Monday, January 27, 2014

The Forgotten Citadel, Part 6 or Two Too Many Demons

We made our way to the Portal Room as we had so many times before with our new players in toe when a siren started blaring. 

"We're under attack!" Neverwas shouted as he stood at the end of the table flinging papers everywhere. "Portals are opening up all over the Citadel and demons are pouring out of them!"

The Fuck they are! I yelled back as I threw a d20 at Poot. Let's go fuck there shit up!

The Master Planner was already running down the hall firing arrows into anything that moved and double tapping anyone laying down on the ground; and I was counting his shots, marking down his ammo in the hopes that he'd waste his last arrow before we got to the courtyard and started fighting demons.

Sadly that would not be the case. 

We reached the court yard and Poot shouted across the table, "Ugg, fastball special!"

"Uh," Kid Icarus growled out as he rolled a d20, "okay."

He picked up the little gnome wizard and chucked him like a football at the largest group of demons who erupted into flames as Poot dropped a Fireball in the middle of them. Baby Momma took flight and started raining hell down from up on high; while the Master Planner dropped demon after demon with four natural twenties in a row. Kid Icarus, Step-up, Little Caesar, and Little Boy were going toe to toe with some big bastard who blew infected spikes into them every chance he got. And Thief 2 was sitting on the steps watching everything, smoking a bowl, while Hamhock (his animal compainon) charged into the fray. 

As for me I had dropped two demons and had stepped up to the biggest mother on the board. Four flurry of blows later, he's laughing at me, and I'm trying to remember why I chose to play a monk in the first place as he's got me hoisted up in the air. Kid Icarus sees my predicament, rolls a d20, and decides to charge at the demon who has me. 

You know how they have those improvised weapon rules in Dungeons and Dragons that are designed to be used for tables, chairs, and the like? Well, it turns out that they can also apply to a 280 pd., Half-orc, Monk who is being used as a club. 

Three rounds later and Kid Icarus and I are making hunch punch while our characters are unconscious on the table but before we can get back with the bowl Poot, Baby Momma, and Little Boy join us. So I'm ladling out punch with a soup spoon and trying to remember if I've got any cigarettes left when Step-up lights up a cigarette next to me and starts telling me the craziest story about little brother fucking with Kid Icarus. I'm laughing my ass off when suddenly it strikes me that the only people left up are Thief 2, Hamhock, Little Caesar, and the Master Planner. 

We're about to be boned kids. I confidently announced when the Master Planner rolled a 1 and dropped to fireball.

"Don't be so defeatist," Little Caesar chidded me, "you'll be confused for the French."

Two rounds later and his burnt corpse was being ground into meal by a group of demons that liked Billy Joel way too much. So we're down to two party members on our side and the demons have seven up and have captured all of the npcs. 

Thief 2 announces that he's going to go buy some more of his herb but Hamhock's to continue the fight and we're down to a single man - erm, pig. Seven to one should be uneven odds and it was as Hamhock dropped demon after demon while Neverwas rolled four natural 1s, two sixes, and a seven. 

So all of us are around this table watching Thief 2 roll his d20 like he's got money riding on it as he keeps taking demons down like their school children when Neverwas rolls a natural 20. The whole table takes a gasp as Hamhock is knocked down to his last hit point and we all realize that the campaign hinges on a single roll. Thief 2 picks up his die, turns his head away, and rolls.

"What'd I get?"

More later. 

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