Darian swiftly shifts his focus, sheathing his handaxe and moving his Hunter’s Mark to DD Blue. With practiced ease, he draws another arrow, pulling the string of his longbow taut. His eyes briefly flicker to the princess, offering her a reassuring nod before he releases the arrow. The bowstring twangs again, sending the arrow streaking toward the marked death dog.

Attack: 18 Damage: 6

Ne'haredowell freezes as soon as Bran's scythe swipes through the Death Dog's side. Instead of seeing blood, he sees a vortex. It causes him to stare. His slow beating heart starts to rapidly pick up the rate. Then the creature is gone and so is Nare's cool.

He could hardly keep up with what the kobolds are saying, he feels nearly surrounded despite them being now allies. On all sides of him: teeth. He was so used to being the shadow now he's in the spotlight. A very hot, sticky spotlight. 

Steadying himself to cast Chill Touch, he aims his spectral hand to go over to Death Dog Green. "Into the night," he whispers, the only words coming to mind right now. 

((Attack with Chill Touch with disadvantage?: (first roll: 8 + 4 = 12; second roll: 2 + 4 = 6). Damage: 5 necrotic))

((Wait since Nare failed the Constitution save with the dog's that means he's poisoned right? so does it go for disadvantage? if not then cool))

Arvos once more summons fire in the palm of his outstretched hand and hurls the flame at the nearest death dog.

produce flame

Attack: 21 Damage: 5

End of turn. 

With a *thuck, thuck* Bran and Darian's arrows bury themselves into Death Dog Blue's side.

Meanwhile, Nare's spectral hand claws at Dead Dog Green's fur, searing and wilting it with its vicious necrotic energy.

Arvos's fearsome immolation swirls around Death Dog Blue's writhing form as it wails in fear and agony!

Death Dog Blue is Bloodied.

Terrified to the point of madness, Death Dog Green thrashes against its restraints until at last, the beast wrests itself free of its living cage! Yelping all the way, it turns tail and runs into the night.

Death Dog Blue is not so lucky, and continues to struggle in vain at the twisted roots, interrupting its work onto to lap at the burns and blood on its melted fur.

Albert is up.

Albert walks 4 squares down, 1 left, so the beast is well lit.

"Now it would be a good time to leave you FILTH!" Albert yells and puts extreme emphasis on the last word.

Albert keeps swinging his staff in wide arches to distract the beast. (Help action)

Tail tucked between its legs and whimpering, Death Dog Blue cowers from Albert and tugs helplessly against the vines.

Garith, Nikos, and Sion bring the mules closer to stay near the nearest light source, but keep their distance from the remaining Death Dog. "It's still stuck. How long will it remain trapped like that? Are we safe? Should we kill it?" They ask, talking over each other with nervous apprehension.

The kobolds look to their princess, who in turn looks to the Golden Company. Princess Harkail nods respectfully. "The kill is rightfully yours. But we claim that one," she points at the corpse of Death Dog Black, "as our prize."

You're now out of initiative. As long as Blue remains alive and restrained, it will periodically struggled with the vines until it either successfully breaks free or the spell runs out.

Albert looks at the Kobolds: "You can have... that one. I just want to look at its mouth first"

DC15 Nature check, to harvest its saliva (https://www.thievesguild.cc/harvest/creature.php?id=416#tab1) Rolled 14 + 2 from guidance = 16

After that he looks at Nare and Bran: "Oh my, they really did a number on you two. Do you need some healing? I still have some energy left"

"The entangling vines only last a minute so if anyone wants that death dog dead do so night now otherwise the vines will soon wither" says Arvos. 

Bran reacts upon impulse, reaching the space where the Blue Dog is just barely still entangled, his scythe raised ready to land the killing blow! 

Tension can be seen on Brans face,

Bran attacks Blue Dog with Scythe | 8 | Damage: 15

OOC: Looks like Alberts intended actions will hapen after what is going on with Bran and Death dog Blue. So my previous post should happen AFTER Brans stuff is resolved.

As Albert was right nearby death dog and now Bran, he will swing his staff to protect the dog and yell: "STOP! No more blood!"

While doing that, Albert clutches his Mishakal broche and mentally calls upon her, to intervene. (15 religion)

Nare's eyes watch silently as the Death Dog Green runs away tail between its legs. He loosens his grip on his torch but turns it over to see the face of the kobolds in the night. "Sounds good."

He blinks over at Albert, "Oh?" Feeling his side for where the wound was, his paw meets now dried blood. Perks of being half-dead! "Oh right, um, yeah, no I'm okay." He stares at his own hand for a second then over at the priest. "Thank- thank you though."

"BRAN?!"

"WAIT!" he cries alongside Albert. He audibly gasps and reaches into his bag. He unwraps and tosses one of his rations over at the Death Dog, using the rations that specifically had jerky. Then in another second whips out one more. "Here... come on, boy. Come on." Slowly he begins to walk toward the one still restrained, putting the hand with the other piece of jerky out in front and holding the torch in the other. "Know you want it."

((Animal Handling: 16 + 2 = 18 yessss))

Darian's breath is steady, his fingers firm against the bowstring. The tension in the air mirrors the tension in his muscles, every fiber of his being focused on the death dog in his sights. His eyes narrow, staring down the length of the arrow, ready to release—

“WAIT!”

The command cuts through the chaos, and Darian freezes. His heart skips a beat, but his grip on the bow does not falter. He holds his breath, keeping the bowstring taut, the arrow still aimed directly at the snarling creature. His gaze darts toward the source of the voice, but he doesn’t move.

(Ready Action to fire if DD acts aggressively)

Attack: 18 Damage: 11

(Hit: 18, Damage: 13 in the log)

The scythe flies true and rips into the entangled Death Dog. Like the one before, it howls in fear and agony before imploding inward... vanishing from site. The scythe glows and throbs an eerie red... as if savoring the kill. The red pulsing light highlights Bran's features, underlighting them in a chilling hue.

Albert successfully harvests the saliva from the dead dog before the kobolds descend upon it, tearing it to pieces with specialized hunting knives until little remains except a blood stand and a few bits of hair and flesh.

You each get 1200 XP

Albert stands with an outstretched hand, that is visibly shaking. He lowers it and mutters: "Oh Bran..."

He then does the extraction of saliva and goes to rest afterwards.

In the morning he will go to Bran for a talk.

Ne'haredowell's call comes too little too late. He drops his beef jerky on the ground when Bran slices through the dog, the death dog now meeting its own end. His teeth chatter at the sight of the scythe's glow. He would not want to be on the wrong end of that one. He lowers his torch down and sits on a nearby rock to watch the kobolds go digging in. "Well then." He puts his furry paw to his chin to relax and just closes his eyes. 

Arvos stops concentrating on the vines and they soon wither away. Gald the death dogs have been dealt with he heads back to his tattered bedroll and heads back to sleep. 

Darian slowly releases the taught bowstring and returns the arrow to its quiver before returning to his bedroll.

The rest of the night passes uneventfully. But Princess Harkail is fussy for most of it. Agitated and embarrassed for sleeping through most of the fight, she stays up and focuses on the new ingredients her servants have harvested from the Death Dogs. Livers, genitals, teeth, hearts... anything that can be used in magical components were placed in a magical satchel to keep them fresh. The rest of the parts were devoured cooked or raw depending on how hungry the kobolds were.

As the new day dawns, the guards are more subdued with shame and keeping their heads low to avoid the wrath of their irritable princess. They gather the supplies quickly and quietly as she fumes about the campsite.

"Wake up! Wake UP! We've much land to cover and I don't think that was the last pack of beasts we'll meet on this road if we dilly dally." She looks at what's left of a rib bone of the death dog they devoured and muttered to themselves. "Hardly any meat on their bones. The famine will leave the predators ravenous."

It's still a bit chilly, but the campfire that burned for the rest of the night provides a warm respite. The kobold commoners have taught Bran's valets how to make a pungent brew common amongst the kobold kind that is similar to coffee. It's bitter and has an oddly smokey flavor to it, but it fights off the chill and certainly gets the blood moving. They explain that it's designed to keep the kobolds from hibernating when it gets too cold... a beverage that they were already chided for not making for the guard's watch last night.

Bran has a bit on his mind, but the rest does him good. To the sound of "Wake up! Wake UP! We've much land to cover and I don't think that was the last pack of beasts we'll meet on this road if we dilly dally." Bran rouses he's retainers to get the wagons ready to move out. But he slows things down deliberately only to see what the rest of the Golden Company is doing.