The Journal of Herlam Corkwill - IC

[Neth]

Neth had become somewhat distracted after having made close acquaintance with the spider spinning himself a web under the table where she huddled. But even before the drow footsteps clattered into the building, Gyl heard their approach and squawked at her from his perch above the door. He huddled protectively over his bucket of Alchemist's fire, and every so often swiveled his owl head lazily around to check on his other bucket sitting on a rafter across the room, filled with water just in case the flames were not on their side. The last brawl had effectively taught him the painfully literal meaning of 'backfire'.

Being mindful to avoid the unfamiliar mass of thorns and spikes grown out from the end of her staff, Neth carefully shifts her position to be ready when the enemies appear. Just before they do, she takes a brief glance out at her companions — the two impostors, the others hidden, and the chair that was actually a Ryn — confident in their ability to work as a unit, hopeful for her own chance to be useful, and grinning in anticipation for the madness to come.

As the drow burst into the room, Gyl leaps up with the first bucket and tips out a surprise splash of burning welcome from above the door. Neth steadies her hands and mumbles a few syllables, but waits just a moment long enough to let her companions launch their own surprise greetings, before letting a modest wall of black smoke poof into existence before the noses of the lined up soldiers. She then waits hopefully for a few faces of dismal queasiness to appear as they stumble through the black curtain, and readies her staff for any who decide to squeeze out the clear opening on the side nearest her.

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Shillelagh is on the quarterstaff, and Resistance also cast just before combat, to last one minute. Gyl dumps Alchemist's fire directly above the door, and the Wall of Smoke stretches almost across the room, but doesn't quite reach. There are openings on either side, where she's hiding, and by the far wall. Hope this is okay... it should help disable them a little, perhaps? But it won't obscure anyone's vision until after they've done their surprise action!

edit: If Perelia is casting glitterdust to detect anything invisible with the group, we should be able to see the result of that before the smoke begins, right...?

[TheDivineWind]

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Gotta admit, I've never come across a group so dedicated to burning down their own stronghold.

Doroga was smoldering with anger. He had made a pledge and he had failed Herlam because he had not guarded the room from the inside. He had slept when he should have been attentitive. The thought brought fury to him in a way he had rarely experienced in his life. It was on this his mind was focused as he hid to the side of the main door, outside of the main areas of effect for the spells that would be slung about. He had taken elaborate effort to hide himself in a dark corner behind some spare furniture, creating a means for him to move quickly out from his cover and into the fray had also taken a degree of forethought.

He had explained his plan for himself, when he originally came up with the idea, with Ryn and the others and suggested that he should strike early on. After hearing ideas from the others in his company, he had a change of mind. Not only was the initial attack already planned out, it would likely catch him in the crossfire if he simply dove after the first drow through the door. Instead, Doroga decided to wait, hidden in his cover, until the Drow mages made themselves known.

So he crouched. His knees aching from staying undercover for so long. He had been there for nearly an hour now, and two hours before that, waiting for the strike. He wasn't skilled enough in stealth to hide himself quickly, so he had needed the time to prepare his spot, and the aid of others to make sure he blended in properly. The Drow had the ability to see in the dark, so he couldn't use the shadows to his advantage. He had included cover from spare tables and chairs, as well as some spare wooden planks.

After the first few waves of fighters, he figured, the mages would come in, or be attacking from outside. He couldn't bring himself to find a position on the roof or the exterior of the building for fear of being detected too early, or not being close enough to help his companions in an emergency. So the spot in the corner by the door would have to work. Either way, he could hit the attacking group from the back, and hopefully take down a couple before he is even detected and attacked.

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Take 20 on a hide check: [27]

[Keylac]

Lounging against the wall in the main room of the White Hart, Ryn contemplated being a chair.

He didn't have a lot else to think about. Today had been busy, but he was no stranger to manual labor, and had a lot of time to think while helping setup defenses. Then he'd had over an hour of waiting upstairs for the decoy "guards" to leave, before moving downstairs and taking his position by the door, covered by Perelia's illusion.

He'd thought about Herlam, and how he died, so soon after being given hope that he might escape his curse. Worse, Ryn new little about the creatures that had killed him, or their masters. He didn't like knowing so little, especially when they might come after the others - or Daurily, more likely - next.

He'd thought about the plan he'd devised to bloody the drow, in hopes they would leave the town alone. He wasn't sure if it would work, but he'd long since gotten into the habit of taking more risks, exposing himself to more danger, to keep other folk safe.

He'd thought about his companions, and what little he knew about them. He hadn't had time to hear their stories, find out what life was like where they came from. He was looking forward to that.

He'd even spent some time dwelling on Faud the Scar, wondering what had made the man turn on his people. Hate, Rage, Jealousy, Love? Probably money; that was the most common. At least he no longer felt bad about crushing him in the Melee.

Now, bereft of other things to think about, he contemplated being a chair.

He didn't think he'd like it very much. Being made of wood wasn't so bad, and he supposed he could put up with people sitting on his lap all the time. But to be stationary! To never go anywhere, do anything... that would be awful beyond belief.

Yes, Ryn decided, he was much happier being a person than being a chair.

Finally, he heard the attack on Ashbenford start. Banishing thoughts of furniture from his mind, he rolled his shoulders, stretching, as he prepared for the drow's arrival. They tromped in soon after, never seeming to give the chair that was Ryn a second glance.

For a moment, Ryn debated the merits of Priestess versus Mage. Normally, he'd want to kill the priestess first, out of principal, but then again, she might know something. Especially since the letter they'd taken from Otythir, Red Wizard of Thay, had seemed to indicate these weren't surface drow, and she would probably be in charge then...

With a mental shrug, Ryn surges away from the wall, all thoughts of furniture banished as he summoned a battle fury. He brought the greatsword down in an overhand blow down at the nearest mage. He seemed quite surprised; Ryn didn't blame him at all. He was, after all, quite the unusual chair.

OOC

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I'm going to use my Standard Action to attack (with Power Attack +4) the Mage closest to me, after using a Free Action to Rage.

Rolls

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Rolling Attack (Power Attack +4) versus Drow Mage: (1d20+7)[10]

Rolling Damage (Power Attack +4) versus Drow Mage: (2d6+17)[26]

Yeah.... I'm glad he's Flat Footed; gives me a least a tiny chance to hit... if he's not prepared... Ah well. At least I should have their attention

[Dragonsong]

It is difficult to play the role of a man who had just died, particularly if the man was someone you had come to care about. For Roen, despite all his years of training in subterfuge, it was nearly impossible. He seethed with rage, rage at the shadow-things and those who sent them and his goddess and himself. When Haldis had told him that there was joy out in the world that even he, a slave beaten every day, could find, he'd assumed that she knew because there was plenty of joy where she came from. That explanation now filled him with only bitterness.

He loved her with all his heart, and he always would, but he was beginning to think once again what he had thought when he first met her: she was deluded. In the time since he had begun to listen to her talk of the goddess of joy, he had lost her, his family, his allies, and any chance of returning to his homeland. When he'd gone far away from joyless Dambrath he had found criminals, power hungry wizards, merciless raiders, and shadow beasts that murdered old men. The world was bleak, that was the truth of it.

But there had been many times before when hiding his emotions had been necessary, and almost impossible was not the same as impossible. When the Drow burst into the inn, he initially made a show of surprise and fear, leaning against "Daurily" as he thought the old man might have. But when the alchemist's fire fell, cutting off access to the door, that feigned panic fell away and was replaced by a cold smile. "Surprise," he hissed, his voice full of venom. Then he raised his crossbow.

He remembered feeling like this, before Haldis came into his life. Desperate to hurt someone, to make someone else feel the pain he felt inside. The difference was that he could do it now. Remembering the priestesses of Loviatar, the feel of their lashes on his back, he set his sights on the female Drow leader and fired twice in rapid succession, taking advantage of the surprise to aim for the kidneys; armor tended to be thinner there to allow mobility, and it was a nasty place to be hit.

He'd never been good at saving people; what had happened had only helped to prove that. But by the gods he was good at killing people, and whatever guilt he had felt for this skill before had burned away in the fires of his rage.

[The Smoking Man]

The White Hart Inn:

Perelia's glitterdust reveals nothing in the area of the Common Room of the WHite Hart as the drow make their entrance.

A general murmur of alarm goes up among the drow party as the dancing lights move about them. The two mages and the priestess seem unaffected, though the soldiers all struggle with sudden blindness. Though confused and blind, they maintain their discipline.

The topmost mage, arrogant in his violet and black Sorcere robes, did not seem so imposing when alchemist's fire and Ryn rained down upon him. The alchemist's fire did some damage, but Ryn's wild strike had missed. He stepped back, and, overcoming the searing pain of the alchemist's fire, launched a spell into Ryn: a scorching ray, that misses the warrior and scorches a hanging tapestry on the wall behind him.

Doroga is in good position to attack either the second mage or a soldier (#5 soldier, in order from top to bottom).

Roen's bolts fly true, striking the sturdy priestess of Lolth in the chest and abdomen of her armor. She quails, not yet defeated, raising her fearsome whip to point at Roen. For her part, she casts a loathsome curse upon the rogue: Mark of the Outcast. As the spell takes effect and Roen feels his mind relenting to the demonic forces behind it, a hideous, black mark crawls across his face, embedding itself, making the skin there feel numb and cold. (Roen now takes -5 to Diplomacy and Bluff for the duration of the spell and a -2 on AC. Spell lasts until dispelled).

The second mage, enraged at the unexpected ambush, casts a flaming sphere above Perelia's head. She manages to dodge its first pass, but the roiling flame continues to hover...

The wall of gaseous shadow appears at the behest of Neth, who now stands ready by her hiding place.

A blinded drow soldier (#3 in order form top to bottom), seemingly in control despite his hindered state, makes a careful swing for Ryn, which manages to get within the warrior's defenses, but alas, misses anything save a strap on Ryn's armour.

The rest of the drow soldiers remain stationary, taking up careful defensive positions until something can be done about their blindness.

OOC:

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- NUMBERING ALL NPCs FROM TOP TO BOTTOM BASED ON THE MAP
- Mage#1 has been hit with alchemist's fire. The priestess dodged her splash damage, and Mage#2 took his one point of fire damage.
- The Priestess has been wounded quite profoundly by Roen's anger-shots, and has subsuquently cursed him with Mark of the Outcast (from FR: Underdark).
- The Soldiers have been blinded, but it appears that at least a few of them have been trained in Blind-Fighting (being underdark creatures, after all). This allowed one to attack Ryn, but missed anyway.
- IT IS NOW THE PARTY's TURN! DOROGA: Please post your readied action as quick as possible so it can resolve before everyone does their next round's worth of stuff.
- Thanks folks! Expect me to be keeping up with this combat regularly. I'm trying to right my schedule so there will be no more ridiculous delays. If I missed anything please let me know and forgive my oversight.

[TheDivineWind]

Doroga spots the mage, watching carefully as he completes the motions that bring forth something that looked like an animated ball of burning sponge. As soon as the smug satisfaction of a spell completed crosses the drow's face, Doroga snaps forward his Guisarme and goes to hook the unsuspecting mage's feet out from under him.

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aaaaaand if that fails (likely. Screw you dice gods)
http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=13913466&postcount=155

[RaggedAngel]

Perelia takes a quick step back, moving away from the burning sphere, though she knows that it will have little trouble avoiding her. She looks to the opposing mage, and her lips curl up in a distinctly chilling manner. "A battle of magic, is it. Well. Magic it will be." She slips a piece of red cloth out of her spell component pouch, and with clear, clean words she begins to enunciate a spell of summoning.

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Summon Swarm has a 1 round casting time. She's making spiders.

[Dragonsong]

Taking a grim, bloody satisfaction in the effect of his first two shots, Roen hardly saw the retribution coming. Suddenly claws of darkness scrabbled at his mind, opening his head as if shattering a wooden crate and drinking the warmth within. He felt alone, despised; it was a feeling he had grown used to at times in his life, but this... this curse dragged them all up at once, leaving him dizzy with remembered sorrow. Yet it did nothing to temper his hate, and he loosed again, aiming at the source of the spell in the hopes of ending their little duel once and for all.

He doubted that a single bolt would do the trick, but aim had become important now that she new he was dangerous.

[TheDivineWind]

Doroga curses and turns his attention to the drow warrior in front of him, first dipping a bit and then sweeping his weapon around in him a flourish, bringing it into a short haft grip and whipping it across the drow's knees in an attempt to trip him.

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Touch: (1d20+9)[20]
Str Check: (1d20+3)[13]
(counter ;_;): (1d20+3)[13]

Hit roll: (1d20+9)[15]
Damage: (2d4+4)[6]

Better rolls this time!

[Keylac]

Ryn sighed to himself. He kept missing people, and frankly, it was getting annoying. Here he was, a well trained warrior, and apparently any schmuck mage with a spell on could manage to evade him.

On the upside, he thought, stepping forward and bringing his blade back around, no one dodged forever. He'd pit his endurance against the mages any day.

OOC

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I'm still not sure if I should be posting, but everyone else is anyways, and I'd rather not contribute to the slowdown, so here goes.

Another attack, this one with no Power Attack. Maybe I can actually hit him then This is against the same target and before, unless Doroga is attacking him, in which case I'll switch to the other mage.

Rolls

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Rolling Attack against Mage: (1d20+11)[23]

Rolling Damage against Mage: (2d6+11)[15]

Damage included +2 damage versus Favored Enemy: Arcanist, so if he's only pretending to be a mage, damage is 2 less.