A Game of Intrigue and Cunning (Blitzkreig)

[cryosabre]

In the sweltering heat of the Zephyrion Empire, where the golden sands stretch endlessly and opulent palaces rise like mirages, begins the tale of Zasheir al-Jassan. You, the clandestine offspring of the powerful sultan, Xerxes and his most secretive concubine, Elithra. Born amidst the veiled chambers of the harem, your existence has always been a carefully guarded secret, a whisper in the wind, never to be acknowledged by the sultan publicly. Yet, within you burns a fire unmatched, a deep-seated ambition fuelled by the potent blood of your lineage. You have inherited a rare gift, a natural affinity for the arcane, a spark of sorcery that sets you apart from your legitimate siblings who bask in the glory of their birth right.

Elithra, a woman of cunning and foresight, knew that your path to power would not be through open confrontation but through subtle manipulation and making alliances. Thus, she instilled in you the principles by which you have chosen to live your life: to use the system and its laws to your advantage, bending them to your will while maintaining a veneer of legitimacy. As you grew, so did your mastery of the arcane, your mind weaving spells of deception and control as easily as a spider spins its web.

Now, you stand ready to step into a world teeming with opportunities and perils. The sultan, in a grandiose display of both wisdom and vanity, has decreed the "Game of Heirs." Each of his legitimate children is sent to a different corner of the empire, and beyond, to prove their worthiness for the throne. They must gather allies, achieve great deeds, and demonstrate their capability to rule.

You, however, do not enter this grand game with the same fanfare as your siblings, but through the back door of secrecy and cunning. Unbeknownst to the sultan and his court, you are sent to a region untouched by the other contestants. It is a land of forgotten magic, ancient ruins, and hidden dangers. Here, you will build your strength, forge alliances, and demonstrate your worthiness to claim the throne that is rightfully denied to you.

Elithra, your mother, deigned to give you one final gift before you left on your adventure - her most trusted confidant and best agent, Gor'Thok the Ironfist. A giant of a man with muscles like coiled steel and a gaze as sharp as the sword he wields, he is more than a mere protector; he is a silent sentinel, a living shield gifted by Elithra, your mother and only real ally besides Gor'Thok. His loyalty to you is as unwavering as the mountains, and his strength, an unspoken vow of your safety.

------

After many weeks of traveling in disguise and now far from the scorching sands and gilded palaces of the Zephyrion Empire, you and Gor'Thok find yourselves in the dense, shadowed heart of the Eldarwood Forest. This dense, enigmatic forest stands as the last barrier before Halbeath, a bustling town known for its vibrant trading scene and as a crucible for adventurers and ambitious souls. Halbeath, with its throngs of traders, travelers, and tales of valor, presents the perfect stage for you to begin your quest for domination and to recruit allies who can appreciate the allure of power.

Navigating through the Eldarwood, with its towering ancient trees and the air heavy with the scent of damp earth, you are enveloped in an atmosphere of secrecy and vigilance. It's here, amid the whispers of the forest and the shadows that dance between the branches, that your journey takes an unexpected turn.

In a swift, silent motion, Gor'Thok presses you against a moss-covered tree, his large hand sealing your words, while his other finger pressed to his lips signals an urgent need for silence. After a tense moment, he cautiously lowers his hand, and your sharpened half-elven senses begin to pick up distant sounds. Voices drift through the underbrush, retracing the path you just tread.

"'e def'natley came this way, Brayze. Look 'ere. That orc that done watches the runt left 'is great big boot print in the moss," a rugged voice carries through the trees, laced with determination and purpose. Gor'Thok's raised eyebrow silently queries you, a wordless communication: What is our play?

The voices, at least three or four, suggest a search party, likely tracking someone - or perhaps, you realize with a mix of caution and intrigue, tracking you.

Zephyrion Empire

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Gor'Thok the Ironfist

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Elderwood Forest

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Name: Zasheir al-Jassan
Race: Half-Elf
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Appearance:

Background: Courtier

Inventory: A set of fine clothes, a pouch containing 5 gp, an arcane focus, two daggers, a quarterstaff, an explorer's kit, +2 Bloodwell Vial

Class: Sorcerer (Succubus Bloodline)
Level: 1
Hit Points: 9/9
Arousal: 0/9
Armor Class: 16
Inhibition: 16
Proficiency Bonus: +2
Languages: Common, Elven, Infernal, Draconic, Orcish
Ability Scores:
Strength: 8

Athletics: -1

Dexterity: 16

Acrobatics: +3
Sleight of Hand: +3
Stealth: +3

Constitution: 16 (s)
Intelligence: 8

Arcana: -1
History: -1
Investigation: -1
Nature: -1
Religion: -1

Wisdom: 10

Animal Handling: 0
Insight: +2 (p)
Medicine: 0
Perception: +2 (p)
Survival: 0

Charisma: 16 (s)

Deception: +5 (p)
Intimidation: +5 (p)
Performance: +5 (p)
Persuasion: +5 (p)

Class Features:
Spellcasting: Spell save DC = 13, Spell attack bonus = +5
Armor of Vanity:
Beginning at 1st level when you choose this subclass, your abyssal beauty causes even the most hardened foe to think twice about striking you. While wearing fetish armor or no armor, your Armor class equals 10 + your Dexterity modifier + your Charisma modifier.
Aura of Sin
Also at 1st level, the carnal magic suffusing your body as a visible effect on those around you. Creatures who begin their turn within 5 ft of you must succeed on an inhibition saving throw against your spell save DC, or become hyperaroused until the start of their next turn.
Racial Features:
Darkvision:
Thanks to your elf blood, you have superior vision in dark and dim conditions. You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You can't discern color in darkness, only shades of gray.
Fey Ancestry:
You have advantage on saving throws against being charmed, and magic can't put you to sleep.
Skill Versatility:
You gain proficiency in two skills of your choice.
Languages:
You can speak, read, and write Common, Elvish, and one extra language of your choice.

Feats:

Fetishes:

Rebellious Brat:
Just because you want to be dominated, doesn’t mean you are going to make it easy. You have Advantage on Saving throws against Intimidation and Persuasion checks. When you fail a saving throw against an intimidation or persuasion check, you gain psychic stimulation equal to half the Saving throw DC.

Spells:

Cantrips:
Mage Hand
Minor Illusion
Mind Sliver
Prestidigiation

Level 1:
Silvery Barbs
Sleep

Only in Zasheir's wildest dreams could he have imagined the events unfolding around him. His esteemed sire, whose shadow he had been made to live in for years, declared that there would be a race for the throne. Where his children would battle for dominance and the right to sit on the throne of their royal father, and ultimately claim the Sultanate for themselves. It could only have occurred in his wildest dreams because it was just that: a dream he had held since he was old enough to dream at all. He had been denied the legitimacy of his siblings, and yet he was their greater all the same.

All he needed was the chance to prove it.

And with that very chance afforded to him, there was little to stand in his way. Aside from the terribly droll walk, of course. For all the resentment he felt towards his more legitimate siblings, he had been well-cared for at the palace, as befitting the child of a favored concubine. He had never wanted for warmth, for food, for pleasure. Yet with the opportunity to prove himself a worthy successor came the barbarity of common life. Before the so-called "Game of Heirs", Zasheir's delicate feet had scarcely been made to walk farther than the span of the palace's walls. Now he was expected to walk across continents with little more for company than a hulking, silent wall of an orc.

Not that the elf-blooded princeling particularly minded, of course. He had always had a certain... affection for Gor'thok's kind. If only he could be persuaded to spend the nights doing more than brooding silently and watching for danger, perhaps Zasheir could trade the soreness in his feet for a more enjoyable sort of tenderness in another, needier place...

Lost in the reverie of that pleasant thought, the half-elf bastard found himself pressed into the moss by the very beast he had been idly fantasizing about. The sensation of the brute's musclebound form pinning him to the rock and his fingers across his mouth almost sent a shiver up Zasheir's spine. The circumstances that brought it on, however, did little to arouse him.

It seemed he would not be half so wanting for company in the moments to come. Somebody had tracked him, and judging by the way they dared refer to him as a runt, he could only imagine they were not in the employ of his beloved mother. Like as not, one of his siblings had decided to dispatch a party after him to tie up the loose end he presented. A pity they thought so little of him to only send four men.

Reaching his slender fingers up to grasp at the orc's hand and peel it away from his lips, the petite sorcerer made his intentions known by mouthing his words: 'Diversion. You attack. I cast.'

It was a simple enough thing for him to accomplish. Though he was no great sorcerer yet, he could use his knowledge of parlor tricks to cause a little ruckus along the road opposite where they hid. When the men tracking them went off to investigate, Gro'thok could descend upon them with his blade, and Zasheir could thin their numbers with a well-placed Sleep while his guardian did the gruesome work of dispatching them.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Just for the record, the 'parlor trick' would be using Prestidigitation to make the sound of a snapping branch go off

[cryosabre]

Battle map

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Enemy perception rolls; Scout - 7 FAIL, Tracker - 9 FAIL, Brute - 5 FAIL, Leader - 2 FAIL ALL SURPRISED (rofl what were those rolls)

Gor'Thok Greatsword+1 ATTACK > Tracker - Nat 20 - 18 damage - KILL

Zasheir CAST Sleep lvl 1 (5D8)- 17 (1+1+3+6+6) - Scout SLEEP, Brute AWAKE

Gro'thok, with his brutish yet distinctly rugged features, nodded subtly in understanding, a mask of determination etched across his face. There was a certain calm about him, a serenity that spoke of a life shaped by relentless hardship. Yet, beneath this tranquil facade, you could sense his muscles tensed like coiled steel, primed for the imminent clash. With a fluid, almost stealthy motion, he released you and melted into the shadows, his imposing frame surprisingly agile.

Now liberated from Gro'thok's protective grasp, you harnessed your arcane energy. Muttering a spell under your breath, you conjured an auditory illusion—a cacophony of cracking branches followed by the overlapping voices of your pursuers that seemed to come from the road you had just traversed.

"'Ey! D'you 'ear that, boys! We got 'im! 'E must be just t'rew 'ere!"

The ruse was perfect. The pursuers' voices receded, their footsteps thundering towards the illusory disturbance. At that moment, Gro'thok glanced back at you, the corners of his mouth hinting at a rare smile, and he nodded slightly—a silent signal before lunging into the fray.

With a roar that seemed to shake the very earth, Gro'thok exploded from his cover. The men, caught off guard, stared in horror as this embodiment of fury charged at them. The moment was frozen in time, their faces etched with the realization of impending doom.

As Gro'thok engaged the enemy, the elegance of his movements was unexpectedly mesmerizing. His great sword, an extension of his own formidable strength, cleaved through the air with a dancer's grace and a warrior's brutality. The first man, evidently a tracker, stood petrified, unable to react as Gro'thok's blade split him in twain with a fluid, deadly arc.

Emboldened by Gro'thok's ferocity, you too sprang into action. Muttering another incantation, you blew into your fist, sending a shimmering mist swirling towards your foes. The spell's potency was immediate—the archer of their group slumped to the ground, ensnared in a deep magical slumber.

However, not all succumbed so easily. As the mist began to ensnare a larger adversary, a well-dressed man, likely their leader, slapped him back to alertness and barked orders,

"The runt's there, behind the orc! Kill him and the reward's ours, Malachi! Hold this brute off, and I'll go after him!"

The element of surprise had vanished, replaced by the stark reality of the battle at hand. It was clear now; the true test of your skills and Gro'thok's might had just begun.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

ZasheirZasheir could not help but curse as his magic failed him in his time of need. There were only so many such spells that he could conjure over the course of a particular day, and with half the party still standing, he had not managed to even the odds nearly as much as he wished to. What was worse, it seemed their foe was intent on targetting him rather than the mass of muscle that presented itself as his bodyguard. Foul words muttered under his breath all the while, the lithe half-elf hurried to the side, hoping to angle himself such that the leader would either have to rush passed Gor'thok and risk retalation, or swing a wide circle around the orcish warrior and end up unable to catch him.

Of course, simply running and hiding in the background was not behavior befitting of a scion of Xerxes. So, once he had gotten himself into position, the little sorcerer used his mouth for more than just uttering profanity under his breath and chanted the incantation for Mind Sliver instead, aiming the psychic force not for the leader, but the brute who had he set upon Gor'thok. The sooner that one died, the sooner they could set to capturing the one who was likely to know more about the mysterious benefactor who hired them.

[cryosabre]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Turn order: Gor'Thok (19), Zashier (16), Brayze (15), Thug (11)

Gor'Thok > Thug ATTACK Greatsword+1 = 19 hit 13 damage

Zashier > Thug CAST Mind Sliver (Cantrip) - INT SAVE= 2 FAIL / DAMAGE- 5 KILL

Brayze > Gor'Thok ATTACK Longsword (2h) = 14 MISS

As you swiftly maneuver through the dense underbrush, seeking a vantage point, you keep a watchful eye on the unfolding melee. Positioning yourself strategically, you ensure that Gor'Thok stands as a formidable barrier between you and the bandit leader. Gor'Thok, gripping his massive sword with practiced ease, circles the brute with a predator's focus, hunting for the perfect moment to deliver a fatal strike.

In a tactical move to hasten the brute's demise, you channel your arcane energy into casting Mind Sliver. The spell, invisible yet potent, finds its mark, piercing the thug's feeble mental defenses effortlessly. As the psychic assault hits, the thug's hands fly to his head, his face contorted in agony. He is clearly overwhelmed by the sudden, searing pain.

Gor'Thok, ever the opportunist in battle, capitalizes on this moment of vulnerability. With a swift and brutal arc of his sword, he inflicts a deep gash across the thug's chest, staggering him backward. As the brute reels from the physical blow, your Mind Sliver mercilessly shatters his already weakened mental resolve, leaving him to collapse lifelessly to the forest floor, a victim of both physical and psychic onslaught.

The bandit leader, witnessing the fall of his comrade, now redirects his fury towards Gor'Thok. With a vengeful roar, he charges, sword swinging in a deadly arc towards the orc. However, Gor'Thok, ever the skilled warrior, anticipates the attack. With a deft sidestep, he evades the blow, the leader's sword cleaving nothing but air. This misstep throws the leader off balance, leaving him exposed and vulnerable for a brief but critical moment.

The scene is tense, the leader's vulnerability an opportunity that could turn the tide of this encounter. The forest holds its breath, awaiting your next move.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

It was a small relief to see one of the thugs so easily fall. The leader would prove to be a more daunting sort, Zasheir was certain, but with any luck, they would be able to bring him down without cutting him into multiple parts. That would make the interrogation to follow a significantly harder thing to handle.

All the same, though, he needed to be incapacitated. Calling upon the same invocation that had felled his companion, Zasheir made to use Mind Sliver once more. Were the bandit able to pierce through the guard of his devoted janissary, then he did not one more trick up his sleeve: putting his prickly tongue to use to distract their foe and give Gor'thok an opening.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Saving his reaction for when/if the bandit leader gets a hit in on Gor'thok, in which case he'll use Silvery Barbs.

[cryosabre]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

G'T > Brayze - ATTACK Greatsword +1 - 13 MISS

zashier > Brayze CAST Mind Sliver - WISDOM SAVE 3 FAIL / 1 damage / -2 next saving throw

G'T > Brayze - OPPORTUNITY ATTACK Greatsword +1 - 19 HIT / 9 DAMAGE

In the thick of the forest's chaos, Gor'Thok, seizing a moment of potential advantage, lunges at the bandit leader with a ferocious swing of his massive sword. However, the leader, keenly aware of the orc's movements, sidesteps with surprising agility. Gor'Thok's blade slices through the air, missing its intended target and embedding itself momentarily in the earth.

Refusing to be deterred by this setback, you focus your arcane energy, targeting the bandit leader with a Mind Sliver spell. The incantation slips easily from your lips, weaving through the battlefield unseen. The psychic assault finds its mark, burrowing into the bandit leader's mind with ruthless efficiency. He staggers, his mental defenses overwhelmed by the spell, a look of acute pain crossing his features as he fails to resist the invasive magic.

Seeing an opportunity amidst his disorientation, the bandit leader attempts a strategic retreat towards his fallen comrade, intent on reviving him to bolster their dwindling numbers. However, this movement does not go unnoticed by Gor'Thok. As the bandit leader turns his back, leaving the orc's immediate combat range, Gor'Thok seizes the chance for an opportunity attack.

With a roar of defiance, Gor'Thok swiftly withdraws his sword from the ground and swings it in a wide arc towards the bandit leader. This time, his attack finds its mark, the blade cutting across the leader's back as he moves away. The leader grunts in pain, the force of the hit staggering him forward, yet he continues, driven by sheer willpower, to reach his unconscious ally.

Despite the fresh wound inflicted by Gor'Thok's timely strike, the bandit leader manages to shake his ally awake. "Get up and help me, you oaf! Shoot the runt!" he gasps, pain lacing his voice. The previously slumbering bandit groggily rises, confusion quickly giving way to awareness as he grasps the situation and raises his bow, lining up a shot in your direction as his captain stands between him and Gor'Thok.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Zasheir clicked his tongue in frustration at the scene unfolding before him. Had he focused more on offensive magics during his education, he might have had a greater number of options on hand to dispatch the hired thugs in shorter order. Without a greater repertoire of spells, he was rather limited in his ability to stem the tides. The first bandit scurrying to his feet was a significant problem: the half-elf, for all his dexterity, was unsure of how well he could dodge arrows while his orcish companion set about dispatching their foes. The simplest way to prevent that was, of course, to dispatch the bandit with the bow.

Yet instead of a more powerful option, he was left with only one choice. Murmuring the chant for a spell he had already cast once, the princeling made to cast Sleep once more, hoping that it would have a greater impact given the wounds that the leader sported after his melee with Gor'thok.

[cryosabre]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

GK>brayze - attack greatsword +1 - 19 HIT - 6 DAMAGE
Archer (init 18) > Zashier attack[/] bow - 17 [b]HIT - 1 damage
Zashier CAST SLEEP - 32 NON-LETHAL DAMAGE - both asleep.

ENCOUNTER OVER

As you contemplate your limited magical arsenal, Gor'Thok, ever the embodiment of brute force and loyalty, charges towards the Bandit Captain with a determined fury. The orc's greatsword, an extension of his wrath, swings in a deadly arc towards the newly awakened bandit's protector. The Bandit Captain, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, barely has a chance to raise his weapon in defense. The greatsword connects with a sickening thud, biting deeply into his side. The bandit's cry of pain is cut short as he stumbles, the impact of the blow clearly taking its toll.

Meanwhile, the archer, seizing the chaos of the moment, nocks an arrow and lets it fly towards you. The arrow, swift and true, grazes your shoulder, a sharp pain flaring as it slices through the fabric of your cloak and skims your skin. The wound, though not deep, is a stark reminder you are no longer safe in your palace, that your life could be snuffed out any any point during this grand game.

With the urgency of the situation bearing down on you, you focus your energies, your chant for the Sleep spell more determined than before. You weave the magic with precision, targeting both the bandit captain, now grievously wounded by Gor'Thok's strike, and the archer, still a threat with his bow.

The spell's energy flows from you, a wave of somnolent power that envelops your foes. The captain, already weakened, succumbs almost instantly, his injured form collapsing to the ground in a heap, the fight drained from him by both blade and magic. The archer, caught mid-draw, slumps forward, the bow slipping from his fingers as he too falls into a deep, enchanted slumber once again.

The forest falls silent but for the heavy breathing of the combatants. Gor'Thok, looking around at the sudden calm, nods in approval at your effective use of magic. You, despite the graze on your shoulder, allow yourself a moment of satisfaction. The Sleep spell, cast with almost maximum potency, has turned the tide, leaving the remaining threats incapacitated and at your mercy. The confrontation, fraught with danger, has been quelled for now, through a combination of orcish valor and elven sorcery.

-----

In the aftermath of the spell's successful deployment, Gor'Thok wastes no time in immobilising your defeated foes. Moving with a purposeful stride, he retrieves a length of sturdy rope from his pack and with practiced efficiency, he binds the unconscious bandit captain, ensuring the knots are tight and secure, a testament to Gor'Thok's experience in handling captives as he then turns his attention to the archer, repeating the process. The archer, still lost in the depths of the magical slumber, offers no resistance as Gor'Thok secures him alongside his captain. Both foes are now rendered harmless, their weapons lying discarded on the forest floor, far from their reach while they lie naked save for their undergarments, tied to a large tree, escape impossible without outside help.

With the immediate threat neutralized, Gor'Thok stands, surveying his handiwork briefly before be then looks to you, a silent nod passing between two allies. It's a gesture of mutual understanding and respect, acknowledging the fact you held your own which, coming from an orc known for his fighting prowess, was a great compliment indeed. However, there's a restlessness in Gor'Thok's posture, an unspoken need that seems to pull at him.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

perception roll (DC 12) - 19 great success
HISTORY ROLL (DC 10) - 13 success

You think you have a pretty good idea what the issue might be however as, while Gor'Thok was working to secure the prisoners, you found it almost impossible to miss the incredibly impressive and extremely girthy outline of an intense erection silhouetted in the soft fabric of Gor'Thok's trousers. You also noticed the sidelong glances he gave you, or more accurately your back, when he didn't think you were looking. You knew he had tried to hide it as best he could, perhaps put of respect to your position, but it was undeniably there. Not a massive surprise to someone infatuated with orcs, like you, as it was a well known fact that most orcs had two great loves in life - fighting and fucking, and while not necessarily in that order, if one of those things was to happen, the other would undoubtedly follow.

Without a word, Gor'Thok turns away from the scene, his large frame moving with surprising grace through the underbrush. There's a wild look in his eyes, a mix of exhilaration from the battle and an insatiable thirst for another great pleasure brought on by the orcish blood running in his veins as he heads deeper into the forest to complete whatever task is claiming his attention.

Unless stopped, he strides off into the forest, leaving you alone with your prisoners, you're left with a moment of quiet to tend to your wound and reflect on the encounter. The graze on your shoulder stings, a minor injury but a reminder of the dangers that accompany your quest.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

A hiss fought its way from between Zasheir's fine lips at the sensation of steel making contact with his flesh. The indignation that came with the wound was worse than the pain though, as evidenced by his immediate worry that the injury might mar his otherwise flawless skin. He had taken every care for years to ensure it remained supple and perfect, smoother than the finest silks, and an exquisite pleasure to touch and be touched by. His revenge made itself known quickly, though, as his magic worked over the duo and saw them both felled before his mighty bodyguard. A fine thing for them, as it spared them the furious lashing out that he might have otherwise bestowed upon them. In place of slicing the archer's flesh asunder and breaking his slumber, his bodyguard was swift to see them captured while he tended to his own injury as best he could.

Not that it was particularly easy to focus on, of course. Not with Gro'thok's growing... problem.

Zasheir had known the company of orcs before, both man and woman, in and out of the bedchamber. He knew well that their hunger for the baser things. It was part of the reason he found himself so fond of them: few others could match his insatiable appetites beneath the fine silk sheets of the palace, and even fewer with such vigor. Something he was reminded of as he watched the fabric between his bodyguard's thighs swell and swell as adrenaline gave way to arousal. The prince could not help but bite his lip as he watched the monstrous length make itself known.

And yet the beast of a man who bore such a magnificent sex saw fit to deny his sovereign the delight it could provide. The little half-elf gave a brief look towards the captives, pondering just how well they might manage to escape in his absence, before turning and hurrying after the hulking orc. It was unlikely he could physically stop the wall of muscle that was his loyal janissary, but he could at least try!

"Wait, Gro'thok, wait!" Zasheir called, reaching out to grasp at the warrior's huge hand with his own such that he might beckon him to stop. Were he so lucky, there was little ceremony to his approach beyond that, the svelte sorcerer winding his way into Gro'thok personal space such that he could press against him. Delicate hands came up to trace their way across the broadness of his chest, stroking the muscles beneath affectionately as the bastard royal gazed up at his savior.

"You do not need to hide it from me. I know what you need..."

The words that poured from his lips were soft and demure, but full of smoky innuendo, especially when he continued through lidded eyes not in the Common tongue, but in prettily accented Orcish, his sweet, feminine voice contrasting against the harsh, guttural tongue of his preferred bedmates.

"Let me soothe you, my champion."

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Suppose this constitutes an Indirect advance, although Gro'thok would also need to roll against his Aura of Sin to avoid hyperarousal and therefore, disadvantage on the resist