Rolled 15, 20, 13 = 48 (3d20)
>>5992639>19You take no pleasure in the screams which result from your spellcasting, nor the smell of burnt hair and fabric, of scorched flesh and ozone. You close your eyes in fact, and look away. Even as you knew the tall spears with their metal tips would serve as perfect lightning rods to target the two lieutenants before they could retrieve this mysterious ‘rod’ and ‘chest’, you regretted what would become of them. They still twitch, but you strongly suspect that this is a relic of an overelectrified nervous system, and not in fact a sign of life.
“Ibihg!” Elak-Rak shouts, jumping back and releasing his own club, narrowly avoid a shock himself.
He looks around frantically, backing up another step.
“Well, one of you little mossy-green fuckers, get me the gods-damned rod and chest! Hurry!”
[Morale check, DC 17 due to you nuking two hobs]
