Dragon Stalkers

[Ankh-Morpork Guard]

The Baron thinks a moment, then says, "There were at least thirty of the creatures," he motioned to the body in the rubble, "We killed most of them before they reached the city walls. It almost seemed that they were meant to distract us from the Dragon coming in from the sky. When the Dragon came...the wall was breached and the city was flooded with the remaining creatures. Even though their numbers were few, the Dragon overhead made it feel like hundreds."

After another pause, the Baron's voice changed in tone, less depressed sounding now, and motioned into the house, "Go in. He is in the room to your left when you enter. I will gather all of the bodies I can find of these creatures together so they can be inspected as a group. Come find me when you're done here."

 

[Uriel]

Gwystyl takes in what is being exchanged between the baron and his cimpanions and then says.'Nobody has mentioned this yet, but...What color was this Dragon, exactly? I will need forewarning to prepare defensive magic and the like.'

OoC:At least I think nobody has mentoned what type the dragon is...maybe i'm wrong.

 

[Ankh-Morpork Guard]

Gwystyl takes in what is being exchanged between the baron and his cimpanions and then says.'Nobody has mentioned this yet, but...What color was this Dragon, exactly? I will need forewarning to prepare defensive magic and the like.'

OoC:At least I think nobody has mentoned what type the dragon is...maybe i'm wrong.

"Colour?" the Baron stops himself before walking off, and turned around, "Ahh...that is one of the little...difficulties. Last night, it was red though...if that helps."

 

[Creamsteak]

Zasorthane chimes in, "Does it's color vary? Has anyone tried to cast a dispel against the creature before?"

He turns to the other group members and quietly chimes in that, "Is there a chance we are dealing with a spellcasting beast? It could appear as anything, and change it's color to misdirect..."

 

[Uriel]

OoC:What sort of damage is obvious from the breath weapon, fire, acid,lightning?

IC Gwystyl nods at te human Warrior 'As well, a simple spell could change the Dragon's appearance, thus a Red could appear as a Blue, or a Gold for that matter...' . The elf did not like that possibility, chromatics masquerading as metallics, or each other. Such made preparing defences all the more difficult.

 

[Ankh-Morpork Guard]

((OOC: The damage looks to be mostly fire, not counting claws and other natural attack marks.))

Sighing, the Baron shook his head in response to Zasorthane's question, "Our city had few mages here before the attacks began...and they were killed off early. From how that attack was, we figured the creature was trying to weaken us. It seems now, that we were right."

 

[Jarval]

"That does make life rather more difficult." Asmund agrees with Gwystyl. "But given a little time, I might be able to clear up this ambiguity." He nods meaningfully towards the dead half-dragon.

Standing and dusting off his knees, Asmund bows to the Baron, then makes his way into the house, looking around for the scout.

 

[Creamsteak]

Zasorthane readies a dagger and looks at the corpse... "Baron, what are you going to do with this body, and pray tell, what religion do you practice?"

 

[Ankh-Morpork Guard]

"The Gods have never been my ahh...concern," the Baron said quietly, "I've never truly had time. But...this body, as with all the bodies of our enemies, will be held onto for the moment for you all to examine and see if you can find out what they truly are."

Those going into the house saw that it was mostly in good shape, but everything was about half sized. That quickly made since when they looked into a room just to the left of the hallway. In a bed, sitting up slightly, was a dusty haired Halfling. He motioned to them and said in a tired sounding voice, "You're the ones who the Baron sent for...?"

 

[Creamsteak]

Zasorthane uses the knife to draw blood from one of the main arteries in the fallen creature's neck. He waits for the cold slowed and conjealing blood to sift out of the way for a small bit of what might still be warm to trickle onto the edge. He pulls the knife up then, and turns his back to the room, lifting his left hand near his face to push the cloth that masks him back. When he tastes the blood, he tries to make a mental footnote of exactly what this dragon's ichor tastes like, hoping that it is not too venomous for his own tolerance.

He then turns around to the group, mask returned to normal position. "I'll be certain to remember the flavor for the curse I'll bring onto this beast's master."