Renew the Pact: N'pacier Atol'ciel
Log Info
- Title: Renew the Pact: N'pacier Atol'ciel
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Thurid, Braelnoir, Zaxx
- Place: A05: Adventurer's Council, Great Hall, The Desolation
- Time: Sunday, March 28, 2021, 3:20 PM
- Summary: Firestarter, an orange-skinned Arvek Nar of Braelnoir's friendship, is out touting for Lars the Charming Bard, attempting to find an adventuring group for him. Thurid and Zaxx are attracted, as well as Braelnoir. The merc quickly explains to the others that Lars has a habit of charming people to do his bidding. Entering the room to hear his briefing, this seems to occur, as Lars is playing a fascinating tune, which captures and holds Zaxx and Braelnoir. Thurid is unaffected and more suspicious, and demands to know what is going on. Lars explains that the Resurrectionist Society needs people to perform ritual acts, honouring the original Pact between the Conclave and Animus, as part of restoring the dead god to life. Thurid expresses disbelief that someone like Lars would know this, but he reassures her the group leaks like a sieve and it's not hard to find out things. Thurid and Lars have a brief debate on magic that makes people slaves, with Lars' expousing that all persuasion is coercion and it's possible to influence people even by denying them heals. Issue unsettled, he explains they'll be teleporting to a now, non-floating, sky island called N'pacier Atol'ciel, in the Desolation, where he'll try to fix it and then they can perform the ritual. The adventurers are needed mostly to protect him from any wildlife or locals they find. He manages the teleportation, after some attempts, and the group arrives at the rump-like cracked boulder in the heat blasted Desolation. Thurid advances to check out the darkness, when a red dragon appears to breathe fire on her!
-=--=--=--=--=--=<* A05: Adventurer's Council, Great Hall *>-=--=--=--=--=--=-
As the phoenix is Alexandria's national symbol, so too has its Explorer's Council, often called the Adventurer's Council, risen from the ashes of its destruction.
Guards and mercenaries fill the interior of this huge building, one of the largest in its immediate area. Strong, metal walls divide its interior, crafting halls, briefing rooms and offices. A large space near the front has been set aside for mingling and stocked with comfortable chairs to wait in.
This area is catered by one of the Society of Arcanists' more famous chefs, a small lucht with a predilection for otherworldly cuisine and tentacle soup. Security here is as tight as it is anywhere in Alexandria, even more so now after its recent destruction. Sharp eyed sentinels and guards are ever-watchful and all manner of security contraption is said to be residing within the walls of the building. The walls are pristine for now, though not for long, and artfully decorated with murals depicting heroic adventure by members of all communities and races of the region.
The windows to the Council Hall are now stained glass, artfully decorated to depict famous moments in Alexandrian history, ranging from the death of Altima at the hands of the Phalanx Falcis at the end of the Sorceress Wars, to the city triumphantly emerging from the Mists to a changed world. Many spaces have been set aside for new stories to be added, with numerous tale yet to be written.
No matter how many times the Hall has been rebuilt, the statue in the front remains the same: a lone warrior facing off against what is presumably thought to be 'Cuddles the Otyugh Queen', with the Council's motto, below: Anything for the right price.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Thurid 7'1" 249 Lb Giantborn Female Bright-eyed, muscular, blond Giantborn woman. Braelnoir 5'11" 146 Lb Human Female A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver. Zaxx 5'2" 152 Lb Shadow Elf Male Compactly built, bald man with dark skin and pointy ears. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- NPCs of Note -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Lars Human Male A very _charming_ bard, Mr Feels the Eels Firestarter Hobgoblin Female An orange Arvek Nar, hobgoblin -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's a nice day, warm in the sun, cool in the shade. The air is clear, dry. Fair weather clouds dift lazily across a blue sky, coaxed by soft cirrocos. A perfect day to wander by the Explorer's guild and see what's on the board.
Standing out front, before one has a chance to enter, is a rough looking hobgoblin. She has armoured gaunlets, but seems to have foregone armour, wearing something fur-based for the cool temperatures. More remarkable is her orange tinted skin, a rare shade among the Arvek Nar. She's holding one of the notices, accosting random passers-by and adventurers.
"Looking for someone looking for a Group. We need two or three more."
Thurid had been out for one of her jogs- something she has certainly missed at the Deva camps- when she has a flier thrust up towards her face- which almost causes her to barrel into the flier-giver. She skids to a stop and blinks, "A group for what?" she asks the Arvek, turning to face her properly- and scraping an errant lock of sweat sodden hair from her brow to tuck behind her ear so she can lean down take a better look at the flier.
Zaxx has a rumpled, raincaked leather hat on and rides by the guild to get his steed combed and fed for free. Almost. He can check his room also and say hello to some of the personnel. The dark hued man leans forward as he stomps through the hallway and into where the big boards hang.
"Well, bodyguarding." The orange-skinned Arvek Nar says, smiling and showing off sharp, interlocking teeth, "There's more to it, go to a place, do a thing, which Lars is going to explain. Mostly we need a couple others so it's safe."
Inside, the notice board seems well picked over. A few missions to hunt errant goblin nests, very beginner sorts of assignments, and another supposedly to track down a dragon, a bit higher lever, and no other adventurers hanging around.
Likewise a little in need of conditioning despite all the moving around she's been up to, lately, An Acanian woman drifts near the Guild hall and promise of work, when she notes the Jotun being waylaid by the hob. She hastens her stride a touch, idly drumming her fingers along the haft of her weapon as she draws near, "Gettin' a party started, huh?"
Brae looks to the Arvek woman with a smile and reaches out to bump her knuckles, the blunt ones, against the orange woman's arm, "Been a while 'star, 'ow ya been?"
"Brae!" The orange Arvek Nar grins widely, giving her a light bump on the shoulder back, "I'm so glad to see you! Hey, I've patched things up with Lars, and we've got a great adventure, do you want in? We need just a couple more."
'Star looks between the Acanian and the Jotun. "We're ready to go now... although you both look a little busy."
"Seems that way." Thurid replies to Braelnoir, and then she cracks a gap-toothed grin of her own to match the Arvek's, "Alright, you've got my intrest. Bodyguarding is something I can do." she says. "Mind, who is this Lars? I'm happy to help provided it's not something nefarious I'm signing up for." she adds then with a raised eyebrow.
On the business front she laughs, "Not at all, nothing that can't wait for a bit of advenure anyway. Just give me a few to go fetch my gear." she says.
Zaxx raises a brow and frowns more, "Fine. I know that one by their footwork, but I do not know why." He jerks his chin at the Acanian. The dark baldie shrugs, "Let's start." Zaxx looks around and for a dark corner where a guild superior might lurk with all the good jobs. The devourer may claim them. "Bodyguarding is possible. I can fight offensively and defensively."
"Oh, Larrrs....!" Brae replies, "He's still around, huh? I been meanin' ta catch up with him, what's he been up to, luv?" there is, to be sure, a certain excitement underlying her tone. She considers the two volunteers and wonders, "S'what can you do? Spells, healin'?"
"Great! Meet us in conference room five." 'Star says, smiling happily at Thurid and Braelnoir. Zaxx's interjection seems to take her by surprise, and there's a moment of confusion, then she smiles again.
"Well his usual things, touting, entertaining at the colosseum, occasionally going on adventures, like this one. It's for a very prestigious society." The orange Arvek Nar heads inside.
"He's got a presentation to explain it. I'll let him know you're coming! So glad to see you again Brae! Conference Five, when you're ready."
The mul's earlobes sink a bit. "My travel gear is here. I should get that. I can patch wounds with a needle, if I have to. I am a mul. I was born with magics. I mostly fight. I am a decent teamster, too." His voice is very deep and loud. "Five in a candletwelfth."
"Right, I'd best introduce myself." Thurid says then, as Brae enquires as to her abilities. "Right- Name's Thurid, Warrior of Angoron. So a bit of healing, bit of fighting, as the situation demands." she says then. "Right, I'll go fetch my hammer." she says, since they all seem agreed. And she departs, heading back up towards the temple district where she boards at the mountain to fetch her belongings. She leaves at a brisk jog.
Thurid returns after not too long- bedecked in her clerical armor and vestments. Shimmering blue-silver chainmail and the scapular emblazoned with Angoron's symbol, a massive warhammer, with a haft that almost matches her impressive height and a head like an anvil- and the newest addition. A circlet about her brow, fixed with a pair of wings of hammered bronze just above the ears. She makes her way towards the conference room in question.
Braelnoir waves after, "Sure, sure, b'right there, luv!" and levels her scythe in front of the first one to start following, blade turned away from them, more a 'please' than an 'or else'.
"Sorry."
She looks to the Warrior and nods, "Braelnoir, ex merc, still do stuff fer the Guild."
She reshoulders the weapon and looks toward the building, asiding, "She's a mate an' she's in trouble. Lars's a bastard ben kepin her under a charm. She wants him dead almost as bad as I do, normally. He likes charms, an' if we go in there, we'll hafta deal with that, an whoever else he's got with'm."
Zaxx returns with some more weapons and marchworthy rucksack with a case attached. He enters the room without fanfare and watches, "Zaxx. I do jobs for the guild. It is the most steady job I could get in town."
The music can be heard before the source is seen. A lute, playing a casual sequence of notes that resonate and linger. It's not so much a song as someone experimenting with the acoustics of the room, but it's still interesting in its own way.
Inside, there's a conference table. On top are a few jugs of water and several glasses. In the middle, a large platter of sliced meats and cheeses, with a second one of fruit chunks.
At one end, sitting with his feet up is a blond man, also wearing furs and looking slightly Stormgardian, strumming his lute. He has an oddly punchable face. He smiles as everyone enters, waving a foot so he doesn't interrupt his playing, and greets the Acanian specifically, "Braelnoir! Good to see you. Such great memories of the Ox. I got my nose fixed. Have a seat, I'll fill you all in."
Beside him is a flip board, with a badly drawn circle on it that has a crack up the middle. More too half-circles. It resembles a butt.
Thurid frowns deeply at the warning she's given before entering the room- at Braelnoir's warning. "That don't sit well with me." she says then, but she proceeds regardless- with that new light, she offers the man a hard stare, but heads on into the room- standing with her hands on her hips while the rest file in. "So what's this 'bout a job then?" she asks brusquely.
Zaxx squints his elven peepers and claims a seat, quiet for the time.
Kor help her, she's keeping his balls.
Brae ventures into the room, eyeing the corners and spread even as Lars notes her arrival, "Yeah, luvvie... th'Ox was -soooo- much fun, but ya left before things really got playful!"
Look at that smile! So sweet. She really should have pigtails to go with the chopper spread she's showing him.
She glances about again, to get a bearing on where Firestarter ended up and drifts unhuriedly toward the table. OK, one exit, potential three on two advantage, though it can swing....
"So... bodyguaardin' huh?"
GAME: Thurid rolls will: (13)+9: 22 GAME: Braelnoir rolls will: (2)+2: 4 GAME: Zaxx rolls will: (4)+5: 9 (11 if Charm) <OOC> Zaxx says, "11 if charm." Thurid pages: Can I roll spellcraft to see if I notice a spell being cast? You paged Thurid with 'it's bardic performance, so you can see him playing all ready, I guess spellcraft to see that it's a spell.' GAME: Thurid rolls spellcraft: (8)+6: 14 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "DC is usualy 15+spell level... so... probably you don't recognize something is going on"
"Well it's a job that needs a little context." Lars says, continuing to strum, rocking his head back and forth with his foot keeping pace. It's distracting, at least mildly hypnotic. More perhaps is the way he makes certain notes linger in the air. The sideboards vibrate, for some notes, not others. Tracking whether a single note will, or won't cause the effect, takes a little concentration. "We bards do love our backstory."
Firestarter is standing beside Lars and the flip chart, presumably to act as his flip girl.
"So!" Lars says eagerly, "Perhaps you've seen the fliers that have been around town, about the Resurrectionist's Society? They have an ambitious, nay, admiral goal, to bring back the God Animus! It seems fragments of him have fallen to earth, and according to my sources in the society, there is a huge fragment right outside town, just for the taking!"
He lets this dramatic news sink in, then the notes on his lute go low, ominous, "One problem. This 'Death Orb' won't trust anyone, unless they complete the tasks that the White Council performed, and Renew the Pact between the Conclave and Animus."
Firestarter taps at the 'butt' on the flip chart, Lars pauses dramatically, "This, is one of the tasks."
Thurid's hard gaze remains, and her hands remain on her hips, but she listens along without interuption for a while. "Aye, I admit I'm a mite out of the loop in that regard, not long returned to the city." she admits on the topic of Animus. Her gaze moves over to Firestarter, and follows her pointing towards the image. She pauses, herself- though less for dramatic effect and more out of confusion, to guage by the expression on her face. "And... what's that meant to be, exactly?" she wonders. "I somehow doubt part of the ritual involves mooning a passerby."
Zaxx's expression evens. He helps himself to some fruit with a poker. He drums the fingers of his left on left and listens closely. "Tell us everything! Do tell, do tell!"
Braelnoir's hand settles on the back of a chair and she holds her eyes on the blonde man, a slight parting her her lips as she listens to his explanations without rebuttal. So beautiful..
"That? Oh, my drawing skills are terrible." Lars laughs, still strumming away, "That is "N'pacier Atol'ciel, a floating sky island in the desolation. At least it was. It crashed, and that's why it's cracked."
He looks over, "'Star, would you oblige?" She nods, and flips the sheet, it has another rough drawing. A map of the desolation, an X near the top end, with a N'pacier label, another X down near the bottom left, labelled Alexandria.
"N'pacier Atol'ciel was where the scholars and wizards who would eventually form the Conclave met. They made an agreement amongst themselves for the terms of their behaviour, and how they would interact with the god, Animus."
Lars faces everyone, "The Resurrectionist Society believes that certain symbolic acts are necessary before the Pact can be renewed. This is one, duplicating the original meeting. Our task is to go there, see if we can get the island floating again, then do the agreement. I've got the ritual we should perform, and a few things to try to restore the island. I need you in case there's something there that will try to stop us."
He shrugs, "Or you know, that moved in and made it home some time in the last few hundred years."
Thurid nods her head slowly at the explanation- ancient magics are not her field of expertise, but restoring the sundered god- even if it is not her own- does appeal to her. "Alright, seems a bit of a stretch a fop like of you would get wind of this, but I 'spose people have loose tongues around tavern performers." she says then. "I got no more questions about the job, sounds simple enough. Am curious what you reckon to gain, mind. No offense, but I don't take you for the charitable sort."
Zaxx speaks out in a rumbling whisper, "That is nothing short of incredible!" He chews fruitstuff quietly besides.
Braelnoir for her part is still just... absorbing the information while everyone talks. That voice... and the chords just... pull at the heart...
"They are rather open about it. Had a street meeting a little while ago, anyone could walk up. Then all the guards and scholars that went to look at the Death Orb, they even had Airships patrolling. It's hard not to run into it." Lars says, "One beer you'll hear the story of a guy turning into a blood fountain. A few more beers or questions, you'll get the rest of the details."
He peers carefully at Thurid, "I'm doing it for money, and to have an adventure with my friends where we can bond. You seem a little hostile, to me and to the idea, do you want to see the instructions from the Society? You don't have to come."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Lars rolling a Sense Motive on Thurid, mostly to see if she plans to hurt him" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+16: (1)+16: 17 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "he believes you're flirting in a Jotun way." <OOC> Thurid says, "He would XD" <OOC> Zaxx x.x;;
Thurid shrugs her shoulders, "No, not to the idea." she retorts. "Just heard some ill rumors, is all." she says then. A pause for a few moments, and she continues, "See, my mum was a slave. Dad, too. Dad died shortly 'fore I was born, so I never knew him. Never knew the life of a slave, either, thanks to the good folks of the temple that took my mum and her babe in." she says, "But there's somethin' that don' sit right with me, 'bout twisting people to your will. Even if it aint an iron yoke you use but some sort of magic." she finishes, casting a pointed glance at the orange Arvek. "That said. It's only rumors. But if I found out it was more'n that?" she says, "Might be a mite cross." she finishes.
Mmmm... bonding... beats to march to.... each drumbeat a footfall.... While Thurid lays things out, and Zaxx samples the goodies, Braelnoir, for her part, can't get enough of Lars's sweet, sweet strummin'.
Zaxx scratches his chin, "I am sorry to hear of your plight, madam. Show and tell us more, please." He goes on stuffing himself, but his attention is on the performer.
"So... you'd object to a 'Hold Person' or a 'Sleep', or 'Hypnotise'? Even a 'Come over here so I can heal you', because that's controlling someone with magic? Better to just kill the guard than try and talk your way past them, even if you're using magic to be a little more persuasive with your words?" Lars says, still casually playing away, sounding more curious than anything else. "I ask because I'm a bard, playing music is kind of my thing, inspiring courage, all that. I wouldn't want your great big earth breaker to my breakable face if I tried giving the party a little boost. Is that likely to happen?"
He laughs, "I'd be even more useless on this mission if I couldn't be the bard."
"Don't pretend to understand bardic magic." Thurid admits then, "Just saying, if I got wind anyone was here who didn't want to be, I'd take issue, is all. If that aint going to be a problem for you, it's not going to be a problem for me." she says, taking her hands off her hips and folding them across her chest instead. "So carry on." she adds, releasing one hand long enough to gesture back towards the flipboard, before folding them again.
"I am with you, fabulous Larrrs," imparts the loud elf. What is your plan?" This is so inTeReStInG! He carries on drumming.
"Well, I hope everyone here is interested in going. You want to, right Firestarter?" Lars looks over at the orange Arvek Nar, asking and nodding at the same time. She enthusiastically replies, "Yes, of course Lars, it'll be fun. You and me and Braelnoir."
He looks at the Merc next, then the Mul'niessa, "You want to? I'm not wrong?"
Finally he gestures at the flip board, and Firestarter flips it over a third time. There's a rough building layout, but it looks incomplete. "Only drew two charts. There is a little keep-castle on the Atol'ciel, but the map is from before the crash, so I don't know how accurate it would be. I've got a teleportation scroll to go there, so our only choice is top or bottom, castle or cave essentially."
Lars looks over to the Jotun, smiles again, "If you're ok with coming, why don't you pick? I have no idea which is better. The cavern, we can probably see whatever made the island float easier, but things will have more likely wandered in. It'll be hard to get up top too, we'll have to climb. The top, well, could be unstable, but we need to do the ritual there."
He's stoppped playing.
Braelnoir maintains her rapt attention on the bard, without snark nor support in any regard, not risking anything to disrupt the utter perfection of what she's hearing with something as unworthy as her own voice.
Then... shatteringly, it stops.
She straightens a bit and blinks, shaking her head, "Wai- what?"
"Bottom." Thurid votes without much hesitation, "Better to have to climb than to start out by falling." she says then, still not seeming entirely convinced by the reassurances, but also not making any moves to smash any faces or instruments for the time being either. "'sides, sounds like we'll have to go both places anyroad. I'm a decent climber, so I'll get some hooks 'n rope-" she is saying, when Braelnoir seems to snap out of it. She narrows her eyes a bit, looking between her and the bard.
The cursed man gesture with a rattle and clatter of chain, "Oh, I agree! I could not find a fault! But..."
"Teleport to the Desolation to fix a non-floating sky island so it floats again, then perform a re-enactment of an ancient gathering to partially earn the trust of a dead god and a bunch of coins." Lars summarizes, as some confusion occurs at the end of his performance. The lengths he has to go to get adventurers to pay attention to info dumps, he even made efforts to ensure they wouldn't be distracted! And provided food!
He stands, slings the lute to his back and takes out a scroll, "bottom of the bottom it is." He deliberately drew it that way! He beckons everyone closer and marks a circle on the ground, with a pentagram, and stands on one of the points. Firestarter takes up another. He gestures at the free points and reads the scroll, pronouncing arcane phrases and making particular hand-signs.
Zaxx sounds slightly dubious, "Do we adjourn?"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "He's doing something with a scroll. Lars UMD to meet the requirements to cast." GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (16)+1: 17 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (20)+1: 21
Braelnoir,'s chin lowers slightly as the Korite levels a glower at the bard and she starts to make her way around the table, a hand drifting to her bandolier, a small leather bundle being what she seeks.
Lars is not a wizard. Papapyrus is a lot harder to charm than a person. His first attempt reading through the scroll, nothing seems to happen. He gestures at the open points on the pentagram, "You'll need to stand on those."
His second attempt is clearly off, he stumbles on the first few words, and curses mildly as some arcane gesture is reversed.
Third times the charm. His accent is perfect, sparkling energy builds into a nimbus around his hand. The words have power, the circle on the floor starts to glow with a pale white light. "Okay, everyone grab hold."
He takes Firestarter's hand, and reaches for... whoever ended up on the other side of him. The orange Arvek Nar holds her free hand for a partner.
Thurid heads on over to the magic circle, joining with the others and huffing slightly- it's always airships and teleporting and all that nonsense. Does no one just walk anymore? But, she keeps her complaints to herself and takes someone's hand in one of her own large ones, with thick fingers and hard callused skin.
Zaxx reaches for two small skewers and spears more cheese and fruit. He holds them between his lips as he holds onto others firmly yet mindfully.
Braelnoir is less thrilled about this than the others, it seems, but, there is some advantage into doing their business elsewhere.
She sidles up to Firestarter's free hand and watches the bard.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d100: (67): 67 (Teleport miss-hap for seen once. Goes ok!)
Hands held, the arcane energy flows along each person, and lights up the lines of the pentagram and the magic circle. There's a disorienting rush, a swirl of light and sensation.
The sudden shock of climate change. Mildly damp, cool air switches to a heatwave of dryness, no moisture at all, dust underfoot. Direct sun beating down, searing away the shadows.
Nearby, a large boulder, the size of a small castle with a smaller castle on top of it. A great crack all the way through, where all the shadows have fled. Whisps of wind tug at everyone.
Lars almost seems to read Thurid's mind, "I've got one to get back, but something happens to me it'll be a long walk. So, we should check in there first." He gestures to the crack. "Unless there's some better suggestions?"
Thurid takes a deep breath of the air when they arrive, and pauses to look around. She looks out into the expanse of mostly lifeless wasteland that makes up the Desolation, seemingly lost for thought for a while. "Was born somewhere out there." she says, to no one in particular. But, Lars' words get her attention. "Aye, seems sensible enough. I'll take the van." she agrees on the topic of exploring the crack. She hefts her hammer from over her shoulder, and pauses a moment with her eyes closed. The anvil-sized head of the hammer glows bright as a torch after a few moments, and she begins to walk towards the opening in the stone.
<OOC> Thurid says, "Casting a Light Orision"
Zaxx grits his teeth and ducks his head. "And I was in a forge not three hours ago!" He tests his peripheral vision and the firmness of the surface his reinforced boots are on. "There might be a storm coming on. We should get out of the weather. In seems good."
Braelnoir takes the transit with some experienced aplomb. She's disoriented for a second, sure, but, with a thought or two, her garb is suddenly more light woven cloth that offers a fair amount of coverage. She keeps her leather parcel held low at first, scanning the environs, then, reluctantly, stows it again, "We need ta check corners an' move slow. If there's folk inside, they're gnna protect their turf. Might mean traps, definately means ambushe if we're discovered."
She'll kill him later.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+11: (20)+11: 31 (Stealth for the Fire Lizards) GAME: Thurid rolls perception: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Thurid only sees... a giant butt. GAME: Zaxx rolls perception: (6)+12: 18 GAME: Braelnoir rolls perception: (18)+12: 30 You paged Braelnoir with 'DRAGON!'
It is hot. And bright! The sun beats down, unrelenting. The cracked rock, the surrounding area, are bleached nearly white, bone dry. There's a sizzling noise.
Lars, hangs back, gestures at Firestarter for her to get in front of him and do the bodyguard thing. "I'm going to play something inspiring, if that's all right." He announces, bringing his lute to bear.
The crack in the rock is utterly dark, with the low hissing noise, like a steaming kettle.
Braelnoir catches a hint of movement. Scales? Red?
Thurid sees! A huge reptilian head breaks from the shadows! Red scales! A gaping maw of a mouth, with a fiery glow building and churning in the depths of its throat.
Aiming right at her!
