Green Demon
It is a fairly miserable day to be outside today. It's not snowing at least, but it's damp and cold enough that it is unpleasant to be out and about in. The ground squelches underfoot, and piles of slush stand on the edges of areas that have seen less sun. Water drips down from the trees which obscure the gray sky and make it seem darker than it actually is. The Felwood isn't particularly well known for being welcoming and it certainly is living up to that today.
Wrapped in his patched cloak, Harshad's expression is somewhat sour, and his hands linger close to his weapon hilts. He hasn't talked much on the way out here, except to answer in fairly monosyllabic fashion, but as the wind blows he mutters, fishing a long-stemmed pipe out of his belt pouch and sticking it in his mouth. "Hells," he grumbles. "Remind me again why we've never burned this place down to the ground?"
Crik was not seeing the miserable part. Having a bit of a hopping stride, the corvid egalrin was trailing after everyone - and when he stands still, tilting his black beak, he might as well as have been part of the scene with his patchwork cloak. Occasionally, he pulls out something from within his cloak, looks at it, and then stashes it away, staring at the dark wood.
This wasn't normally Sloan's scene. Used to being a creature of the streets and alleys, not to mention the realms of below stairs, Valet found himself out here, doing a favor for a friend. Her daughter had wandered off. Gone three days now, the Aesir man had told her he would look. Thus it is that Sloan makes his way this afternoon, his usual stark black and white clothing replaced with Woollen trousers and a heavy tunic of grey, a thick grey traveling cloak wrapped around him, blocking the cold and wind, intense blue eyes peering out from the confines of the hood. He hadn't come out with the adventurers, but he found himself in the same vicinity now.
Carver is astride Malika, a spotted gray mare though in a position that both speaks to comfort in the saddle and a dastardly lack of common sense, leaning forward with arms crossed and nearly perpendicular with her mount's spine. Her bow, as much an omnipresent companion as one could have, is strapped to her saddle guard as well. She smiles, crooked and lazy, at the question of a fire's cleansing. "S'cause tha' would do abou' as much as pissin' in a volcano... look't how wet an' slimy things are 'ere. Like you're steppin' in stew. You'd need some real fire to even get it smolderin'. You jus' try to keep it from spreadin' like a bad rash on ye arse."
Unsure what to expect, Fizzy joins the other adventurers a little warily. After all, none of these Adventurers Guild contracts have been easy or have gone according to plan. The Shadow Elf recognizes Lucius, though, and approaches. "Hey, Luke. It's good to see you again. I don't expect this is going to be as easy as it could be; probably harder. What do you think?"
She's bundled up to the figurative gills, with the usual Xote-shaped bulge against her right leg. No need to freeze the guy until it's absolutely necessary. There's a little motion there, of course, and maybe his shivering is lessening the longer he's experiencing an actually cold winter. For her part, Fizzy's eyes are bright, and despite her apparent trepidation, she seems both curious and cautiously excited.
GAME: Harshad rolls survival: (17)+3: 20 GAME: Fizzy rolls survival: (1)+3: 4 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Carver rolls survival: (20)+10: 30 GAME: Crik rolls survival: (3)+2: 5 GAME: Sloan rolls survival: (10)+2: 12
Lucius plods through the soggy earth on foot, alongside his mount Thunder. His head whips around at hearing talk of burning down the forest. "I'm not sure that would be a very good idea, Harshad," he replies tightly. "And it might not be effective either," he adds in agreement with Carver. He pats Thunder's mane with one hand, and the warhorse flicks an ear in response.
"It's good to see you too Fizzy." He smiles for a brief moment. "To be honest, I have no idea what to expect either. I've heard a little bit about demons, but I've yet to encounter one in the flesh. I think it was wise of the Guild to send so many of us. We should have the strength of numbers, which is sure to help us."
GAME: Lucius rolls Survival: (3)+6: 9
Harshad's face is still stuck in that scowl, and he glances at Carver. "Hells, anything'll burn if you get the fire hot enough. And..." He pauses, trailing off, before hunkering down a little. Drawing a dagger, he points with it at some of the broken ground. "Something came through here. Something big." With a sigh, he pulls the pipe out of his mouth and puts it away again, resigning himself to dealing with this before a smoke break. Looking around, he frowns, and does a double take. "...Anyone know anything about plants? I'm a city boy, but... don't plants usually, y'know, stop growing in winter?"
GAME: Fizzy rolls knowledge/nature: (17)+8: 25
Carver's big dark peepers zip back and forth, and as Harshad draws attention to the unusual behavior of the local biolife, it seems she is in step with his conclusion; that's very strange. "Most plants would struggle in this mess, an' it all does seem a step too lively. An' you're right! Somethin' did come this way an' it's a biggie but it gets worse." She slips off her mare, and quickly strings her bow, lean muscles growing taut beneath dark skin with the well-practiced maneuver. "It knows we know an' wants us to know. It's leavin' signs in ways anyone with half an eye would catch. Obvious intentional patterns. Worse than big and bad it's smart and 'confident'. Thinkin'. It ain't the prey. We is."
Fizzy bends down to comfort herself and Xote by patting the lump. She then turns to the rest of the group. "Hello, I guess we haven't met. I'm Fizzy, and I'm relatively new to the area. Here's hoping we can figure out what's going on and make it better, huh?" Introductions suddenly don't seem to matter when the Half-Oruch makes his observation.
Fizzy frowns and takes a look around. "Well, you're right about that, friend. It could be the effect of something like a spell, such as Plant Growth? I admit, my knowledge is limited, but that *does* seem a likely possibility. Should we keep our eyes open for some sort of wizard or witch or something?"
Coming across the main group of Adventurers, Sloan pauses at the edge of the trees, aside from what appeared to be a long kitchen knife tucked into his belt, the tall Aesir looked to be unarmed. As they stop to check tracks in the snow, the valet looks around warily.
Crik keeps following on after the group. The corvid had not seen any signs - which makes him glance down at his feet, then at the rest of the group, then back down at his feet. Leaning forward, he looks for a moment as if he were going to peck at the ground - but nope, head snaps back up. At Fizzy's introduction, he opens his mouth just a touch, and there is a slow drawn out inbreath - before it is let out with a throaty click. "Crik." Looking around at the group, he holds out his hand. "I'll move forward." He adds, with his deep throaty voice.
Luke's face visibly pales. "It might be good to proceed with caution," he remarks, scanning the surrounding trees for any sign of movement. "We don't know what we're up against yet." He blinks and takes a deep breath.
GAME: Crik rolls stealth: (12)+10: 22 GAME: Carver rolls stealth: (1)+11: 12 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Crik rolls perception: (10)+11: 21 GAME: Carver rolls perception: (18)+10: 28 GAME: Lucius rolls Perception: (7)+6: 13 GAME: Sloan rolls perception: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Sloan rolls Stealth: (4)+7: 11 GAME: Lucius rolls Stealth: (17)+-2: 15 GAME: Harshad rolls perception: (11)+7: 18 GAME: Harshad rolls stealth: (9)+9: 18 GAME: Fizzy rolls stealth: (10)+5: 15 GAME: Fizzy rolls perception: (15)+5: 20
You all take a bit more care in your steps, trying to be stealthy to varying degrees of success. The plants are coming awake as you move along. Becoming green and alive. More and more so until in a clearing ahead of you they spill out in a circle around a mound of growing green vines and other plants.
Harshad comes to a dead stop, seeing the greenery. "That ain't right," he mumbles. Drawing both his rapier and his dagger now, he settles into a crouch. Glancing at the others, he pauses, then says quietly to Fizzy, "Harshad." His eyes move to Lucius -- someone he knows, at least -- and he growls, "I really hope there's no frogs in this one. That workshop had me laid up for a week."
Reasoning that if his friend's daughter has gone missing out here, and there is a large contingent of Adventurers in the area, the two things may be related, Sloan falls in step with the rest of the group. "I do hope it would not be an imposition for me to tag along with your group. I am looking for the daughter of a friend." as the group moves further into the woods and the greenery becomes more lush, he thinks to himself ~Amazing. If there is a gardener responsible for this, I must offer them employment~
"... not natural." Crik helpfully points out, before he quietly pulls out a dagger. Then after a moment of thought, a small hand crossbow. Then after another second of thought, a round orb with a fuse sticking out of it. Yes, that is the solution to all life's gardening problems. The corvid egalrin hops along with his beak slightly ajar.
The witch tries to make herself more alert but she's definitely more cautious. Part of that process is extricating Xote from her layers of warmth so neither is a hindrance to the other, and the capybara can get to a safer space with Fizzy between him and whatever danger they face.
Fizzy glances over and nods once, tensely, at Harshad, whispering a slightly-concerned "Frogs?" Adding a similar single nod to all else who introduced themselves. There's time for real introductions later. She glances at Sloan. "While it's not for me to decide alone, I think we're going to need all the help we can get."
Carver, briefly, considered trying to slip into the shadows or cover. Then she peeps the heap, and her eyes narrow to suspicious slits. Aw, hell with it. She'd have to introduce herself later because instead, she plants her feets cocks a hip and thrusts an accusatory finger. No, not at Sloan who arrives just in time for trouble somewhat suspiciously. Instead, right at the mound. "Oi, creepy! I knows ye can hear an' see us, with your ole' dawdlin' self. Spare us and yourself a righ' bit of trouble an' come out before we measure everyone's bootsize to decide whose foot would fit best in ye arse."
Luke swings onto Thunder, gripping his lance in one hand and shield in the other. "It might not be frogs," he comments. He quickly nods a greeting at Sloan. "You're more than welcome to join us."
As if in response to Carver's challenge the mound rises up. It certainly _looks_ demon-ish whatever it is. Horns grow up off its head, a long tail lashes behind it, and it has a pair of wings that beat gusts of wind. However there's something off about it too. It's big. It lets out a bellow at you, and then several hisses and clicks that might be some form of communication that - none of you understand. Whatever this thing is, it's _covered_ in vines and plants. As if they've gone haywire. You can't see one square inch of its body that isn't covered in plant-life.
GAME: Harshad rolls Will: (19)+2: 21 GAME: Lucius rolls Will: (13)+2: 15 GAME: Fizzy rolls will: (3)+6: 9 GAME: Carver rolls will: (17)+4: 21 GAME: Crik rolls will: (10)+2: 12 GAME: Sloan rolls will: (1)+2: 3 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Carver rolls ranged: (2)+8: 10 GAME: Carver rolls ranged at -1: (4)+ranged at+-1: 3
As the large creature begins to rise from the earth, Sloan's eyes go wide. Stance squaring up he mutters in an uncharacteristic street vernacular. "Sod this Shit!" as he begins backing away, looking for a clear avenue away.
"What the--" Harshad rears back, eyes widening as the heap of vegetation doing its monster impersonation lurches up and towards them. "Crap! Crap! Lucius, see if you can get his attention, I'm going to come around!" And then the half-oruch is moving, blades held parallel to the ground as he circles around the monstrous thing.
GAME: Crik rolls ranged: (6)+5: 11 GAME: Crik used a Alchemist's Fire. GAME: Crik rolls 1d6: (2): 2
The rising, living mound is like nothing Fizzy's ever seen before in her life, and she's certainly never faced it in combat! She lets out a terrfied scream and turns tail and flees directly away from that thing. Nevertheless, her mind's processing it, trying to figure out how to handle it, how to conquer that panic, how to aid those who might need her in the small support she can provide. It's gonna take a few seconds, though. And while she's at it, Xote tears along at her side, as best a little fella can, as he tries to offer comfort, encouragement, and even persuasion to his witch. Even he can see she's needed.
GAME: Lucius rolls Will: (19)+2: 21
Crik looks up at the demonic being rising with unblinking eyes. Orb in hand, he quietly sets it on fire and flings it forward. He continues staring at the thing before the fire bomb hits - and the alchemist's fire begins to spread across the creature's... plant... things. A loud caw is let out from his mouth.
GAME: Lucius rolls Bluff: (5)+5: 10 GAME: Crik rolls reflex: (7)+7: 14 GAME: Sloan rolls reflex: (17)+6: 23 GAME: Carver rolls reflex: (18)+8: 26 GAME: Harshad rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (11)+7: 18 GAME: Crik rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (11)+7: 18 GAME: Lucius rolls Reflex: (14)+1: 15
The demon's terrifying presence, his friends' initial reactions. From his saddle, Luke surveys the battlefield. He raises the tip of his lance and points at the head of the plant-covered creature. "You really think you can take on all of us combined?" he shouts, urging Thunder into a charge.
Then everything goes wrong. The creature somehow erupts in flame, and Luke all but screams. He squeezes on the reins, commanding Thunder to a stop, and the warhorse whinnies in confusion. "Harshad, I can't!" His voice is sheer panic.
The creature roars again, more hissing spilling out of it's mouth. The sound is choked and garbled. The creature motions one claw covered in vines toward the group and plants rise up and attack those gathered. None are captured by them, but they continue to grow wildly...
GAME: Carver rolls ranged: (16)+8: 24 GAME: Carver rolls ranged: (13)+8: 21 GAME: Carver rolls 1d8+2: (7)+2: 9 GAME: Carver rolls 1d8+2: (7)+2: 9
Carver cusses as she's down two arrows, and straightens her spine against the terrifying visage of a hill trying to kill you while it is on fire. Her soft exhale is complete with a pair of arrows that stud into the creature's side. Of questionable value but she didn't think to bring fire.
Stopping himself in flight, Sloan snarls quietly to himself. "Not, the way for a gentleman to behave Sloan." Squaring his shoulders, the Valet turns and begins sprinting back towards the Melee as he shouts. "Apologies! I shall assist presently!" his hand slipping into his pocket and coming out once more, fingers wreathed in brass.
GAME: Harshad used a Acid. GAME: Harshad rolls ranged: (6)+6: 12 GAME: Harshad rolls 1d6: (3): 3
Harshad's eyes almost bug out, and he shouts, "Are you fucking kidding me?!" From the angle he's at, his eyes trace the line of the thing, and his heavy brow furrows. "Of all the gods forsaken stupid..." His words dissolve into a blistering string of Oruch imprecations, as he pulls a small vial from his belt. Whirling his arm, he throws it and it shatters, the corrosive fluid blackening plants but not injuring the creature. "Hey, topknot! Carver! We gotta get stuck in!"
GAME: Crik rolls weapon2: (19)+5: 24 (THREAT) GAME: Crik rolls weapon2: (10)+5: 15 GAME: Crik rolls damage2: aliased to 1d4+0: (2)+0: 2 GAME: Crik rolls stealth: (19)+10: 29 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+15: (1)+15: 16 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Lucius rolls Reflex: (11)+1: 12 GAME: Sloan rolls reflex: (16)+6: 22 GAME: Carver rolls reflex: (18)+8: 26
The demon hisses in frustration, and anger, motioning again, but the plants fail to capture anyone.
Crik aims the hand crossbow at the plant thing. His eyes were wide orbs of black as his hand lifts up the weapon and carefully measures - but his attention was wholly elsewhere. "Dragon." He says out loud. "Dragon!" He caws a more shrill cry - before he just flat out disappears from sight. Mostly. One can see him running around the burning plant demon.
GAME: Fizzy casts Daze. Caster Level: 2 DC: 13 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+9: (20)+9: 29
Somehow, Xote's insistence and comfort get through to the terrified Fizzy. The elf halts her mad dash away as common sense returns. She collects herself with a deep calming breath and turns back to face the battle. With fortifying personal steel echoing in her blue eyes, she surrounds herself with an all-over glimmer of light that fades. Anyone with any sort of spell knowledge will recognize the basic signature of Mage Armor, even if its initial manifesting appearance is unique to the caster. Thus additionally protected, Fizzy dashes back to participate in the battle, to provide the support she can. She stops short of the plant-life-nastiness and casts the spell Daze, hoping it might have some effect.
Which it doesn't. "Xote! Stay behind me, stay close! Don't go into those scary plants, baby!... Fuck, that didn't go as planned, but at least now I know!"
GAME: Lucius rolls hooves+2: aliased to 1d20-4+2: (14)+-4+2: 12
Lucius groans in distress. "Shit, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry." He looks up at the sky, closes his eyes, and inhales deeply. Dismounting, he hugs Thunder around the neck and points to the demon. "Get 'em for me, Thunder," he murmurs, looking as far away from the creature as possible.
The warhorse hesitates, but only a moment. Thunder charges and kicks at the demon, though to little avail.
Carver is reaching for an arrow, when Harshad identifies her by her hair. She gives him a dark glare, coal-ringed eyes malevolent with undisguised annoyance but... she does swap her bow to the left hand, and encroaches on the Hill Demon's personal space as she draws her handaxe. "Okay, sure, lemme jus' get slapped around by the giant to make your bloody life easier. It's fine, not like I have any ideas of my own or anythin'." She gives it the GRUMBLING CHOP.
GAME: Carver rolls melee: (12)+6: 18 GAME: Crik rolls 1d6: (5): 5 GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0: (20)+6: 26 (THREAT) GAME: Sloan rolls weapon1: (9)+6: 15 GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0: (12)+6: 18 GAME: Sloan rolls 1d6+4: (2)+4: 6
Face contorted in a mixture of anger and determination, Sloan bolts forward. While his mannerisms may have been gentlemanly and refined, his actions were potentially more insane than anything as he drove a linen gloved fist into the mass of vines.
GAME: Harshad rolls 1d20+5+2: (13)+5: 20 GAME: Harshad rolls 1d20+5+2: (14)+5: 21 GAME: Harshad rolls 1d6+2+2d6: (6)+2+(3): 11 GAME: Harshad rolls 1d4+2+2d6: (3)+2+(7): 12 GAME: Crik rolls weapon1: (14)+3: 17
As Thunder charges in while Carver and Sloan advance as well, Harshad grunts. "Yell at me later. I'll buy the drinks." Once the thing is occupied, he steps in as deftly as a dancer, and his rapier and dagger flash into the creature's back. "It's -not a demon!-" he shouts. "I don't know what it is! It's some kinda plant... lizard... dragon thingy!" He rips the blades back out, watching for any counter attack.
GAME: Harshad rolls weapon1+2: (11)+7+2: 20 GAME: Lucius rolls bite+2: aliased to 1d20+1+2: (15)+1+2: 18 GAME: Crik rolls weapon1+2: (3)+3+2: 8 GAME: Carver rolls melee+2: (11)+6+2: 19 GAME: Sloan rolls weapon1: (20)+6: 26 (THREAT) GAME: Sloan rolls weapon1: (3)+6: 9 GAME: Harshad rolls 1d6+2+2d6: (5)+2+(6): 13
Crik moves about the dark woods, keeping low up until he picks up his dagger and _shanks_ - ... thin air, apparently. The corvid looks at his knife, then at the rest of the group. Then back at the dragon. "Plant fire next time." He opens up his beak.
GAME: Sloan rolls 1d4+4: (4)+4: 8
The thing - whatever it is - flees, hissing and snapping into the woods. Several attacks wound it as it takes off, but this time it leaves no trace behind of where it is going. Not even the red blood that had been dripping from its hide.
As she hastily advances to get closer to the brute, Fizzy dances around the defensively entangling terrain to get within reasonable range. But then the vegetable monstrosity lights out and she can only yell harmless obscenities. "Yeah, buddy! Get the fuck out! And stay the fuck out! And don't come the fuck back!"
GAME: Lucius rolls Ride: (11)+2: 13 GAME: Lucius rolls attack+1+1: aliased to 1d20+BAB+Strength+1+1: (6)+2+3+1+1: 13 GAME: Carver rolls ride: (16)+11: 27
The color slowly returns to Luke's face as the creature escapes. He rushes to Thunder and scrambles onto the saddle. "Go!" The warhorse leaps after the dragon and the lance flashes toward its target, but Luke is sitting off-balance and his strike misses wide.
There is a loud, shrill cry like a hawk's when Carver drops her handaxe and brings fingers to her lips. Then she's off, meeting Malika mid-stride and then hyupping right into place with one graceful maneuver. Guiding only with her knees, she takes up pursuit behind Lucius, hair streaming behind her as she whoops mockingly at the retreating abomination.
As the creature begins to run, Sloan throws his cloak off to free himself up and begins to run after the ...dragon...?
Harshad looks dumbfounded as the thing turns to flee. "Hey! HEY! Get back here, you sonofa--" Seeing Carver and Lucius mount up, Harshad just makes a disgusted sound, and starts running after Sloan. Calling back to Fizzy, "Follow us and catch up as you can!"
GAME: Crik rolls weapon2: (17)+5: 22 GAME: Crik rolls damage2: aliased to 1d4+0: (4)+0: 4 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+5: (4)+5: 9
Crik watches the plant-dragon start to flee and rest of the party mount up in pursuit. Moving in less rushed pursuit, he aims his hand crossbow at the beast and takes a sneaky shot at the beast.
The plant-covered creature struggles to open its wings, but they are bound by vines and twisting plants. It struggles to no avail and collapses on the ground with a little light 'thud'. Hissing pours out of it's mouth, but no one can understand.
GAME: Fizzy casts Ear-Piercing Scream. Caster Level: 2 DC: 14 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+9: (5)+9: 14 GAME: Fizzy rolls 1d6: (2): 2
Spurred into action by Harshad's words, Fizzy books it after the motley parade. She ain't got much speed, but she's gonna use it to give chase and maybe cast one of those spells she's got handy. Channeling all that filthy-mouthed cussing into something that may or may not be productive, she lets loose a scream only the dragon can hear. Profanities galore! Too bad y'all can't hear her little chihuahua potty-mouth. Xote faithfully keeps himself close to and behind his Person, blithely ignorant of the foul language she's uttering. Unfortunately, all it does is cause the tiniest little trickle of blood from one ear, and some offended blushing.
GAME: Lucius rolls attack+1+1: aliased to 1d20+BAB+Strength+1+1: (8)+2+3+1+1: 15 GAME: Lucius rolls bite+1: aliased to 1d20+1+1: (13)+1+1: 15
Milaka slows to a trot, with Carver considering the dragon with a thoughtful stare. ‘We were here to investigate but does anyone know what damage this creature has actually caused?”
GAME: Sloan rolls Perception: (16)+7: 23 GAME: Sloan rolls weapon2: (6)+6: 12 GAME: Sloan rolls weapon2: (20)+6: 26 (THREAT) GAME: Sloan rolls weapon2: (6)+6: 12 GAME: Sloan rolls weapon2: (20)+6: 26 (THREAT) GAME: Sloan rolls weapon2: (17)+6: 23
Hearing Carver, Sloan steps forward, a long bladed knife appearing in his hand looking like it had been taken from someone's kitchen, the Valet looks at the creature once more. "It does seem to be in some distress..." There's another moment of hesitation before Sloan beings cutting at vines that seem to be choking the creature. "Perhaps this is foolhardy."
GAME: Sloan rolls 1d4+4: (4)+4: 8
Harshad isn't quite out of breath, but he stumbles to a halt. "Alright, now..." He pauses, blades up, as suddenly Sloan's trying to cut the vines off, and Carver's stopped? "...Did I miss something? What's going on?" The tip of his sword wavers uncertainly.
Crik looks about him, and hearing distant lack of sounds behind him, he turns around and looks at the rest of the group of people. Walking over as he loads up his crossbow, he tilts his head inquisitively. "... Cutting free... the dragon?" He offers helpfully to Harshad.
The dragon flinches away from Sloan's cuts, but... they are directed at the vines and the dragon makes a hopeful little whimper, nudging it's head in his direction. Almost... nuzzling him? It hisses low in it's throat, clearly trying to communicate something, but the vines are IN it's mouth. Blocking much of it's ability to properly close it or enunciate words
The witch, with her familiar safely prancing around behind her, shows her unwillingness to try to harm it unnecessarily while it's helpless. She can't help but notice everyone pausing, so she does, too, reining in her Hex and holding onto it in case it's needed, but not using it just yet. Standing by to support, she calls out, "Looks like it's not as threatening as *I* expected? I'm holding off unless it becomes aggressive--like, super aggressive--when it's free!" And adds under her breath, "Please don't be aggressive."
GAME: Lucius rolls attack: aliased to 1d20+BAB+Strength: (10)+2+3: 15 GAME: Lucius rolls sword: aliased to 2d6+Strength: (5)+3: 8 GAME: Lucius rolls bite: aliased to 1d20+1: (6)+1: 7
"Oh, good idea," Lucius murmurs sheepishly, drawing his greatsword. Thunder nips experimentally at the vines, but the warhorse snorts and backs away. Meanwhile, Luke slashes away the last of the vines holding the dragon.
As the vines come free from the creature, Sloan steps back, knife in one hand, brass knuckles still wreathing the knuckles of his other, the valet speaks softly. "Terribly sorry about jumping to conclusions there. One would appreciate not being eaten for his indiscretions?"
GAME: Crik rolls stealth: (16)+10: 26
Crik looks around, then he remembers the fire. There's a floof of a cloak and the corvid egalrin quickly flattens against the earth and starts sneaking to the side, just in case there will be fiery retribution.
The vines fall away, but a few plants still cling to the dragon. It's scales are revealed to be a bronzy color in nature and the dragon lets out a little cough as the last of the vines release its jaw. "Oh goodness! Thank you! I thought you were going to kill me! Or those vines. I don't know what happened. One day I woke up and my magic had gone crazy in my sleep. I went to find help but people called me demon and didn't understand what little I could manage to get out around the vines." It's a talkative dragon it seems. "Thank you for freeing me. Thank you for not killing me." It thrums and tries to nudge Sloan again with its head. Dragony thank-you's?
izzy with Xote prancing close by, speaks up, "Hey, we're sorry. We didn't know you were having a massive, stressful struggle. We don't want to harm you, and we don't think you deserve it. If I may, I can help a little, get you feeling a touch better than before? I can do a little magical healing."
Getting nudged by the dragon, Sloan is nearly knocked off balance. Clearing his throat, he nods in polite deference to the large creature. "And likewise, I am sure. I do so hate to cut and run as it would be, but I have a young woman to continue searching for." Bowing politely to the others, the Valet retrieves his cloak once more and heads into the trees again.
Harshad looks a bit dumbfounded -- again -- as the dragon comes loose from the vines. "Uh..." He looks at the others, then shoves his weapons back into their sheaths. "You know what? I'm not even sure I believe this. Let's... let's go get drunk or something. That's a lot easier to manage. I'll buy."
Lucius bows his head. "Oh, wow. Please forgive my reckless assault. I'm certainly glad I wasn't able to hurt you." He smiles as Harshad speaks and nods. "It seems like our job here is done," he agrees. "Time to head back."
-End