In the Dock Ward, Ian and Irma watch the half-elf sailor stumbling off in one direction, and the cloaked figure slipping away in another. The paladin moves toward the cloaked figure, stepping out into the street and making himself visible in doing so, but nobody seems to take note of him. Only Gregor, previously unaware of the paladin's presence, sees Irma coming out from around a corner, facing some unseen opponent with weapon half-raised.
Irma follows along in the shadow's last known direction.
Ian will also follow along and cast Faerie Fire on the shadow as Irma approaches to give advantage in case of hostilities. If Irma becomes engaged with the target, Ian will use dissonant whispers. Then he will follow with vicious mockery. Ian will try and signal to Gregor about the shadow and Ian and Irma’s intentions in case it wasn’t clear enough that Ian and Irma were on the hunt.
Gregor Messages Ian, "Do you see our target? What do they look like? Where are they? You can reply to this message in a whisper."
Gregor slips his dagger from its sheath and palms it, ready to attack if needed.
I will say that this Message interrupts Ian as he begins casting Faerie Fire - the bard may allow the spell to be interrupted, and respond as he chooses.
Akai has the Initiative. He is Prone. The rogue and the scarecrow are locked in melee about 10 feet away.
Akai will stand up and launch a Fire Bolt at the Scarecrow - with advantage due to Kobold Pack Tactics. "Kahah! Your turn to feed dragon's fire, straw-man!"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
On a certain street corner in the Dock Ward, a 20-foot cube of air is suddenly illuminated by a vivid violet light, casting into sharp relief a skulking figure who was trying to slip away unseen, provoking a Dexterity saving throw: 10
In a certain wheat field in the Undercliff region, a mote of magical fire streaks through the air and strikes a devilish humanoid ragbag, setting it aflame! The creature unleashes a tortured shriek, dancing madly on its timber legs, momentarily distracted from its assault on the young rogue before it, who seizes the Initiative.
The slinking fellow spotted by Ian and Irma is now limned in dim purplish illumination. At this sudden and startling phenomenon, he breaks into a run, dashing away down a narrow lane that runs around the back of a warehouse. The drunken sailor, meanwhile, has stopped short in his tracks, gaping slack-jawed at the arcane light.
How do our bard, our paladin, and our wizard proceed?
On a certain street corner in the Dock Ward, a 20-foot cube of air is suddenly illuminated by a vivid violet light, casting into sharp relief a skulking figure who was trying to slip away unseen, provoking a Dexterity saving throw: 10
In a certain wheat field in the Undercliff region, a mote of magical fire streaks through the air and strikes a devilish humanoid ragbag, setting it aflame! The creature unleashes a tortured shriek, dancing madly on its timber legs, momentarily distracted from its assault on the young rogue before it, who seizes the Initiative.
Falshen grabs one of his two oil flasks and splashes it onto the burning scarecrow!
[OOG: if I understood the description of oil flasks correctly, simply splashing oil on a creature within 5 feet is an action whereas throwing it is a ranged attack. Falshen is splashing.]
Gregor will make a spell attack roll to strike a wall close to the fleeing figure with Sleep, trying to catch his target in the 20 foot sphere without risking too many lesser creatures ablating the spell's effect.
In a single, swift, fluid motion, Falshen pulls a flask from his belt and bathes the scarecrow in lantern oil, and the flames leap higher! With a shriek like a cry of the damned, the thing of straw and sticks goes up like a Midwinter bonfire, and within a minute the rogue and the sorcerer find themselves standing over a heap of ash and cinders. All that remains of the dreadful thing is the sackcloth head, weirdly intact, the eye holes staring at nothing, the ragged gash of the mouth pulled back in a ghastly grin.
Gregor gesticulates and mutters an arcane command, willing the cloaked figure to Sleep. The spell, however, has no effect, and the suspect flees the scene unhindered - though still glowing.
The slinking fellow spotted by Ian and Irma is now limned in dim purplish illumination. At this sudden and startling phenomenon, he breaks into a run, dashing away down a narrow lane that runs around the back of a warehouse. The drunken sailor, meanwhile, has stopped short in his tracks, gaping slack-jawed at the arcane light.
How do our bard, our paladin, and our wizard proceed?
Irma breaks into a run after the slinking fellow. He will attempt to follow the shadow for as long as he can and see where it goes. Once he catches up to the shadow he will call him out and confront him. His main goal will be to get information from the shadow.
Ian gives chase as well with intent to catch the suspect. He switches tactics to casting Tasha’s Hideous Laughter (wisdom save of 15) once realizing Irma had not intended to chase down the suspect initially.
In a single, swift, fluid motion, Falshen pulls a flask from his belt and bathes the scarecrow in lantern oil, and the flames leap higher! With a shriek like a cry of the damned, the thing of straw and sticks goes up like a Midwinter bonfire, and within a minute the rogue and the sorcerer find themselves standing over a heap of ash and cinders. All that remains of the dreadful thing is the sackcloth head, weirdly intact, the eye holes staring at nothing, the ragged gash of the mouth pulled back in a ghastly grin.
Breathing heavily from fear and adrenaline, Falshen's eyes dart about, scanning the area for any other threats.
In a single, swift, fluid motion, Falshen pulls a flask from his belt and bathes the scarecrow in lantern oil, and the flames leap higher! With a shriek like a cry of the damned, the thing of straw and sticks goes up like a Midwinter bonfire, and within a minute the rogue and the sorcerer find themselves standing over a heap of ash and cinders. All that remains of the dreadful thing is the sackcloth head, weirdly intact, the eye holes staring at nothing, the ragged gash of the mouth pulled back in a ghastly grin.
"Kahah! Our prey leaves a trophy! We keep this as proof of conquest!" Akai crows in triumph before pausing pensively. "Hrm, strange... why this not burn with rest of straw?"
Arcana check as he wracks his brain for information on scarecrows: 9
Investigation check as he picks up and examines the mask for any extraordinary, supernatural, or other odd details: 18
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Athletics check for the mysterious figure in the Dock Ward: 14
Opposing Athletics checks please, from Ian, Irma, and Gregor.
***
In the wheat field, Falshen does not sense the presence of any further foes. Akai, leaning down to grasp the remains of the burlap mask, finds it crumbling away to ashes in his claws. A brief impression of the ghastly grinning face remains in the ground for a few moments, and then fades away. Based on his extensive arcane experience, the kobold determines this is due to Random Creepy Shit, and should not be regarded as a sign of further danger.
Arcana check for scarecrows:
A scarecrow is animated by the bound spirit of a slain evil creature. Hags and witches often bind scarecrows with the spirits of demons, but any evil spirit will do. If its creator dies, the spirit inhabiting a scarecrow either continues to follow its last commands, seeks revenge for its creator’s death, or destroys itself. A scarecrow doesn’t require air, food, drink, or sleep.
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Irma follows along in the shadow's last known direction.
Ian will also follow along and cast Faerie Fire on the shadow as Irma approaches to give advantage in case of hostilities. If Irma becomes engaged with the target, Ian will use dissonant whispers. Then he will follow with vicious mockery. Ian will try and signal to Gregor about the shadow and Ian and Irma’s intentions in case it wasn’t clear enough that Ian and Irma were on the hunt.
Gregor Messages Ian, "Do you see our target? What do they look like? Where are they? You can reply to this message in a whisper."
Gregor slips his dagger from its sheath and palms it, ready to attack if needed.
Initiative: 16
I will say that this Message interrupts Ian as he begins casting Faerie Fire - the bard may allow the spell to be interrupted, and respond as he chooses.
Akai has the Initiative. He is Prone. The rogue and the scarecrow are locked in melee about 10 feet away.
Ian whispers to Gregor,
”Shadowy figure stalking the half-elf. He went down the lane by the rope-maker’s warehouse. Irma is taking point. I’ll light our target up.”
Akai will stand up and launch a Fire Bolt at the Scarecrow - with advantage due to Kobold Pack Tactics. "Kahah! Your turn to feed dragon's fire, straw-man!"
Fire Bolt: 25
Fire damage: 4
On a certain street corner in the Dock Ward, a 20-foot cube of air is suddenly illuminated by a vivid violet light, casting into sharp relief a skulking figure who was trying to slip away unseen, provoking a Dexterity saving throw: 10
In a certain wheat field in the Undercliff region, a mote of magical fire streaks through the air and strikes a devilish humanoid ragbag, setting it aflame! The creature unleashes a tortured shriek, dancing madly on its timber legs, momentarily distracted from its assault on the young rogue before it, who seizes the Initiative.
The slinking fellow spotted by Ian and Irma is now limned in dim purplish illumination. At this sudden and startling phenomenon, he breaks into a run, dashing away down a narrow lane that runs around the back of a warehouse. The drunken sailor, meanwhile, has stopped short in his tracks, gaping slack-jawed at the arcane light.
How do our bard, our paladin, and our wizard proceed?
Falshen grabs one of his two oil flasks and splashes it onto the burning scarecrow!
[OOG: if I understood the description of oil flasks correctly, simply splashing oil on a creature within 5 feet is an action whereas throwing it is a ranged attack. Falshen is splashing.]
Gregor will make a spell attack roll to strike a wall close to the fleeing figure with Sleep, trying to catch his target in the 20 foot sphere without risking too many lesser creatures ablating the spell's effect.
Spell Attack 20
Maximum hit points affected: 16
In a single, swift, fluid motion, Falshen pulls a flask from his belt and bathes the scarecrow in lantern oil, and the flames leap higher! With a shriek like a cry of the damned, the thing of straw and sticks goes up like a Midwinter bonfire, and within a minute the rogue and the sorcerer find themselves standing over a heap of ash and cinders. All that remains of the dreadful thing is the sackcloth head, weirdly intact, the eye holes staring at nothing, the ragged gash of the mouth pulled back in a ghastly grin.
Gregor gesticulates and mutters an arcane command, willing the cloaked figure to Sleep. The spell, however, has no effect, and the suspect flees the scene unhindered - though still glowing.
Irma breaks into a run after the slinking fellow. He will attempt to follow the shadow for as long as he can and see where it goes. Once he catches up to the shadow he will call him out and confront him. His main goal will be to get information from the shadow.
Ian gives chase as well with intent to catch the suspect. He switches tactics to casting Tasha’s Hideous Laughter (wisdom save of 15) once realizing Irma had not intended to chase down the suspect initially.
Breathing heavily from fear and adrenaline, Falshen's eyes dart about, scanning the area for any other threats.
Perception (?) check: 21
Gregor pursues, hoping his half cape will at least somewhat hide his drawn dagger.
"Kahah! Our prey leaves a trophy! We keep this as proof of conquest!" Akai crows in triumph before pausing pensively. "Hrm, strange... why this not burn with rest of straw?"
Arcana check as he wracks his brain for information on scarecrows: 9
Investigation check as he picks up and examines the mask for any extraordinary, supernatural, or other odd details: 18
Athletics check for the mysterious figure in the Dock Ward: 14
Opposing Athletics checks please, from Ian, Irma, and Gregor.
***
In the wheat field, Falshen does not sense the presence of any further foes. Akai, leaning down to grasp the remains of the burlap mask, finds it crumbling away to ashes in his claws. A brief impression of the ghastly grinning face remains in the ground for a few moments, and then fades away. Based on his extensive arcane experience, the kobold determines this is due to Random Creepy Shit, and should not be regarded as a sign of further danger.
Arcana check for scarecrows:
A scarecrow is animated by the bound spirit of a slain evil creature. Hags and witches often bind scarecrows with the spirits of demons, but any evil spirit will do. If its creator dies, the spirit inhabiting a scarecrow either continues to follow its last commands, seeks revenge for its creator’s death, or destroys itself. A scarecrow doesn’t require air, food, drink, or sleep.