Whilst the great Wyrm bellows--One Elvin Paladin, one braver than his peers hurls a lance at the great wyrm!<br/><br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">Roll Result: Elvin Knight rolled: 1d20, keeping 1 dice, adding 24to the total<br/>Comment: Hit Roll Enchanted Lance<br/>Result: 15, <br/>Total: 39 <br/><br/>Does a 39 Hit?</div></div><br/>The Silver shaft free from his hand he draws his sword--one of the maidens screams. Another reaches for her blade, a corona of blue holy light burns at the darkness and the Maelstrom of wickedness that is The Mordent Tempest.<br/><br/>Her sister, the maid with cornsilk hair shouts<strong>"Jhessail! No, sheath your weapon. We can't hope to defeat the beast!!!"</strong>But it is too late--those who are resolute prepare for battle and those who are filled with fear--all but the one knight and the one maiden scream and rush below decks!