For the past several days, you have been traveling a road that winds lazily across the rolling grasslands of the Greenfields. The sun is still high in the sky, and the cart you and your companions ride on bucks slightly at the occasional rock which has worked its way loose from the otherwise smooth road. The driver tells you that you should expect to reach Greenest before nightfall.
The cart is fairly small, barely enough room for you, the driver, and your four companions. It is a simple affair, a flat wooden bed with a bench on either side facing towards the center. Behind you, the walls of the cart rise another foot or so, just enough for you to lean back and make yourself comfortable. It is pulled by two horses, trotting along happily, occasionally shaking insects away from their heads with a whinny, or leaving a lovely brown gift for the travelers which may come behind you.
Take this opportunity to briefly introduce your character. How have you comported yourself the last couple days traveling?
Urokris sat leaning back against the wall of the wagon, his solid white-gold eyes looking off back towards the trail they had come from, watching the rolling plains as they passed by. His shoulders were hunched in the small space of the cart, wearing black chainmail over a grey gambeson, and over it all was a green surcoat that had a roaring black dragon's head on the center. On his left shoulder there was a pauldron that had a convex neck guard near its top and on his hands he wore lobstered gauntlets of dark steel. He remembered hiring the cart driver a little ways beyond the roadside inn where he'd been lodging, and since the cart was headed towards Greenest, as he was, he hired it and found others riding it as well. Little and less had been said by him ever since he got on, his mind too focused on his personal drama and the way it had completely ruined what plans he had for a simple life. With a sigh, he rolled his shoulders and looked back inside the cart.
"Urokris," he said, at last, "my name. A pleasure to meet you all."
To this point, Quarion had been uncharacteristically quiet, sitting in the wagon, idly doing sleight of hand tricks with a gold coin. He was physically and emotionally exhausted, between the anxiety over his kidnapped friend, and the days of sleep deprivation he had endured while he found his way here. As Urokris introduced himself, however, a switch seemed to flip and he reverted to his typical gregarious demeanor and with a twinkle in his eye, held out a hand and said, "Darvin. Darvin Rein." He had no particular reason to conceal his identity to these strangers --- it's not as though they were likely to recognize his name if he told it to them --- it was just such a firmly embedded habit at this point, that the false name came out more easily than his own. "So, what brings you to Greenest? Is this business or pleasure?"
"Darvin," Urokris said testing the name out, his face breaking out into a grin showing the sharp teeth. "A pleasure, friend," then at the question he shrugged. "I hear my brothers are there, or at least they were headed in that direction." He offers no more than that and although he was truthful he didn't think it prudent to go about spilling family business to a complete stranger. And as much as he hated his brothers for murdering their father, he couldn't dishonour them by airing their shame to every stranger he met; this was alas a delicate and private matter. "What about you, Darvin? What brings you along in this journey?"
Another razed hamlet. The sight was familiar, almost normal. Skiaceq swooped low, only a few dozen meters above the tallest shack, and absorbed some details of the attack before it zoomed past beneath him. The ratio of bodies to homes was disturbing. Few had escaped. No... there they were, some distance down the road, black cracking statues in the ashen grass. The first few sightings had filled Skiaceq with seething helplessness. These weren't his people, but this pain he knew. Now after many days of this, the feeling was distant. It made his wings feel heavy.
Hours later, he spied horses pulling a cart slowly along on the horizon. Which way was Greenest again? Perfect. About time he rested. He folded his wings and swooped in, unfurling them again and swinging sharply up at the last moment before falling to perch between the driver and passengers. That would surely startle people. Best let them know this was no attack. Skiaceq chirped to clear his throat, recalling how to be friendly in Common.
"Hello! I, Skiaceq, go to Greenest!" Whoops. That was more whistles than he intended. Simplifying his punctuation, he followed with, "Sorry. I not speak Common in time." That didn't sound right. Oh, well, good enough.
Phentallius leaned back in the cart, the smell of salt water filled his nose. It was a smell he simply could not get off of him, no matter what he tried. No matter though, it reminded him of home, and his time spent out on sea. He closed his eyes and imagined the sweet sway of the ocean. He longed for a simpler time, when he no worry of dark alleys and being jumped by strangers. He quickly takes a swig from his flask. Ah yes, that feels great. He quickly glanced up as a bird like creature swooped into the wagon.“Well met everyone, the name is Phentallius Tavgrephor. I am headed to Greenest to lay low and relax, after a strange bunch of cultists jumped me and began speaking all kinds of jibberish.” He takes another swig, and shifts in his armor, trying to get comfortable despite the bruises. With too much on his mind, he tries to tune out the rest of the chatter and prays he gets to Greenest soon.
The small gnome with bright green eyes and fair skin sat in a corner of the cart, working on a tiny mechanical contraption of some sort and generally avoiding direct eye contact. He wore simple clothes, and a bronze holy symbol around his neck. He was sitting upon a chest, and a quarterstaff cut to his size was wedged behind him. When the group began to introduce themselves, he finally looked at their faces and said, "I am Valji, and I also ride for Greenest. But I warn you, the end is near, and it starts in this town...Beware!"
When the giant bird-like creature suddenly appears and lands above him on the cart, Valji nearly jumps out of skin! In the seconds of terror brought about by the surprise, he raises his hands and speaks words of power in an arcane language! A sphere of flame appears in his hand, and he draws back as if to throw the sphere at the intruder. But when the bird speaks, he hesitates, and then lets the flames dissipate harmlessly. "Are you crazy?!!?" Valji yells. "You almost got roasted! Not that some good, fire-cooked chicken wouldn't be really good right about now, but that's not the point! You shouldn't just swoop in and scare decent folk like that!" And a stamp of his little foot to emphasize the point, Valji sits back down and puts his tiny contraption away.
A little time passes in mostly quiet. Near sundown, the cart reaches the top of a rise, giving a clear view of the city of Greenest, just a few short miles away. But instead of the pleasant, welcoming town you expected, you see columns of black smoke rising from burning buildings, running figures that are little more than dots at this distance, and a dark, winged shape wheeling low over the keep that rises above the center of the town. It seems as though Valji is correct; Greenest is under attack!
The horses snort and whinny at the sight and smell of the smoke rising from the city, attempting to speed off in opposite directions while the driver does his best to keep them under control, causing the cart to rock dangerously as it gathers a bit of speed down the hill.
He nods to each as they introduce themselves, grinning at the sudden appearance of an Aarakocra. He'd seen only a couple before during his travels and never one so up close, but the reaction from Valji at his appearance caused him chuckle deeply. "Skiaceq," he said, testing out the name awkwardly on his tongue, "I like you." He was about to say more when the cart suddenly lurched causing him to grunt. He turned and suddenly he saw the black smoke rising from the city and a winged creature over it, his eyes widening with both fear and a hint of reverence. Was that a... a dragon? He stood from the bench and peeled his eyes away from the wheeling beast in the sky to the people running out, the screams faintly reaching his ears. Spilling out a series of curses, he looked down towads Valji, his eyes scales bristling; how in the nine hells did that gnome know this was going to happen?
The cart continues down the hill a while before the driver finally manages to get it under control, slowing to a stop at the base, a short distance from the city. "What's going on over here?! I didn't sign up for this!" he exclaims. "I'll drop you here if you want. There's no way I'm going into that city right now!"
Before you you can see the town a little clearer. Most of the homes, made of stone, seem to be unsinged, but the barns and haystacks scattered around town are all up in flames. In the distance you can see what appears to be small creatures and robed figures ransacking abandoned houses, while the occasional townsperson can be seen fleeing deeper into the city, perhaps to some central building. To the south you can see the stream which supplies the cities water, and ahead is the main path leading into the city. A path which both driver and horses are hesitant to approach. At this point, it's fairly dark, and the city is dimly lit only by the full moon above and the angry red glow of various fires throughout.
Urokris watches the mayhem for a moment then jumps down from the cart, pulling out his greatsword from its sheath. "You lot seem the capable type," he says turning to them, "I'm going into that fray and helping those poor sods yonder. On your honour, lads, will you help me?"
As Urokris began his question, Quarion was readying some or other story about being a traveling merchant. "Oh, me? I'm just..." when the welcome distraction of an Aarakocra landing on the cart saved him the trouble.
Later as the cart closed in on the town and the sights and smells of smoke, Quarion felt his heart race. What had he gotten himself into? He could certainly hold his own in a tavern, second to none when it came to drinking and talking, but when it came to physical violence, well, let's just say he preferred to rely on his rapier wit to defuse the situation rather than have to use his actual rapier. Looking at the destruction before him, though, he guessed that wasn't going to be an option this time. It looked like a few of this motley crew of traveling companions could handle themselves in a fight, though, so he calculated that he'd likely be better off if he stuck with them, for the time being, at least.
"Oh ...Oh!! It's coming true - the nightmare is true! Frizzlespit...we have to help these people. Let's go, meatshields!" With that proclamation, he grabs his quarterstaff and the chest and makes his way off of the cart. He will find an out-of-the-way place to stash the chest, then speaks another arcane phrase.Armwr grym! A shimmering field surrounds the gnome, and he looks at the scene before him. "Let's get those creatures over there - the ones ransacking homes!"
Phentallius looks up as the cart begins to get rough. “Damn it, I just wanted some peace and quiet! “ He lets out a deep sigh. He grabs a moon shaped amulet and tucks it in his shirt as he says a quick prayer. “Auril guide us with your moon light.” He dons his shield and pulls the trident off of his back, as the Dragonborn leaps over the edge of the cart. “I’m going to like this lot! ” “Quick, we must get to the villagers!” He then rushes forward into the night alongside his new companions.
"Alright, why not? What do I have to lose?" Quarion says. He is now fully snapped out of his earlier uncomfortably contemplative state and fully in the present moment. He runs after the group making a point to stay well behind Phentallius and Urokris.
With a war cry he runs forward, his heavy footfalls thumping into the ground with every step he takes, every second drawing him closer into the thrill of battle. How long had it been since he was in a charge, he wondered, how long was it when he crashed into enemy lines spewing acid into their faces from his maws, hearing their screams of pain, he had turned his back on all of it for a simpler life and now fate saw to it that he return to violence, his body eager for the splashes of blood, his arms tensing in anticipation for the raw strength required for his swings. Suddenly, his years of training were coming back to him, slowly trickling into his muscles like a small stream threatening to overwhelm whatever was holding it back, memories flashed in his minds eye; the hours spent on footwork, on various combinations over and over until it seemed he could do it on instinct alone and in his sleep, the experience from pitched battles, all of it coming back. A part of him reveled in it, welcomed it, and a part of him wanted to flee from, to go back to a life of peace without death and war. And yet there he was, running to slaughter these mad robed figures who sought to terrorize the poor city. With another cry he ran straight towards the city gates.
After Valji has stashed his chest safely in some bushes that managed to escape the flames, everyone makes their way into the city proper, following the charge of Urokris. The heaviest of the fighting seems to have worked it's way slightly inward, and the surrounding area seems eerily quiet when compared to the sounds of screams and metal in the distance. Without warning, five humans dash out from between two buildings on the left. A limping man and three young children race across the street into more shadows, and a woman carrying a round shield and a broken spear turns and faces back in the direction from which they came. Eight kobolds stream out of the alley on the family’s heels and fan out around the woman, who looks determined to delay the creatures for as long as possible.
The creature seeming to lead the group, a small yet bulky horned lizard you, taunts the woman in a screeching Common. "Brave you are, woman. Not enough. Kill you. Then the small ones!" The Kobolds all let out high pitched squeals... laughs as far as you can tell, as the leader slashes at her with a dagger. The woman barely blocks it in time with her shield.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The smoke chokes Skiaceq's narrow nostrils, but escaping to the air will put him too far away to help. He hurries after Urokris and tells himself the sensation of soot staining his feathers is only imagination. There are more important things to worry about. Upon seeing the kobolds' assault, his instincts move him to action. He stops an instant later. 'Patience,' he cautions himself internally. Ducking in the shadow of a building, Skiaceq surges upward and takes perch on the roof overlooking the barbarous creatures.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Urokris Kral
Seeing the sudden surge of people from his left causes him to slow down and eventually stop. He watches as the eight kobolds enter his sight, fanning out towards the woman and without missing a step he draws closer, and spews his [Tooltip Not Found] massive cone of acid towards the kobolds, then immediately steps up to one and elegantly, as though he were performing some sort of art, swings his sword in an arch over his head, then towards the side in an effort to catch the kobold's neck and shoulder.
For the past several days, you have been traveling a road that winds lazily across the rolling grasslands of the Greenfields. The sun is still high in the sky, and the cart you and your companions ride on bucks slightly at the occasional rock which has worked its way loose from the otherwise smooth road. The driver tells you that you should expect to reach Greenest before nightfall.
The cart is fairly small, barely enough room for you, the driver, and your four companions. It is a simple affair, a flat wooden bed with a bench on either side facing towards the center. Behind you, the walls of the cart rise another foot or so, just enough for you to lean back and make yourself comfortable. It is pulled by two horses, trotting along happily, occasionally shaking insects away from their heads with a whinny, or leaving a lovely brown gift for the travelers which may come behind you.
Take this opportunity to briefly introduce your character. How have you comported yourself the last couple days traveling?
Urokris Kral
Urokris sat leaning back against the wall of the wagon, his solid white-gold eyes looking off back towards the trail they had come from, watching the rolling plains as they passed by. His shoulders were hunched in the small space of the cart, wearing black chainmail over a grey gambeson, and over it all was a green surcoat that had a roaring black dragon's head on the center. On his left shoulder there was a pauldron that had a convex neck guard near its top and on his hands he wore lobstered gauntlets of dark steel. He remembered hiring the cart driver a little ways beyond the roadside inn where he'd been lodging, and since the cart was headed towards Greenest, as he was, he hired it and found others riding it as well. Little and less had been said by him ever since he got on, his mind too focused on his personal drama and the way it had completely ruined what plans he had for a simple life. With a sigh, he rolled his shoulders and looked back inside the cart.
"Urokris," he said, at last, "my name. A pleasure to meet you all."
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
Quarion Dumein
To this point, Quarion had been uncharacteristically quiet, sitting in the wagon, idly doing sleight of hand tricks with a gold coin. He was physically and emotionally exhausted, between the anxiety over his kidnapped friend, and the days of sleep deprivation he had endured while he found his way here. As Urokris introduced himself, however, a switch seemed to flip and he reverted to his typical gregarious demeanor and with a twinkle in his eye, held out a hand and said, "Darvin. Darvin Rein." He had no particular reason to conceal his identity to these strangers --- it's not as though they were likely to recognize his name if he told it to them --- it was just such a firmly embedded habit at this point, that the false name came out more easily than his own. "So, what brings you to Greenest? Is this business or pleasure?"
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
Urokris Kral
"Darvin," Urokris said testing the name out, his face breaking out into a grin showing the sharp teeth. "A pleasure, friend," then at the question he shrugged. "I hear my brothers are there, or at least they were headed in that direction." He offers no more than that and although he was truthful he didn't think it prudent to go about spilling family business to a complete stranger. And as much as he hated his brothers for murdering their father, he couldn't dishonour them by airing their shame to every stranger he met; this was alas a delicate and private matter. "What about you, Darvin? What brings you along in this journey?"
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
Another razed hamlet. The sight was familiar, almost normal. Skiaceq swooped low, only a few dozen meters above the tallest shack, and absorbed some details of the attack before it zoomed past beneath him. The ratio of bodies to homes was disturbing. Few had escaped. No... there they were, some distance down the road, black cracking statues in the ashen grass. The first few sightings had filled Skiaceq with seething helplessness. These weren't his people, but this pain he knew. Now after many days of this, the feeling was distant. It made his wings feel heavy.
Hours later, he spied horses pulling a cart slowly along on the horizon. Which way was Greenest again? Perfect. About time he rested. He folded his wings and swooped in, unfurling them again and swinging sharply up at the last moment before falling to perch between the driver and passengers. That would surely startle people. Best let them know this was no attack. Skiaceq chirped to clear his throat, recalling how to be friendly in Common.
"Hello! I, Skiaceq, go to Greenest!" Whoops. That was more whistles than he intended. Simplifying his punctuation, he followed with, "Sorry. I not speak Common in time." That didn't sound right. Oh, well, good enough.
Skiaceq - Lvl3 | Aarakocra | Monk - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
Phentallius leaned back in the cart, the smell of salt water filled his nose. It was a smell he simply could not get off of him, no matter what he tried. No matter though, it reminded him of home, and his time spent out on sea. He closed his eyes and imagined the sweet sway of the ocean. He longed for a simpler time, when he no worry of dark alleys and being jumped by strangers. He quickly takes a swig from his flask. Ah yes, that feels great. He quickly glanced up as a bird like creature swooped into the wagon. “Well met everyone, the name is Phentallius Tavgrephor. I am headed to Greenest to lay low and relax, after a strange bunch of cultists jumped me and began speaking all kinds of jibberish.” He takes another swig, and shifts in his armor, trying to get comfortable despite the bruises. With too much on his mind, he tries to tune out the rest of the chatter and prays he gets to Greenest soon.
Valji
The small gnome with bright green eyes and fair skin sat in a corner of the cart, working on a tiny mechanical contraption of some sort and generally avoiding direct eye contact. He wore simple clothes, and a bronze holy symbol around his neck. He was sitting upon a chest, and a quarterstaff cut to his size was wedged behind him. When the group began to introduce themselves, he finally looked at their faces and said, "I am Valji, and I also ride for Greenest. But I warn you, the end is near, and it starts in this town...Beware!"
When the giant bird-like creature suddenly appears and lands above him on the cart, Valji nearly jumps out of skin! In the seconds of terror brought about by the surprise, he raises his hands and speaks words of power in an arcane language! A sphere of flame appears in his hand, and he draws back as if to throw the sphere at the intruder. But when the bird speaks, he hesitates, and then lets the flames dissipate harmlessly. "Are you crazy?!!?" Valji yells. "You almost got roasted! Not that some good, fire-cooked chicken wouldn't be really good right about now, but that's not the point! You shouldn't just swoop in and scare decent folk like that!" And a stamp of his little foot to emphasize the point, Valji sits back down and puts his tiny contraption away.
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
A little time passes in mostly quiet. Near sundown, the cart reaches the top of a rise, giving a clear view of the city of Greenest, just a few short miles away. But instead of the pleasant, welcoming town you expected, you see columns of black smoke rising from burning buildings, running figures that are little more than dots at this distance, and a dark, winged shape wheeling low over the keep that rises above the center of the town. It seems as though Valji is correct; Greenest is under attack!
The horses snort and whinny at the sight and smell of the smoke rising from the city, attempting to speed off in opposite directions while the driver does his best to keep them under control, causing the cart to rock dangerously as it gathers a bit of speed down the hill.
Urokris Kral
He nods to each as they introduce themselves, grinning at the sudden appearance of an Aarakocra. He'd seen only a couple before during his travels and never one so up close, but the reaction from Valji at his appearance caused him chuckle deeply. "Skiaceq," he said, testing out the name awkwardly on his tongue, "I like you." He was about to say more when the cart suddenly lurched causing him to grunt. He turned and suddenly he saw the black smoke rising from the city and a winged creature over it, his eyes widening with both fear and a hint of reverence. Was that a... a dragon? He stood from the bench and peeled his eyes away from the wheeling beast in the sky to the people running out, the screams faintly reaching his ears. Spilling out a series of curses, he looked down towads Valji, his eyes scales bristling; how in the nine hells did that gnome know this was going to happen?
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
The cart continues down the hill a while before the driver finally manages to get it under control, slowing to a stop at the base, a short distance from the city. "What's going on over here?! I didn't sign up for this!" he exclaims. "I'll drop you here if you want. There's no way I'm going into that city right now!"
Before you you can see the town a little clearer. Most of the homes, made of stone, seem to be unsinged, but the barns and haystacks scattered around town are all up in flames. In the distance you can see what appears to be small creatures and robed figures ransacking abandoned houses, while the occasional townsperson can be seen fleeing deeper into the city, perhaps to some central building. To the south you can see the stream which supplies the cities water, and ahead is the main path leading into the city. A path which both driver and horses are hesitant to approach. At this point, it's fairly dark, and the city is dimly lit only by the full moon above and the angry red glow of various fires throughout.
Urokris Kral
Urokris watches the mayhem for a moment then jumps down from the cart, pulling out his greatsword from its sheath. "You lot seem the capable type," he says turning to them, "I'm going into that fray and helping those poor sods yonder. On your honour, lads, will you help me?"
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
As Urokris began his question, Quarion was readying some or other story about being a traveling merchant. "Oh, me? I'm just..." when the welcome distraction of an Aarakocra landing on the cart saved him the trouble.
Later as the cart closed in on the town and the sights and smells of smoke, Quarion felt his heart race. What had he gotten himself into? He could certainly hold his own in a tavern, second to none when it came to drinking and talking, but when it came to physical violence, well, let's just say he preferred to rely on his rapier wit to defuse the situation rather than have to use his actual rapier. Looking at the destruction before him, though, he guessed that wasn't going to be an option this time. It looked like a few of this motley crew of traveling companions could handle themselves in a fight, though, so he calculated that he'd likely be better off if he stuck with them, for the time being, at least.
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
Should he help this scaly stranger wielding a gigantic sword? Quarion decides to hesitate for a moment to see what the rest of the group would do.
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
Valji
"Oh ...Oh!! It's coming true - the nightmare is true! Frizzlespit...we have to help these people. Let's go, meatshields!" With that proclamation, he grabs his quarterstaff and the chest and makes his way off of the cart. He will find an out-of-the-way place to stash the chest, then speaks another arcane phrase. Armwr grym! A shimmering field surrounds the gnome, and he looks at the scene before him. "Let's get those creatures over there - the ones ransacking homes!"
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
Phentallius looks up as the cart begins to get rough. “Damn it, I just wanted some peace and quiet! “ He lets out a deep sigh. He grabs a moon shaped amulet and tucks it in his shirt as he says a quick prayer. “Auril guide us with your moon light.” He dons his shield and pulls the trident off of his back, as the Dragonborn leaps over the edge of the cart. “I’m going to like this lot! ” “Quick, we must get to the villagers!” He then rushes forward into the night alongside his new companions.
"Alright, why not? What do I have to lose?" Quarion says. He is now fully snapped out of his earlier uncomfortably contemplative state and fully in the present moment. He runs after the group making a point to stay well behind Phentallius and Urokris.
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
Urokris Kral
With a war cry he runs forward, his heavy footfalls thumping into the ground with every step he takes, every second drawing him closer into the thrill of battle. How long had it been since he was in a charge, he wondered, how long was it when he crashed into enemy lines spewing acid into their faces from his maws, hearing their screams of pain, he had turned his back on all of it for a simpler life and now fate saw to it that he return to violence, his body eager for the splashes of blood, his arms tensing in anticipation for the raw strength required for his swings. Suddenly, his years of training were coming back to him, slowly trickling into his muscles like a small stream threatening to overwhelm whatever was holding it back, memories flashed in his minds eye; the hours spent on footwork, on various combinations over and over until it seemed he could do it on instinct alone and in his sleep, the experience from pitched battles, all of it coming back. A part of him reveled in it, welcomed it, and a part of him wanted to flee from, to go back to a life of peace without death and war. And yet there he was, running to slaughter these mad robed figures who sought to terrorize the poor city. With another cry he ran straight towards the city gates.
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate
After Valji has stashed his chest safely in some bushes that managed to escape the flames, everyone makes their way into the city proper, following the charge of Urokris. The heaviest of the fighting seems to have worked it's way slightly inward, and the surrounding area seems eerily quiet when compared to the sounds of screams and metal in the distance. Without warning, five humans dash out from between two buildings on the left. A limping man and three young children race across the street into more shadows, and a woman carrying a round shield and a broken spear turns and faces back in the direction from which they came. Eight kobolds stream out of the alley on the family’s heels and fan out around the woman, who looks determined to delay the creatures for as long as possible.
The creature seeming to lead the group, a small yet bulky horned lizard you, taunts the woman in a screeching Common. "Brave you are, woman. Not enough. Kill you. Then the small ones!" The Kobolds all let out high pitched squeals... laughs as far as you can tell, as the leader slashes at her with a dagger. The woman barely blocks it in time with her shield.
The smoke chokes Skiaceq's narrow nostrils, but escaping to the air will put him too far away to help. He hurries after Urokris and tells himself the sensation of soot staining his feathers is only imagination. There are more important things to worry about. Upon seeing the kobolds' assault, his instincts move him to action. He stops an instant later. 'Patience,' he cautions himself internally. Ducking in the shadow of a building, Skiaceq surges upward and takes perch on the roof overlooking the barbarous creatures.
Stealth: 21
Skiaceq - Lvl3 | Aarakocra | Monk - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
Urokris Kral
Seeing the sudden surge of people from his left causes him to slow down and eventually stop. He watches as the eight kobolds enter his sight, fanning out towards the woman and without missing a step he draws closer, and spews his [Tooltip Not Found] massive cone of acid towards the kobolds, then immediately steps up to one and elegantly, as though he were performing some sort of art, swings his sword in an arch over his head, then towards the side in an effort to catch the kobold's neck and shoulder.
Breath weapon: 12 (DC=12)
Attack roll: 13 Damage roll: 11
DM - GA's Baldur's Gate