Rolled 7, 7, 4, 10, 12, 1, 13, 20, 20, 20, 9, 8 = 131 (12d20)
>>5798467The battle was going to be a stalemate if you did nothing new—worse than a stalemate, for you knew that you were losing a war of attrition. Should you have summoned more elementals, maybe? Would the goblins let you get a chance, if you tried? You didn’t have Muffins’ protection anymore—or, at least, it was rather drastically reduced in its effectiveness by the three-headed natural chimera’s stumbling about as if drunk. Gods, if only you’d studied <Purify>!
But there WERE spells you knew—fields you were exceptionally adept in, as was Pearce. Life Magic was your forte, and here it would be your salvation!
You directed the fire elemental to shield your defence, all but burning itself out to provide a wall of flame behind you. You were retreating, though, but regrouping. You cast a few haphazard blasts of unfocused magical force before you to keep the remainder of the green-skinned wasteland-dwellers at bay, and you waved for Muffins to follow you. Whining and groaning in tones you had never heard the animal make before, he staggered after you as you pushed towards Rudolfo and Pearce. They saw your playa s well and, if they didn’t yet know exactly what you were planning, they were at least able to fall back to your position, so that you were all clustered together…
“…And we’re surrounded,” Pearce noted “Great!”
“Don’t panic,” you hissed.
“What, like YOU’RE calm?!” he demanded, your taller friend’s usual cool demeanour more than a little impeded by the threat of impending death or worse. “And if you are, your’e more of an idiot than I—”
“Keep your heads!” Ruldofo bellowed, lunging and thrusting with his sword to threaten another approaching goblin. “Though I DO hope you have something up your sleeve, my boy?”
“I do,” you said, “and so does Logan.”
Pearce looked at you strangely. You used his first name about as rarely as he used your nickname. You smiled at him grimly, and told him: “Together. Our specialties. Just like class?”
He regarded you warily, gulped, and nodded.
“Together.”
“Rudulfo is the jackalope.”
“I’m the what now?” your father asked, and then squawked in surprised as you and your friend both placed hands upon his back.
“<Cure Wounds!>”
“<Bull’s Strength!>”
You both channeled much of your remaining magic into him. You sensed his aches and pains of age and exertion, bruises from the battle so far, and the fog which had invaded his brain with the impact earlier. You pushed it out of him, filling him with curative energies, even as your burlier companion redoubled his flagging vitality and supercharged his weary muscles. Muffins watched you both with goat and serpent heads, while the other growled and groaned at the goblins who were charging to interrupt your casting…
[4d20 Healing for you, 2d20 for Pearce, 3d20 with DC dependent on your degree of success for Rudolfo, 2d20 for Goblins, 1d20 for...]
