Owlbears Oh My
EVENT NAME: Spontaneous Slog
DESCRIPTION: PC-team vs. Group-of-monsters slog. Minimal plot--just enought to get the action going. Monsters determined based on what PCs are interested.
FACING: Five (5) standard owlbears
EMITTED BY: Ga'Elian
PCs: Dubtle (Wtc3), Saiorse (Art4), Vandred (Sor3), Charity (Mnk3), Delilah (Sor2)
APL: 3
CR: Owlbears (4) + Five of them (+4) - DM Assists (-2 or -3): 5 or 6
Reports have reached the Adventurers Guild in Alexandria that a team of lumberjacks in the forests north of Wilderness Pointe have been missing for three days. The Guild has offered to send a brave team of heroes to go into the woods and seek them, possibly rescue them, and report back to the Village mayor. As our adventure begins, you all, who have responded to the call, are at the forest road at the village's northern end. It is a dirt road, the weather is mild, breezy, and cool, and the time of day is just after dawn. You all have just finished a complimentary breakfast at the village's main pub.
Dubtle is fine with this!
Between catching murderers and reading books, he has plenty o' time to go on a rescue mission!
He promptly faceplants into a shrub after tripping over a rock.
"Wilderness Pointe. I'm not sure about this..." Charity, a rather towering black Oruch comments, rolling the 'Pointe' around in her mouth thoughtfully. Her lower lip curls around one jutting tusk, before sighing, and shaking her head.
"Why 'pointE'." She pronounce the semisilent e heavily. "Why not Point? Like the noble point of a spear, or the point of all life, revering their creator, Daeus and Althea's love?"
She falls silent, on the wilderness path. "These deeply spiritual questions will have to wait for our triumphant return.
Delilah is playing with her pistol as she walks with the group, busy spinning it by the trigger-guard and generally fiddling with it as she walks. "Well, I for one hope that the lumberjacks are hunky," she declares. "Hunky men are always the best sort to rescue. As long as they're not too beardy, anyway. Beard on the neck is too much." She breaks open the side of her pistol and tucks a bullet into it, before holstering it now that it's loaded. "Maybe we can get them to cook us dinner? That'd be fun."
If Saiorse ate any of the breakfast that was provided, it must have been off in the bog. For the most part, the masked figure has settled herself in the corner of a room on a ricketty chair, straight backed and ever-judgmentally staring out of that one tinted lense of hers out at her travel companions. There was a drink at her table, but even that remained untouched, settled atop a folded red kerchief that probably means something to someone somewhere. When they depart, she merely lifts herself, brushes needle-clawed hands down the front of her garb, and lopes along after the rest with a swaggering stride.
"I wager, me, I do, chickadee..." Her voices comes creeping from the vents at the side of her mask like smog as she nears Vandred, a figure that has become all too familiar with her over the past short while, "Wager well and high that they're dead, dead, dead to the world by now, mm? Perhaps she won't mind, that one, won't mind at all, so long as their beards are trimmm..." There's a keening sort of trailing of that final sound that might very well be moaning, ushered into the up-ending lilt of question as she leans just a little too close to the shadow-elf, her hypodermic 'nails' clicking ever so softly together in a gentle rhythm that might remind one of common time; one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four -- completely at odds with the staggered, purposely uneven steps that carry her forward.
Vandred loves complimentary breakfasts. If only because he's managed to stuff himself full of food and a tankard or three of ale before setting off, it's probably some wonder the Mul' isn't as stout as a dwarf, but he doesn't seem to argue with it. He does, however, give a sharp peal of laughter as Dubtle goes faceplanting into a shrub, letting it sink in for a moment. Then another moment. Then he goes to help the Dwarf out - if nobody gets there before him - otherwise he's continuing on his way. "Pointe, because it's fancy." He comments.
"If they're dead, it makes it a bit easier to get back. If they're alive, well. That's a heroes return, and probably a free complimentary dinner. It's a victory either way." He adds.
"Dead?" Delilah scratches the back of her head lightly. "No, I'm... really not into dead lumberjacks, let's try to get them back alive, please. Much better that way, I wouldn't consider it a 'win' to recover a bunch of dead lumberjacks. Imagine how their families would feel about that one, yeah?" She pauses, and glances over at Saiorse with a sly grin, "I've got five gold pieces that say they're not all dead. How about it? Are you in?"
As you all wend your way along the road, the sounds and smells of the forest are invigorating... enlivening. The rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds. Those with extraordinary perception might notice other wildlife. After a while, though, you start to near the place where the lumberjacks were supposed to be working. Sure, there are felled trees here, a good dozen across a 100 square foot swath. But no other sign of the men. Their tools are gone, and so are they.
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Perception checks, if you'd like to try to find a trail."
GAME: Dubtle rolls perception: (4)+2: 6
GAME: Vandred rolls perception: (2)+5: 7
GAME: Charity rolls Perception: (19)+9: 28
GAME: Saiorse rolls perception: (8)+8: 16
Ga'Elian paged (Charity, Saiorse) with 'You both found a path leading roughly northeast into a thicker part of the woods.'
GAME: Delilah rolls perception: (7)+0: 7
The masked woman merely keeps walking, the gentle wheeze and whisper of her breath through the vents filling the immediate area with a strange but aromatic fragrance that is equal blends of floral and earthy spice, her head ever so slowly turning toward Delilah in fractional tick as though she operated by way of clockwork alone. An owlish eye regards her for long, calculating moments without so much as a peep, pupil growing fat with a sort of feral excitement at whatever it is that's creeping its way through her mind.
Hssk. Hsssk. .. Hss--
Her attentions turn back to Vandred then, a vexation inherent in her tone of voice as one clawed hand lifts in an airy gesture, "I do wonder, me, wonder woefully why they insist on speaking to me, myself." The heft of the sigh she lets out causes a whirring whine as air is forced out haughtily, chin lifting ever so slightly as her gaze returns to idle wandering. "I wonder, me, I do in fact, also and as well, do wonder if they should notice that northeasterly path were they not so panting and writhing over the very possibility of grotty peasantry clumsily fumbling at her undercloth." She gestures, still talking sideways to the Mul'. "As I have."
"Ow," says Dubtle.
He gets to his feet and bruhses himself off and then immediately starts to scratch his face. A pause.
"Oh no."
Congratulations, Dubtle. You manage to find the only patch of poison ivy for miles around.
"I'm afraid I'm not going to be staying around for the mourning period if they're dead. It sounds callous, but even while I'm rather novice at this and relatively /enjoy/ saving lives, the world outside the walls is a rather brutal and dangerous place. They talk to you cause you're such a conversationalist, dearest. I mean, you exude a natural charisma that makes people want to converse with you." Vandred prattles a bit, pacing near the back of the group. He comes to a pause at the clearing, looking generally rather nonplussed at the whole situation. "It's entirely too bright for this kind of nonsense." He off-handedly mutters. He does, however, ensure that Dubtle is aimed towards where the group -should- be walking, rather than let him wander into any further poison ivy. "Careful, careful. Don't want to have to look for you too. No reward in that.."
"Eh? Northwesternly? No. Northeasternly. You will forgive me. A bit too bright for even hearing right now. That and possibly the third tankard of ale." He sniffs, idly. "Although I try to avoid any mental imagery like that, dearest. Would not be good for one's digestion. Besides, I can't grow a beard. All this talking about beards is making me /almost/ jealous." A beat. "Almost. But at least your eyes are pointing us in the right way."
A dastardly deede to say the least. Who abducts lumberjacks? Well, more than the local chapter of Angorites. They have both means AND motive! But...
"What use have the Angorites for a lumberjack's tools? I understand their desire for rugged pectorals and plaid cloth, but this is too far, even for them! But hark!" Charity calls, before pointing at a nearly hidden path to the north-east. Another has found that, as well!
Excellente.
"The dastards and ne'er do-wells have stolen both mene and materiele, but have no fear. The cause, and path, of righteous-" She brings her arms in and down, flexing her arms and showing off well-defined musculature. Is that oil glistening along her bare arms? Yes. Yes it is.
"-leads us towards strength! Strength, victory, and this way!"
She then starts bumblefucking through the forest in the direction of the path. The Pathe, one might say.
A little further along the discovered path, you all come upon what must have been the lumberjacks' camp. Tents, tools, a tripod from which a cast iron kettle hangs, its contents burnt black, like the firewood below.
As her offer of a wager is apparently ignored, Delilah simply shrugs her shoulders. "Wimp," she pronounces in a sing-song voice. "Also you might want to pull that mind of yours out of the gutter. Undercloths? Good grief." She pauses, about to say something else, when she's abruptly looking at Charity instead. "Oh! You found a path! Well done!" She beams, moving up to stand alongside the Oruch, who no doubt makes her look completely puny. "You are clearly better than anything hunky lumberjacks can provide. Down the path, then? And, uhm," she shuffles a step backwards, "You first, please. I just zap things, preferably not from right beside them."
The tools were not stolen? THAT CAN ONLY MEAN ONE THING!!!
Charity breaks through the foliage potentially at the head of the group, because she is of low intelligence and high musculature. Delilah is, in fact, welcome to hide behind her back, which is both broad and strong.
"The wily Angorites are once more upon the table, as the true culprits. Their lust for beards and plaid cloth, and defiance of the Dragon Father's Discpline cannot be understated!"
Saiorse merely plods ahead to remain at the fore of the group alongside the other trailblazer. Appears she has nothing more to say.
"Augh, augh! The itches! Augh!"
Dubtle is suffering enormously with this. It came on fast, apparently. Or, more likely, Dubtle's just assuming and overreacting as usual. Then Charity is talking an he just sort of stares at her. "Welp," he manages to say, "I guess we go." Scratch scratch scratch.
Dubtle is suffering enormously with this. It came on fast, apparently. Or, more likely, Dubtle's just assuming and overreacting as usual. Then Charity is talking an he just sort of stares at her. "Welp," he manages to say, "I guess we go." Scratch scratch scratch.
"Or, it might have been animals," Delilah points out, "Or the undead, or a giant green hand from the moon, or any number of other things. But, yes, I'll grant you that it could have been Angorites." She furrows her brow, resting her hand on her pistol just in case. "Looks like it happened while they were cooking. Awkward. That probably would've been some really good pork and beans otherwise."
"Very funny, Vandred," yells Dubtle at him with some frustration. Then he realizes he's being loud and immediately shuts up to move along with the others. He stares at Charity, though.
"You're terrifying," he mumbles. And by terrifying, he means 'weird'.
Suddenly, from beyond some trees comes the shrill sound of a noise that atarts as a hoot then tapers off into a growl. Almost immediately, the sound is repeated a few times from a few different directions.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ATTENTION -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Ga'Elian has dropped a TIMESTOP!
Please +init, then cease all roleplay and actions immediately and wait for Ga'Elian to instruct you further.
For in-combat commands, type: +thelp.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
GAME: Charity rolls initiative: 20 + 2 = 22
GAME: Dubtle rolls initiative: 15 + 2 = 17
GAME: Saiorse rolls initiative: 9 + 3 = 12
GAME: Vandred rolls initiative: 4 + 8 = 12
GAME: Delilah rolls initiative: 1 + 3 = 4
GAME: You roll initiative for ob1: Roll: 17 + Bonus: 5 = Total: 22
GAME: You roll initiative for ob2: Roll: 6 + Bonus: 5 = Total: 11
GAME: You roll initiative for ob3: Roll: 3 + Bonus: 5 = Total: 8
GAME: You roll initiative for ob4: Roll: 1 + Bonus: 5 = Total: 6
GAME: You roll initiative for ob5: Roll: 13 + Bonus: 5 = Total: 18
Ta dah! And just like that, five owlbears come into view, growling, hooting, snarling, and ferocious!
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order. Round One - Init 22. It is now ob1's turn! Charity is next!
ob1 attacks Charity Claw/Claw/Bite...
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (11)+8: 19
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (12)+8: 20
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (2)+8: 10
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (4)+4: 8
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (2)+4: 6
GAME: You damaged Charity for 14 points. 13 HP remaining.
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 22.
It is now Charity's turn! ob5 is next!
GAME: Note Flat-footed on Charity ended.
<OOC> Charity says, "Since I don't like dying and there are five of them, I'll swift to start up Dragon Style, flurry the guy next to me (Calling Stunning Fist 1/3) and see how that goes"
GAME: Charity rolls melee: (5)+9: 14
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Bare miss (read AC 15)"
<OOC> Charity says, "Stun #2"
GAME: Charity rolls melee: (17)+9: 26
<OOC> Charity says, "DC 14 Fort"
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 10: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "It failed the fort save"
GAME: Charity rolls 1d6+6+3: (2)+6+3: 11
<OOC> Charity says, "And a ki for a third"
GAME: Charity rolls melee: (12)+9: 21
GAME: Charity rolls 1d6+6: (1)+6: 7
After being BRUTALLY MAULED by a bearish owl (or an owlish bear? scholars debate to this day!), Charity takes two claws and does not look too happy about it, flecks of blood spraying from cuts, as she ducks the beak headed to take a chunk out of her. In return, she swings once - wide - before her hook connects with a resounding crack, and she snaps up a leg supernaturally fast for a third hit.
"Defend yourselves, boon companions! The culprits are among us! Bearishe Owls!"
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 18.
It is now ob5's turn! Dubtle is next!
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "ob5 will attack Dubtle c/c/b..."
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (18)+8: 26
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (15)+8: 23
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (20)+8: 28
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (16)+8: 24
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "hit, hit on claws, crit on bite"
<OOC> Vandred says, "Any AoO's from people nearby on that OB?"
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Gonna say no."
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (5)+4: 9
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (2)+4: 6
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 2d6+8: (8)+8: 16
GAME: You damaged Dubtle for 31 points. -7 HP remaining. (DYING)
<OOC> Saiorse says, "Gunnae no' dae tha'?"
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "This is NOT a death-consent scene."
<OOC> Dubtle says, "How are they getting full attacks when moving to us? XD"
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Yeah, I figure they popped out from the trees, not much cover. Frankly, if the rolls go bad, I'll back off. If not it'll just be that much more satisfying of a victory. (Disclaims any great experience doing this sort of thing.)"
ob5 is horrendously successful, savagely brutalizing Dubtle into a bloody heap.
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 17.
It is now Dubtle's turn! Vandred is next!
GAME: Note Flat-footed on Dubtle ended.
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 12.
It is now Vandred's turn! Saiorse is next!
GAME: Note Flat-footed on Vandred ended.
<OOC> Vandred says, "I tap Saiorse with my bulls strength wand."
GAME: Vandred used a Wand of Bull's Strength.
<OOC> Vandred says, "And then a prompt move away from any owlbears with my move action, to give me some distance."
Vandred watches Dubtle go down, savaged into said bloody heap. He eyeballs the scene for a moment, before he promptly produces a bulls strength wand from his right sleeve. Lifting it up high, he gives Saiorse a tap on the shoulder with it, with a complimentary flare of magic, and then the wand is casually slipped away again. The Mul' purses his lips in thought as he stares down at the bloodied form of Dubtle - and then he's rather quickly jogging away, giving some distance so that the owlbears go after the bloody meat, rather than fresh Mul'. "Sorry, Dubtle!"
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 12.
It is now Saiorse's turn! ob2 is next!
GAME: Note Flat-footed on Saiorse ended.
<OOC> Saiorse says, "So, since they're upon us, I'm going to full attack the one on Charity, flanking with her and using power attack."
<OOC> Saiorse says, "Also swift to activate armour"
GAME: Saiorse activates her Titan Armor, gaining: +4 Str
GAME: Saiorse rolls 1d20+11: (19)+11: 30
GAME: Saiorse rolls 1d20+11: (2)+11: 13
GAME: Saiorse rolls 2d8+9: (9)+9: 18
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "You hurt it bad enough it's fleeing and howling in pain. Pose please."
GAME: ob1 removed from initiative list.
There's little in the way of hesitation from the haughty woman that has yet to give any sort of introduction. Once Vandred's magic has taken hold, her stance shifts and her massive claws are lifted into aggressive posturing as she stares out at the creatures from beyond the lense that over-exaggerates her alien eye. "Let's see, then, shall we? What are you inside, my dear? Owl, bear, man... beast..." She gives it a quick once over, huffing out another of those fragrant breaths in contemplation, barely sparing a sideways glance to the downed dwarf that she's battled with nearly as often as she has stood by the side of the Mul man that has ever so bravely advanced to the rear, no doubt in an act of tactical genius rather than blatant cowardice.
"Whatever it is, I hope it's red."
It's at that time that her weight is shuffled forward with a shocking snap of speed and force, the blunted edges of those hypodermic claws pounding into the flank of the creature, and even as it begins to howl in pain and panic, they begin to tear away at flesh, feather and fur as she digs in an unending search for the mystery within. When it pulls away to flee, those artifice fueled fists dribble with the fruits of her labour, a sharp hiss of breath punctuating her plea.
HSSK! Hss--"I only wish to know you from the inside!"
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 11.
It is now ob2's turn! ob3 is next!
ob2 is going full vs Saiorse...
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (10)+8: 18
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (10)+8: 18
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (8)+8: 16
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (4)+4: 8
GAME: You damaged Saiorse for 15 points. 24 HP remaining.
As Saiorse attacks the beast on Charity, another arracks her, raking her with both claws, and finding some of her own red stuff.
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 8.
It is now ob3's turn! ob4 is next!
ob3 tries to charge Vandred...
Dubtle remains a bloody mess on the ground. Ow. OWlbears suck.
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 10: (3)+10: 13
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Charges, and... misses. And, Charity can make an AoO."
GAME: Charity rolls melee: (8)+9: 17
GAME: Charity rolls 1d6+6: (2)+6: 8
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 6.
It is now ob4's turn! Delilah is next!
ob4 C/C/B vs Delilah...
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (2)+8: 10
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (20)+8: 28
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (12)+8: 20
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (7)+8: 15
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Miss, Crit, Hit"
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 2d6+8: (6)+8: 14
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7
GAME: You damaged Delilah for 21 points. -10 HP remaining. (DYING)
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 4.
It is now Delilah's turn! Charity is next!
GAME: Note Flat-footed on Delilah ended.
All of a sudden, the owlbear by Delilah strikes, making up for missing with one claw by striking true with the other, and biting with its savage beak. In all the kerfuffle, though, it seems that the camping lumberjacks had stowed certain valuable items aloft in the branches and fled without retrieving them. As luck would have it, the shaking or the breeze or something now causes two of those branches to spill something from inside the packs lodged up in them. A vial of magical liquid spontaneously falls from each, shattering against the bloody heaps that are Dubtle and Delilah. Thank Tarien! These were the lumberjacks' first aid kits! The liquid that splashes upon our rowned heroes is none other than Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds!
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 2d8+3: (7)+3: 10
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 2d8+3: (10)+3: 13
GAME: You damaged Dubtle for -10 points. 3 HP remaining.
GAME: You damaged Delilah for -13 points. 3 HP remaining.
GAME: NEW ROUND!
Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 22.
It is now Charity's turn! ob5 is next!
<OOC> Charity says, "I guess I'll flank on OB5 and punch him some business. I'll call third Stunning Fist (DC14 Fort) on the first attack"
<OOC> Charity says, "And a ki for an extra"
GAME: Charity rolls melee+2: (16)+9+2: 27
GAME: Charity rolls 1d6+9: (5)+9: 14
GAME: Charity rolls melee+2: (17)+9+2: 28
GAME: Charity rolls 1d6+6: (6)+6: 12
<OOC> Charity says, "So 26 and DC14 Fort or stun on OB5"
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 10: (14)+10: 24
<OOC> Charity says, "All done! 3/3 fists, 2/4 ki"
<OOC> Ga'Elian saved. Significantly hurt. Pose, please.
Having these VICIOUS owlbears spring up (drop down? spring, full formed, from Taara's brow angry and wishing to visit vile, dark... owl... bear things on the party?) and attack Charity was a Problem. Certainly, she - and the rather FETCHINGLY SWOLE Artificer, filled with Shiny Gadgets and wanded up for maximum MUSCLE had proven quite adequate at dispatching the bears but...
Things were not looking good. Being ambushed by a half-dozen of the creatures would be dangerous... for five Charities! A whole convent of orc monks!
Well, actually these bears would have torn most people apart, BUT FOR THE GRACE OF DAEUS* (*and not Tarien at all, praise Dragon Father) and the Lumberjack's rather prodigous* (*lucky, but still not Tarien at all) stores of First Aid potions.
It is the dark and scary woods, you know.
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 18.
It is now ob5's turn! Dubtle is next!
ob5 will attack Charity back...
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (12)+8: 20
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (12)+8: 20
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (2)+8: 10
GAME: You damaged Charity for 17 points. -4 HP remaining. (DYING)
And then an owlbear, sprung forth from Maugrim's hateful (and hairy!) armpit, double-taps Charity like an MMA Owlboxer, and the tower of mahsul drops.
The ferocity of this beast, kindled by its own grievous wounds, drives it to inflict doom upon the Champion of Daeus. Mwa ha hah...
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 17.
It is now Dubtle's turn! Vandred is next!
<OOC> Dubtle says, "For my action, I will cure moderate wounds on Charity."
BUT BEFORE THE THREE COUNT IS CALLED, WHAT'S THIS, FROM OUTSIDE THE RING, IT'S...
Well, OK, it's actually just a MALE WITCH (what do you EVEN CALL THAT? A Wytch? A Mantch? A Wizard? No, no, that's a much better class with a much better spell-list) with a Cure Spell.
GAME: Dubtle casts Cure Moderate Wounds. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15
GAME: Dubtle rolls 2d8+4: (12)+4: 16
GAME: You damaged Charity for -16 points. 12 HP remaining.
Staggering confusedly and itchily back to his feet, Dubtle reaches over and lays a hand on Charity's slashed up swolen form and hits her with the grace of Navos!
Like her body is being rewound in time, her wounds reverse themselves.
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 12.
It is now Vandred's turn! Saiorse is next!
<OOC> Vandred says, "Are any of the OB's clumped together?"
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Well, sure. You've got one in melee range and the rest of the party is engaging 3 others. I'll say you have a clean shot at the three if you want it, Say 30 feet away or so."
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Or more accurately, a clean shot at a spot from which all 3 could be affected."
<OOC> Vandred says, "I'll fire off a color spray."
GAME: Vandred casts Color Spray. Caster Level: 3 DC: 16
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "So, +roll 1d4"
GAME: Vandred rolls 1d4: (1): 1
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 2: (3)+2: 5
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 2: (7)+2: 9
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 2: (14)+2: 16
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "2 fail, 1 saved"
<OOC> Vandred says, "I rolled a 1 on my 1d4, so, 1 round I think?"
<OOC> Saiorse says, "Yep"
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Yeah. 1 suffers no effect. The others are blinded for 1 round, then will be stunned next round. (Treating them as 4HD creatures despite them really being 5HD, because it's late and I'm looking to wind down.)
<OOC> Saiorse says, "I assume since there's one on Charity that I'm in a position to flank."
<OOC> Saiorse says, "The one that almost killed her, that is."
<OOC> Charity says, "Hooray, technically threatening since I am conscious and not using a ranged weapon"
Vandred keeps his position. You know. Safely out of danger, while everyone else is getting either their punch or claw on. He does wince at the violence, if only because it's done to others and not himself - otherwise he'd be screaming.
A bit of an arcane chant, a few obtuse gestures, and a spray of awful garish colour explodes from Vandred's right palm, coating over three of the Owlbears - causing two to be blinded.
<OOC> Saiorse says, "So, I'll full attack that."
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Yes, Saiorse. AoO possible on ob5 (which is blind, too, BTW)"
<OOC> Saiorse says, "Kk. So, AoO on 5, full attack on the other? Or.. ?"
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "ob2 is on you"
<OOC> Saiorse says, "Full attack on Ob2, then? AoO on 5?"
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Sounds good"
GAME: Saiorse rolls 1d20+11: (15)+11: 26
GAME: Saiorse rolls 1d20+11: (4)+11: 15
GAME: Saiorse rolls 1d20+9: (6)+9: 15
<OOC> Saiorse says, "9 was the AoO cause I don't think I'm flanking."
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "All hits"
GAME: Saiorse rolls 2d8+9: (8)+9: 17
GAME: Saiorse rolls 2d8+9: (11)+9: 20
GAME: Saiorse rolls 2d8+9: (10)+9: 19
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "ob5 is dead. ob2 is hurt (and neither blind nor stunned)"
GAME: ob5 removed from initiative list.
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 12.
It is now Saiorse's turn! ob2 is next!
The colour spray that comes from the hands of the sorcerer cast a stirring array of beautiful hues across the form of the injured Saiorse; the way it plays across the blood that leaks from open wounds both her own and those that grace her once-stalwart prey a touch of life against a macabre canvas, a momentary glimpse of fire leaping from the ash. There was a moment of stagger when the creature made contact with her armoured frame, tearing at her immaculately kept coat, piercing through the light underbelly of metal with a shrieking grate that seems to scream for her in place of any true voice that might have called out in anguish.
Her eye darts to the one that moves in her periphery, so intent upon attacking another or fleeing for its life that it seems to forget the threat she poses. "Shall we... heh... eh-heh," Her words are punctuated by that hissing wheeze, more strained than it was before, equalled in measure by the defiance that keeps her standing, "... Dance?" She concludes just before lashing out with those cruel fingers, digging downward in a lunge before curling upward in a brutal fist that pierces through the internal workings of the owlbear, her body turning with a quick twist as it lurches against her, gliding in a gracefully whorling step, "One, two, three," She begins, before she jerks the thing to the side and releases it, that it might go pirouetting toward the ground with a hollow, slick thump. Her motion doesn't stop, her first hand lashing out a second time for the thing that had brutalized her before. HSSK, hssk, "Two, THREE," Into thick flesh her fingertips plunge, pulling it with her in that waltz-like trace, "One, two," There's a strangled grunt that comes from the vents then as she exerts herself once more, pounding her fist into its ribs with such ferocity that she manages to drill those blunted tips betwixt the cage's rungs to tickle at newly exposed lungs.
"Mmvery GOOD!" She coos, "-Again-." A sinister bent edges in.
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 11.
It is now ob2's turn! ob3 is next!
ob2 attacks Saiorse...
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (10)+8: 18
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (1)+8: 9 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (18)+8: 26
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (6)+4: 10
GAME: You damaged Saiorse for 17 points. 7 HP remaining.
Having just gotten wounded by Saiorse's vicious attacks, ob2 responds with all its fury, landing a blow with one claw and another with its beak... It also managed to smack itself with its other claw.
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (5)+4: 9
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 8.
It is now ob3's turn! ob4 is next!
ob3 vs Vandred...
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (18)+8: 26
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (18)+8: 26
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 8: (15)+8: 23
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (2)+4: 6
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls 1d6+4: (2)+4: 6
GAME: You damaged Vandred for 19 points. 1 HP remaining.
ob3 vents his feral fury on the only humanoid within reach, but the damage isn't quite enough to kill. RAWR-HOOT!
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 6.
It is now ob4's turn! Delilah is next!
ob4, uninjured so far, but blinded, unleashes his wrath upon... a tree, doing harm to itself more than to its stalwart opponent.
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 4.
It is now Delilah's turn! Charity is next!
<OOC> Delilah will hit ob2 with magic missile, then.
GAME: Delilah casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 2 DC: 15
GAME: Delilah rolls 1d4+1: (2)+1: 3
Delilah has been mauled, and then some, and then woken back up by some kind of miracle of science. Or godly intervention. Or perhaps just dumb luck. Either way, she's laying on the ground in a large puddle of her own blood, wondering how it is that she's not dead. Oh well; at least Donna will be pleased, when she's still alive tomorrow, if she can manage to make that happen. On that note, she concentrates, without bothering to get up, on conjuring a sizzling ball of energy in her right hand, with runes up and down the same arm flaring into brilliance before she releases it, leaving a little scorch mark on one of the bears. Well done, D.
GAME: NEW ROUND!
Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round Three - Init 22.
It is now Charity's turn! Dubtle is next!
<OOC> Charity says, "Oh wait only one is actually up, near me, and able to hit me"
<OOC> Charity says, "I'll draw one from 2"
<OOC> Charity says, "So 3 gets a melee swing at me, claw or bite as it likes."
<OOC> Charity says, "AC 17"
<OOC> Ga'Elian skips AoO
<OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Actually, neither of the 2 near you is actually targetting you at the moment"
<OOC> Charity says, "If they're entitled but not taking it, that's fine by me!"
<OOC> Charity says, "I get one attack because RIP my flurry due to standing up, let's throw at 3."
GAME: Charity rolls melee: (19)+9: 28
GAME: Charity rolls 1d6+9: (1)+9: 10
<OOC> Ga'Elian is going to put that against 2 instead, as 3 is several squares away
<OOC> Charity says, "RIGHT, 2"
Rising up, like a MUSCLE PHOENIX, except... black and oiled up, and not red and feathery and on fire, Charity kips up in the periphery of one of the Owlbears, considers for a moment, and then spin kicks it with her bare foot. "Flee! Flee, and never trouble those of the logging profession again!"
GAME: ob2 removed from initiative list.
GAME: Ga'Elian advances the initiative order.
Round Three - Init 17.
It is now Dubtle's turn! Vandred is next!
<OOC> Dubtle says, "I will Ray of Enfeeblement one!"
GAME: Dubtle casts Ray of Enfeeblement. Caster Level: 3 DC: 14
GAME: Dubtle rolls ranged: (4)+3: 7
GAME: Ga'Elian removes the timestop.
Timestop by Ga'Elian has left.
Well, after blood is spilt all around, the last 2 remaining monsters are scared off as the lumberjacks come running to your aid, shouting and brandishing wicked-looking saws and axes. You've succeeded in bringing down this wild menace enough to rescue the stranded workers. They share the remainder of their "first aid supplies", and upon your return to civilization, you are profusely thanked by the lumberjacks' families. Huzzah!