D&D 5E Storm King's Thunder


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Kobold Stew

Last Guy in the Airlock
Supporter
Tranio watches as his companions threaten the cultist leader. He is mistrustful of any promises he might make. As a result, he says nothing, as he makes a quick inspection of the room and the bodies, before they follow the surviving cultist.
 

KahlessNestor

Adventurer
Goldenfields/Cloud temple
Afternoon
Round 0

As the others interrogate the cultist leader, Dren moves to aid Tranio search the bodies and the area around the altar.

Perception: 1D20+3 = [2]+3 = 5
Investigation: 1D20 = [8] = 8

[sblock=Actions]
Action:
Bonus Action:
Move:
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[sblock=Stats]
AC: 16
HP: 34/41+8 thp HD: 5//5d8+2
Ki: 1/5/R
Darts 10
Arrows: 20
[/sblock]

[sblock=Party Treasure]
[/sblock]

[sblock=Party]
Tranio - half-elf death cleric
Fistan - human wizard
Carolina - halfling rogue
Dren - dwarf monk
Bethany - human fighter
Aremus - half-elf paladin
Ordrar - dwarf eldritch knight
[/sblock]
 

Neurotic

I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
"OK. You survive. Tell us where it is, we're not going to blindly trust you." Ordrar takes the rope from his kit and binds the cultists hands behind.
To the group
"Do we search this place first? Just in case this one is trying to distract us from something important here. What did you do here anyway?" he asks the cultist
 

The cultist doesn't struggle as his hands are tied, but continues to glare at the party. "Be warned, the route I know goes dangerously close to the lair of Olthanas' pet. I sincerely hope it is out hunting right now or this will be a short trip." The bound man then scoffs at Ordrar's question. "It is a temple. Obviously we were here to pray."

The party is able to determine the massive cloud giant statue on the altar is of Memnor, the same evil god whose banners fly below the ship. The slain cultists have nothing of value on them.
 
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A smile forms across the prisoner's face. "A white dragon. Not fully grown, but bigger than I'm sure any of you will like."

If allowed, the cultist would then lead the group back outside and to stone walkway that ends as an observation plank over the edge of the clouds. The culist would step over the edge, but he does not fall. Rather, the scenery ripples like a mirage as he steps into the unknown.
 


Neurotic

I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
Ordrar, still bound to the cultist, follows immediately after him. He thinks, too late, that he should have insisted on his question.
 

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