Boss Battle! You must match blows with the lieutenant if you are to survive. Roll a 1d20 for every attack and it will be compared to the lieutenant's roll. Whomever wins 5 contests first shall emerge victorious.
Gladiola stands at the ready, facing the lieutenant full on, although she allows her peripheral vision to track the troll until he is out of sight. "I'm sure my friend will be happy to dance with your date," she smiles, tossing her hammer from left hand to right, "while you and I come to an... understanding." The pair pace the floor in a large semi-circle, matching step for step and scanning for any weakness to be exploited. Finally Gladiola's lack of patience pushes her to take the first strike! She leaps forward, using a power with which she is becoming comfortable in hopes to keep missteps to a minimum, and slams down on her opponent with great might, yelling "DEATH STORM!" 1D20=10 The lieutenant moves his shield to counter the vicious attack 1d20=6, but he can't withstand the flurry of blows. Several connect with his shoulder and ribs, knocking the wind from him. (Gladiola=1 lieutenant=0)
Steve! grimaces as the troll lumbers forth, blocking his access to lend Gladiola a hand. He dodges left, then right, but both moves are immediately blocked by the beastie, who seems to gather speed when in battle that belies his size. "Fine." Steve! finally resigns himself to the battle at hand, "if you must interfere I'll make you regret the choice one thousand fold!" Steve! pulls his hands, shaped like claws down before him and allows the electricity to build in bright blue arcs between them. As his eyes also begin to spark with blue energy Steve! turns his hands out to face the troll, lightening striking him as if by Zeus himself! 1D20=14 The bolts of energy pierce through the trolls skin, burning and shocking him. He convulses with pain and agony as sparks fly from his every orifice. He falls to his knees as the onslaught ceases. Then Steve! watches as the wounds on the great beast begin to close. The flesh oozing together and reforming. It stands and recommences its assault.
The lieutenant leaps back and recollects himself. Gripping his sword tightly he dashes towards Gladiola, pivots on one foot, and brings his sword around to attack her flank 1d20=6 1D20=17 At the last possible second Gladiola sees the blow flying at her side and manages to leap back, the sword slicing the air a hair's breadth from her armor. As her feet land she bounces off of the wall behind her, rushing back at the Crimson Guard soldier with her hammer swinging back and forth before her. "I know not what authority you use to attack us, red menace, but my Hammer of Justice will teach you the meanings of right and wrong!" So let’s apply this attack to the previous contest and the following dice roll to the next one As Gladiola brings her hammer back, a ghostly figure surrounds it. Robed and pointing a finger directly at the evil soul, it drops the hammer like an ethereal gavel passing judgment over his wrongdoings. The blow lands squarely in his chest and knocks him the floor. The sounds of his armor giving way are heard and great cracks in the chest plate can be seen. (Gladiola=2 lieutenant=0)
"OK, I didn't expect that..." Steve! steps back a pace or two as the mortally wounded monster advances, injury-free. "I see that you come with a trick or two of your own, eh beastie?" he sidles left, hoping to slow the battle with chatter. The troll clearly is not much for conversation, and moves forward quickly. Steve! jumps back, drawing on a new energy that has begun to grow within him recently. Back-peddling further, he draws forth the energy and as he pulls with his mind green pods begin to poke up through the cracks between the floor stones. Small at first, the vines become thicker as they pour forth through the ground and they reach around in the air, wrapping their tendrils around every bit of the troll that they can reach. Their individual strength may be weak, but as more and more vines rush forth, some now cracking the cobblestones and bursting from their heart, they form a mass of bonds dragging the troll to a standstill. 1D20=14
The troll curses and hisses as it struggles against the ever increasing vines. Steve! stands and crosses his arms quite pleased with himself. "Check that out." As he looks closer, he notices that the vines encroachment seems to be progressing rather quickly. His inexperience with his new power has shown itself as the swarming tendrils begin to slither towards him.
Steve! backs up a little, worrying that there is only a little space between he and the vines heading his way. He places one hand on the wall at his back, the other palm-out facing his run-away garden, and he reaches for the energy he had used to summon the vines. "Back," he commands, following with "Stop. Cease. Halt! Quit? Cut it out! Hang on, haf-a-mo, WHAT DO I HAVE TO SAY TO GET YOU TO STAY!"
Suddenly the vines stop. Their growth hindered, though, also steals them of their energy and the binds begin to fall limp around the troll. Preparing for what comes next, Steve! pulls out his bow once again and aims it at the monster. "You have to have some sort of weakness..." he mutters as he lets loose with a poison arrow. 1D20=15 The arrow strikes the troll dead center in the chest. It's pale green skin can be seen to turn blue on the surrounding tissue. Streaks of the wicked concoction dart out from the wound as the monster begins to show signs of weakness. It clumsily slashes away at Steve! with its large claws, as it seems to be gasping for air.
Confidence rushes through Gladiola with each successful strike. So much confidence that she lets herself get cocky. She grabs up her hammer and brings it down again dead center on the soldier's armor, seeking to break it clean through, sure that she can complete what the hammer of justice has begun. 1D20=6 (uh oh) 1d20=17 The lieutenant brings his shield around and catches the forceful attack. Seeing his opponent overextended, he sweeps his leg around and catches Gladiola in the back of the knee. Unprepared for the blow, she crumbles. The lieutenant brings his sword around as he leaps to his feet, and connects with the defenseless warrior. (Gladiola=2 lieutenant=1)
She feels her skin break apart under the swords attack and curses herself silently for the hubris that has brought her to her back. Above her the lieutenant prepares for another attack, holding an obvious advantage over her. As her blood attempts to escape through the gash in her side, she pulls up her feet and brings both feet crashing into his knees! Simultaneously she swings her hammer up, holding handle in one hand and head in the other, planning to block the path of his next sword strike. 1D20=13 1d20=6 The mighty lieutenant's legs crumble beneath him as his knees give way to the dastardly assault. He attempts to bring his sword with him as his body crashes down, but it is stopped by the well placed handle of the warrior cleric's hammer. (Gladiola=3 lieutenant=1)
Meanwhile, blue streaks are zipping over the surface of the troll's green skin, definitely taking its toll. However the impact of the poison, while successful, is also slow. The troll gasps, but doesn't stop advancing in Steve!'s direction. As he prepares another volley from his mystical bow he mutters under his breath and sneaks a quick glare at the member of the Crimson Guard. "I will say this: you do have some particularly troublesome pets..." a troll arm whizzes within inches of Steve!'s head, bringing him back to his situation, and he slides to the side and lets a hail of arrows loose at the arm's owner. "Down, boy!" he shouts after them. 1D20=8. The mass of arrows pierce the troll over and over leaving him looking like a giant ravenous evil pincushion. The creatures advance however, does not cease. Wheezing from the surges of poison in his veins, his anger only seems to grow and urge him on.
Battered and in a disadvantageous position, the lieutenant resorts to what all the men in his position have been taught to do. Fight dirty. Sliding his off hand down his leg, it finds a small sheath containing a jagged dagger. He quickly pulls it and jabs toward Gladiola's side 1d20=15 1D20=2 The dagger sinks deep and jaggedy into her waist, a sharp cry her response! She rolls away from the soldier's second poke slapping her hand over the gash, holding in anything she might want to keep for later (spleen, liver, what-have-you) and cursing the dirty shot. As she clambers unsteadily to her feet, leaning heavily on the nearest wall, she relishes in the vision of her opponent holding his knees in pain. "Such a gentleman." she curses at him. "Your mama must be so proud."
"What makes my mother proud," he curses back, also climbing to his feet, "is when I am triumphant."
"Yeah? Well, triumph THIS!" she responds back, pushing off from the wall and spinning her hammer over her head, a windmill of momentum, finally letting it fly directly at the lieutenant's big, fat head! 1D20=5 The lieutenant laughs at the off balance and unremarkable assault. Preparing to dodge the heavy hammer and return the attack with his trusty sword, he chooses instead to grab it from the air. He steps forward 1d20=1, but completely forgets the extreme damage to his knees. The momentary lapse of concentration from the strike of pain shooting like a lightning bolt up his leg, causes him to take the hammer squarely in the forehead. The sound of his great nose cracking and spewing blood turns Gladiola's stomach. The great warrior can't tell which hurts worse. The pulp and fluids that used to be his face, or knowing that his own overconfidence and stupidity caused it. (Gladiola=4 lieutenant=2)
The lieutenant roars in anger. Near death, he summons his remaining strength and charges at Gladiola. His sword draws back over his head as he lays into the warrior cleric, blood streams trailing behind him as he runs. 1d20=18 1D20=5 Her choice to fling her hammer, which seemed like such a good one when it made glorious contact with his face, turns out to leave her weaponless as in the face of his assault. Seeing no other course of action, Gladiola roars as well and rushes at the lieutenant, aiming her shoulder at his mid-section. Sadly, his sword's reach much exceeding her shoulder's, she feels the crushing blow of the blade come down on her back long before she reaches him. The armor absorbs some of the damage, but she feels the sharp touch of steel cut through the center of her back's armor and her skin, the hard impact driving her flat to the floor.
Steve! decides that survival is the better part of valor and turns to run, following the walls of the almost round room to get proper DISTANCE between he and the troll. "At least he's slow." he mutters as he steps behind one of the massive banquet tables, making sure to position the troll on the OTHER side. In far less time then he would have expected his pursuer reaches the table, slashing across the surface in an attempt to grab Steve!'s head and crush it like a fortune cookie. With the tiny bit of breathing room provided by the barrier he considers all the options available to him. "Maybe what I need is a little help." he ponders, pulling his amulet again from his chest and blowing through the hole at one end. The amulet sings like a wooden flute, a high note in a minor, haunting key. In a distant bog some boglings pack bags and head out... 1D20=13
From seemingly every crevice and opening, pour out small creatures. They look like a mixture of gremlin and goblin, with perhaps a dash of lizard. They quickly surround the troll and begin to tear at him. Every piece they rip off seems to slowly re-grow. The troll trashes about, trying to smack away the horde of ravenous monsters. Screaming in pain he dances around the room, seemingly no longer interested in trying to attack Steve!...at least for the moment. But a moment is enough, and as the boglings keep the troll distracted from Steve! he combines two powers in his bowels (ewww!) and sends a hail of poisoned arrows into the troll. With any luck the rush of poison to his system will finally bring the behemoth to a stop. ummm...dice roll...anyone...dice roll? 1D20=1 (now I know why I subconsciously didn't want to roll.) The two magics swirl and mix and let loose a rainstorm of poison death. Cascading down around the troll, they strike each and every one of the boglings. They begin to wretch and wail as one by one they fall. Some have foam streaming from their mouths, some great torrents of unknown fluids from their eyes and ears. Others seem to pop open as they scream "Why...why have you done this master?" The troll grabs a few of the less gooey corpses and drops them in his gaping mouth. The added nourishment seems to speed the healing of his many wounds. His attention returns to Steve!.
The success of his last assault invigorates the lieutenant. He licks the blood from the edge of his blade while a devilish smile can barely be made out across he smashed face. "How sweet. I want some more!" He spins around trying to catch the adventurer with another strike. 1d20=3 1D20=14 If he had not been so brash in his follow-through he might have dealt a fatal blow. However Gladiola, though blind with pain from her jarred and scarred back, manages to reach out with her arms and find... ankles. Weak, spindly little girl ankles, just sitting there, daring her to abuse them. And so abuse them she does. She wraps her strong hands one around each ankle and rolls to the left, hearing the gratifying 'snap!' of puny bones in her hands. The soldier's sword crashes down into the stone floor, sending stone chips flying, and he screams in agony as his legs refuse to support his weight a moment more! The evil dagger he so treacherously used before falls from his other hand, its handle getting caught between the gap of the stones in the floor. As his legs give way, his tremendous heavy head plummets directly on the jagged blade and it drives straight into his skull. He body quivers a few times before lying still. (Victory Gladiola!)
Steve! stands facing a pile of massacred helpful bogglings and a rejuvenated, even cheery troll. Feeling like he's running out of energy and ideas, he pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, wracking his poor, sad brain.
"Need a hand?"
There, as if the answer to his prayers, stands Gladiola! She's holding her back with one hand, her side with another (with blood leaking through her fingers), and her hammer hanging from its strap around her wrist. But she's there, and she could make the difference in this never-ending battle against this DAMNED troll! She sees the relief in his eyes and she stands up straight, focusing her mind like a scalpel and aiming it at the mind of the troll to take control. 1D20=2
One would think, as did Gladiola, that a troll would be an easy beast to manage, mind-control-wise. Unfortunately controlling the large, slow, thick mind of a troll is akin to pushing a huge boulder up a steep incline. With your head. As she reaches out to seize control of the beast with her thoughts and pushes against the brick wall of his psyche it is the last straw for her already over-taxed system. Steve! smiles as he sees her take action, but that smile evaporates as her eyes roll up into the back of her skull and down she goes like a dropped sack of potatoes.
"Balls." he mutters, re-grouping once again. Luck throws him a bone by stymieing the troll briefly as it responds to the feeling of a stranger's hand wrapping around its brain for but a second, and in that second Steve! leaps back into action, pulling his final Hail Mary pass from his hip pocket in the form of his 'trick shot' talisman. He hangs it from the tip of his bow, aims at the heart of the monster as it resumes its unstoppable pursuit, and fires. 1D20=14 Despite the straight shot and the close proximity the arrow still manages to be caught by a gust of wind and sent wildly off course, eventually rebounding off of the shield of the now-dead lieutenant. It flies at the far corner, ricocheting off each wall and back into the air, having lost no momentum. Suddenly a soldier rushes into the room to find out what has become of his lieutenant. He sees the room destroyed, the bones of his fellow soldiers, the body of the Crimson Guard and he draws his immense battle axe from his belt, raising it high and aiming at Steve!'s head! Sadly for him he has stopped directly in the path of the rushing arrow, and as it slams into him with a sick "thud" his axe flies from his hand with all the rage but none of the aim of his intention, and instead of hitting Steve! the axe slides cleanly between the troll's head and shoulders. A large, thick troll head lands in Steve!'s hands, staring at him stupidly, as the rest of the body gradually flops over on to the floor finally, FINALLY dead.
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