|With a gag in your mouth, no one can hear you scream|
Last week's game was a highly distracted session, where the most vile beast was the heretofore unknown "Research Assistant" in all of it's varied guises. That and drop ins. Last week was almost a wasted session, but it did set up this week perfectly. It also ensured that we gamed last night, as otherwise we would have one nearly wasted session followed by two weekends off (as I'm on vacation and definitely can't play next weekend. The wife thinks I moved the departure day to the Poconos back one day to accommodate this morning 9 am yoga class, and that works for me ;)
Anyhow, on to the highlights:
The party comes across a room that is used as a smithy. The door on the north wall has stuff piled in front of it. They wisely assume it is holding something in, and the party prepares for combat as the refuse is cleared away. The Lizardman Gladiator steps into the doorway as the door is pulled back, revealing an anxious and hungry carrion crawler. Eight attacks, two hits, one failed save and the lizzie is paralyzed and out of the fight (and on the floor). Magic-user promptly casts sleep, knocking out the baddie that then falls on top of the prone lizzie. Too bad the lizzie's player was still returning from GoogleCon or whatnot ;)
Later there is a fight with six orcs in the mine's main tunnel. The human fighter gets on a tear with his cleave attacks and before you know it, there's just 2 orcs left standing, one of which is seriously injured. The orcs morale fails and they throw themselves on the ground for mercy. Vesper, the elf tells the orcs "we only need one of you..." at which point the party's goblin henchman Gooban puts a heavy crossbow bolt into the injured orc, killing him at the elf finishes his sentence "so whoever talks most lives." Moot point.
The living orc squeals like a pig, and is promptly hog tied and gagged as the party explored it's options. Seeing that there is basically a gauntlet to run if they want to proceed, the human fighter, James, decided they should push the mining cart that their captured orc is currently residing in down the hall and into the group of orcs at the far end. Curio, the Magic-user, decides to douse the orc in highly flammable alcohol before the cart is put into motion. Rolling Orc Flambeau - fire and torture in one simple act. Priceless.
Needless to say, a well placed sleep spell and the flaming cart of doom enable the party to survive the encounter with minimal damage. They are rolling well, and my dice are roll like poop on a stick. That's with me changing about half the orcs in the adventure into orgillions. Ah well.
Flash forward to the final battle. Two ogrillions, eight orcs and an ogre with a magical two-handed sword. Magic-user casts his final sleep spell. 8+8 HD of creatures slept. All fall but the ogre, who is only saved from sleep because he has 4+1 HD and not a mere 4HD. He lands one hit during the final battle - and rolls a 1 on a d10 (plus adjustments). Like I said, I was rolling like shit last night.
Next game is in two weeks. I leave for the Poconos in two hours. Life is good :)
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