4e: Quirky Miniboss Squad

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Boss Frost

Original poster
In Front of the Grand Library of Knowledge, Nyjal, Underdark

Stretching towards the top of the cavern with a yawn, the heavily muscular beastman waited for his companion to exit. Seven feet, four inches of strength and fur... From the expression on his face, he knew it. Raising an arm to flex it, he observed the way the muscles held safe under flesh parted fur as he moved them... It was personally hypnotizing - a point of pride to him.

The well-kept plate mail would have been hard to find on a member of his race: they were known to be filthy, nasty creatures. While many cover themselves in the blood of their prey and their own excrement in honor of their Demon Lord, this one was clean - well-kept... The symbol of the Tyrant Lord Bane emblazoned upon his shoulders. Hackles raising, the brown-spotted man turned his hyenalike face towards the door, wondering what was taking so long.

He had gone to pick up some equipment - his plate mail armor, and the massive hammer that sit next to him were proof of this act. He patted the hammer - more a barrel stuck on the end of a quarterstaff than a hammer... Magical, to boot. Splitting up to shop had been a good idea, at least in theory.

Granted, letting a drow male wander a shadowy, lightless drow city wasn't entirely thoughtful. They had chosen to meet here, but...

With a sigh, he hefted the hammer, resting it on a shoulder and entering the library... Almost immeadiately, he could feel the smouldering hate directed his way. A warrior enters a library populated by wizards. His fur rose with a chill. Trodding into the library, he attempts to find his sorcerous beloved...
The sorcerer drow was getting his share of the glares as well, as he worked his way though a large book of history and art. Wizards, apparently, found the young man distasteful - hardly surprising considering the young man's temperament and chosen profession. However, the sorcerer seemed rather oblivious to the scathing looks, and the whispered comments of "What's a sorcerer doing here?" and some other, rather nastier words. He had been studying in the library for sometime,as he had mounds of books and papers around them, with a few words scrawled on the sheets here and there. Notes, obviously.

His long grey-purple ears twitched slightly, and the drow looked up and smiled, seeing his confused companion lumber into the library. He looked a bit relieved. The drow-women had been giving him a hard time, and had been threatening to give him a harder one. The various wizards and magisters, all more disciplined than he, were beginning to grate on his nerves as bit as well. He welcomed the arrival of his gnoll with a smile and a wave. He snapped the book shut, a mushroom cloud of dust blooming out of it as he did so. He began to collect his notes, shoving them into the small leather satchel that he carried with him.

He slung it over his shoulder, cringing a little due to his bad back before walking up to his companion, "Hi Vilero. Nice smush-stick." He beamed, "I managed to get some reading done. I think I have a basic idea of the history of this place." He gave a glare to one of the wizards who looked at the couple with a particularly disapproving look. He leaned into the gnoll, Vilero, and murmured, "No thanks to these dicks."
The massive creature leans in, pressing the cold, wet nose on the drow's forehead. The closet he's figured out to a 'kiss'. The gnoll's muzzle didn't lend itself well to shows of emotion or love. His chest rumbled as he spoke, "Find anything interesting out about this world? I was tempted toward getting us a job here." He chuckled - a deep thumping noise - as his lips curled back in a grin. A bit discomforting at this range, but it was an attempted show of humor.

He gestures at the books, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that such a long-lived race compiles so much knowledge... I wonder if it's as biased as surface literature. Curious about drow myths and legends, too." With a smirk, he turns towards a wizard - looking increduously at the well-spoken beastman. "What?" With a growl toward the wizard, he went back to his own research. Vilero chuckled again.

"Well, we have some knowledge and some equipment... I've got no funds left. Can't even afford a drink at the tavern... Or an inn for the night. We've got to get some sort of job..." The gnoll slides around, wrapping his arms around the drow's body from behind in a hug, "Unless you have your heart set on sleeping under the glorious roof of rock... With only me to keep you warm..." A nuzzle against the drow's neck elicted... A different sort of attention from the assorted drow. Most revoulted, and at least one "too interested" female.

Vilero laughs, "Or we could use the tent and sleeping bags I bought. Might be a better tactic."
The drow nodded, and began to guide the oversized canine out of the library, gently taking one of his massively clawed hands in his small, delicate ones, " The tent idea is probably better, considering we have no money for a room at the inn and I don't want to just have arrived and already be in debt." He cocked his head, his too long white bangs flopping over his eyes slightly. His hair was cropped short, and messy, unusual for a drow, but to be fair, Sabil was not a particularly atypical drow, "That seems like a dim choice to me."

As the drow and his odd companion walked through the library, Sabil informed him of what he knew from the books, about several gods that had been raised to their divinity and some that had been outright killed. He then rambled about some war that was fought awhile ago and how, in the end, it was pretty pointless. Most of this was vague, and heavily laden with bizarre derivations from the main story of this place. He finally finished his air consuming rambling with the phrase, " In anycase, it was interesting. I see you got yourself some armour... and that friggin over-sized lolipop."

He stopped in his tracks, and looked up at the gnoll. The beastman was a good two heads taller than him, as he was only five foot, six inches, and thus, it was a long way to look. He reached up, stood on his toes, and patted the gnoll's cheek, "If I know how these things work, there's bound to be some shady guy who offers us a daring quest. Which we either accept, or are forced to accept later on. Unless, of course, it's one of your stories. In that case, we're probably both about to die."
"Aww. Give me some credit, hun, I always find a way to-" The gnoll's horrible lie was cut off by a young male drow wearing naught but a pair of pants. Clutching a scroll of parchment, he states, "Newcomers Sabil and Vilero, you have a message from the Queen." Without waiting for the two to ask what it is, the drow male continues, "There's a small battalion of human bandits that are using the Upperdark as a den. We're sending you to clear them out. This is a direct order from your Queen."

Vilero frowns. "Our Queen? What'd this all about? Also, why us? Don't you drow normally do this thing on your own?"

Stone-faced, the messenger continues, "The Queen's reasons are hers alone." Out of a corner, one of the male wizards shouts, "You're the weakest things in town!" Another states, "No one likes you!" Emboldened, one more yells, "We hope you die!"

Raising an arm to scratch the back of his own ear, Vilero smirks, "Pleasant folk. It's a wonder why no one visits." He was met with: "Go recieve kisses from an illithid!" Pointing at that particular drow, "Now that's just rude!" The messenger snickers, thumbing the exit. "Short walk to the Upperdark, newcomer."

Sighing as he walks past the messenger, hearing the jeers and laughs of the drow... He looks to Sabil. "Okay... It's fairly likely we might die. See, since I'm here, with you... I'm not in control of what happens. It's all fate and skill from here."
Sabil's shoulders slumped, and he made a face of intense disapproval. The young man ran a hand through his short, tangled hair, and looked pained. He wasn't particularly interested in being a puppet of the drow queen. That sounded like the antithesis of a good time, but he figured that they wouldn't die. Vilero was bright enough that he could either get them out of this mess, or he would have some clever mechanism for getting this task done. If they had to rely on Sabil's strategies, they were more than certainly dead.

He rubbed his temples, and then the small drow finally said, "It's that way?" he said wearily, and then he looked back at Vilero, "I've already accepted the fact that there is, in fact, no way to avoid this quest. And that it will suck. Hopefully, it will not be part of a longer storyarc. And if it is..." He trailed off, though there was a tinge of a threat on his tongue.

He began to head off in the direction of the Upperdark, muttering various curses and phrases under his breath, grumbling all the way. Audibly, the phrases, 'Why is it always me?' and 'This is bullshit', and 'How do they always find me?' came up several times. Beyond that, however, there might have been an edge of excitement -- Sabil might have been a bit eager to prove his usefulness to his compatriot; eagerness to please was a large aspect of his personality, though it managed to be hidden by other things.
"At least it's just bandits." The massive gnoll slowed his pace - normally, his strides would overtake the small drow with ease. So he had to compensate to allow the smaller creature some sanctity of being. "Imagine if this was like a bard's story." He gestures with his hands (as best he could without dropping the maul), "Okay, game starts ideallic and nice! Then... TRAGICALLY, the evil overlord comes and ravages your town, kills all your friends and family, and strolls on his merry way." He rolls his eyes, "Thr. We'd have to put a party together, mess with all that angst... Just work, work, work... Or worse! A captured princess plot." With a distasteful shiver, he adds: "What moron does captured royalty plots anymore? It never works."

Watching his bare paws on the sharp, rocky ground, he continues, "At least we'll be getting some experience for this, if nothing else. Also, unlike all those bard's stories, everyone starts off hating us! There's no where but up from here!"

Realizing his place right then, he amends, "Up, socially. Underdark-wise, there's a long way down." Tossing his hammer up a ledge, he pulls himself up with ease and offers a hand to Sabil, helping him up as well. "Shouldn't be long now. I'd keep my eyes peeled for wandering monsters, though... You know, besides us."

Meanwhile, in the Bandit Camp
An athletic man steps cooly through the caves, towards the canvas area where his boss had set up. Winding the corner and pushing open the tarp, he calls out, "Sir!"

...No answer.

"...Sir?" The man looks around, searching for the bandit leader. After a moment of searching, a meek "Yeah?" could be heard. The athletic man jumps in surprise, whirling to look towards the sound of the voice. Wearing grey, and blending perfectly with the corner's darkness, was the bandit lord.

Catching his heart, the lone bandit speaks, "Sir, I most protest camping in this cave. It's a direct route to the Underdark." A few moments of silence... The two just staring at each other. "...Sir?"

The quiet "Sorry" that followed was almost a pathetic sound. The athletic bandt continued, "I mean, the men are getting restless. Maybe if there was some reason we are camped here? Some treasure nearby? Tactical advantage? Maybe the Underdark denizens do not know we are here...? Maybe we're trying to hide here so, tactically, mercenaries can't find us, or wouldn't want to take the job...?"

The bandit boss tilts his head to the side, sighing. He seems to be thinking about it. Impatiently, the athletic bandit yells "SIR!?"

Finally, Boss Hos states: "I like... Girls."

"...Please tell me you don't mean drow women." The awkward giggle from the man's boss answers his question.

"I hate my life," is all the man could think of as he exits, leaving Boss Hos to his awkward giggling.
Sabil pulled himself up, with some help from his much larger and stronger friend. He was still grumbling, naturally. His disposition was one of grumbling, amusement, and cowardice, and he was happy to enact the first of that trio. The little drow was slightly winded at this point, considering his poor health, and paused to catch his breath a moment. He cocked his head, pondering the cliche, fantasy aspects of their situations, "Are we the reverse adventuring party? You know, the evil-mirror universe duplicates of a party that run into them when the carto-- I mean, storyteller, needs a plot point?"

As he clambered up a series of rocks, with some difficulty, he continued to speak, "I bet good-version me is a wizard. Maybe it was even one of those bitchy wizard guys in the libraries. Sorcerers get such a bad reputation. I'm sorry that we have talent, wizards, and that you guys actually have to WORK at it," He snickered in a rather unkind way that was actually alarmingly drow-like.

He sat ontop of the pile of rocks, grinning, "I almost threw you guys at a captured princess plot once. Then I realized that Fox would just... break... my beautifully designed castle. So, I decided against it. It would break my heart for him to get thrown through a flaming door again. I might even shed a tear," The drow wiped away an imaginary tear, before looking around, puzzled, "so... where is this Upperdark, exactly?"
Answering that final question with an index finger pointed towards the ceiling and a wry grin, he continued to walk. "Just kidding. Technically, we're in the Upperdark already. The town we were in - Nyjal - is situated there. However, because most of the place is considered Upperdark, that's just what this level is called..." He thinks about it for a while, with a frown. "Which... Actually makes it hard to figure out which part we're headed to..." Ears folded on his head in displeasure, accented by a growl.

He got over it quickly, chuckling. "Yeah, Fox would have busted the whole deal apart. Sorta wish he were here. His plans are some of the most ridiculous tactics in the world... But they tend to work. Combined with my strength and your power, we'd have an entire level of the Underdark before anyone could protest." He sighs wistfully, imagining the crown on his perfect, muscular body... He growled in approval of himself.

"Heh, it would have been a wizard to match you in the Old World... Here, it's probably a rogue or warlock. Matching pew-pew with more pew-pew." A shrug displaced his shoulder armor, which groaned in protest at the movement - being stretched a trite too far. Vilero moved it back in place and ignored it. "Probably be another strongman against me. Any puny clothies would just... Fall. Smush, you know?"

Squinting his eyes in the darkness, his head begins to drag on the low roof. Ducking down a bit, he frowns, "Wish we still had cantrips. Light would be a blessing, considering I don't have darkvision. You might have to guide me here in a second... Unless you brought a torch or bought a lantern?" He grumbles, "I'd have bought one, but I spent all my gold on the heavy stuff."
Sabil shrugged his shoulders, "No. I didn't think to get one. You KNOW how practical I am." He smiled thoughtfully, "I have some sunrods though, which we can use if we're going to need them." He peered into the darkness, "I guess I could just shoot a bolt of homebred, handcrafted chaos down the way. It'd illuminate it for a second, and possibly zap anything harmful." He tipped his head to the sign, "Then again, it'd zap anything useful too. It is chaos after-all," His ears dipped a little at the fond memories of such things as 'Chaotic Neutral', and, more specifically, his friend Fox. And then, Sabil remembered the jumping-door thing and his wave of nostalgia quickly evaporated.

The drow looked around a little, seeing what he could see. He was in a cave. He seemed to be in unpleasant, underground places more and more these days. The fact that he didn't like these dort of places was not very drow-like of him at all, "I hate caves," he said out-loud, "I always feel lost in them, possibly because I always AM lost." He took off his backpack and began to root around in it, looking for his sunrods. He pulled it out and waved it at the gnoll for a moment, "Shall we crack open one of these before I have to lead you? Because we both know that my leadership tends to have an adverse effect on things."
"Heh heh, yeah. We should light one of those up... Your sense of direction isn't so hot." He winks, "If we find a wisdom increasing item, you get it... If there are even any of them left in the New World... Speaking of which, did you figure out what the name of this world was while you were in the library...?"

Taking the sunrod between index and thumb, he rose the device to get a slightly better look around. "Hrmph. Can't see that far, but it's better than pitch darkness. Sort of wish we'd get there by now. I'm itching to test these muscles." He rose an arm, flexing it and grinning at the overstuffed-football-sized buldge.

The two step into a larger cavern, a bridge of drow design spanning the space between two caves, on opposite sides of a great chasm. Below, it continues down into darkness. Above, the barest trickle of the afternoon's light shines through. Vilero squints up at it. "Huh. Guess it's still day out. I don't think that was built there intentionally... I thought drow were blinded in daylight." Stopping to look around, he points, "Hey, there are other bridges... I guess those are other tunnels."

It didn't keep his attention long, his urge to use his strength boiling up - quite literally. The beastman was a source of heat rivalling a campfire. One wouldn't be surprised of his armor began to glow with this heat... It didn't, of course, but it wouldn't be surprising. "You know, we'll probably have to make camp before we get there. One thing that's nice about underdark travel is that you just camp whenever you're tired or wounded, rather than by night or day... At least, I think it's nice."

He raises an arm to scratch at the fur on his chin. "...Wish I had Nature as a skill. Or Dungeoneering. It would make finding my way to the Upperdark a lot easier. I would have taken it, you know, but... Well, I had to get Athletics and Endurance instead. They seemed more fun. Weird, though, forgeting most of my knowledges."
Sabil thought for a moment, and looked up at the light. He felt surprisingly not blinded. He cocked his head. Apparently, in this world, Drow weren't blinded like he knew he was. The little drow looked at the caves too, and felt a shiver. His sense of direction was truly terrible, and he was glad his gnoll was here with him. He clung to the canine's arm, a little afraid to be honest. The last dungeon he had been in was back in Old World, and it had an adverse effect on his sense of adventure.

The young drow finally said, "I heard tell that this world is apparently called... 4E, a magical, yet rather small world." He looked around, and found his vision to be remarkably unimpaired, despite the sunlight he had just looked at.

Sabil looked at Vilero, "I think that I can't be blinded now. It's weird," He shrugged, "I might have some knowledges. After-all, I am a sorcerer. A totally powerful one," He began to rummage in his backpack, "I'm sure that if I checked my character sheet I could figure it out," He smiled and laughed, "Though really, I would only have history and dungeoneering. I'm kind of a fail when it comes to the knowledges."
"Actually, I was asking what the name of this world." He points towards the ground as he walked. "The new system is something that's rather familiar to me. Surely, this world we're on has a name?" He smiles knowingly, gesturing about. "I mean, sure, we're in the Underdark of this world. I'm just curious as to what it's called... I doubt we're in Eberron or Faerun, and I doubt we're in the Greyhawk continuity." He taps the symbol of Bane on his shoulder. "The Lord Bane, in his Iron-Fisted Rulership, does not exist in Greyhawk."

"I find it interesting the evolution going on. You losing your light blindness, me losing that... Hunger. Gnolls were once eternally hungry. Now I don't feel a thing besides a need to prove myself in battle against strong opponents." He inhales deeply, chest piece straining against the action. "...Of course it might be Bane that has relieved me of Yeenoghu's hunger. For that, I'll have to thank him with my hammer." Patting the hammer, he looks about cautiously as he walks. "Probably best that we're technically monsters for this. Bane's only got love in a few places, Underdark being one of them."
The drow shrugged, and looked around the cavern some more, for any distinguishing features on the wall, any traps or tapestries. It seemed to really be just a cave, and not a dungeon as he had previously imagined. He still clung a little to Vilero's arm, thickly muscled and soft, out of anxiety and maybe even a little fear. Sabil laughed a little at the notion of the the oh-so-powerful Bane flat out not existing in a particular setting. His own deity was the goddess of love and beauty - though he would have worshiped Vecna or Asmodeus if given the opportunity, for he loved them both. Particularly Asmodeus, but then again, he found the Hells to be the coolest places in the world, even though he had no desire to go there. He shook his head, trying to focus on the matter at hand, "Well, according to some of the maps I looked at, we're under the continent of Ysgard," He smiled up at Vilero, "You know, like the place in Nordic mythology?"

Sabil clambered up a series of rocks carefully, and put his hands on his hips, looking around a little, "I wish I had bought a weapon," He confessed to Vilero, "I mean, yeah, I have some seriously badass magic - dazzling ray is a beast - but I think I'd feel safer with some sort of weapon at my waist to discourage people from screwing with me cause they think I'm unarmed." The elf raised his hand, and attempted to conjure some light, willing his finger to glow like a sunrod, but nothing happened. He sighed, and put down his hand, "Besides, I don't have any utility spells. It sucks."
"Ysgard, huh? I guess there are worse places to be." Stopping his movement to move back and nuzzle the drow's forehead, he proclaimed, "No worries. I'm weapon enough for both of us - of that you can be assured." Turning back to continue moving, he states, "If it makes you feel better, I've got no utility powers either. Gotta rely on our skills until we reach Level 2... And even then, neither of us are controllers. Most of your utilities will be damage boosting or flight, and all of mine will involve defense or just taking damage for you." He sighs, "We should recruit a Leader and Controller type later. I don't relish the thought of being both Defender and Leader types for us..."

Turning back, he explains, "The battle role of Leader is a healer type. I'm completely fine with being the party leader."

He adjusts the hammer on one shoulder to scratch an itch on his cheek, "Granted, do we know anyone that would be of any help? The Iwaku members, sure, but they're... Less than 4e receptive... And getting them here would be a real pain in the tail." He shrugs, armor groaning again.

Down the corridor, a voice: "Wot's tha? I 'ear voices!" After some arguing and a mighty shuffling of feet, Vilero and Sabil are joined by nine humans... All of whom smelled horrible, and looked worse. "People o' the Undahdark! We mean you..." The bandits all pull out weapons, "...No harm!"

Vilero snorts loudly, "Time to earn our utility powers." Hefting the hammer in to two hands, he readies himself for attack!
Sabil sighed, and began to make some motions with his hand. He had seen this whole sort of set-up before, mainly because it's what he usually tried. Talk first to get their attention, then stab them in the back. Well, not stab them, in this case... He resolved to stop thinking about the logistics of his former-self's various attacks and such like, and decided to prepare something nasty to blast these guys.

Apparently, however, Sabil felt the need to crack all of his knuckles prior to this, and was busy doing that, while the others were preparing for battle, thus abandoning the arcane gestures he was making. The drow felt like he had all the time in the world...

[Sabil has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 1 [Total: 1 Average: 1]] + 3 } Total: 4
More eager than his companion for battle, Vilero decides not to let them move further than he wants them to. Spinning his hammer off of his shoulder, he steps forward. Letting out a wordless, bloodthirsty roar, he swings at the nearest offender, getting good and close into the melee... The breaking of bones echoed throughout the cavern, the man flying back a few feet and crumpling in a heap among the ground.

The man in the back screams, "Get the gnoll slave first! The drow's just a watcher!" In the narrow hallway, one man moves in to take the deceased man's place, three attacking with their clubs... Vilero laughs off the attacks - the horrible hyena laughter disturbing the third attacker so much that he fumbles his club.

"You morons!" The bandit in the back screams at them, turning slightly red in the face, "Kill him already!"

Initiative: Vilero, Rabble, Rabble, Rabble, Rabble, Rabble, Rabble, Bandit, Rabble, Rabble, Sabil.
Red = Dead.

+Vilero uses Valiant Strike! He hits, causing 14 damage and killing a Rabble outright.
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 6 [Total: 6 Average: 6]]
[Vilero has rolled 2 6-sided dice with results: 4, 3 [Total: 7 Average: 4]]

+Three Rabble attack using Clubs... all miss fantastically.
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 1 [Total: 1 Average: 1]]

[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 8 [Total: 8 Average: 8]]
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 6 [Total: 6 Average: 6]]

+The other bandits prepare an action to move into place if an ally falls.

-Initiative rolls:

[Vilero has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 20 [Total: 20 Average: 20]]
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 6 [Total: 6 Average: 6]]
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 8 [Total: 8 Average: 8]]
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 5 [Total: 5 Average: 5]]
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 11 [Total: 11 Average: 11]]
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 17 [Total: 17 Average: 17]]
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 6 [Total: 6 Average: 6]]
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 10 [Total: 10 Average: 10]]
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 7 [Total: 7 Average: 7]]
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 5 [Total: 5 Average: 5]]

Sabil finally got his act together, and decided that maybe cracking his knuckles whilst watching his gnoll compatriot smash in other people's ribcages, was maybe not the most productive use of his time. He realized that using some magic might in-fact be a good idea. He began to fire up some spells, feeling the familiar tingle of arcane magic in his fingers. He got a maniacal grin on his face, reminiscent of a certain half-elf assassin, and attempted to blast the bandit to Vilero's right with some good-old fashioned chaos bolt.

Sabil happily blasted the snot out of the bandit to Vilero's right, and grinned maybe a tad maliciously as the mook fell, "Stop bein' a bitch, Bandoraleous!'
[Sabil has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 15 [Total: 15 Average: 15]] +4} 19 to Hit
[Sabil has rolled 1 10-sided dice with results: 5 [Total: 5 Average: 5]] +4} 9 Damage
Tilting his head slightly to see someone get melted by chaotic energy. It was actually pretty disturbing, so he chose to occupy himself with another bandit. Grabbing the man by the scruff of the neck, he throws him in the air... putting both hands back on the hammer, he readies a swing... and lets the screaming bandit have it, hitting him like a baseball player hits a ball out of the park. The man skids on the roof of the cavern, ricocheting off it and nearly colliding with the bandit in the back - who moves out of the way with a scowl.

Two more rabble, heedless to their own danger, move forward to strike Vilero with their clubs. Deflecting off the gnoll's armor, they begin to question their current lifestyles and wonder if they really should have become bakers like their mothers wanted.

From the back, their leader screams, "I... AM NOT... A BITCH!" Whipping a dagger from his boot, he aims and chucks it towards Sabil... it soars over the crowd of bandits, entering the sorcerer in the shoulder, causing a great deal of pain, considering the blade's serrated edge. "Eat that, ball-less wonder!"

Initiative: Vilero, Rabble, Rabble, Rabble, Rabble, Rabble, Rabble, Bandit, Rabble, Rabble, Sabil.

+Vilero uses Valiant Strike! He critically hits, automatically doing max damage. The rabble takes 19 damage and dies spectacularly.
[Vilero has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 20 [Total: 20 Average: 20]]

+Three Rabble move up into position, though none of them do any damage... at all.

[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 4 [Total: 4 Average: 4]]

[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 2 [Total: 2 Average: 2]]

[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 2 [Total: 2 Average: 2]]

+The other bandits ready an action to move and replace deceased comrades.

+The Bandit whips out a dagger, chucking it at Sabil, hitting him and doing 7 points of damage.
[Bandits! has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 18 [Total: 18 Average: 18]]
[Bandits! has rolled 1 4-sided dice with results: 4 [Total: 4 Average: 4]]
Sabil did not appreciate being hit with a dagger to the shoulder. In fact, he probably would have swore at him to keep up the quasi-witty banter, but since he was in a pain, and his vision had blacked itself out there for a moment; the most the drow could do was howl in pain. He felt tears spring to his eyes, but he managed to get his fingers to make the arcane gestures. He mentally prepared himself to fire a bolt of pure chaos at the mook to Vilero's left, but his spell fizzled on his finger tips. His eyes went wide, and he mumbled, "Oh shit," to himself before promptly feeling the need to wet himself.
He somehow resisted.

[Sabil has rolled 1 20-sided dice with results: 10 [Total: 10 Average: 10]]} 14