[Completed] - Lars/Finger of Doom - 19 March, 1 VC

[Zorroroaster]

Saving Throw vs. Spell (12): [1d20] = 7

In addition to that, he's also got a +2 WIS bonus...

"Sorry, lass. I prefer my womenfolk a little shorter. And hairier."

[Keehnelf]

The young woman pouts and puts her hands on her hips, then retreats to the base of the tree, fishing something from it and returning with her arms surrounding an old and weathered leather quiver. A single feathered shaft extends from the container, with alternating red and black coloration. She pulls it solemnly forth from the quiver, pointed toward the skies and pronounces in a solemn tone:

"For you have driven off wolves that would have despoiled my sacred home, I gift to you this arrow, crafted by elven hunters long ages ago to slay the animals that walk the earth. Should this arrow strike true, it is nigh-guaranteed to kill any beast of natural seeming that walks on four legs or crawls upon the ground. May it serve you as it was unable to serve its last master."

She returns the arrow to the quiver and presents it to Orrin with a solemn air.

[Zhym]

I wonder if that would work against a shapeshifting bunny-wolf.

[Keehnelf]

Just don't give it to Varas!

[Zhym]

Why not Varas? Valorei seems to be the problem elf!

[AleBelly]

I think it's because Varas couldn't hit the broad side of a barn from ten feet!

[Zhym]

Oh, that.

[Zorroroaster]

Orrin bows politely and accepts the gift.

"Thank you, that's much better. You know, this big brute you nearly stole from us has a love for all things shiny. Perhaps you might have a little something for him to remember you by when he wakes? It would certainly show him there were no ...hard...feelings..."

He trails off his sentence with a sly glance at Lars.

guess I better get myself a bow.

[Keehnelf]

She sighs and retrieves a knife from among the items scattered around the base of the tree, then cuts a short lock of her wild and untamed hair loose, thing it into a quick knot so it will stay together, the. She tucks it in his belt pouch.

"Please, leave me in peace as requested. I will mourn the loss of my beautiful champion but hope that someday he will return so we can be together..." Her voice trails off as she heads back to the tree.

[KingOfCowards]

Lars nods, obviously impressed by the gift - but follows Orrin's lead.
"And that's enough of your witchery. I'll pick out a few choice pieces and when Lug wakes up, we shall take our leave. Go back to your tree and we will leave you alone."

Lars won't approach the treasure just yet, with the lady still around. He still holds the torch like a shield in front of him.

[Zorroroaster]

Remind me never to barter with you, King...you drive a hard bargain! Haha! If you can snag that shiny mail shirt, maybe I'll trade you for the arrow...

[Keehnelf]

She has gone from shy and coy to downright imperious looking as Lars continues to press her. "If you do not watch your manners, sir, you will find yourself spending a long cold night in an ogre's belly before too long."

[KingOfCowards]

"Perhaps. Some day. But not this cold night I think. Had you an ogre, you would have no need to steal ours. I tell you again, back to your tree. You have plenty of treasure here to share."

[Keehnelf]

The wind whips up wildly around the woman and her hair lashes at her pale skin with force and vigor. The air itself seems to go black around Lars as he sits in the tree and the ground tilts crazily beneath him. The forest seems full of the keening of wailing women or cawing crows.

Forceful enchantment: save vs spell at a +4 bonus

[KingOfCowards]

The wind whips up wildly around the woman and her hair lashes at her pale skin with force and vigor. The air itself seems to go black around Lars as he sits in the tree and the ground tilts crazily beneath him. The forest seems full of the keening of wailing women or cawing crows.

Forceful enchantment: save vs spell at a +4 bonus

Is it too late to point out that Lars climbed out of the tree? Just in case I fall.
Save vs. Spells (14): [1d20+4] = 13+4 = 17
Lars scowls as he beats back the witch's enchantments. He screams at her through the noise, "I warned you about your witchery!"
He hurls his flask of oil at the tree/witch whatever is around.
Flask of oil: [1d20+1] = 6+1 = 7
Anti-climatically it probably hits Lug or the wolf. I swear I would make a better adventurer than my character is.

[Zhym]

I guess now we'll know whether Lars can actually hit the broad side of a tree from point-blank range.

[KingOfCowards]

I guess now we'll know whether Lars can actually hit the broad side of a tree from point-blank range.

Hey, he hit once. It just happen to be Orrin that he hit. This dice roller is cursed.

[Zhym]

Maybe if Lars tries aiming for Orrin, he might hit the tree?

[KingOfCowards]

Orrin go stand next to the tree and I will try to hit you

[Keehnelf]

The wind whips up wildly around the woman and her hair lashes at her pale skin with force and vigor. The air itself seems to go black around Lars as he sits in the tree and the ground tilts crazily beneath him. The forest seems full of the keening of wailing women or cawing crows.

Forceful enchantment: save vs spell at a +4 bonus

Is it too late to point out that Lars climbed out of the tree? Just in case I fall.
Save vs. Spells (14): [1d20+4] = 13+4 = 17
Lars scowls as he beats back the witch's enchantments. He screams at her through the noise, "I warned you about your witchery!"
He hurls his flask of oil at the tree/witch whatever is around.
Flask of oil: [1d20+1] = 6+1 = 7
Anti-climatically it probably hits Lug or the wolf. I swear I would make a better adventurer than my character is.

Good call, completely forgot about that--and never too late to point out something I've missed (unless there have already been consequences and we've moved on).

Lars tosses the flask of oil and it strikes the back of Lug's helmeted head, dousing his head and shoulders in oil as he lays near the base of the tree where Orrin knocked him out. The woman laughs merrily. "Foolish little man. This tree has stood for hundreds of years--do you think your little flame can even scar its bark, let alone pose it a mortal danger? Until now I have merely tried to drive you off--take heed and begone with your unconscious friends before I wreak violence upon you."