You take a scrap of cloth, pressing it into the wound and holding pressure till the bleeding stops, wrapping the wound. You roll him over and pump on his chest, causing him to spit up fluid before falling limp. You press your fingers to his neck, feeling a faint pulse.
Jinara:
You take a deep breath and dash through the smoke. You feel sweat begin to pour down your face before it and the water previously on you begins to evaporate.
Lia/Marcus:
You bolt into the inn, taking shelter within it. You press on through it, finding asylum within the inn. Quinnil steps in behind you and listens as tornado nears. The inn squeaks and groans before a loud crashing noise is heard.
As quickly as possible, and a deft as he can in the rubble, Jinara will do some cool monk stuff and make his way back to the elderly couple. He will run to help lift the woman and say (to the gentleman or Strafe, whichever is in a better position) "Can you take the other side?" Assuming he can, we will make our way through the house as quickly as possible through the widest areas heading back to the front door.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Me Senenir," Senenir says as he helps Nadariel tie up the unconscious but resuscitated elf. He also retrieves the dagger that he threw during the fight and resheathes it. "Who you?" he asks as they finish tying the elf up. As he asks this, he also looks up to see if the tornado has stopped, shifted, or changed in any way.
The elf groans, limp against the tree. Nadariel, you find a spell book wrote in Elvish. Senenir, you look and see the tornado pushing through houses, tearing roofs from them before discarding them into other buildings.
Jinara:
The old man nods, assisting you in lifting the woman. She cries out in pain and terror, tears streaming down her cheek and her eyes puffing up as you hoist her. You see her leg hanging limp. A portion of the roof collapses in, causing the house to shutter as sparks and embers jet up.
Marcus/Lia:
Minutes pass as you hear your hearts racing in your chests, thud thud, thud thud. A young girl cries into her mother's shoulder, cutting through the silence. As you peer out, you see a portion of the inn's face has been pried away. The second floor creaks before crashing down, rubble bouncing off the floor.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Wind still going! Need to stop it!" Senenir shouts at Nadariel in a panicked voice. He then looks around frantically for any other tracks in the area that might lead to whoever started this problem.
Survival: 15
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
I speak elvish, can i see any information about the tornado in the spellbook?
If not, i will summon my wildfire spirit (a small falcon with extra long tail feathers, each feather is a flame) and wake the gaged elf up by casting healing word. Once he is awake i tell my spirit in Sylvan:
„If he tries to flee or attacks, burn him.“
The elf i ask in common:„How do we stop the tornade?“
The Firebird is a small bird with majestic plumage that glows brightly emitting red, orange, and yellow light, like a bonfire that is just past the turbulent flame. The feathers are burning flames that emit a warm glow. The form of the Firebird is that of a smallish fire-colored falcon, complete with a crest on its head and tail feathers with glowing "eyes". It looks beautiful but dangerous, showing no sign of friendliness.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Seeing the elf awake, Senenir will walk up to the elf, pushing Nadariel to the side and grab the elf's hair and pull him upwards. He then lowers himself onto one knee and growls, "How to stop wind storm?" If the elf doesn't respond immediately, Senenir pulls out a dagger and begins inching it closer to the elf's throat as he counts down, "10...7...8...4...3..."
The elf's eyes go wide and he looks to each of you, taking in your question. Senenir presses the dagger to his throat, a small bead of blood emerging from his skin, "I cannot stop it, but I may be able to divert it away from the village. But why should I? My life is forfeit one way or another." He spits on the ground, his eyes squinting as he glares at the pair. Senenir, you saw the tracks from five additional people heading east. Lightning cracks and thunder drones as the elf looks to either party.
Lia/Marcus:
What remains of the second floor is seemingly inhospitable and quite unsteady as you creep up the stairs. The building groans and sways in the wind; in the distance you seen a swirling mass turning southeast, ripping through the village. Quinnil steps up, "If anyone was up here, they'd been toast. I hope the others were able to get people to safety." Lightning cracks and thunder drones as he stops speaking.
Senenir turns to Nadariel "What do 'fofit' mean? Or 'deevert'? Skinny man uses big words..." Senenir squints his eyes and draws his dagger away a little as he presses his mind to try and figure out what this elf is saying. He also leans in and whispers in Nadariel's ear "There are more people east." He counts out the number five on his fingers and shows it to Nadariel. "This many," he whispers.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
„He thinks that he is going to die no matter what he does.“
to the elf i reply: „You divert the Tornado and i let you go. On top of that i’ll take your coat and jewellery and make sure there will be a nameless grave with your stuff and some burned bones in it. We will make it look as if you died here. All you need to do after that is find somewhere to hide.“
„Sure, if he wants to die that is.There are ways to make corpses speak, so the authorities can interrogate his dead remains if they want to. Elf, make your decision, we don‘t have much time.“
21 con check
Lia glances to the whirling wind and doubles their pace to the inn.
Marcus picks up Sendra and sprints to the Inn
Gilgin Hardhammer - Mountain Dwarf Cleric (Forge Domain) - Icewind Dale
Petal - Forest Gnome Druid (Circle of the Land - Forest) - Unsung Heroes of Embera
Nadariel:
You take a scrap of cloth, pressing it into the wound and holding pressure till the bleeding stops, wrapping the wound. You roll him over and pump on his chest, causing him to spit up fluid before falling limp. You press your fingers to his neck, feeling a faint pulse.
Jinara:
You take a deep breath and dash through the smoke. You feel sweat begin to pour down your face before it and the water previously on you begins to evaporate.
Lia/Marcus:
You bolt into the inn, taking shelter within it. You press on through it, finding asylum within the inn. Quinnil steps in behind you and listens as tornado nears. The inn squeaks and groans before a loud crashing noise is heard.
Once the elf is stable, i search his cloths fo any clues how to stop the tornado. (Investigation 15)
„Quick, help me to tie him up. If we wake him up, we can ask him how we can stop that tornado. By the way, i never asked your name .“
I‘ll tie him up sitting up against a tree. I‘ll make sure that he can not move his finger and arms.
Attack: [roll]3d20dl2+6[/roll] Damage: [roll](if([roll:-1:critical], =0, 1d8, 2{1d8}.expand()))+4[/roll] Sneakattack: [roll](if([roll:-2:critical], =0, 2d6, 2{2d6}.expand()))[/roll]As quickly as possible, and a deft as he can in the rubble, Jinara will do some cool monk stuff and make his way back to the elderly couple. He will run to help lift the woman and say (to the gentleman or Strafe, whichever is in a better position) "Can you take the other side?" Assuming he can, we will make our way through the house as quickly as possible through the widest areas heading back to the front door.
"Me Senenir," Senenir says as he helps Nadariel tie up the unconscious but resuscitated elf. He also retrieves the dagger that he threw during the fight and resheathes it. "Who you?" he asks as they finish tying the elf up. As he asks this, he also looks up to see if the tornado has stopped, shifted, or changed in any way.
Perception: 19
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
“What was that?” Marcus wonders as he heads outside to check
Gilgin Hardhammer - Mountain Dwarf Cleric (Forge Domain) - Icewind Dale
Petal - Forest Gnome Druid (Circle of the Land - Forest) - Unsung Heroes of Embera
Lia glances around, wondering what just made the loud crashing sound. Is the inn still standing?
Senenir/Nadariel:
The elf groans, limp against the tree. Nadariel, you find a spell book wrote in Elvish. Senenir, you look and see the tornado pushing through houses, tearing roofs from them before discarding them into other buildings.
Jinara:
The old man nods, assisting you in lifting the woman. She cries out in pain and terror, tears streaming down her cheek and her eyes puffing up as you hoist her. You see her leg hanging limp. A portion of the roof collapses in, causing the house to shutter as sparks and embers jet up.
Marcus/Lia:
Minutes pass as you hear your hearts racing in your chests, thud thud, thud thud. A young girl cries into her mother's shoulder, cutting through the silence. As you peer out, you see a portion of the inn's face has been pried away. The second floor creaks before crashing down, rubble bouncing off the floor.
"Wind still going! Need to stop it!" Senenir shouts at Nadariel in a panicked voice. He then looks around frantically for any other tracks in the area that might lead to whoever started this problem.
Survival: 15
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
I speak elvish, can i see any information about the tornado in the spellbook?
If not, i will summon my wildfire spirit (a small falcon with extra long tail feathers, each feather is a flame) and wake the gaged elf up by casting healing word.
Once he is awake i tell my spirit in Sylvan:
„If he tries to flee or attacks, burn him.“
The elf i ask in common:„How do we stop the tornade?“
The Firebird is a small bird with majestic plumage that glows brightly emitting red, orange, and yellow light, like a bonfire that is just past the turbulent flame. The feathers are burning flames that emit a warm glow. The form of the Firebird is that of a smallish fire-colored falcon, complete with a crest on its head and tail feathers with glowing "eyes". It looks beautiful but dangerous, showing no sign of friendliness.
Attack: [roll]3d20dl2+6[/roll] Damage: [roll](if([roll:-1:critical], =0, 1d8, 2{1d8}.expand()))+4[/roll] Sneakattack: [roll](if([roll:-2:critical], =0, 2d6, 2{2d6}.expand()))[/roll]Marcus looks up at the second floor to see if anyone is there before ushering the other civilians to the cellar
Gilgin Hardhammer - Mountain Dwarf Cleric (Forge Domain) - Icewind Dale
Petal - Forest Gnome Druid (Circle of the Land - Forest) - Unsung Heroes of Embera
"Good plan." Lia says, helping Marcus with that work.
Seeing the elf awake, Senenir will walk up to the elf, pushing Nadariel to the side and grab the elf's hair and pull him upwards. He then lowers himself onto one knee and growls, "How to stop wind storm?" If the elf doesn't respond immediately, Senenir pulls out a dagger and begins inching it closer to the elf's throat as he counts down, "10...7...8...4...3..."
Intimidation: 17
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Senenir/Nadriel:
The elf's eyes go wide and he looks to each of you, taking in your question. Senenir presses the dagger to his throat, a small bead of blood emerging from his skin, "I cannot stop it, but I may be able to divert it away from the village. But why should I? My life is forfeit one way or another." He spits on the ground, his eyes squinting as he glares at the pair. Senenir, you saw the tracks from five additional people heading east. Lightning cracks and thunder drones as the elf looks to either party.
Lia/Marcus:
Senenir turns to Nadariel "What do 'fofit' mean? Or 'deevert'? Skinny man uses big words..." Senenir squints his eyes and draws his dagger away a little as he presses his mind to try and figure out what this elf is saying. He also leans in and whispers in Nadariel's ear "There are more people east." He counts out the number five on his fingers and shows it to Nadariel. "This many," he whispers.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
„He thinks that he is going to die no matter what he does.“
to the elf i reply: „You divert the Tornado and i let you go. On top of that i’ll take your coat and jewellery and make sure there will be a nameless grave with your stuff and some burned bones in it. We will make it look as if you died here. All you need to do after that is find somewhere to hide.“
Attack: [roll]3d20dl2+6[/roll] Damage: [roll](if([roll:-1:critical], =0, 1d8, 2{1d8}.expand()))+4[/roll] Sneakattack: [roll](if([roll:-2:critical], =0, 2d6, 2{2d6}.expand()))[/roll]"What smart man said," Senenir says to the elf aggressively. "Else can I stab it?" Senenir says excitedly to Nadariel as he brandishes his dagger.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
„Sure, if he wants to die that is.There are ways to make corpses speak, so the authorities can interrogate his dead remains if they want to. Elf, make your decision, we don‘t have much time.“
Attack: [roll]3d20dl2+6[/roll] Damage: [roll](if([roll:-1:critical], =0, 1d8, 2{1d8}.expand()))+4[/roll] Sneakattack: [roll](if([roll:-2:critical], =0, 2d6, 2{2d6}.expand()))[/roll]