First, I was re-reading some of what I typed and I forgot some important house keeping stuff involving the party. The druid player was mia for a lot of this. I was controlling her character at first but frankly forgot. We retconned it so she left sometime in the first week or so of working in the castle. I threw them a bone for this that will come into play later, since my negligence as a DM cost them a huge resource.
The fighter joined the party after the incident with the paladin but before the start of the castle situation. This started about three weeks ago for me and I kinda bitterly ignore some of the weirdness that happens when irl stuff messes with the progression. oof. The players kinda phoned in the roleplay surrounding that cuz what are they gonna do, just reject a PC?
Anyway:
The party had no way of really judging the size of the hoard they were attempting to deal with. After a week or so of excavating several dozen corpses they wanted to try and push for a better spot. Maybe even attempt to divide and conquer. To their horror, the portcullis was open when they got to the door. This posed a huge issue as it compromised all the floor space they had claimed thus far.
The portcullis wasn't just open, though. It was bent and warped to be unusable, permanently stuck open. The Mage, who has apparently read the art of war, said they needed to push into the hoard's territory until they can secure that it's shut off from their area. As he as barking orders the sorceress heard bare feet on stone.
A Drow woman approached them. Her hair was a matted mess, and it was impossible to tell if her hair was naturally that shade of brown or if she was just filthy. She wore no clothing, and the once beautiful woman's figure was covered from head to toe in weeping blisters. A trail of pus followed behind her. Every breath was a struggle and she wore a sad, stoic smile.
The party was torn between empathetic and defensive.
Drow: "What have you done?"
Cleric: "What are you talking about? Mercy fuck us all, come here and let me help you."
"Mother is so upset with you. I've never seen her shun anyone like this. What.. What have you done, strangers? Why have I been sent to kill you?"
From behind, the party hears a mind numbing whistle. They turn to see the same deer the fighter saw before, staring at them from the far side of a hallway. It walks on it's hind legs, and it's front legs are so mangled they just dangle. A whistle is lodged in it's throat and the stress of walking semi-upright has curved it's spine into a sickening upward angle that would wilt a ghost pepper.
The stone walls shake off decades of dust as the activity starts. The party only had a minute before the brunt of the hoard would be there. Instantly, though, affronts began to pour in from all the compromised rooms.
The wizard started barking orders again. They had prepared for the portcullis getting compromised. A sturdy door too thick for rotten nails to scratch away was a somewhat short run behind them. There was a problem, though. A hill giant and a troll stood in their way, getting behind them with the help of the drow's magic. They sat at the door maybe 300 feet away. From a door between the party and the troublesome duo front crawled a second and third hillgiant, but these were corpses.
On her surprise round, the drow woman reached behind her back and pulled two strange wands out. She waved the first one in the air a bit, and let out a soft wimpier that reminded the fighter of his wedding night. The party watched as the hostiles' weapons, claws, and teeth began to drip in noxious poison.
And so began the first full retreat I've ever seen my party make. The fighter was engaged almost immediately by a rotten mutt and a bisected elf. Thanks to high rolls, the dog was put down and the elf's right eblow was mushed into a fine paste, rendering it much less dangerous.
The mage juked his heart out but got nailed in the ribs by a bolt. Sneak attack, poison, and bolt damage all add up and he's making massive damage con saves and is frankly lucky he didn't go down. A very healthy and very smug kenku peers out and mimicks the woman's voice with mismatched tone. "You.. done. I.. Kill you."
The sorceress covers their retreat with steel storm before running forward. The cleric brings a hammer down on a corpse before catching up.
Ranged weapons come out and the party is preforming like a well oiled machine. Bullets and arrows attempt to blind the hill giant corpses that are screaming in agony and trying to reach the party with pure desperation and will power. The cleric fucking kobes a cask of sacred oil with a nat goddamn 20 and covers it's face with Jesus Napalm cremation oil. By now the hoard has began to spill out from the once secure portcullis, each one's claws dripping with poison and hate.
The mage uses his last pepper to breath dragon fire and while it doesn't kill either of the giant corpses, it does distract them.
The drow finally catches up after struggling to get past the steel storm. She aims the second wand at the party and web shoots from it, filling the hallway infront of them. The fighter and sorceress turn on a dime and try to hit her from range. The cleric takes this chance to heal the wizard.
The wizard burns through the web easily enough, which was frankly dumb luck. The party is now close enough to engage the live hill giant and troll. The drow and poison buffed hord are lapping at their back. The wizard misty steps and the fighter uses a help action to stop the hill giant from grappling the other two.
the troll swings at the cleric as he runs by. and hits. Hard. The hill giant tries to grab the smol sorceress but misses, and turns his agro on the fighter. Everyone who made it past the two position themselves at the door.
The fighter spends all his surpiriority dice trying to knock the hill giant prone, and the rest of the party lay into them. The cleric is behind the hill giant in melee and the sorceress is using her bow. The wizard still has his spicy breath and is using the hell out of it.
The kill the fucking thing before they can knock it down. The fighter has taken several rounds of debilitating agro, though, and thanks to the drow casting web over and over he's barely able to move.
The cleric returns the favor with the help action so the fighter can get by. He then takes an attack of opportunity to get away. The mage and sorcerer instantly shut the door and the mage casts arcane lock.
The party retreated to their small safe haven, making sure to close and lock doors on the way. Their labor was safe, thankfully, and none of them died.
They set of a watch rotation and began to lick their wounds.
Submitted June 27, 2019 at 08:09AM by DnDthrowthataway https://ift.tt/2KG01sR
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