That sounds awesome. I suppose we don't know what's in there, might just be more goblins, could be overkill. Could be another owlbear. Could be the Dwarf we came for tied to a chair with a speaker set up to goad us into fireballing him blind. Maybe don't listen to me :) I'm too paranoid and cautious
"This room has several occupants, all I can hear is fair breathing and stirring..."The half-elf ponders for a moment before continuing in silent speech. "Ready ourselves, open the door, survey, and blast if need be?"
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Kelvin Winterbreath, level 1 variant human sorcerer (dragon bloodline) ●Incantis, half-elf warlock (great old one) 2/bard 1
Strix, in an effort to preserve some element of surprise, stands to one side of the door frame, casts an illusion of a kneeling Glasstaff in front of the doorway and then throws it open.
I feel my usual pondering and conspiracy spinning has slowed our gait so I'm trying to undo that damage through new damage. But it doesn't say what the rest of you are doing. Take your ideal places and let's kick some ass!
Dekhan stands before the door; Strix to the side, as he casts his illusion of a statue of Glasstaff, apparently kneeling on the floor. Then he pushes the door open with force.
Dekhan, the chamber beyond is a living space; there are furs thrown onto the floor to serve as carpet, and old trophies decorate the walls - heads of animals, monstrous beasts, and one or two humans and elves. There is furniture here and there; a large brazier, a table and chairs - from this angle, you don't see the whole room though, and will need to step inside, or at least poke your head through the door, to do so.
Directly in front of Dekhan is a large chair, and on it sits a bugbear, larger and stronger-looking that Klarg, the bugbear leader you defeated as your adventure began. Also older, much older, though he seems strong still. He sits grinning at you, one hand resting on the chair's arm, another raised to beckon you. At last, the travellers seek an audience with their King. Come in.
In front of the bugbear, on the fur rug, lies a wolf, its eyes fixed upon Dekhan. To either side, a hobgoblin with longsword at its hip, a hand resting on the hilt of the sword, a cold expression on their faces. To the side stands a dark-skinned elf woman, instantly recognisable as a drow. She has a very unfriendly expression on her face, and though her eyes never leave Dekhan's, she speaks, apparently to the bugbear. What is the point of these games, my King?
Come now, Vyerith, the bugbear replies, the niceties of court must be observed, do you not think? He frowns at the illusion of Glasstaff: Perception3This fellow certainly thinks so.