Danse hovered nearby his former torturer, tattooed hands firmly locked on his scimitars. Without the burning desire to see Gaedren put to justice sated, he assumed a protective stance around the four children guarded by the party; he used to be one of them, after all. The world managed to be dangerous in one way or another. He considers the words of the rioters with muted indifference; to Danse, power was something gained to control others - Gaedren abused his influences for crime. The edges of his lips curled in a smile as the doomsayer approached. He wasn't one to judge for being dramatic - it definitely turned heads, and that was a purpose. He opened a mouth to quip a response, but seeing Kaiseras succinctly get a lid on the situation, he returned to admiring the chaos and panic of the alleyway.
Danse's flashy grin returned as he heard Kurstin's implications. "It seems we are on the same page. I assure you, the last thing I desire is for Gaedren to surface again." He clasped a hand around Gaedren's neck, steering him away from the eyes of the children. "This time, quite literally," he continued, speaking more towards Gaedren this time.
Danse led Gaedren towards the edge of a pier, running a thumb across one of his scimitars and flicking a drop of blood into the water below. "Gaedren, I have a question for you," Danse asked, unsheathing the other scimitar and twirling each. "Do you regret committing the crimes you have?" Danse suddenly slashed across the man's face, spilling more blood in the water to attract the notice of those vicious sharks that patrol the bottom of the floor. "I sure don't," he barks, laughing in his usual, jeering manner. Another slash across Gaedren's features, this time taking little precaution to avoid fatal wounds. Danse's expression rapidly shifted between childish glee, vengeful wrath, and . "I suppose I should appeal to your conscience, but I find myself doubting if you have any left. If you do, you must realize your time is over - and doing good hurt nobody, right? Where'd Yargin likely run off to? What's up with Zellara? Answering for crimes and answering questions are what my life has been devoted to, Gaedren. I do not care to worship the the holy, but I take it upon myself to deliver you to whatever judgement you should receive." If Gaedren seems likely to answer, Danse will allow him to. Regardless, with a final twist, Danse plunged both scimitars into Lamm's chest, contrary to his usual slashing maneuvers. His performance had ended, and he was determined to have his face be the last sight Gaedren saw. A thin smile stretched on the young Half-Elf's tattooed visage. "Say hello to Brock for me, Gaedren. I'm sure he'll set you straight wherever you two end up." After hopefully attracting a mass of sharks, Danse followed Kurstin's advice and ensure Gaedren's bits were too small to be recognized. The usual skip in his step returned as he wandered back towards the party.
Seeing the lunatic move towards the bard, Radgar sighs and turns back to face the growing crowd. Holding his hammer up and pointing it at the preacher the dwarf calls out in a commanding voice 'Back all of ye, or you'll feel the flames of Gond's own forge!' His hammer begins to shimmer with the gathering flames of fury, held at bay through sheer will.
Held action Sacred Flame targeting the lunatic. Dex save 13 or 8 damage to the lunatic. Spell triggers if grapple succeeds.
Seeing the man coming, Kaisaras rolled his eyes as he side stepped the man, avoiding his reach. The man was truly insane if he thought he'd catch him off guard so easily. Ignoring him for a moment, he spoke clearly, "You call me deciever, when it is you who deems to know the ways of an evil God and his followers!? I ask that the people do not lose their senses, and seek the wisdom in your hearts to know that chaos and ruin are not the answer."
Kurstin pulled the small stone from his belt pouch - the one he had prepared before but didn't use in the fishery. He was prepared to activate it if the crowd became a problem... (Kurstin had prepared a small stone with his Magical Tinkering that, when activated, would emit the strong odor of a skunk spraying! If the crowd presses in, he will activate it and toss it into the crowd...kind of like tear gas =D
Danse visibly rolled his eyes at the doomsayer. One entertainer to another, he supposed - outlandish performances were how heads were turned, but even the deranged man's superfluous speech was too cloying for Danse's tastes. More for show and dramatic flair rather than intimidation, Danse quickly unsheathed both scimitars, spinning them through the air a few times, before bringing them down near the dirt of the main road to lean on. He drops to a knee, whispering some comforting words to the poor children trailing after the party - out of anyone, the doomsayer's words would strike fear into them.
Scene #1: Kaisaras watches the man for a moment before speaking plainly, "I don't care what you think I am. Some preaching doom if you're attempting to stop it." After which, he turns back towards the party and continues to travel with them in navigating through the chaotic streets of the city.
Scene #2: As they moved carefully through the streets, Kaisaras couldn't help but click his tongue in equal parts disgust at how quickly people fell to madness, and shame that there wasn't more he could do to stop it. The show with the crowd had been somewhat lucky, as they hadn't been drawn in too deeply by the madness yet, but he doubted such a speech would work on an adrenaline-pumped mob. That said, he does do what he can as they move, calling out to those that seem less far gone to similarly go back to their homes, while giving warning of madmen preaching doom.
As the party finds itself swallowed and surrounded by the boiling chaos of the city, Radgar searches desperately for a port in the storm. Somewhere they can hole up and wait out the worst of the chaos and keep the children safe.
Rounding the corner, Radgar immediately zeros in on the dwarf with the hammer and calls out to the party 'There! Rally on the stout one with the hammer. Two angry dwarves should be enough to set this nonsense right.'
Clapping Danse on the shoulder he whispers under his breath Gond give him the strength of steel and the fury of the forge' Guidance
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Fargrim woke early that morning as usual. He looked around the dank basement storeroom that had been his home for the past months. As usual, he read the letter from Vistra as the first thing he did in the morning, just as it was the last thing he did at night. As he stood up from his straw bed, his joints snapped and creaked. When had he gotten so old?
He trudged up the steep stairs into the tavern kitchen and out to the bar. Grandol, the barkeep would be down soon from his quarters upstairs. Fargrim liked to have some tea ready for him when he came down. He owed the kindly old man a lot. He grabbed some wood to make a fire and noticed a small playing card stuffed among the logs. He picked it out of the pile and looked it over. It wasn’t like any playing card he had seen, more like a picture. A shiver ran through him. It was a chilly morning, and the card would make a good Firestarter.
The rest of the morning went as it always did. The bar filled in the mid-morning and Fargrim went about his job of washing the dishes, sweeping the floors, and tending the fires. It kept him busy and more importantly, kept his mind from wandering.
He knew most of the regulars who came in and greeted them all by name. Fargrim had always been good with names. In the middle of lunch, Fargrim noticed a woman come into the pub. She was about his own age but where he was short and broad bordering on fat, she was tall and slender. He had a face that was broad and flat, like many dwarves, but lacked the traditional beard that most of his brethren wore. Her face contained the wisdom of years but was still beautiful. She wore fine clothes with a headscarf and an inordinate amount of jewelry. If his clothes were ever fine, they had long ago lost that character. He was initially transfixed by her but quickly got back to work. Every time he turned around, she seemed to be looking at him. Watching him.
Fargrim made his way around the tavern clearing the tables and when he got to the woman’s table, she was gone. He cleared her table and found another one of those weird cards. His head snapped around scanning the pub for her. Was this a warning? Nobody knew he was there. He didn’t even look the same. He stuffed the card into his apron thinking he would investigate it later. He got back to work. He liked being able to get the copper pans to gleam as bright as a mirror, but he was always surprised by the face looking back at him. His hair now had more salt than pepper in it and he still wasn’t used to the bald chin. The lines on his face seemed deeper than he remembered.
A raucous clanking of bells broke him from his daydream. He peeked his head out the door to see what was going on. He was greeted with the sights and sounds of chaos. He quickly ducked back inside and yelled to the tavern's proprietor to quickly move into the basement and take cover. "I don't think anyone is after you, Grandol, but I'd rather you stay safe." The barkeep listened to the Dwarf. He understood that his new dishwasher had a lot more experience in things like this than the old barkeeper did.
Fargrim followed down to the basement where Grandol agreed to let him live until he got back on his feet. Fargrim went over to his cot, slung on his chainmail, grabbed his trusty hammer and shield, and disappeared through the trapdoor in the ceiling. He ran back upstairs and asked a few of the patrons to come with him outside to confront a small mob descending on the tavern.
“Give us everything good in there or we’ll destroy the place just like we did the others!” a woman shouted out from the crowd to the agreement of those around her...
“Don’t make me hurt you” he thought. “Do you see this hammer, woman? I have done things with this that would give you nightmares! I have no quarrel with you but if anyone with you takes another step closer, I’ll shatter your ******* kneecap!”
Scene #2: As they moved carefully through the streets, Kaisaras couldn't help but click his tongue in equal parts disgust at how quickly people fell to madness, and shame that there wasn't more he could do to stop it. The show with the crowd had been somewhat lucky, as they hadn't been drawn in too deeply by the madness yet, but he doubted such a speech would work on an adrenaline-pumped mob. That said, he does do what he can as they move, calling out to those that seem less far gone to similarly go back to their homes, while giving warning of madmen preaching doom.
@Kai - Most of the townsfolk seem to ignore you or return your call with a rather rude gesture or two. In one instance, two aging halflings drinking and leaning against a building look up to you in amusement.
“Pah! Dem psychos have no idea what they talkin' about. Ain't that right Rictus?"
"Indeed, Indeed." the one called Rictus replied sagely to the other. He was swaying lightly and leaning pretty heavily against the side of the building; it was pretty obvious that he was not on his first drink.
"Dis is just par for tha course ova here in dis Grand city" The other one began, pausing to spin and lift his arms into the air for dramatic effect; spilling a healthy amount of drink onto the ground. "No Korvosan monarch has eva died of old age. And, no Korvosan monarch has eva produced an heir after being crowned. They call it tha ‘Curse of the Crimson Throne' that they do."
"(hic) That they do!" Rictus chimed in happily, this time splashing himself with his outburst.
"And I've seen it me self twice already. First with King Chadris, tha bloody idiot, and then with Queen Domina tha Great; what a bloody saint she was. Ain't that right Rictus."
"Domina!" was all he replied this time around, cheering to no one in particular.
"And now tha curse got Eodred too the bloody philander. No way in hells would I eva sit in that chair if I got crowned! Ileosa's a goner!”
"Goner!" Rictus cheered again. He quickly became crestfallen when he discovered to his shock that his bottle had mysteriously emptied himself. "(hic) So's me Drink Dee!" he added cheering himself up and laughing once again.
"So no, it's not tha end of tha world tonight; it's a celebration! Of Korvorsa's Grandest Tradition!!"
"Tradition!" Rictus cheered from the side having seemingly procured another drink out of no where.
Danse’s eyes and grin widened at the utter chaos blazing through the city. As one who lived on the streets, this was simply an upgrade to the strife he had endured his entire life - this was only an increase in affect and flair, and Danse was living for it. On another day, he might have even joined the protestors roaming across the city, and perhaps the hour after joined the guards attempting to quell them. Mindless violence was a harsh word for the events, according to Danse. How can you be the individual crazy one in a city gone mad?
The words of the Halflings held no interest to Danse. Superstition and rumors were the air that kept circuses aloft, and he knew very well that they were all but tricks of the mind to weasel the coin from guests. The two gleaming scimitars at his side would probably deter most looters, and that was a philosophy Danse ran with - he stuck to the edge of the party as they waded their way through, offering gleeful laughs and cheers to the madmen and the woman who seemed to call out to the other Dwarf. To Danse, it was some spectacular act, some form of entertainment for him to witness.
Watching the chaos, Kaisaras noted the chorus of voices and egos already filling the street, and didn't attempt to add to it. Rather, he simply peered into the destroyed properties and checked to make sure that the mob hadn't killed anyone. Vandalism was one thing, lynching was another.
Sighing as things turn violent, Kaisaras speaks back to the children, "Stay behind us." As soon as he finishes that, he quickly looks over to the shouting woman and speaks clearly, "I didn't realize that fear justified turning a mob of innocents into bandits! Happy to see that the city guard won't be out of work, but for now, try to get a nap." With those words, he'd cast Sleep on the attackers, making careful aim to make sure it didn't hit the nonaggressive crowd.
"They never listen to reason..." Kurstin said as the antagonists moved forward with violent intent. He pulled a large glass bottle out of his pack, twisted the top, and tossed it in the middle of their new adversaries. The bottle smashed against the cobbled stones, and a liquid rapidly spread under the feet of the leader and three others near her, making the ground extremely slick. Like soapy water on glass or grease on a smooth floor, the four troublemakers found it hard to stay on their feet! "Cool your temper before you do something that you'll regret forever..."
(Each creature standing in this area must succeed on a DC13 Dexterity saving throw or fall prone. A creature that enters the area or ends its turn there must also succeed on a Dexterity saving throw or fall prone. cast on the center 4 enemies, including the leader.)
Danse hovered nearby his former torturer, tattooed hands firmly locked on his scimitars. Without the burning desire to see Gaedren put to justice sated, he assumed a protective stance around the four children guarded by the party; he used to be one of them, after all. The world managed to be dangerous in one way or another. He considers the words of the rioters with muted indifference; to Danse, power was something gained to control others - Gaedren abused his influences for crime. The edges of his lips curled in a smile as the doomsayer approached. He wasn't one to judge for being dramatic - it definitely turned heads, and that was a purpose. He opened a mouth to quip a response, but seeing Kaiseras succinctly get a lid on the situation, he returned to admiring the chaos and panic of the alleyway.
[Scene 1]
Danse's flashy grin returned as he heard Kurstin's implications. "It seems we are on the same page. I assure you, the last thing I desire is for Gaedren to surface again." He clasped a hand around Gaedren's neck, steering him away from the eyes of the children. "This time, quite literally," he continued, speaking more towards Gaedren this time.
Danse led Gaedren towards the edge of a pier, running a thumb across one of his scimitars and flicking a drop of blood into the water below. "Gaedren, I have a question for you," Danse asked, unsheathing the other scimitar and twirling each. "Do you regret committing the crimes you have?" Danse suddenly slashed across the man's face, spilling more blood in the water to attract the notice of those vicious sharks that patrol the bottom of the floor. "I sure don't," he barks, laughing in his usual, jeering manner. Another slash across Gaedren's features, this time taking little precaution to avoid fatal wounds. Danse's expression rapidly shifted between childish glee, vengeful wrath, and . "I suppose I should appeal to your conscience, but I find myself doubting if you have any left. If you do, you must realize your time is over - and doing good hurt nobody, right? Where'd Yargin likely run off to? What's up with Zellara? Answering for crimes and answering questions are what my life has been devoted to, Gaedren. I do not care to worship the the holy, but I take it upon myself to deliver you to whatever judgement you should receive." If Gaedren seems likely to answer, Danse will allow him to. Regardless, with a final twist, Danse plunged both scimitars into Lamm's chest, contrary to his usual slashing maneuvers. His performance had ended, and he was determined to have his face be the last sight Gaedren saw. A thin smile stretched on the young Half-Elf's tattooed visage. "Say hello to Brock for me, Gaedren. I'm sure he'll set you straight wherever you two end up." After hopefully attracting a mass of sharks, Danse followed Kurstin's advice and ensure Gaedren's bits were too small to be recognized. The usual skip in his step returned as he wandered back towards the party.
Zoldier's Curse of the Crimson Throne
Chapter 040 - Deceiver!!
DM Rolls:
Lunatic Grapple Check: 14
Reference Docs & Info
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Seeing the lunatic move towards the bard, Radgar sighs and turns back to face the growing crowd. Holding his hammer up and pointing it at the preacher the dwarf calls out in a commanding voice 'Back all of ye, or you'll feel the flames of Gond's own forge!' His hammer begins to shimmer with the gathering flames of fury, held at bay through sheer will.
Held action Sacred Flame targeting the lunatic. Dex save 13 or 8 damage to the lunatic. Spell triggers if grapple succeeds.
Grapple (acrobatics): 14
Seeing the man coming, Kaisaras rolled his eyes as he side stepped the man, avoiding his reach. The man was truly insane if he thought he'd catch him off guard so easily. Ignoring him for a moment, he spoke clearly, "You call me deciever, when it is you who deems to know the ways of an evil God and his followers!? I ask that the people do not lose their senses, and seek the wisdom in your hearts to know that chaos and ruin are not the answer."
Persuasion: 19
Kurstin pulled the small stone from his belt pouch - the one he had prepared before but didn't use in the fishery. He was prepared to activate it if the crowd became a problem... (Kurstin had prepared a small stone with his Magical Tinkering that, when activated, would emit the strong odor of a skunk spraying! If the crowd presses in, he will activate it and toss it into the crowd...kind of like tear gas =D
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
Danse visibly rolled his eyes at the doomsayer. One entertainer to another, he supposed - outlandish performances were how heads were turned, but even the deranged man's superfluous speech was too cloying for Danse's tastes. More for show and dramatic flair rather than intimidation, Danse quickly unsheathed both scimitars, spinning them through the air a few times, before bringing them down near the dirt of the main road to lean on. He drops to a knee, whispering some comforting words to the poor children trailing after the party - out of anyone, the doomsayer's words would strike fear into them.
Zoldier's Curse of the Crimson Throne
Chapter 041 - Sightseeing
Reference Docs & Info
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Scene #1:
Kaisaras watches the man for a moment before speaking plainly, "I don't care what you think I am. Some preaching doom if you're attempting to stop it." After which, he turns back towards the party and continues to travel with them in navigating through the chaotic streets of the city.
Scene #2:
As they moved carefully through the streets, Kaisaras couldn't help but click his tongue in equal parts disgust at how quickly people fell to madness, and shame that there wasn't more he could do to stop it. The show with the crowd had been somewhat lucky, as they hadn't been drawn in too deeply by the madness yet, but he doubted such a speech would work on an adrenaline-pumped mob. That said, he does do what he can as they move, calling out to those that seem less far gone to similarly go back to their homes, while giving warning of madmen preaching doom.
#3
As the party finds itself swallowed and surrounded by the boiling chaos of the city, Radgar searches desperately for a port in the storm. Somewhere they can hole up and wait out the worst of the chaos and keep the children safe.
Rounding the corner, Radgar immediately zeros in on the dwarf with the hammer and calls out to the party 'There! Rally on the stout one with the hammer. Two angry dwarves should be enough to set this nonsense right.'
Clapping Danse on the shoulder he whispers under his breath Gond give him the strength of steel and the fury of the forge' Guidance
Kurstin will toss his stink stone into the middle of the crowd. (The object continuously emits a noxious odor perceivable up to 10 feet away!)
"Hold your noses as we pass by that stone...trust me!" he says to his party.
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
Fargrim woke early that morning as usual. He looked around the dank basement storeroom that had been his home for the past months. As usual, he read the letter from Vistra as the first thing he did in the morning, just as it was the last thing he did at night. As he stood up from his straw bed, his joints snapped and creaked. When had he gotten so old?
He trudged up the steep stairs into the tavern kitchen and out to the bar. Grandol, the barkeep would be down soon from his quarters upstairs. Fargrim liked to have some tea ready for him when he came down. He owed the kindly old man a lot. He grabbed some wood to make a fire and noticed a small playing card stuffed among the logs. He picked it out of the pile and looked it over. It wasn’t like any playing card he had seen, more like a picture. A shiver ran through him. It was a chilly morning, and the card would make a good Firestarter.
The rest of the morning went as it always did. The bar filled in the mid-morning and Fargrim went about his job of washing the dishes, sweeping the floors, and tending the fires. It kept him busy and more importantly, kept his mind from wandering.
He knew most of the regulars who came in and greeted them all by name. Fargrim had always been good with names. In the middle of lunch, Fargrim noticed a woman come into the pub. She was about his own age but where he was short and broad bordering on fat, she was tall and slender. He had a face that was broad and flat, like many dwarves, but lacked the traditional beard that most of his brethren wore. Her face contained the wisdom of years but was still beautiful. She wore fine clothes with a headscarf and an inordinate amount of jewelry. If his clothes were ever fine, they had long ago lost that character. He was initially transfixed by her but quickly got back to work. Every time he turned around, she seemed to be looking at him. Watching him.
Fargrim made his way around the tavern clearing the tables and when he got to the woman’s table, she was gone. He cleared her table and found another one of those weird cards. His head snapped around scanning the pub for her. Was this a warning? Nobody knew he was there. He didn’t even look the same. He stuffed the card into his apron thinking he would investigate it later. He got back to work. He liked being able to get the copper pans to gleam as bright as a mirror, but he was always surprised by the face looking back at him. His hair now had more salt than pepper in it and he still wasn’t used to the bald chin. The lines on his face seemed deeper than he remembered.
A raucous clanking of bells broke him from his daydream. He peeked his head out the door to see what was going on. He was greeted with the sights and sounds of chaos. He quickly ducked back inside and yelled to the tavern's proprietor to quickly move into the basement and take cover. "I don't think anyone is after you, Grandol, but I'd rather you stay safe." The barkeep listened to the Dwarf. He understood that his new dishwasher had a lot more experience in things like this than the old barkeeper did.
Fargrim followed down to the basement where Grandol agreed to let him live until he got back on his feet. Fargrim went over to his cot, slung on his chainmail, grabbed his trusty hammer and shield, and disappeared through the trapdoor in the ceiling. He ran back upstairs and asked a few of the patrons to come with him outside to confront a small mob descending on the tavern.
“Give us everything good in there or we’ll destroy the place just like we did the others!” a woman shouted out from the crowd to the agreement of those around her...
“Don’t make me hurt you” he thought. “Do you see this hammer, woman? I have done things with this that would give you nightmares! I have no quarrel with you but if anyone with you takes another step closer, I’ll shatter your ******* kneecap!”
22 Intimidation
@Fargrim - Great start!
@Kai - Most of the townsfolk seem to ignore you or return your call with a rather rude gesture or two. In one instance, two aging halflings drinking and leaning against a building look up to you in amusement.
“Pah! Dem psychos have no idea what they talkin' about. Ain't that right Rictus?"
"Indeed, Indeed." the one called Rictus replied sagely to the other. He was swaying lightly and leaning pretty heavily against the side of the building; it was pretty obvious that he was not on his first drink.
"Dis is just par for tha course ova here in dis Grand city" The other one began, pausing to spin and lift his arms into the air for dramatic effect; spilling a healthy amount of drink onto the ground. "No Korvosan monarch has eva died of old age. And, no Korvosan monarch has eva produced an heir after being crowned. They call it tha ‘Curse of the Crimson Throne' that they do."
"(hic) That they do!" Rictus chimed in happily, this time splashing himself with his outburst.
"And I've seen it me self twice already. First with King Chadris, tha bloody idiot, and then with Queen Domina tha Great; what a bloody saint she was. Ain't that right Rictus."
"Domina!" was all he replied this time around, cheering to no one in particular.
"And now tha curse got Eodred too the bloody philander. No way in hells would I eva sit in that chair if I got crowned! Ileosa's a goner!”
"Goner!" Rictus cheered again. He quickly became crestfallen when he discovered to his shock that his bottle had mysteriously emptied himself. "(hic) So's me Drink Dee!" he added cheering himself up and laughing once again.
"So no, it's not tha end of tha world tonight; it's a celebration! Of Korvorsa's Grandest Tradition!!"
"Tradition!" Rictus cheered from the side having seemingly procured another drink out of no where.
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Danse’s eyes and grin widened at the utter chaos blazing through the city. As one who lived on the streets, this was simply an upgrade to the strife he had endured his entire life - this was only an increase in affect and flair, and Danse was living for it. On another day, he might have even joined the protestors roaming across the city, and perhaps the hour after joined the guards attempting to quell them. Mindless violence was a harsh word for the events, according to Danse. How can you be the individual crazy one in a city gone mad?
The words of the Halflings held no interest to Danse. Superstition and rumors were the air that kept circuses aloft, and he knew very well that they were all but tricks of the mind to weasel the coin from guests. The two gleaming scimitars at his side would probably deter most looters, and that was a philosophy Danse ran with - he stuck to the edge of the party as they waded their way through, offering gleeful laughs and cheers to the madmen and the woman who seemed to call out to the other Dwarf. To Danse, it was some spectacular act, some form of entertainment for him to witness.
#2: History Check: 15
#3:
Watching the chaos, Kaisaras noted the chorus of voices and egos already filling the street, and didn't attempt to add to it. Rather, he simply peered into the destroyed properties and checked to make sure that the mob hadn't killed anyone. Vandalism was one thing, lynching was another.
Zoldier's Curse of the Crimson Throne
Chapter 042 - Fargrim Hoghead
DM Rolls:
Danse Initative: 15
Fargrim Initiative: 3
Kaisaras Initiative: 16
Kurstin Initiative: 22
Radgar Initiative: 8
Rioters Initiative: 4
Initiative Order:
Reference Docs & Info
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Sighing as things turn violent, Kaisaras speaks back to the children, "Stay behind us." As soon as he finishes that, he quickly looks over to the shouting woman and speaks clearly, "I didn't realize that fear justified turning a mob of innocents into bandits! Happy to see that the city guard won't be out of work, but for now, try to get a nap." With those words, he'd cast Sleep on the attackers, making careful aim to make sure it didn't hit the nonaggressive crowd.
Sleep dice: 30
"They never listen to reason..." Kurstin said as the antagonists moved forward with violent intent. He pulled a large glass bottle out of his pack, twisted the top, and tossed it in the middle of their new adversaries. The bottle smashed against the cobbled stones, and a liquid rapidly spread under the feet of the leader and three others near her, making the ground extremely slick. Like soapy water on glass or grease on a smooth floor, the four troublemakers found it hard to stay on their feet! "Cool your temper before you do something that you'll regret forever..."
(Each creature standing in this area must succeed on a DC13 Dexterity saving throw or fall prone. A creature that enters the area or ends its turn there must also succeed on a Dexterity saving throw or fall prone. cast on the center 4 enemies, including the leader.)
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
DM Rolls:
Rioter #3 "Leader" Dex Save: 17 (Failed)
Rioter #4 "Leader" Dex Save: 8 (Failed)
Rioter #5 "Leader" Dex Save: 11 (Failed)
Rioter #6 "Leader" Dex Save: 4 (Failed)
(I'll make the results more descriptive in the recap)
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM