Eldrin stands at a cautious distance, the chaotic storm of battle swirling around him, the crack of Gareth's bowstring, the whirring hiss of Meira's bolt, Lyra’s cry as blood paints the snow, stark against the white. But it’s the dragon that holds his gaze, the way its wings unfurl with dreadful grace, the shimmer of ancient scales catching the dim light, and the thunderous pulse of its breath rumbling through the earth beneath his feet.
He inhales sharply. This is not myth… This is real. And it is terrifying.
Eldrin quickly begins to back away, heeding Meria's advice.
Clenching his jaw, Eldrin forces himself to focus, not to give in to awe, but to act with purpose. The beast is here. There is no more room for hesitation.
He extends his hand. Arcane energy crackles across his palm as he conjures force from thought, pure, unerring will given shape.
"Vel’ir’cariin.”
With the final syllable, four streaks of bluish-white light erupt from his outstretched fingers, spiraling in elegant arcs before darting toward the dragon. The arcane projectiles strike true, slamming one after another into the creature’s flank and shoulder in sharp, rhythmic bursts of energy.
Eldrin lowers his hand slowly, eyes never leaving the creature. Watching, preparing himself for what comes next.
Movement: 30 feet away from, the dragon on a diagonal , should be 20 feet to the right of Meria Action: Cast Magic Missile (upcast) Damage: 13 Force damage
You turn and run at the dragon. Your first trident thrust hits the dragon's thick armored scale, failing to penetrate it. This enrages you further and allows you to spot a gap in the dragon's scales. You aim a second attack there, and your pronged weapon sinks deep into the dragon's left rear leg.
Eldrin,
You cast magic missile. Four motes of energy strike the dragon, causing it to shreik in pain from the combined assault from Zephyros and Eldrin.
Gareth marks the dragon as his prey, slowing his breathing until his mind is clear and focused. All that matters now is survival. He doesn't kid himself that they are strong enough to fell this mighty beast, but maybe they can at least hurt it enough to make it think twice about eating them. The ranger releases another arrow, hoping to watch it sink deep into the dragon's hide.
Action: Longbow - Nat 20! 17 piercing damage + 1 damage from Hunter's Mark
There was that one time when she'd been sprinting through the temple's corridors, trying to sneak out of the next class — probably the one about Lycanthropy — when she slipped on Tymora-knows-what and tumbled down the stairs. A sprained ankle and a handful of bruises. That had been the worst pain she'd ever known.
But this? This was something else entirely.
With the dragon's attention fixed on her friends' attacks, Lyra seizes the moment to limp away from it, a trail of blood marking each step and staining the snow red. Her remaining duplicate, oblivious to the cleric's pain, follows after her.
Once she's safely away, the halfling clutches her chest with a trembling hand and whispers a prayer, pleading for even a moment of relief. She wants to help her friends — and she will — but right now, all she can do is try to ease the pain.
Meira had watched as the dragon had moved over to start to attack the mirror images of Lyra. Each blow striking an illusory copy of the halfling brought a tiny moment of relief. But just as she thought maybe Lyra's plan had worked to perfection, she saw the dragon claw draw blood. Her heart sank as she saw the heavy blow.
Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. She knew the best thing would be for everyone to keep working at fending off this creature. This time she drew her arrow and took careful aim before she fired again at the white dragon. (Bonus Action: Steady Aim)
You focus your mind on the dragon and mark it as your prey. Taking time to aim proves difficult for you at melee range. [[OOC: I would hate for you to lose that crit, but please roll your attack with disadvantage unless you want to switch to a different weapon.]]
Lyra,
You disengage and move away from the dragon. You pray for healing and feel the powerful divine energy begin to knit your wound back together. You feel much better.
Meira,
You slow your breath, and your heart rate begins to calm. You raise your bow to your face and loose an arrow perfectly aimed between the plates on the dragon's neck. It sinks deep into the hide. The dragon whips its head around to survey the battlefield.
[[OOC: Will post the dragon's action this evening.]]
The dragon reels after the combined assault from the adventuring party. It looks around for a moment before hastily saying, "I'm not that hungry after all." It's giant wings unfurl and with two great flaps it lifts off, flying off to the east. Beating it's wings faster and faster as it gains speed. Blood runs down it's left leg and neck.
Action: Disengage
Movement: 20 feet up and 60 feet east.
Combat ends, though you can still take pot shots off at the dragon as it flies away for the next two turns at a dashing speed of 160 feet per turn.
Unsure what the dragon might do as it appears to fly away, Meirakeeps herself steady firing off another shot. (Shortbow Attack: 22, Damage: 7 piercing + 10 from sneak attack)
As the white dragon continues to fly swiftly away, she stands and sprints over to Lyra. "Are you alright?" For a moment, she isn't even thinking right, only seeing the stains of blood that remain. "Oh no, that looks so bad! We've got to get you help!" She looks to Gareth. "You can help her right? She's going to be ok?"
Eldrin remained still, his cloak fluttering faintly in the wake of the dragon’s departure. He watched the pale silhouette shrink against the vastness of the eastern sky, eyes narrowed, not with fear, but in thought.
There was a method in the creature’s retreat… and something else.
He spoke at last, voice soft , “I don't think that was hunger.”
His gaze lingering on the claw marks carved deep into the frost-cracked stone.
“It came to weigh us. To taste the measure of our strength.”
His tone switching to the clarity of an academic in the midst of a hypothesis, , “Each strike we dealt… every step we held our ground… it was watching. Studying, to determine if we were a worthy threat, or as they but it....just breakfast"
He turns slowly toward the others, a faint line creases Eldrin’s brow.
“It has what it came for,”he murmurs. “Answers. And now… we are part of its calculus.”
From the folds of his coat, he produced a small glass vial, faintly glowing, which he offers to Lyra.
“For now, rest. When it returns, it will not come as a curious observer.”
His eyes drifted once more to the horizon, silver irises reflecting the fading light.
Instead of taking another shot at the dragon, Gareth puts his bow away and kneels down next to Lyra. He's about to offer her a healing potion, but Eldrin is there first. The combination of her own divine magic and the potion should be enough to knit her wounds back together he thinks.
"How are you doing, Lyra?" he asks. "It got a pretty good chomp out of you. Missing any bits?" He smiles, trying to keep his tone light-hearted. "But that was an impressive spell you cast. You fooled a dragon!"
Lyrafeels the tension ease as the dragon decides to simply fly away. And at that precise moment, her legs decide they no longer want to support her. She drops rather unceremoniously to the ground, clutching the ragged front of her tunic in a mix of pain and shame, but also feels a bit relieved as her friends gather around. "I… I'm okay. I was lucky to heal the worst of it," she replies to Meira. The cleric tries to smile at her, but it's obvious that she's still rattled, and the expression lacks its usual spark.
When Eldrinremarks that the dragon wanted a taste of her strength, she drops her gaze to her boots, the shame in her chest deepening. I did nothing. What strength could that dragon have sensed in me? None at all! Then she looks up, startled, when the elf offers her a potion. She's about to refuse but ... that would be rude, wouldn't it? And besides, they still have traveling to do. Best to be at full strength, right? So, even though guilt prickles at her, she accepts it with a muttered, "Thank you, Eldrin."
Amazing! Rolled max healing with Lyra's spell, and also with the potion! Four fours, as Davy Jones would say.
Uncorking the vial, Lyra takes a slow sip. She'd never tried a healing potion before, and is surprised by the pleasant taste. "Is it just me, or does it taste like cherry?" she says, glancing at her companions, trying to sound casual—playful, even. But her trembling voice betrays the truth beneath.
The halfling feels steadier as the magic takes hold, and she rises to her feet, but still holds the torn fabric."…Blast it,"she mutters under her breath."Where was I when they were teaching how to mend things?" But Garethshakes her out of that thouoght when he praises the mirroring spell, "Oh? The mirroring spell? I guess I've taken a liking to seeing duplicates of me!"
Lyra smiles again—this time, a little less trembling and a little more steady. She looks at her friends with genuine gratitude in her eyes, then says, "I… guess we should keep moving?"
Even with the dragon incredibly close, you sink an arrow into its neck as it attacks Lyra.
Meira,
Your last shot hits the dragon, embedding into its tail as it flies away. It snarls in pain, but makes no move to reengage the group.
Adventurers,
You continue your journey to Butterskull Ranch. The snow has stopped, but the wind from the east has picked up and is biting cold. Several hours after the dragon attack pass before you arrive at an abandoned settlement. The place is eerily silent except for the whistling of the wind as it blows through the settlement’s burned and crumbled-down structures. You all spot three horses grazing near the abandoned town's well.
Anyone interested can give me a perception roll, and anyone wishing to approach the horses can give me an animal handling check.
Eldrin's gaze lingers on the three horses, their breath misting faintly in the cold air, ears flicking at the sound of the wind. They look healthy enough, though their presence here is… curious.
His eyes sweep the ruins, the way he might scan the margins of an ancient manuscript, searching for what is written between the lines. The brittle crunch of snow beneath his companions’ feet feels loud against the whispering wind.
He pauses, his silver eyes narrowing as he studies the settlement’s edges, watching for faint movements, subtle tracks, or shadows that might reveal who—or what—still lingers here.
When Lyra had mentioned the possibly cherry flavor of the potion, Meira chuckled slightly. "Just one little scratch from a dragon and you get all the fancy treats!" A big smile comes to her face though as she is clearly relieved to see the halfling is ok.
As the group resumes their travel, Meira keeps close to Lyra and continues chatting with her. Mostly just little comments: "Gareth was right, that spell was pretty clever against that dragon."; "I wonder if we should be more cautious when we travel. Keep to cover more? Do you suppose it flies about at night?"; "I suppose it is nice having multiples of you, but I'm happy just to have the one Lyra here."; "It is kind of amazing we scared off a dragon! It was such amazing being!"; "Do you suppose that wound will leave a scar?"; "This group really seems to work well together."; "You are sure you're ok, Lyra? I could carry some of your gear if you need me to."
Some comments, especially the last about checking that Lyra is ok, are repeated a number of times. There's a bit of nervous energy to Meira and she's far more talkative than usual. (Not that she usually silent!)
Arriving at the abandoned settlement, Meira looks around for any signs of activity. (Perception: 11) She leaves the horses for others more familiar with animals.
Making their way to Butterskull Ranch, Lyrais able to put the encounter with the dragon behind her—more and more as Meirakeeps talking to her. When asked if she'll get a scar, Lyra glances briefly beneath her clothes and, to her relief, sees none. "Not that I have any trouble with scars. Some scars look pretty cool on people. But perhaps not on me!" she replies. She's almost not finished with that sentence when the Meira asks for the third time if she's okay, then adds that she's happy to have one Lyra, despite the usefulness of her duplicates. At this, Lyra blushes slightly and quickly ensures that she's really fine! The cleric wonders if Meira is asking so much because she's worried after the fight. But that can't be, can it? She's always so cool and composed!
In any case, Lyra has almost forgotten about the dragon. But maybe not enough to overlook that Zephyrosis silent. Too silent. In fact, he woke up that way already. She isn't sure what's going through the fighter's mind, but something tells her he's not quite fine. By now, the halfling knows better than to push him with questions, but she walks next to him for a while, simply standing there and offering him a warm smile—just in case it makes him feel a little better.
Once they reach the ranch, Lyra is quickly drawn to the horses. But even though she's mostly forgotten about the dragon attack, she remains wary—more than usual. So she doesn't approach the horses right away, waiting until some of her friends do. When they do, she walks with them, softly speaking to the horses, hoping to calm them a little. "Hello, uhm ... equine friends. We mean no harm, okay?" she murmurs gently. (ooc: Can she give help to assist anyone checking on the horses? Lyra doesn’t have proficiency in Animal Handling, so probably not. But she can at least offer Guidance to whoever companion wishes to use it.)
(Gareth will use Lyra's Guidance when checking on the horses.)
Gareth frowns at the sight of the ruined ranch and the three horses cropping contentedly at the grass near the well. It's such a strange juxtaposition that it almost feels surreal. Did these horses belong to the ranch and if so, why weren't they harmed? Or did these horses belong to the attackers? That meant the attackers could still be in the area. The ranger approaches the animals cautiously, slowly extending a hand toward one of the horses and rubbing its neck if it will allow it.
"Easy there," he murmurs. "We're friends. Don't suppose you could tell us what happened here?"
You move into the abandoned town of Conyberry and approach the horses near the old well. Eldrin, Meira, and Lyra all notice each of the horses have been branded with the letters BAK on their right hind quarter. The horses begin to spook as the armored warrior, Zephyros approaches, but are quickly calmed by Gareth's reassuring presence. Each of the three horses are bridled but not saddled. It's clear they are domesticated. The sun is beginning to set and the last light of the day wanes. Aside from the neighing horses, all seems quiet in this ghost town. What would you like to do?
Zephyros,
Felagi takes flight and lets you know he spots a cow wearing a bell tied around its neck a few hundred feet away, just outside of town. The red tailed hawk also mentions seeing the letters BAK branded on the cow's right rear haunch.
"BAK," Lyra whispers. "That must be for 'Big Al' Kalazorn — the retired sheriff in charge of Butterskull Ranch mentioned on the job board." She pauses. "Should we spend the night here in Conyberry? There's still a long way until Butterskull Ranch, and I guess it is better to travel during the day, right? And remember that temple south of here? Are we going to investigate that? Perhaps on our way back from the Ranch?"
Lyra scans the buildings ahead. Are they all destroyed? Is there not a single structure left standing where they could spend the night?
Out of curiosity, she also checks for tracks near the horses—just in case someone had ridden here and then ventured into the ghost town. (ooc: Rolled an extremely low Investigation check, 5)
Looking around Conyberry, you spot several structures still standing. One such structure looks like it might have been the towns tavern. It's overgrown with vines and has its windows smashed out. Several more look to have burned to the ground or partially burned.
Looking at the ground near the horses, you see many hoof prints from the horses, but not much else.
Eldrin stands at a cautious distance, the chaotic storm of battle swirling around him, the crack of Gareth's bowstring, the whirring hiss of Meira's bolt, Lyra’s cry as blood paints the snow, stark against the white. But it’s the dragon that holds his gaze, the way its wings unfurl with dreadful grace, the shimmer of ancient scales catching the dim light, and the thunderous pulse of its breath rumbling through the earth beneath his feet.
He inhales sharply. This is not myth… This is real. And it is terrifying.
Eldrin quickly begins to back away, heeding Meria's advice.
Clenching his jaw, Eldrin forces himself to focus, not to give in to awe, but to act with purpose. The beast is here. There is no more room for hesitation.
He extends his hand. Arcane energy crackles across his palm as he conjures force from thought, pure, unerring will given shape.
"Vel’ir’cariin.”
With the final syllable, four streaks of bluish-white light erupt from his outstretched fingers, spiraling in elegant arcs before darting toward the dragon. The arcane projectiles strike true, slamming one after another into the creature’s flank and shoulder in sharp, rhythmic bursts of energy.
Eldrin lowers his hand slowly, eyes never leaving the creature. Watching, preparing himself for what comes next.
Movement: 30 feet away from, the dragon on a diagonal , should be 20 feet to the right of Meria
Action: Cast Magic Missile (upcast)
Damage: 13 Force damage
Zephyros,
You turn and run at the dragon. Your first trident thrust hits the dragon's thick armored scale, failing to penetrate it. This enrages you further and allows you to spot a gap in the dragon's scales. You aim a second attack there, and your pronged weapon sinks deep into the dragon's left rear leg.
Eldrin,
You cast magic missile. Four motes of energy strike the dragon, causing it to shreik in pain from the combined assault from Zephyros and Eldrin.
Combat continues in round two:
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Gareth marks the dragon as his prey, slowing his breathing until his mind is clear and focused. All that matters now is survival. He doesn't kid himself that they are strong enough to fell this mighty beast, but maybe they can at least hurt it enough to make it think twice about eating them. The ranger releases another arrow, hoping to watch it sink deep into the dragon's hide.
Action: Longbow - Nat 20! 17 piercing damage + 1 damage from Hunter's Mark
Bonus: Hunter's Mark
Extended Signature
Characters: Bryony Alderleaf (Phandelver and Below) ♦ Vesta Trevelyan (Vecna: Eve of Ruin) ♦ Ada Kendrick (Curse of Strahd) ♦ Gareth Blackwood (Dragon of Icespire Peak) ♦ Karys Velthune (Out of the Abyss) ♦ Surina Xarith (Simple, Heroic Adventure)
DM: Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus
Lyra had never felt pain like this before.
There was that one time when she'd been sprinting through the temple's corridors, trying to sneak out of the next class — probably the one about Lycanthropy — when she slipped on Tymora-knows-what and tumbled down the stairs. A sprained ankle and a handful of bruises. That had been the worst pain she'd ever known.
But this? This was something else entirely.
With the dragon's attention fixed on her friends' attacks, Lyra seizes the moment to limp away from it, a trail of blood marking each step and staining the snow red. Her remaining duplicate, oblivious to the cleric's pain, follows after her.
Once she's safely away, the halfling clutches her chest with a trembling hand and whispers a prayer, pleading for even a moment of relief. She wants to help her friends — and she will — but right now, all she can do is try to ease the pain.
Action: Disengage
Movement: 25 feet east
Bonus Action: Healing Word on herself. 11 HP
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Meira had watched as the dragon had moved over to start to attack the mirror images of Lyra. Each blow striking an illusory copy of the halfling brought a tiny moment of relief. But just as she thought maybe Lyra's plan had worked to perfection, she saw the dragon claw draw blood. Her heart sank as she saw the heavy blow.
Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. She knew the best thing would be for everyone to keep working at fending off this creature. This time she drew her arrow and took careful aim before she fired again at the white dragon. (Bonus Action: Steady Aim)
(Shortbow Attack: 20, Damage: 9 piercing + 4 from sneak attack)
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Gareth,
You focus your mind on the dragon and mark it as your prey. Taking time to aim proves difficult for you at melee range. [[OOC: I would hate for you to lose that crit, but please roll your attack with disadvantage unless you want to switch to a different weapon.]]
Lyra,
You disengage and move away from the dragon. You pray for healing and feel the powerful divine energy begin to knit your wound back together. You feel much better.
Meira,
You slow your breath, and your heart rate begins to calm. You raise your bow to your face and loose an arrow perfectly aimed between the plates on the dragon's neck. It sinks deep into the hide. The dragon whips its head around to survey the battlefield.
[[OOC: Will post the dragon's action this evening.]]
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
The dragon reels after the combined assault from the adventuring party. It looks around for a moment before hastily saying, "I'm not that hungry after all." It's giant wings unfurl and with two great flaps it lifts off, flying off to the east. Beating it's wings faster and faster as it gains speed. Blood runs down it's left leg and neck.
Action: Disengage
Movement: 20 feet up and 60 feet east.
Combat ends, though you can still take pot shots off at the dragon as it flies away for the next two turns at a dashing speed of 160 feet per turn.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Unsure what the dragon might do as it appears to fly away, Meira keeps herself steady firing off another shot.
(Shortbow Attack: 22, Damage: 7 piercing + 10 from sneak attack)
As the white dragon continues to fly swiftly away, she stands and sprints over to Lyra. "Are you alright?" For a moment, she isn't even thinking right, only seeing the stains of blood that remain. "Oh no, that looks so bad! We've got to get you help!" She looks to Gareth. "You can help her right? She's going to be ok?"
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Eldrin remained still, his cloak fluttering faintly in the wake of the dragon’s departure. He watched the pale silhouette shrink against the vastness of the eastern sky, eyes narrowed, not with fear, but in thought.
There was a method in the creature’s retreat… and something else.
He spoke at last, voice soft , “I don't think that was hunger.”
His gaze lingering on the claw marks carved deep into the frost-cracked stone.
“It came to weigh us. To taste the measure of our strength.”
His tone switching to the clarity of an academic in the midst of a hypothesis, , “Each strike we dealt… every step we held our ground… it was watching. Studying, to determine if we were a worthy threat, or as they but it....just breakfast"
He turns slowly toward the others, a faint line creases Eldrin’s brow.
“It has what it came for,” he murmurs. “Answers. And now… we are part of its calculus.”
From the folds of his coat, he produced a small glass vial, faintly glowing, which he offers to Lyra.
“For now, rest. When it returns, it will not come as a curious observer.”
His eyes drifted once more to the horizon, silver irises reflecting the fading light.
(Aw yeah, forgot I was in point blank range lol)
Re-Roll: 27 to hit for 10 piercing damage
Instead of taking another shot at the dragon, Gareth puts his bow away and kneels down next to Lyra. He's about to offer her a healing potion, but Eldrin is there first. The combination of her own divine magic and the potion should be enough to knit her wounds back together he thinks.
"How are you doing, Lyra?" he asks. "It got a pretty good chomp out of you. Missing any bits?" He smiles, trying to keep his tone light-hearted. "But that was an impressive spell you cast. You fooled a dragon!"
Extended Signature
Characters: Bryony Alderleaf (Phandelver and Below) ♦ Vesta Trevelyan (Vecna: Eve of Ruin) ♦ Ada Kendrick (Curse of Strahd) ♦ Gareth Blackwood (Dragon of Icespire Peak) ♦ Karys Velthune (Out of the Abyss) ♦ Surina Xarith (Simple, Heroic Adventure)
DM: Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus
Lyra feels the tension ease as the dragon decides to simply fly away. And at that precise moment, her legs decide they no longer want to support her. She drops rather unceremoniously to the ground, clutching the ragged front of her tunic in a mix of pain and shame, but also feels a bit relieved as her friends gather around. "I… I'm okay. I was lucky to heal the worst of it," she replies to Meira. The cleric tries to smile at her, but it's obvious that she's still rattled, and the expression lacks its usual spark.
When Eldrin remarks that the dragon wanted a taste of her strength, she drops her gaze to her boots, the shame in her chest deepening. I did nothing. What strength could that dragon have sensed in me? None at all! Then she looks up, startled, when the elf offers her a potion. She's about to refuse but ... that would be rude, wouldn't it? And besides, they still have traveling to do. Best to be at full strength, right? So, even though guilt prickles at her, she accepts it with a muttered, "Thank you, Eldrin."
Amazing! Rolled max healing with Lyra's spell, and also with the potion! Four fours, as Davy Jones would say.
Uncorking the vial, Lyra takes a slow sip. She'd never tried a healing potion before, and is surprised by the pleasant taste. "Is it just me, or does it taste like cherry?" she says, glancing at her companions, trying to sound casual—playful, even. But her trembling voice betrays the truth beneath.
The halfling feels steadier as the magic takes hold, and she rises to her feet, but still holds the torn fabric. "…Blast it," she mutters under her breath. "Where was I when they were teaching how to mend things?" But Gareth shakes her out of that thouoght when he praises the mirroring spell, "Oh? The mirroring spell? I guess I've taken a liking to seeing duplicates of me!"
Lyra smiles again—this time, a little less trembling and a little more steady. She looks at her friends with genuine gratitude in her eyes, then says, "I… guess we should keep moving?"
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Gareth,
Even with the dragon incredibly close, you sink an arrow into its neck as it attacks Lyra.
Meira,
Your last shot hits the dragon, embedding into its tail as it flies away. It snarls in pain, but makes no move to reengage the group.
Adventurers,
You continue your journey to Butterskull Ranch. The snow has stopped, but the wind from the east has picked up and is biting cold. Several hours after the dragon attack pass before you arrive at an abandoned settlement. The place is eerily silent except for the whistling of the wind as it blows through the settlement’s burned and crumbled-down structures. You all spot three horses grazing near the abandoned town's well.
Anyone interested can give me a perception roll, and anyone wishing to approach the horses can give me an animal handling check.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Eldrin's gaze lingers on the three horses, their breath misting faintly in the cold air, ears flicking at the sound of the wind. They look healthy enough, though their presence here is… curious.
His eyes sweep the ruins, the way he might scan the margins of an ancient manuscript, searching for what is written between the lines. The brittle crunch of snow beneath his companions’ feet feels loud against the whispering wind.
He pauses, his silver eyes narrowing as he studies the settlement’s edges, watching for faint movements, subtle tracks, or shadows that might reveal who—or what—still lingers here.
Perception: 19
When Lyra had mentioned the possibly cherry flavor of the potion, Meira chuckled slightly. "Just one little scratch from a dragon and you get all the fancy treats!" A big smile comes to her face though as she is clearly relieved to see the halfling is ok.
As the group resumes their travel, Meira keeps close to Lyra and continues chatting with her. Mostly just little comments: "Gareth was right, that spell was pretty clever against that dragon."; "I wonder if we should be more cautious when we travel. Keep to cover more? Do you suppose it flies about at night?"; "I suppose it is nice having multiples of you, but I'm happy just to have the one Lyra here."; "It is kind of amazing we scared off a dragon! It was such amazing being!"; "Do you suppose that wound will leave a scar?"; "This group really seems to work well together."; "You are sure you're ok, Lyra? I could carry some of your gear if you need me to."
Some comments, especially the last about checking that Lyra is ok, are repeated a number of times. There's a bit of nervous energy to Meira and she's far more talkative than usual. (Not that she usually silent!)
Arriving at the abandoned settlement, Meira looks around for any signs of activity. (Perception: 11) She leaves the horses for others more familiar with animals.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
After the dreadful fight with the white dragon, Zephyros remained eerily silent the entire trip.
The warrior, in truth, feels he failed.
Failed to protect.
To preserve.
Because of his failure, another one of his friends could have died.
"This will not happen again Ironheart. It better not."
Zephyros sends Felagi ahead to scout from above.
Perception: 7
Animal Handling: 9
Felagi's Perception: 25
Making their way to Butterskull Ranch, Lyra is able to put the encounter with the dragon behind her—more and more as Meira keeps talking to her. When asked if she'll get a scar, Lyra glances briefly beneath her clothes and, to her relief, sees none. "Not that I have any trouble with scars. Some scars look pretty cool on people. But perhaps not on me!" she replies. She's almost not finished with that sentence when the Meira asks for the third time if she's okay, then adds that she's happy to have one Lyra, despite the usefulness of her duplicates. At this, Lyra blushes slightly and quickly ensures that she's really fine! The cleric wonders if Meira is asking so much because she's worried after the fight. But that can't be, can it? She's always so cool and composed!
In any case, Lyra has almost forgotten about the dragon. But maybe not enough to overlook that Zephyros is silent. Too silent. In fact, he woke up that way already. She isn't sure what's going through the fighter's mind, but something tells her he's not quite fine. By now, the halfling knows better than to push him with questions, but she walks next to him for a while, simply standing there and offering him a warm smile—just in case it makes him feel a little better.
Once they reach the ranch, Lyra is quickly drawn to the horses. But even though she's mostly forgotten about the dragon attack, she remains wary—more than usual. So she doesn't approach the horses right away, waiting until some of her friends do. When they do, she walks with them, softly speaking to the horses, hoping to calm them a little. "Hello, uhm ... equine friends. We mean no harm, okay?" she murmurs gently. (ooc: Can she give help to assist anyone checking on the horses? Lyra doesn’t have proficiency in Animal Handling, so probably not. But she can at least offer Guidance to whoever companion wishes to use it.)
(Perception: 12)
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
(Gareth will use Lyra's Guidance when checking on the horses.)
Gareth frowns at the sight of the ruined ranch and the three horses cropping contentedly at the grass near the well. It's such a strange juxtaposition that it almost feels surreal. Did these horses belong to the ranch and if so, why weren't they harmed? Or did these horses belong to the attackers? That meant the attackers could still be in the area. The ranger approaches the animals cautiously, slowly extending a hand toward one of the horses and rubbing its neck if it will allow it.
"Easy there," he murmurs. "We're friends. Don't suppose you could tell us what happened here?"
Animal Handling - Nat 20 XD
Extended Signature
Characters: Bryony Alderleaf (Phandelver and Below) ♦ Vesta Trevelyan (Vecna: Eve of Ruin) ♦ Ada Kendrick (Curse of Strahd) ♦ Gareth Blackwood (Dragon of Icespire Peak) ♦ Karys Velthune (Out of the Abyss) ♦ Surina Xarith (Simple, Heroic Adventure)
DM: Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus
Adventurers,
You move into the abandoned town of Conyberry and approach the horses near the old well. Eldrin, Meira, and Lyra all notice each of the horses have been branded with the letters BAK on their right hind quarter. The horses begin to spook as the armored warrior, Zephyros approaches, but are quickly calmed by Gareth's reassuring presence. Each of the three horses are bridled but not saddled. It's clear they are domesticated. The sun is beginning to set and the last light of the day wanes. Aside from the neighing horses, all seems quiet in this ghost town. What would you like to do?
Zephyros,
Felagi takes flight and lets you know he spots a cow wearing a bell tied around its neck a few hundred feet away, just outside of town. The red tailed hawk also mentions seeing the letters BAK branded on the cow's right rear haunch.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
"BAK," Lyra whispers. "That must be for 'Big Al' Kalazorn — the retired sheriff in charge of Butterskull Ranch mentioned on the job board." She pauses. "Should we spend the night here in Conyberry? There's still a long way until Butterskull Ranch, and I guess it is better to travel during the day, right? And remember that temple south of here? Are we going to investigate that? Perhaps on our way back from the Ranch?"
Lyra scans the buildings ahead. Are they all destroyed? Is there not a single structure left standing where they could spend the night?
Out of curiosity, she also checks for tracks near the horses—just in case someone had ridden here and then ventured into the ghost town. (ooc: Rolled an extremely low Investigation check, 5)
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Lyra,
Looking around Conyberry, you spot several structures still standing. One such structure looks like it might have been the towns tavern. It's overgrown with vines and has its windows smashed out. Several more look to have burned to the ground or partially burned.
Looking at the ground near the horses, you see many hoof prints from the horses, but not much else.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.