"Excuse me," he tries softly, in elvish. "My companions and I aren't from around here, as you can likely tell. You see, we are...well, looking for an audience with Correlon---and not the performance kind. How might we do that?"
The Triad
Be sure to read and follow the guidelines for our forums.
"Excuse me," he tries softly, in elvish. "My companions and I aren't from around here, as you can likely tell. You see, we are...well, looking for an audience with Correlon---and not the performance kind. How might we do that?"
The eladrin with the flute opens his eyes and watches in grim solemnity as the maple leaf dances away on a sudden stronger breeze. He stands, graceful and princely as a hart. Then, rather than acknowledge the newcomer and his allies, the eladrin sighs and gives a bow. Once more polite applause comes from the audience, soft as the rustling of leaves.
With the concert over, the eladrin meander in small groups off to other areas of the gardens, leaving the companions alone with the one with the flute.
The eldadrin and the man himself have left the group to make dangerous assumptions about him. But Torm can help. She opens her senses to the divine and examines the man addressing them.
"Ah, my deepest apologies," Zenithral says with a deep bow. "We are...unaccustomed to ways here, but we would like to learn. We seek an audience with, well, the First of the Seldarine."
The eladrin waves his hand dismissively and turns away. Another eladrin dressed in fine armor seems to materialize out of the darkness and approaches. The eladrin with the flute raises an eyebrow. "Escort these... folk... back to the portal whence they came, and reprimand the guards there. They have shirked in their duty to keep the rabble out."
The wind. Before Alalla's eyes, the wind's light seems to form itself into a vaguely humanoid shape. It raises a hand and waves at her, and then gives an exaggerated bow, at the end of which she can make out just a hint of facial features.
It winks at her.
Then her senses return to normal.
"We already have the First's audience," Alalla says to all listening. She hadn't wanted to speak, but it's too late now. "And we won't leave. Not until we've finished what the Triad has sent us to do.
We also have news of the portal beyond the field of flowers. Slaadi overcame your guard there, and were waiting for more meals to pass their way. We've taken care of them for you."
Alalla produces the tokens taken from the eladrin bodies: a pendant, a set of earrings, and an engraved belt buckle. She also takes out the Slaad head, and presents it--still covered--to the eladrin with the flute.
The eladrin with the flute gapes. "Did you say Sla-"
It feels good to cut into something awful and evil again, without worrying about whether or not she could have, or should have, tried harder to save them.
Death Slaad takes 66 slashing damage and 48 fire (or 24 after resistance). It must make a wisdom saving throw or be afraid of Al.
HP: 144/174
AC: 19
Rolls
Attack 1 - (1d20+10)
(1) + 10 = 11
Attack 2 - (1d20+10)
(11) + 10 = 21
Attack 3 - (1d20+10)
(13) + 10 = 23
Damage (2 attacks) - (2d10+10, 4d6)
2d10+10 : (107) + 10 = 27
4d6 : (4215) = 12
Attack 1 inspiration reroll! - (1d20+10)
(17) + 10 = 27
Damage - (1d10+5, 2d6)
1d10+5 : (1) + 5 = 6
2d6 : (55) = 10
Damage reroll - (1d10+32, 2d6+19)
1d10+32 : (3) + 32 = 35
2d6+19 : (45) + 19 = 28
ACTION SURGE ATTACKS - (1d20+10, 1d20+10, 1d20+10)
1d20+10 : (4) + 10 = 14
1d20+10 : (19) + 10 = 29
1d20+10 : (12) + 10 = 22
Damage - (2d10+10, 4d6)
2d10+10 : (39) + 10 = 22
4d6 : (4565) = 20
Superiority Die - (1d10)
(2) = 2
Superiority die reroll - (1d10)
(9) = 9
Not very, apparently.
"It seems you have an invasion on your hands, Master Flutist."
As Alalla unleashes her furious attacks, Zenithral reacts with swift, precise, movements. Though only half of his shots hit and the rest rocketing past harmlessly, the ones that hit burst with magical energy. One of his arrows shrouds in shadow, though peters out almost uselessly, likely at odds with the type of magic of the realm.
(Death Slaad takes 60 piercing damage, plus 2 psychic. He must make a DC 17 WIS save or be blinded beyond 5 feet next round.)
109/118 HP
AC 17
Rolls
Longbow 1, 2, 3 (Sharp) - (1d20+9, 1d20+9, 1d20+9)
1d20+9 : (5) + 9 = 14
1d20+9 : (15) + 9 = 24
1d20+9 : (2) + 9 = 11
Action SUUURGE - (1d20+9, 1d20+9, 1d20+9)
1d20+9 : (7) + 9 = 16
1d20+9 : (18) + 9 = 27
1d20+9 : (18) + 9 = 27
Damage (3 hits) - (3d8+48)
(183) + 48 = 60
Shadow Arrow Psychic Damage - (2d6)
(11) = 2
Rolls
Erevain vs Slaad (2 attacks) - (2d20+11)
(1215) + 11 = 38
Dmg to Slaad (slashing, thunder) - (2d8+14, 3d8)
2d8+14 : (62) + 14 = 22
3d8 : (343) = 10
Aribeth vs Slaad (3 attacks) - (3d20+9)
(14215) + 9 = 40
Dmg to slaad (piercing, radiant) - (2d6+5, 2d8)
2d6+5 : (64) + 5 = 15
2d8 : (34) = 7
Slaad vs Al (disadv) - (2d20+9)
(85) + 9 = 22
Slaad vs Al (2 attacks) - (2d20+9)
(913) + 9 = 31
Dmg to Al (slashing, necrotic) - (2d6+5, 2d6)
2d6+5 : (23) + 5 = 10
2d6 : (63) = 9
The experience is surreal and alien, and yet somehow familiar, for every elf and half-elf carries this fey ancestry within them. Shards of the divine.
"I thank you all for handling the threat that even my own people did not see coming." Again that twinkle of mischief, and just the hint of a sly grin. "How can I, Corellon Larethian, repay such heroism?"
Blood and pain, how she hates him. She must. Gruumsh demands it. An errant thought reminds her that her sword is still flaming in her hand, and Corellon is well within reach. She's cursed his name many times and now he's here in front of her.
Alalla lowers her eyes as she quenches the fire and sheaths her weapon. She bows low, putting her anger and hatred in its place, and prays one of the elf-blood will speak first.