IC - Shattered: Land of the Lost

[Kio]

Chapter One: The Tower

The heat is merciless.

The sun is huge and white, hanging in a cloudless sky, drifting inexorably towards the west. The sands of the Tower's Desert drink up the heat endlessly and happily push it back at you from below, threatening to burn exposed flesh and flash boil any sweat that falls into it. There are no landmarks in sight besides The Tower, nothing but a small, ghostly structure in the distance which shimmers and dances behind waves of hot air.

The Tower is a strange place, shrouded in mystery, and difficult to reach. The desert surrounding the tower is nearly impossible to navigate, since it is plagued by sandstorms, strange and vicious Gnoll Raiding Tribes, as well as huge hills and valleys which take the only notable landmark (The Tower) out of sight. Many travelers refer to it as nothing but a death trap, since even after you manage to reach the tower, there are no landmarks by which to find your way out of the desert. Your own tracks are gone in a matter of minutes, and the dunes and pits of the landscape are always changing.

It is a strange circumstance that brings each of you here. you were each approached independently by a crooked figure, shrouded in rags. The figure spoke to you strangely, speaking in a dialect that none of you can quite identify. The figure explained to you that they have found a scroll from the old world, sheltered in a glassed-over cave far outside the reaches of the Empire. The scroll apparently tells of a secret, hidden within a mighty tower to the west. The figure claims to have identified the tower as the one in the Tower's Desert, and implores your help in discovering the secret within the tower, assuring you that you will succeed. The crooked figure offers up a reward of ten Gold Marks for your trouble (A veritable fortune, as coins and currency have become scarce, and the Empire has only recently begun to create more of their own Marks, stamped with Lord Trevnar's symbol. Both Imperial Gold Marks and Gold Marks salvaged from the World Before are extremely valuable, and people can often get goods and services simply by having one in their possession).

Before you can divine much more, or try to attack the stranger, they tell you to venture into the Tower's Desert only on the longest day of the Hottest Season, and that when you reach the tower, you will meet "Others of like and kind. Kehehe..."

Then the stranger is gone, slinking away into the shadows from whence they came.

For whatever reason, you have decided to come. You have spent some time and money preparing for the journey, and set out into Tower's Desert with three days until the Hottest Season's Longest Day. Now, you have been traveling through the sands for two days, and your food and water are running low, but that is not your only problem. Some of the Gnoll Raiding Tribes have caught wind of your passage and have been tracking you since yesterday. They close in, their shapes wavering at the edges of your vision at all times. They skirt and taunt you from afar, and you can hear their cackles echoing over the hills of the desert. If you turn to try and attack, they stay a half-mile from you, cackling and taunting you, letting the blistering heat do the fighting for them. They try to push you off course, shooting arrows occasionally to drive you down into valleys where they might surround you. You have managed to survive, but you have gone without sleep because of the Gnoll Raiders' constant threat.

Finally, you reach The Tower. It is not in fact, very tall. It is a low structure (Wider than it is tall) with no doors on the outer walls, only thin windows twenty feet up on smooth stone. One side of the structure has been destroyed, leaving a huge pile of rubble that tapers down and forms a haphazard ramp up to the exposed innards of the structure. Bits and chunks of what may have once been tall spires lie strewn around the structure in a wide radius. Bits of broken, primitive sandstone arches still exist, making a rough circle around the Tower. The rubble offers a limited amount of shade and shelter from both the sun and the raiders. The Gnolls stay at a distance, for now...

- Each of you have sustained 5 points of damage from heat exposure and exhaustion.
- You are all currently Fatigued
- Please convert your current Money to "Marks" a the following conversion rate:
1,000 GP = 1 Gold Mark
100 GP = 1 Silver Mark
10 GP = 1 Copper Mark
Anything below 10 GP is usually traded via goods and services rather than Currency. Either spend this on supplies or round the remainder up to 1 Copper Mark
- You are each prepared for the journey. You each have rations of food and water with enough for a single meal/ person. (this is in addition to any food or water already marked on your sheets)

[Athaleon]

Calas was more weary than he'd ever been in his life, too parched to sweat and too tired to pant. But he was still buoyed a little by elation at having reached his destination—for the welcome shade, if nothing else. With his hand on his sword-hilt, he considered entering the tower, but decided that as long as the gnolls kept their distance, he'd best catch his breath in the shade outside before venturing in. Anything could be in there, after all, and he was told that he'd meet "others like him" in this forsaken waste. As if on cue, some other figures resolved through the heat shimmer as they approached, and Calas turned to meet them, sipping from a waterskin as he waited.

[Gwynfrid]

It was an exhausted young man who made it to the Tower, constantly casting worried glances behind him, wondering how long he could keep this up - and whether it mattered, if the gnolls were going to attack anyway.

The newcomer might have been young, but what was striking about him was the frightful aspect of his body and face, covered in multiple crisscrossing scars. This was all the more off-putting as he had very youthful, beautiful blue eyes and fine blond hair, his only non-damaged physical features, the contrast calling even more attention to his ruined skin. He wore the clothes of a humble farmer, his only weapon a sickle that looked more appropriate for harvesting than fending off any gnoll or other enemy.

"Anyone in here?"

I'm keeping this neutral, expecting you to edit your post and not wanting to force you in a particular direction. We can begin dialog any way you wish to.

Edited to switch to past tense storytelling.

[TheFederalist]

It was almost like a joke, the way Zymandia was walking through the dunes, making a swift (for her level of exhaustion) bee line towards the only building aside from the many static waves of sand that surrounded her. Her posture was giving way to gravity, and her usually annoyed face was dipping to an expression of utter distaste. "One would imagine" she said out loud, unclear whether she was speaking to herself or the gnolls in the distance, "that having floating ****ing hair that is literally fire means that you don't have to worry about the heat, but no, of course not, Zymandia's gotta deal with this just like everyone else, doesn't she? Literally the one thing I get to be human on, absolutely wonderful."" She was quite aware that she was likely being watched, what with the many run ins she had already had with the hunters of the desert, and she was also aware of the comedic value she was probably provided them, being talking food and all, but she had begun to not care.

Slowly raising her neck, she took one more look at 'The Tower', which seemed like a terrible misnomer at this point. A squat building that pulled out of the sand was hardly a tower, now was it? But out of her own odd inner thoughts, her conscious brain burst out once she noticed that there were already figures that were near the building. Putting two and two together was not difficult, and she immediately assumed that they were probably the 'others' the odd man had spoken about.

Unless those figures in the distance were just mirages. Or gnolls setting up a trap. Or...

With a renewed burst of vigor, Zymandia straightened her almost comically bent back to what could be considered normal, and began to speed up her pace. She glanced behind her, watching the rising dunes for any activity, but as there was none that she could tell, she continued on. "Heyo!" she called from a minimal distance from the Tower, to the others.

[Snowbluff]

Doctor Jack Ryan

Ryan had already arrived. He's sitting, his small horns obscured by a wide brimmed hat, and his hail hidden under a duster. He doesn't respond to Athaleon's query. He's very still, almost unrecognizable as a living creature.

[Carissacat]

"Fur. Why'd I have to have fur?"

Miala is panting by the time 'The Tower' swims into view. The heat was bad enough, but the gnolls were relentless and she couldn't afford to waste bullets on them. Not when her real destination could be even more dangerous. When the Tower did come into view she thought at first it could be a mirage, so magnificent was its stony presence to her. The crumbling ruins, the lack of doors, its strange shape, the arches and broken buildings. An archaeologists heaven. She would have jumped for joy if she had the energy. As she got closer she could see the hazy shapes of some figures standing in the ruins.

"Others of like and kind huh? Hope the crazy old hoot was right..."

[Kio]

And so, they all met in the broken shade of the ruins around The Tower. All of them on guard, all of them weary. Finally, with the broken arches of stone blotting out the sun, they didn't have to squint quite as much to see each other. All of them knew better than to immediately trust these strangers, but no-one was immediately hostile, which was a good sign at the very least. The sun tilts slightly past it's highest point in the sky, and the shadows ever-so-slowly shift towards the east.

Out on the hills, the whoops and barks of the hyenas can be heard. They mocked and jeered in their native language, cursing the wanderers to painful deaths, and taunting them with the anticipation of being eaten. The Gnolls didn't seem bothered that their prey had found the ruins. It would have been nice if they had simply dropped dead from exhaustion, but not all prey was so easy. Sometimes finer, more direct tactics were required. The creatures were never quiet, and the travelers could make out their wavering forms stalking the dunes in the distance. Arrows fly towards the ruins, falling short and burying into the sand or bouncing off of stones.

Three minutes later, anyone watching would swear that they'd gotten maybe fifty yards closer...

[Athaleon]

"Welcome, my new friends," Calas said with as theatrical of a mock bow as he could muster given his fatigue. "Name's Cal."

Once the gnolls started taking pot shots at the tower, Calas turned to his companions and asked "Are they shooting short on purpose? And look at how slowly they're moving up. I'd almost think they were trying to herd us inside the tower. Then again, what else can we do?" he asked with a sigh. "Can't exactly ride out to meet them, unless one of you is a far more powerful mage than our appearances would suggest."

[TheFederalist]

Zymandia looked at the others who'd gathered around the Tower with one crooked eye, before saying "Pleased. I'm Zymandia." When Cal mentioned the gnolls' activities, she took one tired look behind the group to notice the arrows that had plopped into the sand without even alerting her. Exhaustion clearly made her unalert, which was going to be a problem in the Tower. "In any other circumstance, I would have given you the sort answer of 'Yes, I'm a formidable mage. Let us go towards the enemy so I may cast my signature spell, fist to the face.' But clearly, this isn't any other circumstance. I suppose we'd better go into the Tower and hope that we didn't just jump out of the frying pan."

[Gwynfrid]

A powerful... mage? Where does he think we come from? Caarten's eyes went wide open in wonder at the young man's outlandish speculation. The... well, let's call her the fiery woman for now, for all her weird looks at least seemed to have her mind set on realities. And then, a cat-lady, and a... Er... what is that exactly? The strange assortment of people coincidentally finding themselves in this gods-forsaken location, couldn't be the effect of chance.

"Greetings." However strange these people were, it was probably advisable to be polite. "My name is Caarten". The scarred man spoke in a deep, pleasant and reassuring voice, only sligthly marred by thirst and the dust he had swallowed on the harrowing walk.

"I take it you have been promised gold and mysteries, too? We have found the tower, and... companions, as promised. More than I was hoping for, actually." He cast a worried glance at the gnolls in the distance, evaluating the trajectory of an arrow that seemed destined for him, but fell short.

He turned to Cal with a nod: "In any case, you're right, we have little choice, and at least, inside their arrows will be a lesser concern." He had hoped for a bit of rest, but it wasn't to be. "I am no warrior, and I don't long for a fight." He gestured to the collapsed wall. "This way, do you think?"

[Snowbluff]

Doctor Ryan looks up. "Inside is better. We can force the gnolls to bottle neck here, as well as limit the advantage they have from multiple shooters." He doesn't mention that he could easily slip by them with his abilities. "I know a few tricks, but we'd be better off if we could move further in," he says gruffly.

[Athaleon]

"I'll be damned," Cal suddenly said quickly, "the archers are a diversion. Get inside, quickly. Thirteen gnolls, about to sneak into the tower, trying to take us by surprise. Let's meet them before the shooters can move in to help. Careful, these ones are clever." Without waiting for the others to go first, he drew his sword and made for the entrance to the ruins.


Having the Black Blade in hand grants Calas the Alertness feat (+2 Perception and Sense Motive). Using a point from the Arcane Pool to enhance the weapon to +3 Keen for 1 minute.

I suppose I should have my daily spells written down.

Cantrips: Detect Magic, Read Magic, Arcane Mark, Dancing Lights

Level 1: Shield x2, Grease, Shocking Grasp x2

Level 2: Glitterdust, Invisibility

[Carissacat]

Maila, who had been distracted by the architecture and looking at the nature of the crumbling ruins turns to look at the rest of the party
"An ambush? Yeah that makes sense for them, the sneaky little... Anyway yes moving in sounds great, I'll see if I can find some higher ground to get a better look"

I'm going to try and see if any of the rubble is strong enough to support her as she tries to get to higher ground
Here's my climb roll if she manages to find anything [roll0]

[TheFederalist]

Zymandia wasn't quite used to camouflage as a concept, having never encountered it, but her vision was still good enough to spot the gnolls with their antics. "Thirteen? The term 'absolutely bollocks' comes to mind here. You're right, time is of the essence. Find their entry point and take in some of them. Then take on the rest. Or avoid them altogether but that hardly sounds sporting. she said, as she bent her knees, and ducked into the opening of the Tower, with the pretense of having noticed nothing.

[Gwynfrid]

"Well spotted!" Caarten looked at Calas with newfound respect. He had seen the gnolls sneaking around as one of them moved to just where he happened to be looking, but the young man's eyesight was even sharper. The scarred mystic ran inside as instructed, wondering if there was any hope of surviving such a concerted assault.

[Kio]

After spotting the Gnolls, they quickly rushed towards The Tower's crumbling excuse for an "Entrance." Long ago, something had blasted away a huge chunk of The Tower's structure, leaving large open gash about thirty feet up the smooth stone surface. Now, a gigantic swollen sand-drift (dotted all over with broken bits of black stone) bridges the gap between the desert and The Tower. The strange pieces of rubble along with the peculiar shape of the drift gave it the look of a strange spined beast.

They all managed to make it to the sand-drift, and began the work of trying to ascend it. Progress was slow, as the sand gave and slid at every opportunity.

It seemed then that the archers had gotten the hint that their prey had noticed the trap. Suddenly, the wavering figures at the edges of their vision were advancing, much faster than before. The Gnolls began yipping and cackling even louder now, celebrating the hunt. When they got within a decent range, they began to notch arrows once more.

Malia, glancing about, noticed the pillar of a broken sandstone archway near to the sand-drift. It was covered in dips and gashes, and there was even a broken arrow sticking out from the soft stonework that must have managed to find a crack. It was easy to climb. Malia reached the sundered tip of the 20-foot pillar in no-time, and looked around for a quick scan of the area. There, sure as day, were the strange moving lumps of sand that had been revealed to be disguised Gnolls. They were no longer moving as stealthily as before, and they were closer, so it was easier to see them. The blazing sun glinted off of their black, hunting eyes, which could be seen underneath the horrifying strips of flesh that they had fashioned into a kind of camouflage armor. Looking down on them, she could now see that each of them was carrying one white spear (Perhaps made of bone) and one wicked looking metal hook attached to some sort of chain.

The group (Besides Malia) had a head start up the drift towards the tower entrance, and a bit of cover from the rubble covering the hill. Seven of the Gnolls reach the base of the hill when the group-members are already 25-ft. up. They each let loose their white spears hoping to skewer a victim.

- Attack vs. Caarten
Attack [roll0] (+2 Dex, -2 range)
Defense [roll1]
Damage [roll2] (+2 Str, -5 Protection)

- Attack vs. Jack Ryan
Attack [roll3] (+2 Dex, -2 range)
Defense [roll4]
Damage [roll5] (+2 Str, -5 Protection)

- Attack vs. Jack Ryan 2
Attack [roll6] (+2 Dex, -2 range)
Defense [roll7]
Damage [roll8] (+2 Str, -5 Protection)

- Attack vs. Zymandia
Attack [roll9] (+2 Dex, -2 range)
Defense [roll10]
Damage [roll11] (+2 Str, -0 Protection)

- Attack vs. Zymandia 2
Attack [roll12] (+2 Dex, -2 range)
Defense [roll13]
Damage [roll14] (+2 Str, -0 Protection)

- Attack vs. Calas
Attack [roll15] (+2 Dex, -2 range)
Defense [roll16]
Damage [roll17] (+2 Str, -0 Protection)

- Attack vs. Calas 2
Attack [roll18] (+2 Dex, -2 range)
Defense [roll19]
Damage [roll20] (+2 Str, -0 Protection)



They heaved, and and a volley of spears flew. The sounds of excited yips mingle with the sounds of painful whimpers as, in their eagerness, a couple of the Gnolls accidentally skewer each other. One falls dead, a bone spear launched cleanly through his mangy neck. Another whimpers terribly, struck in the side, dropping to it's knees and scrambling desperately to try and remove it.

The spears buried themselves deep into the sand beside the feet of Calas and Zymandia. Jack Ryan wasn't so lucky. Suddenly, there was a white hot pain in the back of Jack Ryan's leg. A terrible tugging sensation, and suddenly the leg went completely limp. Dead weight.

The group (even the Doctor) manage to pull themselves up to the huge opening in the side of The Tower. There is a jagged lip and a four-foot drop down into a large shaded chamber. The space is one single contiguouscircular room. The entirety of the floor is covered with a layer of sand, which gets thinner as it get's farther from the opening. The only thing immediately obvious about the room is that there are three huge pillars arranged around a small pedestal at the absolute center of the room. To the east, the rubble of what used to be a staircase leads up to a hole in the ceiling. Most of the room is shaded, and there is an immediate temperature change upon entering.

[Athaleon]

"Looks like as good a place as any, to turn and meet them. Give 'em hell as they climb and hopefully they'll go off in search of easier prey. Hell," he snorted derisively, as he put away his sword in favor of a crossbow, "they've lost two for one of ours wounded. Can you heal that, doctor?"

[Gwynfrid]

Caarten nodded, with a sigh. If we are to survive, we need to be in better shape for this battle, he thought resignedly, looking at the blood flowing freely from the tiefling's ankle.

Kneeling on the floor, the child of the miracle joined his hands, bowed his head and closed his eyes in concentration. A strange yellow light started to emanate from him, irradiating from his chest and covering the entire chamber and his companions.

When he stood up, a fresh gash was visible on his face, red with a bit of blood oozing.

Channel Energy [roll0]

I don't think I'm very clear about the exact DC for the Will save and how much damage can result from this. Nevertheless, here's the save:
Will [roll1]

Based on channeling being equivalent to a 2nd level spell: 1 damage.

[Snowbluff]

"What, just because I'm a tiefling, I'm suddenly know how to heal wounds," the doctor complains. "Also, yes," he mumbles

Jack drinks a potion of Cure light wounds, followed by an Iron Skin tincture.



[roll0]

[Kio]

What happened next should have been impossible. In fact, by any law of nature or correctness, it WAS impossible. But it happened anyway. When Caarten got down onto his knees and began to shed the strange light, everyone in the room felt a soft tingling in their chest, which quickly expanded into a strange, inexplainable pleasant feeling. It was warm and cool at the same time, and it washed over and through them like a drink of fresh water.

The spear, which was, only a moment ago, embedded inside of the doctor's leg, quite suddenly drew itself out, splashing droplets of fresh blood into the sand as it fell to the floor. The glow from Caarteen subsided, and left the air buzzing and charged. Those present felt their hair (if they have it) standing on end, and those perceptive enough would notice tiny electrical shocks between their fingertips for a fraction of a second.

Then, even after this, the doctor takes a drought from his own vial. As soon as he drinks it, a powerful burning sensation begins in his throat, and he begins to glow from the inside, as if the potion he drank was some sort of explosive. The glow spreads down throughout his whole body. The others couldn't see it beyond his thick gear, but the doctor could feel it. It felt like he had swallowed molten lava. It was only a few seconds before the wound on his leg began to glow white hot. The open wound began to sizzle and bubble, and the smell of burning flesh filled the room.

The bone inside the doctor's legs began to knit together, then the veins, then the muscles. After a few seconds, the leg was whole once more, covered by a new layer of red, agitated hairless (but unbroken) flesh.

Not but a moment after this, the doctor pours one more vial of something down his throat. This time, there was no glow, but it did taste something like Earl Grey Tea mixed with motor oil. It takes a few moments, but the doctor's flesh begins to wrinkle and change color, becoming darker, and gaining a slightly more light-catching sheen.

The flesh-draped gnolls outside began the climb up the small sand-hill. Even though they were skilled at traversing the dessert's harsh terrain, they were still slowed slightly by the shifting sands of the drift.

They snarled and snapped their jaws, clambering up the sand-drift with a determination bred from ravenous hunger. The closer they got, the more obvious it became that they were eager for their meal. Drool and saliva was already hanging from their jewels, and the hungry glint in their eyes was sharp enough to draw blood.

Still, their starvation didn't completely overcome their senses. Those who could pulled their spears from the sand where they had landed, and brandished them up at the hole where they knew their prey was waiting.

[Athaleon]

"No, because you're a doctor," Calas replied to the tiefling as he sent a bolt down the ramp towards the flesh-draped gnolls.


If he is in a position to do so this round, Calas will shoot his crossbow at the gnolls, then duck back into cover and draw his sword.

Attack [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Otherwise, he will stay in cover, draw his sword, enhance it with his Arcane Pool to +3 Keen (Will save required?) and ready an action to attack the first gnoll that gets within reach.

Will: [roll2]

[Snowbluff]

Doctor Jack Ryan

Jack shakes his head after imbibing his drinks. "That's some interesting voodoo light shows you have going there," Doctor Ryan says after seeing the channel energy from the cleric. "I'd rather stick to my mixtures. It's hard to compete with science, especially when it does such a good job waking you up. It really gets the heart racing."

When Calas takes cover after firing down the hall, Jack takes out his bow and fires as well.



[roll0]
[roll1]

[Gwynfrid]

"I'm not of the greatest use in a fight, I'm afraid", Caarten said as he took his scythe out. "Still, there's no point just waiting to be slaughtered." A resolute air on his face, he took position just next to the entrance.

Ready action, if any enemy gets near: Trip [roll0]

[Carissacat]

Maila watches Caarten somewhat in awe. Her magics had never done that... Still, it was time to show these guys exactly what she had up her sleeve. Or at least under her coat. Making a mental tally of how much ammunition she had available to her, she drew her pistol and aimed into the drooling mass below.

Attack:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1]

[Kio]

Defense roll vs. Calas (18) [roll0]
Defense roll vs. Jack (14) [roll1]
Defense roll vs. Caarteen (7) (trip attampt) [roll2]
Defense roll vs. Malia (16) [roll3]

I----------n roll [roll4]
Calas let loose a bolt at the front-runner on the group, and the bolt found purchase inside the gnoll's mangy neck. the beast staggered, clawing at it's throat, then fell into the sand, and was trampled by the gnolls behind. If the bolt didn't kill him, his comrades did.

Jack let an arrow fly, and the gnoll the arrow was headed for ducked out of the way, then let out a whoop of exhilaration, advancing with the mob.

When Malia squeezed the trigger, she felt the subtle click from inside the weapon, and then the roaring buck of the gun against her palm. The sound of the blast filled the room and reverberated amongst the baked ruins all around. The bullet shredded through one of the gnolls, and left it's with enough force to embed itself into the gnoll just behind him. The first let out a gurgling yelp, and collapsed into the sand, writhing in pain.

The Gnolls froze, eyes on Malia. There was a beat of indecision, where it seemed as though the booming sound of the gunshot may have surprised them, or even spooked them. The gnoll that had been leading the charge was now broken and bloodied, a bolt in his neck, so the hesitation lasted just a moment too long. The threat of starvation overpowered the fear of the gun quickly, and the mob of gnolls (2 wounded, 2 killed, 9 moving) began whooping and barking again, four of them managing to jump inside and make attacks!

- Attack vs. Caarten
Attack (1d20+2)[3] (+2 Str)
Defense (1d20+3)[5]
Damage (1d8-2)[6] (+3 Str (1.5), -5 Protection)

- Attack vs. Jack Ryan
Attack (1d20+2)[15] (+2 Str)
Defense (1d20+9)[19]
Damage (1d8-2)[3] (0) (+3 Str (1.5), -9 Protection)

- Attack vs. Calas
Attack (1d20+2)[5] (+2 Str)
Defense (1d20+13)[21]
Damage (1d8+3)[8] (+3 Str (1.5), -0 Protection)

- Attack vs. Malia
Attack 1d20+0 (15) (+2 Str) Defense (1d20+10)[17]
Damage (1d8)[5] (+3 Str (1.5), -3 Protection)

The gnolls jabbed and slashed with their spears, but the group was ready for them, ducking and dodging, avoiding the attacks. The gnoll which Malia had shot let out a whoop of rage and heaved his spear at her. She managed to shift out of the way, and the glistening white object flew past her, just grazing the tip of one of her whiskers. The gnoll stomped and whooped in rage, reaching for the wicked looking hooked chain at his waist.

[Athaleon]

Calas stepped back, dropped his crossbow and swept his blade from its scabbard. He cut at the nearest Gnoll to put it on the defensive, before darting back and casting a spell at the top of the ramp.


Using Spell Combat: Attacking, taking a 5' step back, and casting Grease (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/g/grease) (DC 16) in the spot where the Gnolls are jumping in.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Will Save for the cast: [roll2]

[Gwynfrid]

His eyes wide with fear, Caarten attempted to push back at the gnoll in front of him, using his sickle backwards.

non-lethal attack [roll0] damage [roll1] (using the Blade of Mercy trait)

[Snowbluff]

Jack steps to flank a gnoll, then slashes at it's arteries with a dagger.



Did i have a way to add dex to melee? IDR
Damage [roll]1d4[ [roll1] and 3 bleeding

[Kio]

Gnoll's defense vs. Calas' attack (must beat 13) [roll0]
Grease spell effects:
[roll1]

DC 16
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

[roll6]
[roll7]
[roll8]
[roll9]

Gnoll's defense vs. Jack Ryan's attack (must beat 9) [roll10]

Calas swung his sword, and felt the blade sliding through fur and flesh. The gnoll he had swung at yelped and stumbled backward, bloodied. Calas reached out his hand and gripped at the magic. At first, it didn't respond, but Calas' nerve didn't fail. He grasped again, and the magic flinched, then began squirming furiously, trying to escape. Calas gripped it without hesitation, and whispered to it, instructing it quickly. It whined, pricking and burning at his skin, but it had no choice but to comply.

... or at least pretend to.

Calas flung the magic down at the floor and it slithered into the sand. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the floor began to rumble, and sift, and shudder. Up from the sands came bubbles, then streams, then geysers of strange, stinking, oily, greasy fluid. Is splashed and spread, soaking trough and muddying the sands with vicious intent. It spread from the inside of the tower out and down half the slope of the sand-drift, turning the dry sand slick and muddy, and making it toss and churn like stormy seas.

This was not the exact effect that Calas had been looking for, and he knew it. Despite Calas' practice and mastery of his magic, it seemed that the magic had taken his intent in stride.

The surprised gnolls on the ridge all lost their footing. They each fell, and as soon as their bodies touched the magic-swollen sand, it swallowed them whole. Slowly. The sand pulled them under with wicked glee.

Jack grabbed the gnoll closest to him, slipping under the creature's snapping jaws, and slitting it's throat cleanly. It staggered for a moment, seeming almost confused, before stumbling backward out of the tower entrance and being. Consumed in the sands.

Caarteen, panicked by seeing the looming, slobbering jaws of the gnoll, struck out with surprising force! Not only this, but the gnoll chose an inopportune moment to take a surprised glance at the floor as it began to churn. The back of Caarteen's blade clocked the gnoll squarely on the top of his skull (knocking him out cold instantly), and sent the beast hurtling backwards at an alarming rate. the unconscious gnoll landed on the sand outside the Tower's entrance, sliding quite freely (Thanks to the muddy, greasy floor) his unconscious skull made contact with the foot of the only gnoll left standing: The one who was about to swing his chain at Malia.

The gnoll with the chain immediately fell to the sand, his yelps of surprise quickly turning to yelps of terror as the magic tugged him down, burying him alive in a fresh, unmarked tomb.

Within seconds, it was over. All that was left was a lone, terrified gnoll, covered in grease and sand, lying on the floor within the Tower.

The gnolls outside who had been jeering and whooping a moment before, were now high-tailing into the desert, the hot, dancing air turning them into mere smudges before too long.

Calas. The magic worked with a strange, vigorous effort, but it drained you unexpectedly. You lose 6 hit points.

[Carissacat]

Malia watches, hand over her eyes to block the sun as the gnolls run off into the distance. "Phew that was a close one. Glad I didn't have to waste more bullets" Shimming down to join the rest of the group Maila lands nearly silently on the ground before standing up and brushing off her hands. She claps Calas on the back with a paw.

"Nice work there" she says, gesturing towards the new oil pit. "Might have been a much longer fight without it." She looks round at everyone, freshly adrenaline fueled from their recent fight.

"Lets rest up and share some stories before we head further into this place. Those Gnolls shouldn't be back any time soon and I'm starving"

[Gwynfrid]

Caarten barely believed his luck when his weapon miraculously sent his attacker down for the count, and even less so when the amazing magic wielded by the tall, slim man sends the entire gnoll group in disarray. Giddy with relief, he still noticed the marks of strain on his companion.

"Are you all right? That was an incredible display of power..." he said simply, the awe obvious in his tone. Nodding appreciatively to his other companions, he added: "I sure am glad we have met you. Looks like it was exactly the right time and place to be with a band of strong warriors... Which, I'm sure you noticed, I am not."

[Athaleon]

Calas was all but deaf to the praise, as he reeled with the backlash of the unexpectedly powerful magic. The easy confidence he'd shown before was now gone, but he regained enough composure to stand steadily and keep his sword in hand. "Thank you, though that even took me by surprise. Now, what do we do about that?" he asked as he gestured to the lone surviving gnoll huddled before them.

[Kio]

The Gnoll curls up closer to itself when it is referred to and makes tiny, terrified wimpers, as if it's hoping that if it makes itself small enough you will forget that it exists. It is obviously badly shaken.

[Athaleon]

After a pause, Calas turned to the remaining gnoll, brandished his sword at it, and pointed down the ramp with his other hand. "**** off out of here," Calas gestured to the Gnoll and pointed back down the ramp. "Before I change my mind. Go!"

[Gwynfrid]

Already weary of all the bloodshed and not eager to see any more of it, Caarten was happy to let the gnoll go.

[Kio]

The gnoll hesitated for only a moment. There was a fear in the air, the kind that could shatter like glass, and turn into violence or hysteria. Then the gnoll got up and scrambled over the edge of the lip of the room. It sprinted down part of the slope, then tripped and fell the rest of the way. It set off at a bee-line for the nearest dune, and soon disappeared.

The group was finally alone in the Tower. Alone in that large circular room, accompanied by nothing but sand, a ruined staircase, and the strange structure at it's center. Currently, you all stand at the room's jagged entrance...

[Athaleon]

Once the gnoll was gone, Calas seemed to sag a little with weariness as he sheathed his sword. "Well. Hopefully he'll tell the others what just happened, and they'll leave us alone. Suppose there's nothing left now but to search the tower for... whatever it is we came out here for?"