The tinker cleaned up after the minor set back with his trinket blackened his face. He returned shortly after, humbled just a little. He ate a portion of the stew, enjoyed the company and the fire, then retired to a space near the gnome wagon. He hoped that a small bit of heat remaining from the boiler would help keep the cold at bay as he slept.
He wakes in the early morning as Kaelthor makes his rounds announcing the coming of the dawn. He quickly rolls over and scrambles to his belongings. "No, not that tool! This isn't what I'm looking for!' as he begins to dump rations from the pack. After a shake of the bag, he finally reaches into the backpack. A calm crosses his mind as his fingers find that which he searched for. An unknowable warmth radiates up and into the small fellow almost as if the sun rise was occurring at the same time as his hand was pulled forth from his canvassed container (but only for the gnome).
"By the gods..." the words in a whisper escape his mouth. Several visions flash through his mind, some, events he recalls, others unknown to him. "I shall call you...Wright, Reorx's Wright, and with you, I will make things right." his voice barely louder than before. He puts the talisman away (but close) and repacks that which he has scattered. A renewed feeling that perhaps Ispin (and others) are watching over him...and the group.
Cassian stirs awake with a sharp intake of breath, the echo of dragonfire and clashing steel still ringing in his ears. For a heartbeat he thinks it no more than a soldier’s nightmare, but when instinct drives his hand to his pack, his breath stills. Nestled among his belongings lies the talisman: silver worked into the form of Draco Paladine, gleaming. He lifts it with reverent care and feels its warmth seep into his palm.
The honor is humbling, but the weight of it presses heavy on his chest. This blessing is a call to arms, a promise of battles yet to come, and if the vision holds truth, those battles will be desperate indeed. He closes his hand around the talisman, bows his head briefly in silent prayer, then tucks it safely away. When he rises, he glances toward his companions.
“How did you sleep?” he asks with his usual earnest smile, not wanting to concern anyone.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
| Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep| Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia| Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren| Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron| Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault| Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts | Cassian - Human Paladin - Dragonlance |
Vardok hears it like a whisper, and bats at the sound, eyes still closed, mouth twisted in a grin, he was still deep asleep when roused by Kaelthor. "You're always full of tricks!" he says in a slurred voice as he comes awake, smiling then laughing, then he stops. He sits up with a start, eyes blinking, looking around. "Ispin." He says it with longing, a sad look takes over his face.
He notices Cassian, Salty and Kaelthor seem busy this morning, he is curious when he sees something tied to Kaelthor's staff. He's an observant little kender. His eyes widen when asked by Cassian about his sleep. He sits up, stretching, getting limber. "I... I dreamt of Ispin. Such wonderful things he would bring us, tricks he would play, games and puzzles... I miss him. I was dreaming about him, Cassian." He stands, starts scratching at his sides and his nether regions, then puts on his shoes and walks over to the prior night's campfire site to see if anyone has relit it. "What about you? Dream anything strange? I'm feeling hungry. Peckish. Dunno if anyone else is. Maybe a nice pear or peach..." Then he sits back down and starts to put back on his other gear.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Suddenly the Night lark calls out in distress and flies down to Kaelthors hand flapping wildly. You hear someone on the road running as if their life depends on it, labored breathing. The runner dashes into your camp, help me please, the knights, ambushed. He collapses on the floor trying to breathe normally.
Kaelthor busied himself with quiet hands—shaking dew from the tarpaulin, scattering moss from his resting place back into the undergrowth, tightening straps on his pack. He took the horses by their leads and walked them to the spring, the talisman bound to his staff knocking softly against the ashwood spiral as he moved.
Vardok’s voice carried easily, even through the trickle of water. Kaelthor’s brows drew together as he listened. A dream of Ispin—light, bright, playful. 'Better than mine.' He almost envied it. Dreams had long been strangers to him; what he had seen in the night had felt heavier, older—vision, omen, memory, he could not say. Perhaps only the mind’s wandering. 'Am I so far gone that I cannot tell the difference?'
He shook the thought off with a tug at the reins, guiding the horses to drink. The morning was no place for riddles. There was a road ahead.
At the lark’s harsh cry, Kaelthor stiffened, staff already in hand, eyes raking the trees and brush for sign. The bird’s wings battered against his wrist as the runner broke through, voice ragged, body failing. Kaelthor moved at once, lowering the man to sit with his back braced against a log, tugging his cloak loose to ease his breathing. His hands were quick, efficient—clearing space, steadying shoulders—no comfort offered, only what kept life clinging to the body a little longer.
He glanced across the camp, green eyes narrowing, an unspoken question passing to each in turn. Aid, or silence? He knew the answer before they could give it. These companions were Ispin’s friends; they would not turn away. With a sharp breath, he rose. One hand drew his pouch of river stones close, the other tightening on his staff. Without another word, he turned his body toward the road the runner had come from.
Liwen slept relatively well though the urgent call wakes him. He scrambles up and hurriedly follows the others checking the strap on his spellbook as he quickly moves with hair unkempt and out of place. He makes sure to lag a bit behind as he knows he is not meant to be fighting toe to toe with anyone.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Salty
The gnome had just finished putting his pack back together when the stranger stumbled into the camp. He had initially gone to see if the traveler was alright as well when Levna gave order to assist. He quickly gave the runner a once over (Medicine: 18) and then felt a little uneasy. It was as if a tiny part of himself passed through his fingers/hands into the man (Spare the Dying, if Reorx allows just in case). The feeling passed quickly though, "By Reorx' will...cannot dwell on that right now. Focus on what's important."
He then scoops up his gear and heads out with the others, talisman close at hand.
The kender groans as Kaelthor wakens the camp at dawn. "Seriously? Dawn? Can't we at least wait till the birds wake us? And then make time for a nice leisurely breakfast? We made good time yesterday, we'll be fine, especially now that we have horses!"
The thought of riding Sprite suddenly occurs to her and she springs herself up, reading herself for the continued journey. But as the fallen knight comes and the night lark.. she pauses in mid gathering. She stands up, leaving her bedroll where it lay and heads to the edge of the forest, following the rest but trying to stay hidden.
The knight's expression shifts to one of sympathy as Vardok describes his dream, thinking back to his memories of Ispen as well. He opens his mouth to reply, but the runner stumbles into camp before he can. Immediately slipping into rescue mode, he grabs his pack and starts heading into the indicated direction, taking the lead as duty demands.
"An ambush... Disgraceful, but saving the knights takes precedence if we must choose between that or vengeance."
The young man feels better and he is no longer breathless, Saltys touch had cured him.
I'm Rhys, I can show you the way he insisted. They paid me to tend their horses and drive the wagon, we must hurry.
Rhys leads the characters down the road. As you approach the place where the ambush happened Rhys refused to go further, just around the bend. You hear the sound of steel hitting steel. You are not too late.
A wagon lies toppled , surrounded by armoured corpses. Strange figures pick through the remains. From beneath the figures dark cloaks just scaly wings and sharp, reptilian features. One holds a staff. The smell of ozone is in the air, a lightning spell. You can see black soot on armour where it had hit.
Their magic user stares at you then details two of his warriors to fight you whilst he and the other three slip away. They slit the throat of the remaining knight, and turn their leering faces towards you, you feel a touch of fear shiver down your backs.
One stands next to the wagon on the right, the other stands next to the fallen knight on the left.
Kaelthor’s eyes swept the carnage as they came upon it—the toppled wagon, scorched armour, blood already darkening the dirt. His breath drew sharp through his nose as he marked the knights. One still twitched—the throat cut. The others lay in silence. Is there anything left for him to mend? He wonders.
His hand dipped into the pouch at his hip, drawing out three smooth pebbles, river-worn. He rolled them across his palm, thumb pressing each in turn as he whispered a low rasp of words. Faint green veins traced over the stone like roots seeking soil, then faded, leaving a subtle weight behind (cast Magic Stone).
He snapped one between forefinger and thumb and sent it whipping toward the nearest draconian. The pebble struck like a slingstone, primal force behind its modest shape (hits AC 16 for 7 damage). Without waiting to see its mark, Kaelthor stepped back, slipping behind a spray of brush at the roadside, staff held ready in his other hand. The foliage shivered as he pressed into cover, eyes already measuring the distance for his next throw.
Bonus: cast Magic Stone Action: spell attack with infused pebble, hits AC 16 for 7 damage Move: tries to get out of range 65-70ft away if possible and behind light cover if available.
Cassian grits his teeth, shaking with rage before he forces himself to take a steadying breath and draw his trident. Draconians, murderers! He says nothing - the monsters could not be reasoned with even if he could speak their accursed language. He rushes toward the nearest enemy and levels a piecing blow at it, hoping to knock the creature to the ground so his companions can finish it more easily. Then a flash of divine energy pulses from him, attempting to force the other scaly warrior to focus on him.
Action: trident to hit 18 with inspiration, damage 5 and topple (DC 14 Con)
Bonus Action: compelled duel on the next closest draconian, DC 14 Wis.
Kaelthors river stone hit true and opened a gash just above the eye of the Draconian on the left. As with all headwounds it gushed blood. (Draconian now fights with disadvantage).
Shortly afterwards Cassian thrusts a trident into its side grazing the ribs through armour, the draconian staggers and falls from the force of it. For the moment it is prone.
The other draconian by the wagon throws up its sword and shouts a challenge!
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Salty
Relieved that Ryhs seemed no longer in distress but a little unsure of where or what the exact reason was Salty follows the man to the location of the attack. The initial sight sets him aback. He had seen minor injuries aboard ship before, but knights slain...and by draconians, that was all new to him. For some reason it angered him, and he felt compelled to act, maybe rashly.
With little thought, he rushed forward and followed Cassian's lead. He drew forth his light hammer (used mostly for crafting) from his belt and swinging it with both hands, attempted to clobber the prone combatant.
Vardok comes around the bend, running at the sound of trouble. He loads a stone into his hoopak as he goes, and when he sees the scene, he starts to take aim. He hurls the stone at the standing draconian, grunting as he does so. “Foul beast, murderer! You must pay for what you have done here!” He feels the stone go flying through the air, aiming to knock out the second draconian.
Hoopak : 18 to hit, for 5 points of bludgeoning damage to the standing draconian.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Knowing she wasn't stealthy enough to hide from these brutes, the kender steps out from behind the trees and looses an arrow from her shortbow at the one standing, following the stone Vardok sent.
Liwen watches his firebolt catch the draconians cloak alight but otherwise no damage, he ducks safely behind a bush.
Saltys light hammer attack dents the helmet of the draconian, he screams his agony, his eyes momentarily blink with inner lids and you see one eye pupil is bigger than another. Concussion.
Vardoks stone hits the standing draconian in the face, knocking the loose helmet off. His long nose is bleeding liberally down his armour plate.
Vexi soon follows up with an arrow, which sadly glances the armour without hitting
Levna strikes at the prone draconian, her longsword slicing through his neck. She is unable to draw it out again and watched the draconian turn to stone with her sword lodged into it. She quickly lets go of the sword and draws a small dagger
Salty
The tinker cleaned up after the minor set back with his trinket blackened his face. He returned shortly after, humbled just a little. He ate a portion of the stew, enjoyed the company and the fire, then retired to a space near the gnome wagon. He hoped that a small bit of heat remaining from the boiler would help keep the cold at bay as he slept.
He wakes in the early morning as Kaelthor makes his rounds announcing the coming of the dawn. He quickly rolls over and scrambles to his belongings. "No, not that tool! This isn't what I'm looking for!' as he begins to dump rations from the pack. After a shake of the bag, he finally reaches into the backpack. A calm crosses his mind as his fingers find that which he searched for. An unknowable warmth radiates up and into the small fellow almost as if the sun rise was occurring at the same time as his hand was pulled forth from his canvassed container (but only for the gnome).
"By the gods..." the words in a whisper escape his mouth. Several visions flash through his mind, some, events he recalls, others unknown to him. "I shall call you...Wright, Reorx's Wright, and with you, I will make things right." his voice barely louder than before. He puts the talisman away (but close) and repacks that which he has scattered. A renewed feeling that perhaps Ispin (and others) are watching over him...and the group.
Cassian
Cassian stirs awake with a sharp intake of breath, the echo of dragonfire and clashing steel still ringing in his ears. For a heartbeat he thinks it no more than a soldier’s nightmare, but when instinct drives his hand to his pack, his breath stills. Nestled among his belongings lies the talisman: silver worked into the form of Draco Paladine, gleaming. He lifts it with reverent care and feels its warmth seep into his palm.
The honor is humbling, but the weight of it presses heavy on his chest. This blessing is a call to arms, a promise of battles yet to come, and if the vision holds truth, those battles will be desperate indeed. He closes his hand around the talisman, bows his head briefly in silent prayer, then tucks it safely away. When he rises, he glances toward his companions.
“How did you sleep?” he asks with his usual earnest smile, not wanting to concern anyone.
| Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep | Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia | Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren | Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron | Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault | Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts | Cassian - Human Paladin - Dragonlance |
Vardok
“Up, dawn comes.”
Vardok hears it like a whisper, and bats at the sound, eyes still closed, mouth twisted in a grin, he was still deep asleep when roused by Kaelthor. "You're always full of tricks!" he says in a slurred voice as he comes awake, smiling then laughing, then he stops. He sits up with a start, eyes blinking, looking around. "Ispin." He says it with longing, a sad look takes over his face.
He notices Cassian, Salty and Kaelthor seem busy this morning, he is curious when he sees something tied to Kaelthor's staff. He's an observant little kender. His eyes widen when asked by Cassian about his sleep. He sits up, stretching, getting limber. "I... I dreamt of Ispin. Such wonderful things he would bring us, tricks he would play, games and puzzles... I miss him. I was dreaming about him, Cassian." He stands, starts scratching at his sides and his nether regions, then puts on his shoes and walks over to the prior night's campfire site to see if anyone has relit it. "What about you? Dream anything strange? I'm feeling hungry. Peckish. Dunno if anyone else is. Maybe a nice pear or peach..." Then he sits back down and starts to put back on his other gear.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
DM
Suddenly the Night lark calls out in distress and flies down to Kaelthors hand flapping wildly. You hear someone on the road running as if their life depends on it, labored breathing. The runner dashes into your camp, help me please, the knights, ambushed. He collapses on the floor trying to breathe normally.
Kaelthor busied himself with quiet hands—shaking dew from the tarpaulin, scattering moss from his resting place back into the undergrowth, tightening straps on his pack. He took the horses by their leads and walked them to the spring, the talisman bound to his staff knocking softly against the ashwood spiral as he moved.
Vardok’s voice carried easily, even through the trickle of water. Kaelthor’s brows drew together as he listened. A dream of Ispin—light, bright, playful. 'Better than mine.' He almost envied it. Dreams had long been strangers to him; what he had seen in the night had felt heavier, older—vision, omen, memory, he could not say. Perhaps only the mind’s wandering. 'Am I so far gone that I cannot tell the difference?'
He shook the thought off with a tug at the reins, guiding the horses to drink. The morning was no place for riddles. There was a road ahead.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Yawning Portal || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan Shi - Liquid Swords || Syed - Drakkenheim || Kaelthor - Dragonlance ||
At the lark’s harsh cry, Kaelthor stiffened, staff already in hand, eyes raking the trees and brush for sign. The bird’s wings battered against his wrist as the runner broke through, voice ragged, body failing. Kaelthor moved at once, lowering the man to sit with his back braced against a log, tugging his cloak loose to ease his breathing. His hands were quick, efficient—clearing space, steadying shoulders—no comfort offered, only what kept life clinging to the body a little longer.
He glanced across the camp, green eyes narrowing, an unspoken question passing to each in turn. Aid, or silence? He knew the answer before they could give it. These companions were Ispin’s friends; they would not turn away. With a sharp breath, he rose. One hand drew his pouch of river stones close, the other tightening on his staff. Without another word, he turned his body toward the road the runner had come from.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Yawning Portal || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan Shi - Liquid Swords || Syed - Drakkenheim || Kaelthor - Dragonlance ||
DM
Berthan
I'll look after the camp, go and find out what's happened, says Berthan and he takes the horses reins and lets them drink their fill.
Levna
Knights? We must aid them! She hurriedly pulls on her armour, strapping it tightly in place, then she follows Kaelthor.
Liwen slept relatively well though the urgent call wakes him. He scrambles up and hurriedly follows the others checking the strap on his spellbook as he quickly moves with hair unkempt and out of place. He makes sure to lag a bit behind as he knows he is not meant to be fighting toe to toe with anyone.
Salty
The gnome had just finished putting his pack back together when the stranger stumbled into the camp. He had initially gone to see if the traveler was alright as well when Levna gave order to assist. He quickly gave the runner a once over (Medicine: 18) and then felt a little uneasy. It was as if a tiny part of himself passed through his fingers/hands into the man (Spare the Dying, if Reorx allows just in case). The feeling passed quickly though, "By Reorx' will...cannot dwell on that right now. Focus on what's important."
He then scoops up his gear and heads out with the others, talisman close at hand.
Vexi
The kender groans as Kaelthor wakens the camp at dawn. "Seriously? Dawn? Can't we at least wait till the birds wake us? And then make time for a nice leisurely breakfast? We made good time yesterday, we'll be fine, especially now that we have horses!"
The thought of riding Sprite suddenly occurs to her and she springs herself up, reading herself for the continued journey. But as the fallen knight comes and the night lark.. she pauses in mid gathering. She stands up, leaving her bedroll where it lay and heads to the edge of the forest, following the rest but trying to stay hidden.
Stealth: 12
Cassian
The knight's expression shifts to one of sympathy as Vardok describes his dream, thinking back to his memories of Ispen as well. He opens his mouth to reply, but the runner stumbles into camp before he can. Immediately slipping into rescue mode, he grabs his pack and starts heading into the indicated direction, taking the lead as duty demands.
"An ambush... Disgraceful, but saving the knights takes precedence if we must choose between that or vengeance."
| Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep | Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia | Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren | Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron | Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault | Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts | Cassian - Human Paladin - Dragonlance |
DM
The young man feels better and he is no longer breathless, Saltys touch had cured him.
I'm Rhys, I can show you the way he insisted. They paid me to tend their horses and drive the wagon, we must hurry.
Rhys leads the characters down the road. As you approach the place where the ambush happened Rhys refused to go further, just around the bend. You hear the sound of steel hitting steel. You are not too late.
A wagon lies toppled , surrounded by armoured corpses. Strange figures pick through the remains. From beneath the figures dark cloaks just scaly wings and sharp, reptilian features. One holds a staff. The smell of ozone is in the air, a lightning spell. You can see black soot on armour where it had hit.
Their magic user stares at you then details two of his warriors to fight you whilst he and the other three slip away. They slit the throat of the remaining knight, and turn their leering faces towards you, you feel a touch of fear shiver down your backs.
One stands next to the wagon on the right, the other stands next to the fallen knight on the left.
Party Initiative 16
Draconians 2
Your turn.
Kaelthor’s eyes swept the carnage as they came upon it—the toppled wagon, scorched armour, blood already darkening the dirt. His breath drew sharp through his nose as he marked the knights. One still twitched—the throat cut. The others lay in silence. Is there anything left for him to mend? He wonders.
His hand dipped into the pouch at his hip, drawing out three smooth pebbles, river-worn. He rolled them across his palm, thumb pressing each in turn as he whispered a low rasp of words. Faint green veins traced over the stone like roots seeking soil, then faded, leaving a subtle weight behind (cast Magic Stone).
He snapped one between forefinger and thumb and sent it whipping toward the nearest draconian. The pebble struck like a slingstone, primal force behind its modest shape (hits AC 16 for 7 damage). Without waiting to see its mark, Kaelthor stepped back, slipping behind a spray of brush at the roadside, staff held ready in his other hand. The foliage shivered as he pressed into cover, eyes already measuring the distance for his next throw.
Bonus: cast Magic Stone
Action: spell attack with infused pebble, hits AC 16 for 7 damage
Move: tries to get out of range 65-70ft away if possible and behind light cover if available.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Yawning Portal || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan Shi - Liquid Swords || Syed - Drakkenheim || Kaelthor - Dragonlance ||
Cassian grits his teeth, shaking with rage before he forces himself to take a steadying breath and draw his trident. Draconians, murderers! He says nothing - the monsters could not be reasoned with even if he could speak their accursed language. He rushes toward the nearest enemy and levels a piecing blow at it, hoping to knock the creature to the ground so his companions can finish it more easily. Then a flash of divine energy pulses from him, attempting to force the other scaly warrior to focus on him.
Action: trident to hit 18 with inspiration, damage 5 and topple (DC 14 Con)
Bonus Action: compelled duel on the next closest draconian, DC 14 Wis.
| Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep | Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia | Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren | Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron | Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault | Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts | Cassian - Human Paladin - Dragonlance |
DM
Kaelthors river stone hit true and opened a gash just above the eye of the Draconian on the left. As with all headwounds it gushed blood. (Draconian now fights with disadvantage).
Shortly afterwards Cassian thrusts a trident into its side grazing the ribs through armour, the draconian staggers and falls from the force of it. For the moment it is prone.
The other draconian by the wagon throws up its sword and shouts a challenge!
Liwen
Seeing the grisly scene he outstretches his right hand with his left on his spellbook. Fire blossoms in his hand before hurtling towards the enemy.
Cast fire bolt - standing draconian
14 to hit 1 fire damage
Movement: He then moves to any nearby cover: tree, boulder, bush.
Salty
Relieved that Ryhs seemed no longer in distress but a little unsure of where or what the exact reason was Salty follows the man to the location of the attack. The initial sight sets him aback. He had seen minor injuries aboard ship before, but knights slain...and by draconians, that was all new to him. For some reason it angered him, and he felt compelled to act, maybe rashly.
With little thought, he rushed forward and followed Cassian's lead. He drew forth his light hammer (used mostly for crafting) from his belt and swinging it with both hands, attempted to clobber the prone combatant.
Light Hammer Attack: 22, Damage 4.
Vardok
Vardok comes around the bend, running at the sound of trouble. He loads a stone into his hoopak as he goes, and when he sees the scene, he starts to take aim. He hurls the stone at the standing draconian, grunting as he does so. “Foul beast, murderer! You must pay for what you have done here!” He feels the stone go flying through the air, aiming to knock out the second draconian.
Hoopak : 18 to hit, for 5 points of bludgeoning damage to the standing draconian.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Vexi
Knowing she wasn't stealthy enough to hide from these brutes, the kender steps out from behind the trees and looses an arrow from her shortbow at the one standing, following the stone Vardok sent.
Attack: 12, Damage: 5
DM
Liwen watches his firebolt catch the draconians cloak alight but otherwise no damage, he ducks safely behind a bush.
Saltys light hammer attack dents the helmet of the draconian, he screams his agony, his eyes momentarily blink with inner lids and you see one eye pupil is bigger than another. Concussion.
Vardoks stone hits the standing draconian in the face, knocking the loose helmet off. His long nose is bleeding liberally down his armour plate.
Vexi soon follows up with an arrow, which sadly glances the armour without hitting
Levna strikes at the prone draconian, her longsword slicing through his neck. She is unable to draw it out again and watched the draconian turn to stone with her sword lodged into it. She quickly lets go of the sword and draws a small dagger