs.
Skielstregar whips around, panting and bleeding slightly. He huffs a languid sigh, his spooky weapon clonking against the ground. The Forgotten effects vanish with a >pop<.
He waves off the apology from Randolf. "You're fine, you did well..." he wheezes. "Thisss one hopesss so."
He rubs his face. "Thanksss for that, Ssshaman Barclaiigh."
-whrrr- >clank< -whrrr- >clank<
Ominous mechanical sounds, suggesting a fourth construct, come from the stairs. There's only a moment of doubt before the source steps into view. It's the gnome in the power suit, from earlier.
"Oh? Oh good! You got them down." His goggles light up, "You had to smash them? Why didn't you use the disconnect?"
"... know places I reckon they never find a dead gnome'n th'wilds..." Barclaiigh groans, one eye all but swollen shut.
Telamon helps Raven over to the others. "That was close." He looks over at Lysos. "Was... that you, or Randolf, who launched the bear into the fray? Because by the gods, that was truly inspired." He grins at Barclaiigh and Porter. "And you two. Dinner's on me, friend. Yes, including the bear. I'll buy him an entire damned cow if he wants."
He fusses with Raven a little more, before looking at the gnome. His brow furrows, and he glares. "-What- disconnect? And if they were that important to you, why didn't you come in with us?"
Randolf turns, whipping his wand off his belt and pointing it at the sound of that clanking. But it's just the gnome that called for their help. His eyes get wide and his face turns white as his jaw drops, working soundlessly for a moment. But only a moment. Color returns with a vengeance, his cheeks turning redder than his beard as he explodes. "Why didn't -we- use the disconnect?! WHY DIDN'T -YOU- USE THE DISCONNECT, YE DOSS CUNT?!" he roars. He shoves his wand back into its holster. "Reos' bloody blue -balls-, those things are -dangerous-! Next time why don't ye do us all a favor an' cross the fuckin' -streams-?!" Rubbing his face furiously, he looks back at his friends. "You lot want tae get shitface? -I- want tae get shitfaced. C'mon. I'll buy." Still grumbling as only a dwarf can, he turns and starts stumping his way for the exit.
Ravenstongue shoots a withering glance at the gnome, but everyone else is already reaming the power-suited fellow for everything he's got. She simply sighs and murmurs, "I want to go home... maybe Grandfather's beat us to the punch and he has dinner cooking at the house as a surprise...?"
It's a vague hope. But it puts a smile on her face. That's a happy little hope.
Then Pothy yells, "DOSS CUNT," at the gnome, mimicking Randolf perfectly, and this causes Ravenstongue to dissolve into the uncontrollable giggles of the very, very tired.
"Something knocked me over," The gnome says, waving with his very large hands, one moving close enough he makes himself flinch. "I came to and you were gone."
He stares at Randolf as the dwarf upbraids him, then hears the echo'd version from the raven. "Ahhh, ahhh. Well... the Guild has your payment."
Skielstregar stares at the gnome. "... what isss a dissconnect?"
He is, after all, the jock. And he lets Randolf say what was on his mind but was too reserved to say anything.
"Thisss one could ussse food. They will accept thisss offer." He shifts a bit and winces. "... ow. What happened with thisss machinesss? Why did it do thisss?"
"Hahaha..." Lysos laughs, a bit weakly. Perhaps a little bit hysterically. Just a little. "It was a flying bear." So, probably a little less to do with inspiration and more to do with desperation.. possibly not the response Telamon was looking for. And while she certainly agrees with the reaming that is being given the suited-up gnome, there's little more she can add to the verbal assault.
Barclaiigh winces at the shouting, very gingerly resting his calloused hand against the side of his face. Everything hurts and his burned skin feels simultaneously hot and cold. He's trying not to think of the damage to his poor beard. Porter's snuffling draws his attention and he forces his eyes open to look at the wet snout of his quadrupedal friend. "Dang good timin', fella," he thanks.
It takes a bit of doing but the druid rolls over and off of his back, pushing to his hands and knees and wrapping his arms around the bear's neck. "Thing them things was wound a bit too tight 's all..."
Unbeknownst to our Heroes, the Disconnect was never really an option. The gnome in charge, like many self-absorbed souls, simply assumed everyone would know about the disconnect. That they'd know the procedure to activate it would require climbing the spiral staircase, skipping steps according to a fibonacci sequence, followed by tripping over the topmost step. This would enable the tumblers, which were on the far side of the artificer's halls.
There would only be one opportunity to enter the correct code, without activating the containment protocol. The code, of course was a simple sequence of numbers. 314159265358979, easy as pie, on the tip of everyone's mental tongue. After that, all that would be necessary is to throw the switch.
At which point it would be discovered that some of the earlier fireworks had blasted the signal box, rendering it inoperabe. This wasn't known, so the gnome's belief that adventurers would better whether the gauntlet and be able to activate the switch, was false and misplaced. The malfunctionning constructs would still have required percussive maintenance.
However, by the time the failure analysis was complete and all the facts were known, the adventurers were long gone and there was no reason to tell them.
Combatty
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Okay, so lots of people, when Combat starts I'll try to move things quickly. If it's your turn and we're not working on it and 5 minutes go by I'll move on, you'll move down in the init and we'll pick up after the next person I'm working with. Everyone here gets a free re-roll, please keep track."
MAP!
https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=mpbw6jgqc0n
Dog Soldier and Swords
https://swordscomic.com/comic/CDVI/
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 1 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
26 Barclaiigh 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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21 Telamon 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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15 ClockEvoc
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15 Ravenstongue 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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11 Skielstregar 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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10 ClockNecro
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9 Lysos 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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6 Randolf 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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==============================================================================
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 5 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
26 Barclaiigh 1
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21 Telamon 1
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15 ClockEvoc 1
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15 Ravenstongue 1
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>> 11 Skielstregar 1 Raging (5 rnds active) <<
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10 ClockNecro 1
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9 Lysos 1
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6 Randolf 1
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==============================================================================
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 6 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
26 Barclaiigh 1
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25 Skielstregar 1 Raging (6 rnds active)
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>> 21 Telamon 1 <<
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15 Ravenstongue 1
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10 ClockNecro 1
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9 Lysos 1
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6 Randolf 1
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==============================================================================
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| Name | Race | Class | CHP | HP | AC/FF/T |CMD |For |Ref |Wil |
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|Barclaiigh|MOUNTAIN_D|Dru | 21 | 39 |18/16/12 | 18 | 7 | 3 | 9 |
|Lysos |HUMAN |Sor | 44 | 44 |13/10/13 | 22 | 4 | 6 | 7 |
|Randolf |MOUNTAIN_D|Wiz | 61 | 61 |11/10/11 | 17 | 6 | 3 | 7 |
|Ravenstong|HALF-ELF |Sor | 38 | 38 |14/12/14 | 17 | 6 | 6 | 9 |
|Skielstreg|SITH-MAKAR|Brg | 72 | 75 |18/16/10 | 24 | 8 | 4 | 5 |
|Telamon |HALF-ELF |Sor | 23 | 31 |12/10/12 | 16 | 4 | 5 | 8 |
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
| Name | CHP (T) | HP |
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
| Barclaiigh....| 2 | 39 |
| (C) Porter....| 37 | 37 |
| Lysos.........| 14 | 44 |
| Randolf.......| 61 | 61 |
| Ravenstongue..| 36 | 38 |
| Skielstregar..| 46 | 75 |
| Telamon.......| 23 | 31 |
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~