After passing by the orcs, Meiracan't help but continue to keep an eye out to the southeast, still wondering if something might be out there. But her worry doesn't occupy all of her attention. Just before they reach the mine, she comes up alongside Lyra, whispering to her. "Perhaps there is a song to be made of these completely true exploits of Don-Juan Raskin," she says. "Single-handedly defeating a goblin army, killing a manticore bare-handed, whatever happened with those owlbears, and of course rescuing the princess from thirty bandits!" She chuckles softly, adding, "We'd have to fill in a few details of course. Like, how the goblins stole his chicken. Or how the princess had freckles, friendly brown eyes, and a cute smile."
At the mine, Meira watches as Don Jon just heads inside. "Best of luck with your mine!" she calls after him. She then turns to the rest of the party. "That seemed rather easy," she remarks. "Are we on to Butterskull Ranch now? Who knows the way?"
Eldrin rises slowly from his crouched position by the frost-rimed corpses, brushing his hands against one another as if shedding the chill of the investigation itself.
“Three days,” he says quietly, more to himself than the others. “No wounds… no arrows, blades, nor claw marks. They didn’t fall to raiders, nor beasts of the land. They froze.”
He glances up at the wide, open sky and the distant mountains before turning his gaze deliberately to the southeast, the same direction Meira noted the fleeing animals. His tone shifts to something colder, sharper.
“This was not the weather’s doing. No storm has passed through this region capable of such lethal cold… Something did this.”
His expression hardens, not in fear, but in grim recognition. “I would say the dragon has flown this way at least 3 days ago”
As the group begins to gather and move onward, Eldrin follows, silent for a long while. His mind is turning, not with panic, but thoughtfulness. His academic curiosity at odds with the knowledge of danger, tempered by the quiet truth that this is precisely the sort of beast he has come here to witness.
Zephyros listens respectfully as Don-Jon tells his tales. However, a hint of anger surges through the armored warrior as the cowboy dismisses his own war story. With furrowed brows, Zephyros listens as Eldrin describes his findings. Not the conclusion the bull of a man came to, but his agitation forces him to remain silent. Lest he say something he didn't intend to offend. Looked like a sunburn or something, but a dragon attack would make sense.
At the mine, Zephyros nods at Don-Jon, "Farwell, good sir. My your mine be successful."
"Yes, let's make tracks. The ranch is this way." Zephyros responds to Lyraas he begins to walk North from the mine entrance.
As you turn to leave, Don-Jon runs out of the mine yelling, "Nasty varmints infesting the mine. Wait... wait!" As he catches up to the group he tells you the mine has been taken over by some weird rat-humanoid hybrids. "I've never seen anything like it before! Please help me eradicate the pests."
Lyrarolls her eyes as Don Jon turns the story of the princess into one with owlbears. More owlbears than in Gareth's story. Of course—how could it be otherwise?
When Meiraapproaches and whispers to her, Lyra almost missteps. Freckles? Friendly brown eyes? ... And a cute smile!? She flushes, her eyes going wide for a second, and then glances back at Meira, blurting—half in mock offense, half in genuine panic—"Meira! You can’t just—just say things like that while I’m walking! I... I almost tripped!"
There's a beat where she tries to regain composure, but her ears are going pink, and her grin keeps breaking through. She mumbles back, "Well! And... and... and—"Quickly, think of something, Lyra!"—what of the heroine who saves the day, with her sweet voice and her rapier!” Ugh, she groans inwardly. I feel stupid. Then, quickly, Lyra finishes, "But I absolutely love the chicken line!"
The cleric is almost grateful when Eldrinfinishes his assesment. But no, of course not. She really isn't. She falls silent, then just manages, "I wish you were wrong. But you aren't... are you? What should we do? This happened so near Phandalin."
The question seems to answer itself when Don Jon comes running out of the mine. Perhaps there's a more pressing issue now. Lyra looks around at her companions. It's not like the cowboy can't be exaggerating—but still, they should help him. She asks him, "Are you entirely certain? Gods above, there must be thousands of them if you can't handle them on your own. After all your stories you told us!" Her tone is light with mockery, but her stance makes it clear to everyone she's ready to act.
(ooc: just in case, he's not lying right? Insight 18)
Meirahad looked at Lyrawith completely feigned ignorance of what she was talking about. "But... I'm just telling you about the princess. It's just what came to mind... I mean..." She looked at the halfling as she started talking about a heroine with a sweet voice and rapier. "Wait, do you have brown eyes?" She then gives her a quick wink as she softly pats her on the back. "I am sorry, I had no intention of making you trip."
With the sudden commotion of Don-Jon rushing out just as they were about to leave, Meiraturns serious, at least until Lyra'sresponse. She chuckles at her retort, but then proposes, "Our job was to drop you off here at the mine. We could help if you are willing to provide an adequate payment for the additional help. What's in there, anyway?"
You sense genuine fear from the cowboy. Don-Jon says, "Thousands... no, no. There are two of them guarding the entrance. I.. errr, well... I mean I could handle it myself... but..."
Meira,
Don-Jon turns to you and responds, "...payment? I... uhh, umm. Hmm. I can give ya a few gold pieces. It's all I have on me. The company is paying for the escort, which I say should include clearing the mine of the vermin." Don-Jon adds the last part with a smugness, clearly proud that he thought to add it to the discussion.
Meira grins at Don-Jon, shaking her head 'no'. "Nope, not so fast cowboy. I specifically asked and you said that the only thing we had to do was get you here. We are done with our part."
But she relaxes her posture a bit, and continues. "We aren't heartless though. A few gold coins is probably not really worth it. But surely this mine has some value. Maybe you could share with us future money? If this is your mine."
She starts to turn to ask the others' opinion on deferring payment. But she quickly looks back at Don-Jon. "Oh, and I don't believe for a moment there are just two of... What was it you said is in the mine?"
Eldrin stands aside from the conversation at first, arms loosely crossed, weight settled on one leg in a posture of mild detachment. But his eyes are sharp, focused not on Don-Jon’s blustering or the threat of rat-creatures, but on Meira.
As Don-Jon stammers through his excuses, Eldrin’s lips curl into something that’s almost, almost, a smile. Not amusement. Appreciation.
As Meira deftly steers the conversation toward long-term value, equity over coin, Eldrin’s eyes narrow slightly, like a scholar observing a student offering an unexpected but elegant solution to a difficult problem.
Finally, he speaks, his voice cool but resonant.
“Well said.” His gaze remains fixed on Meira, giving her a subtle nod of approval. “It would be a shame to exchange blood and time for a handful of loose change when the mine itself represents something far more significant.”
Only now does he turn his attention to Don-Jon, studying the man like one might study a peacock, shiny, loud, and entirely too pleased with itself.
Eldrin snaps his fingers and a hovering quill that appears by his shoulder, ready to write an agreement. “I would suggest that future shares—or at the very least, a percentage of early profits—would be a reasonable exchange. Unless of course… you believe these ‘varmints’ pose no threat, in which case I’m sure you’ll clear the mine yourself.”
His gaze sharpens slightly, expression cool and crystalline. “Your choice, of course.”
He looks again to Meira, offering a subtle inclination of his head, a quiet acknowledgement of her foresight, before waiting to see if Don-Jon’s greed outweighs his bravado.
Gareth rolls his eyes when Don Jon immediately tries to one up his story about the owlbears. Before he can say anything, though, they come across the dead orcs. Eldrin reveals that it was likely the dragon who did this to them, and the ranger agrees. Upon closer inspection, they didn't seem to die from any wounds that Gareth recognized from other creatures in the area. If it really was the dragon who killed the orcs, it could still be in the area. The ranger is still scanning the sky apprehensively when Don Jon comes running back out of the mine.
Meira proves to be a shrewd negotiator, and Eldrin is quick to offer his support. The ranger shrugs indifferently at this change in proposed payment. Profits from the mine could prove to be quite lucrative, but it's not the usual way he makes coin. He's put slightly off balance by this new opportunity, but he trusts his companions enough to defer the matter to them. What piques his interest more is the description Don Jon gave of the creatures. "Rat-human hybrids?" Gareth says, trying to remember what sort of creature or monster fits that description.
Zephyros turns back to the mine as Don-Jon runs out yelling for help. His warrior spirit kicks in and his trident is at the ready in a heartbeat. Though this cowboy irritates the battle hardened veteran, he would still lay his life down to protection of him if needed.
Zephyros listens as Lyra pokes at the man with words meant to wound. He listens as Meira negotiates fair compensation for our efforts. He listens and watches as Eldrin makes ready to scribe a contract for a share in the mines profits. The bull of a man gives Gareth a sideways glance with one eyebrow raised as he repeats Don-Jon's words. 'Rat-human hybrids...hmm.'
Zephyros begins to scan his memory for knowledge of such creatures. (Nature: also a 9)
"I would see these creatures for myself." Zephyros states bluntly as he stalks towards the mine entrance. (Percetion: Nat 20+4=24)
Please provide a persuasion check with advantage thanks to Eldrin's (help) assistance.
Gareth & Zephyros,
You both remember creatures that can take on the form of an animal. Druids have the ability to wildshape, but this is something else. Something more primal. Werewolves come to mind, but these have been described as rat like. You've never encountered wererats before, but it's possible this may be what you're dealing with.
Zephyros,
Moving to the entrance, it's difficult at first for your eyes to adjust to the dim light that emanates from within compared to the daylight outside. However, a few seconds is all it takes and you become aware of two creatures waiting just inside.
You see two humanoids that have faces that could only be described as rat-like. Furry with sharp teeth and clawed hands. Both creatures carry shortswords and hand crossbows. They stare at you as come into eyesight. You see them whisper to each other and then one draws its sword, while the other sets a bolt in its crossbow.
(Cross-posted with the DM, so I'm editing this post.) (Meira Persusasion w/Help: 26)
Meirasighs as Zephyrosstalks off before they've finished speaking with Don-Jon. She'd heard the mention of the hybrids, but hoped the man would provide a bit more information first. She gave a glance towards Eldrin, grateful for his help here. While she tries to stay focused on Don-Jon's response, she nudges Lyra. Softly she says, "Maybe keep an eye on Zephyros?"
Lyra mutters to her friends, "He doesn't seem to be lying. His fear is genuine," but then falls silent as the negotiations take place. She eyes Zephyros as he moves toward the entrance of the mine, and just as she's wondering why he isn't waiting for the rest to finish, Meira nudges her. Lyra nods and carefully follows after the big man. (Stealth: 18)
"Hey,"she whispers once she reaches him, "Let's wait for the others before we do anything, okay?"
She doesn't think much of it when she places a hand on Zephyros' forearm—the blessing comes automatically, before she even processes that perhaps he doesn't want to be blessed. (ooc: Zephyros now has the Blessing of the Trickster)
Zephyros hears the stealthy halfling come up alongside him. Without taking his eyes from the mine entrance, the bull of a man responds. "Indeed. I simply wanted to see what we're up against. Foul beasts..."
The armored warrior instinctively jerks his arm away from the small cleric as she touches his arm. He hardens his mind from such a blessing, refusing to allow it to take hold. (Wisdom save: 18).
"Please don't..." He pauses and turns back to walk back to the rest of the group. Inside, he knows Lyra only wants to help, but can't seem to get over the gods being the puppeteers, toying with the rest of us.
When arriving back to the group, Zephyros relays what he's seen to everyone. "These creatures do not look friendly. We should put them out of their misery."
(ooc: Gotta say, Lyra didn't really tell Zephryos she was going to bless him. There's a variety of other things Lyra can do by touching, like Cure Wounds and Guidance. Or a simple gentle "hey, how are you!" Having said that, I'll defer to you and/or the DM. All good on my side. I don't even have to mark or unmark the use on the sheet!)
(ooc: Gotta say, Lyra didn't really tell Zephryos she was going to bless him. There's a variety of other things Lyra can do by touching, like Cure Wounds and Guidance. Or a simple gentle "hey, how are you!" Having said that, I'll defer to you and/or the DM. All good on my side. I don't even have to mark or unmark the use on the sheet!)
"Blessing of the Trickster: Starting when you choose this domain at 1st level, you can use your action to touch a willing creature other than yourself to give it advantage on Dexterity (Stealth) checks. This blessing lasts for 1 hour or until you use this feature again."
Based on the verbiage in the PHB, the creature must be willing and therefore aware of your casting. Zephyros is unwilling. Therefore, the blessing would not take effect. You do not need to mark a use on your sheet, but I believe it's similar to a cantrip. At will usage... maybe I'm wrong.
[OOC: With a nature check of 13, would Eldrin be able to put the pieces together that the dragon was responsible for the orc's demise?]
I would say yes, you would.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
After passing by the orcs, Meira can't help but continue to keep an eye out to the southeast, still wondering if something might be out there. But her worry doesn't occupy all of her attention. Just before they reach the mine, she comes up alongside Lyra, whispering to her. "Perhaps there is a song to be made of these completely true exploits of Don-Juan Raskin," she says. "Single-handedly defeating a goblin army, killing a manticore bare-handed, whatever happened with those owlbears, and of course rescuing the princess from thirty bandits!" She chuckles softly, adding, "We'd have to fill in a few details of course. Like, how the goblins stole his chicken. Or how the princess had freckles, friendly brown eyes, and a cute smile."
At the mine, Meira watches as Don Jon just heads inside. "Best of luck with your mine!" she calls after him. She then turns to the rest of the party. "That seemed rather easy," she remarks. "Are we on to Butterskull Ranch now? Who knows the way?"
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 rises slowly from his crouched position by the frost-rimed corpses, brushing his hands against one another as if shedding the chill of the investigation itself.
“Three days,” he says quietly, more to himself than the others. “No wounds… no arrows, blades, nor claw marks. They didn’t fall to raiders, nor beasts of the land. They froze.”
He glances up at the wide, open sky and the distant mountains before turning his gaze deliberately to the southeast, the same direction Meira noted the fleeing animals. His tone shifts to something colder, sharper.
“This was not the weather’s doing. No storm has passed through this region capable of such lethal cold… Something did this.”
His expression hardens, not in fear, but in grim recognition. “I would say the dragon has flown this way at least 3 days ago”
As the group begins to gather and move onward, Eldrin follows, silent for a long while. His mind is turning, not with panic, but thoughtfulness. His academic curiosity at odds with the knowledge of danger, tempered by the quiet truth that this is precisely the sort of beast he has come here to witness.
Zephyros listens respectfully as Don-Jon tells his tales. However, a hint of anger surges through the armored warrior as the cowboy dismisses his own war story. With furrowed brows, Zephyros listens as Eldrin describes his findings. Not the conclusion the bull of a man came to, but his agitation forces him to remain silent. Lest he say something he didn't intend to offend. Looked like a sunburn or something, but a dragon attack would make sense.
At the mine, Zephyros nods at Don-Jon, "Farwell, good sir. My your mine be successful."
"Yes, let's make tracks. The ranch is this way." Zephyros responds to Lyra as he begins to walk North from the mine entrance.
Adventurers,
As you turn to leave, Don-Jon runs out of the mine yelling, "Nasty varmints infesting the mine. Wait... wait!" As he catches up to the group he tells you the mine has been taken over by some weird rat-humanoid hybrids. "I've never seen anything like it before! Please help me eradicate the pests."
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Lyra rolls her eyes as Don Jon turns the story of the princess into one with owlbears. More owlbears than in Gareth's story. Of course—how could it be otherwise?
When Meira approaches and whispers to her, Lyra almost missteps. Freckles? Friendly brown eyes? ... And a cute smile!? She flushes, her eyes going wide for a second, and then glances back at Meira, blurting—half in mock offense, half in genuine panic—"Meira! You can’t just—just say things like that while I’m walking! I... I almost tripped!"
There's a beat where she tries to regain composure, but her ears are going pink, and her grin keeps breaking through. She mumbles back, "Well! And... and... and—" Quickly, think of something, Lyra! "—what of the heroine who saves the day, with her sweet voice and her rapier!” Ugh, she groans inwardly. I feel stupid. Then, quickly, Lyra finishes, "But I absolutely love the chicken line!"
The cleric is almost grateful when Eldrin finishes his assesment. But no, of course not. She really isn't. She falls silent, then just manages, "I wish you were wrong. But you aren't... are you? What should we do? This happened so near Phandalin."
The question seems to answer itself when Don Jon comes running out of the mine. Perhaps there's a more pressing issue now. Lyra looks around at her companions. It's not like the cowboy can't be exaggerating—but still, they should help him. She asks him, "Are you entirely certain? Gods above, there must be thousands of them if you can't handle them on your own. After all your stories you told us!" Her tone is light with mockery, but her stance makes it clear to everyone she's ready to act.
(ooc: just in case, he's not lying right? Insight 18)
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Meira had looked at Lyra with completely feigned ignorance of what she was talking about. "But... I'm just telling you about the princess. It's just what came to mind... I mean..." She looked at the halfling as she started talking about a heroine with a sweet voice and rapier. "Wait, do you have brown eyes?" She then gives her a quick wink as she softly pats her on the back. "I am sorry, I had no intention of making you trip."
With the sudden commotion of Don-Jon rushing out just as they were about to leave, Meira turns serious, at least until Lyra's response. She chuckles at her retort, but then proposes, "Our job was to drop you off here at the mine. We could help if you are willing to provide an adequate payment for the additional help. What's in there, anyway?"
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
Lyra,
You sense genuine fear from the cowboy. Don-Jon says, "Thousands... no, no. There are two of them guarding the entrance. I.. errr, well... I mean I could handle it myself... but..."
Meira,
Don-Jon turns to you and responds, "...payment? I... uhh, umm. Hmm. I can give ya a few gold pieces. It's all I have on me. The company is paying for the escort, which I say should include clearing the mine of the vermin." Don-Jon adds the last part with a smugness, clearly proud that he thought to add it to the discussion.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Meira grins at Don-Jon, shaking her head 'no'. "Nope, not so fast cowboy. I specifically asked and you said that the only thing we had to do was get you here. We are done with our part."
But she relaxes her posture a bit, and continues. "We aren't heartless though. A few gold coins is probably not really worth it. But surely this mine has some value. Maybe you could share with us future money? If this is your mine."
She starts to turn to ask the others' opinion on deferring payment. But she quickly looks back at Don-Jon. "Oh, and I don't believe for a moment there are just two of... What was it you said is in the mine?"
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 stands aside from the conversation at first, arms loosely crossed, weight settled on one leg in a posture of mild detachment. But his eyes are sharp, focused not on Don-Jon’s blustering or the threat of rat-creatures, but on Meira.
As Don-Jon stammers through his excuses, Eldrin’s lips curl into something that’s almost, almost, a smile. Not amusement. Appreciation.
As Meira deftly steers the conversation toward long-term value, equity over coin, Eldrin’s eyes narrow slightly, like a scholar observing a student offering an unexpected but elegant solution to a difficult problem.
Finally, he speaks, his voice cool but resonant.
“Well said.” His gaze remains fixed on Meira, giving her a subtle nod of approval. “It would be a shame to exchange blood and time for a handful of loose change when the mine itself represents something far more significant.”
Only now does he turn his attention to Don-Jon, studying the man like one might study a peacock, shiny, loud, and entirely too pleased with itself.
Eldrin snaps his fingers and a hovering quill that appears by his shoulder, ready to write an agreement. “I would suggest that future shares—or at the very least, a percentage of early profits—would be a reasonable exchange. Unless of course… you believe these ‘varmints’ pose no threat, in which case I’m sure you’ll clear the mine yourself.”
His gaze sharpens slightly, expression cool and crystalline. “Your choice, of course.”
He looks again to Meira, offering a subtle inclination of his head, a quiet acknowledgement of her foresight, before waiting to see if Don-Jon’s greed outweighs his bravado.
Gareth rolls his eyes when Don Jon immediately tries to one up his story about the owlbears. Before he can say anything, though, they come across the dead orcs. Eldrin reveals that it was likely the dragon who did this to them, and the ranger agrees. Upon closer inspection, they didn't seem to die from any wounds that Gareth recognized from other creatures in the area. If it really was the dragon who killed the orcs, it could still be in the area. The ranger is still scanning the sky apprehensively when Don Jon comes running back out of the mine.
Meira proves to be a shrewd negotiator, and Eldrin is quick to offer his support. The ranger shrugs indifferently at this change in proposed payment. Profits from the mine could prove to be quite lucrative, but it's not the usual way he makes coin. He's put slightly off balance by this new opportunity, but he trusts his companions enough to defer the matter to them. What piques his interest more is the description Don Jon gave of the creatures. "Rat-human hybrids?" Gareth says, trying to remember what sort of creature or monster fits that description.
Nature? - 9
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
Zephyros turns back to the mine as Don-Jon runs out yelling for help. His warrior spirit kicks in and his trident is at the ready in a heartbeat. Though this cowboy irritates the battle hardened veteran, he would still lay his life down to protection of him if needed.
Zephyros listens as Lyra pokes at the man with words meant to wound. He listens as Meira negotiates fair compensation for our efforts. He listens and watches as Eldrin makes ready to scribe a contract for a share in the mines profits. The bull of a man gives Gareth a sideways glance with one eyebrow raised as he repeats Don-Jon's words. 'Rat-human hybrids...hmm.'
Zephyros begins to scan his memory for knowledge of such creatures. (Nature: also a 9)
"I would see these creatures for myself." Zephyros states bluntly as he stalks towards the mine entrance. (Percetion: Nat 20+4=24)
Meira,
Please provide a persuasion check with advantage thanks to Eldrin's (help) assistance.
Gareth & Zephyros,
You both remember creatures that can take on the form of an animal. Druids have the ability to wildshape, but this is something else. Something more primal. Werewolves come to mind, but these have been described as rat like. You've never encountered wererats before, but it's possible this may be what you're dealing with.
Zephyros,
Moving to the entrance, it's difficult at first for your eyes to adjust to the dim light that emanates from within compared to the daylight outside. However, a few seconds is all it takes and you become aware of two creatures waiting just inside.
You see two humanoids that have faces that could only be described as rat-like. Furry with sharp teeth and clawed hands. Both creatures carry shortswords and hand crossbows. They stare at you as come into eyesight. You see them whisper to each other and then one draws its sword, while the other sets a bolt in its crossbow.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
(Cross-posted with the DM, so I'm editing this post.)
(Meira Persusasion w/Help: 26)
Meira sighs as Zephyros stalks off before they've finished speaking with Don-Jon. She'd heard the mention of the hybrids, but hoped the man would provide a bit more information first. She gave a glance towards Eldrin, grateful for his help here. While she tries to stay focused on Don-Jon's response, she nudges Lyra. Softly she says, "Maybe keep an eye on Zephyros?"
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
Lyra mutters to her friends, "He doesn't seem to be lying. His fear is genuine," but then falls silent as the negotiations take place. She eyes Zephyros as he moves toward the entrance of the mine, and just as she's wondering why he isn't waiting for the rest to finish, Meira nudges her. Lyra nods and carefully follows after the big man. (Stealth: 18)
"Hey," she whispers once she reaches him, "Let's wait for the others before we do anything, okay?"
She doesn't think much of it when she places a hand on Zephyros' forearm—the blessing comes automatically, before she even processes that perhaps he doesn't want to be blessed. (ooc: Zephyros now has the Blessing of the Trickster)
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Zephyros hears the stealthy halfling come up alongside him. Without taking his eyes from the mine entrance, the bull of a man responds. "Indeed. I simply wanted to see what we're up against. Foul beasts..."
The armored warrior instinctively jerks his arm away from the small cleric as she touches his arm. He hardens his mind from such a blessing, refusing to allow it to take hold. (Wisdom save: 18).
"Please don't..." He pauses and turns back to walk back to the rest of the group. Inside, he knows Lyra only wants to help, but can't seem to get over the gods being the puppeteers, toying with the rest of us.
When arriving back to the group, Zephyros relays what he's seen to everyone. "These creatures do not look friendly. We should put them out of their misery."
(ooc: Gotta say, Lyra didn't really tell Zephryos she was going to bless him. There's a variety of other things Lyra can do by touching, like Cure Wounds and Guidance. Or a simple gentle "hey, how are you!" Having said that, I'll defer to you and/or the DM. All good on my side. I don't even have to mark or unmark the use on the sheet!)
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
"Blessing of the Trickster: Starting when you choose this domain at 1st level, you can use your action to touch a willing creature other than yourself to give it advantage on Dexterity (Stealth) checks. This blessing lasts for 1 hour or until you use this feature again."
Based on the verbiage in the PHB, the creature must be willing and therefore aware of your casting. Zephyros is unwilling. Therefore, the blessing would not take effect. You do not need to mark a use on your sheet, but I believe it's similar to a cantrip. At will usage... maybe I'm wrong.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
(True! I read too quickly and stand corrected!)
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra