[hr][center][@Hekazu] [color=tan]The Unnamable[/color][/center][hr]It all began so very fast.

At one moment, they had all been there, rushing along the street for safety in the form of the tavern both their guide and the drunkard had suggested they head, and the next dead men and their gigantic compatriot had marched in to do their dirty deeds. Having lost their interest in their old bloodied catch, the giant had moved in and crushed their guide to the street, ripping at their flesh with their teeth. It was likely too late for anything to be done at this time. But that only concerned the already dead man.

For all those that still stood, there were many things that could be done. The puppeteer took a few measured steps backwards as the purple eyes bounced between the many targets and a wandering hand reached for a tool of physical punishment under the coat. From the opposite side of the envelope, a sturdy metal reinforced cudgel was produced, one with a chipped metal ornament at the tip. But it was not yet time for it to meet the drooping flesh of these beings.

No, for now the eccentric individual had something completely different in mind. A mind wracked with many burdens formed itself to a lashing serpent and struck out against the hulking adversary's spiritual self, driving doubts and insecurities into the brutal foe's head. It would find making an attack beyond its own capability, were the ingenious plan of George to succeed.

>The Unnamable retreats ten feet towards the back of the party and draws out his Mace, wielding it in his free hand. Following that, he employs the Discipline of Psychic Assault in the form of Ego Whip (costing him 3 psi). The Troll has to make an INT save against his save DC of 13, or suffer 15 psychic damage and be rendered incapable of taking any actions other than Dodge, Disengage or Hide. On a successful save, the enemy suffers halved damage. In addition to all this, he employs his Mystical Recovery feature as a Bonus Action, restoring an amount of HP equal to the Psi Points spent on the Discipline.
[hr][center]Lucian[/center][hr]The child gripped the manservant reverently, underhooking his scalded arms around Sebastian's abdominal girth and not releasing its interlocking tether, as screams of pain escaped his agape lips. The fleeting fleece of gentle corrosion, falling like plucked feathers off a melting peacock, reminded him that work under his Grandmother may have been the lesser of the two evils. He would nonetheless stay with these adults, as his parents no longer bore his nor his sister's best interest at heart.

>Lucian takes the Dodge Action.

[hr][center][@BCTheEntity] [color=deepskyblue]Talran Galelove – Medium Friendly Paladin[/color][/center][hr]It wasn't clear what had just taken place immediately. One minute, the party was rushing to escape the hellish acidic sleet, Talran's own steed discorporating along with everyone else's save their newfound caster companion; the next, Egil and Markus were knocked down by a charging troll; and the moment after that, Markus was dead, rent asunder and devoured in a heartbeat by the undead monster that had smashed him away. All before Talran could truly recognize the threat.

What he felt then wasn't sorrow, not exactly. He hadn't known Markus for more than a few hours, so aside from the typical shock of watching somebody pass so hideously, he wasn't quite sad. Nor was he particularly disturbed by the vile scene. He'd seen worse. No, the prime emotion that struck Talran in that moment was fury. How dare this creature and its fellows come to destroy them so cruelly, and in so public a place?

A familiar message made itself known to him in memory. The voice that carried it had been light, ethereal, friendly. And yet merciless, too, as it described the subject: Destroy them. They seek rest, risen as they are; and so they must be quelled.

Teeth gritted, Talran looked to the manservant, calling [color=deepskyblue]'Take the boy to cover from this rain!'[/color] before he gritted his teeth and charged. His allies formed a wall of bodies for now; and so he rushed round them, all but leaping Egil's prone form as his weapon glowed with holy fury, his shield imposing still between the downed man and the undead. This oversized freak, the groaning minions beneath it, none would see the end of this storm, he vowed, swinging his blade towards its disgusting bulk with a scream of incensed hatred.

>The zombified troll has invoked Talran's divine fury. He rushes round to Egil's left and strikes at it, rolling a 23 to hit, then expends a spell slot to Smite the troll for an extra 2d8 damage plus another 1d8 due to its undead nature, dealing a total of 25 damage to the troll if he hits. His reaction will be used to ensure Egil is not wounded, imposing disadvantage on the first claw attack the troll makes toward him, if any, or the first instance of any other attack if the troll does not attempt to claw Egil.

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