" Ok, its not here. We should go then...", Kimberley nodded vigourously.

Then you hear the scratching sounds of claws upon masonry from above, cutting through the eerie silence. Bits of crumbled stone fall, some of it pelting Bryony where she stands near the base of the tower (not enough to do damage.)

From her position farthest from the tower, Kimberley sees it first – a dark-green reptilian head on a long, serpentine neck. A dragon, perched at the edge of the tower. Its presence sends chills down your spines.

"Guests," it announces, flatly, in a high, smooth voice. "Who? Who disturbs my rest? Speak quickly, lest my patience runs thin. Do any of you have something to say before you die?" Its posture is relaxed, calm, even as it grips the edge of the tower roof. You cannot see the lower part of its body.

The dragons voice sweeps an acrid chill through him. ”Go on Favric, show the box.” Syzygy says as he takes a knee in reverence. 

Jurgen and Draco also take a knee. 

Kimberley is frozen in abject terror but manages to force herself down onto her knees.

Taking the cue from Syzygy, Jurgen, Draco, and Kimberley, the terrified cultists get down on their knees as well.

But not Favric. "Right, right, the box," he says to himself out loud, absentmindedly. Shaken out of his brief nervous paralysis, Favric continues standing and produces the box, opening it to reveal six lustrous amethysts, worth a few hundred gold to your eye.

"It is but a modest gift," begins Favric, his voice cracking, holding the box above him with both hands. "But we also bring the humble tidings and allegiance of the Cult of the Dragon. We seek only your acquaintance."

"I see six lovely jewels. But I count twelve of you. Are your lives not worth but half a gem each?" replies the dragon from above, eyeing everyone closely. Its voice is smooth, silky, and much higher pitched than you would have guessed.

Bryony jerks in surprise as pieces of masonry fall on her. Then she glances up and sees the face of a green dragon! Her eyes widen in amazement...and a moment later fear. It's bigger than she thought it would be. She kneels down a bit belatedly, but she doesn't have as far to go as the taller folk. Does she dare speak to the dragon? It feels like there are butterflies loose inside her belly, but Bryony figures they are only a few moments away from being the dragon's lunch so she should do something.

"My Lord, greatest of Green Dragons," she intones. "We beg your forgiveness. We are but humble ants in your magnificent presence. What we lack in precious gems, we make up for in cunning and courage."

Her mouth is starting to go dry, but Bryony continues, trying not to let her voice waver. "Speak the name of your enemy, and we will slay it for you! Let us perform any tasks that are rightly beneath you, Lord."

Performance - 10

Quinn does not tremble in fear. He stands in awe and in amazement. He’s encountered a few rangers who have taken on drakes as companions, but those creatures pale in comparison to this massive creature that stands before them. 

As Bryony attempts to bargain with the dragon, Quinn reaches into his belt pouch and reaches for Mirna’s emerald jewelry. He bows his head and holds the emerald up high as an offering to the dragon. 

"Shhh!" hushes Favric to Bryony, annoyed at her less-than-convincing speech.

"I'm so sorry, your highness dragon sir ma'am," continues Favric, nervously stumbling over his words, shooting Bryony an angry look. "We apologize. These strangers are not with us. They are part of our tribute to you. They are yours to slay or make vassals of – chattel, thralls, or perhaps to break your fast upon."

The dragon's eyes turn to the golden necklace in Quinn's outstretched hand, then turns back to Favric. "Six jewels, one necklace, and six chattels in exchange for six lives. Is that what you offer?" the dragon asks, cooly and calmly.

Kimberley takes to news that they are being given as gifts to the dragon and likely about to die as well as can be expected given her already fragile mental state  at seeing the terrible thing.

She panics and blasts Favric with a bolt of scintillating moonlight.

Guiding Bolt- Attack: 9 Damage: 18

A flash of white light narrowly misses Favric's head, searing off part of his mask.

Favric turns purple with rage. "What are you doing??" he squeals. The dragon watches from above, perfectly calm, a hint of a smile upon its oversized reptilian face.

Syzygy, still on his knees, winces at the miss. And annoyed with the expected betrayal, takes a pinch of sand from a sleeve pouch and whispers a gentle word as he roles the grain between his thumbs.

casting sleep aiming around falvric alone: 21 HP

(If it’s enough) Syzygy rises to his knees and retrieves the box, glaring at the rest of the cultist. /He then turns toward the dragon.

“Such simple minded betrayals are beneath you, oh mighty serpent. They were always our sacrifice. Clearly weak, easily subdued, of little use except to lead us to you. Our admiration, and our strength is superior to these children playing dragon dress ups.”

He gestures to the Dragons. Syzygy doesn’t want to feed them to the beast but he does what he does to survive.

“We come to serve, to elevate your status throughout the lands. Perhaps lead you to new castles to conquer.”

persuasion: 6

Bryony nods along with Syzygy's speech. She will attempt to Help persuade the dragon not to eat them.

"Please, Lord Dragon," she says. "We've seen your mighty work in slaying these spiders. We also seek a Spider. Do you know of one who calls himself the Spider? We could hunt him down and slay him in your name and bring you his head as tribute!"

Persuasion - 6

(Wow...we are so going to be dragon chow, haha.)

"My lord," begins Favric apologetically, the veins popping on his temples, "these..."

And then he crumples, fast asleep, the jewels rattling out of their wooden box onto the dirt.

Syzygy collects them, and makes his less-than-convincing speech while the other cultists gawk. 

"I see," ponders the dragon, a hint of condescending sarcasm in its smooth tones. "Then you will obey when I ask you to execute these 'dragon cultists,'" it says to Syzygy. "That is my command. Kill the masked ones. Right now."

Horrified and panic-stricken, the cultists look at the party and each other, and then at their sleeping leader.

"I am uninterested in your blather," replies the dragon to Bryony. "You are delaying. Kill the masked ones."

Kimberley grimaced, " Moments ago they tried to kill us."

She called down a beam of moonlight upon the furthest cultist.

( Moonbeam DC 13 Con Save or 15 radiant.)

Jurgen sighs thinking, I guess we are doing this. But yes, they did just try to sacrifice/kill us.

He quickly casts Green Flame Blade on his Long Sword and then attack the nearest ones, catching it by surprise (NAT 20 to hit), doing 13pts of damage to it and 5 points to the one next to it.  

He then directs Draco to attack the next one (16 to hit and 4 damage)

A silvery beam of pale light shines down upon the far cultist (#2). It glows with a shimmering light. The surprised woman gasps with alarm. DC 13 Con Save: 15

Jurgen springs on a nearby cultist (#4), slaying him with his green-flaming sword. The arcane flames jump to a nearby cultist (#3), searing her with emerald fire. Draco takes a chunk out of another man (#5).

The surviving cultists flee, crashing through the dry underbrush to the west (Dash). One (#2, seriously burned by arcane moonlight) tries to hide in the bushes. Hide:7

The dragon smiles, enjoying the spectacle.

Then with a single flap of massive green wings, the dragon alights. Unable to resist the call of a hunt, it plucks the hiding burned cultist from the shrubs and tears her apart.

Bite Attack vs. Cultist #4: 24. Hit: 16 piercing damage plus 11 poison damage.
Claw Attack: 16. Hit: 8 slashing damage.
Claw Attack: 13. Hit:10 slashing damage.

Everyone may act.