[IC] JM's A Bit of Trouble


Everett kills the wounded kobold with a firebolt.
Perin fires his crossbow at L1 striking true into the lizardfolk's chest.

The bowmen to the south send a volley of arrows at L3. Only one arrow strikes true. But only one arrow was needed.
arrows at L3 and K2 (as needed): 4#1d20+1 13 3 19 7 4#1d6+1 6 6 6 3

The swordmen to the east converge on L1 and attack. Both manage to cut the lizardfolk.
swords at L1: 2#1d20+1 15 16 2#1d6+1 2 4

Zadolix rushes up and swings the flat of his greatsword into the head of the lizardfolk, knocking him out.
attack L1 (nonlethal): 1d20+4 15 1d10+2 7 1d10+2 9

Swithun 22
Lizardmen 20
Everett 14
Perin 11
Villagers 9
Valdral 5
Zadolix 5
Surina 1
L1 0/22
not much, one down
HD 0/3 (action surge used)
HD 0/3 (out of spells)
HD 0/3 (out of spells)

HD 3/3 (out of spells)
HD 1/3 (action surge used)
HD 2/3 (lay on hands: 5hp left)

Combat is over. A couple of the bowmen rush forward and calm the horses down.


The bowmen to the south come forward and calm down the horses. The Zadilox instructs and helps the two sword wielding villages tie up and gag the captured lizardfolk. When they finish they put him on the cart. Valdral goes over to the fallen villager, but he is dead. "What should we do with the bodies?" One of them asks.


GM: Different game? I haven't had a horseless carriage in this game. Although maybe the bear attack had the horses get loose. Happened a while back.


Meanwhile, back at the camp...

"Hey, look, someone's tied up," a woman's voice says.
"What? Who?" says a man.
"Scaly skin, think he's one of them?" says another man.
"No, that's that dancer fellow," says another woman, apparently getting a better look. "He was in town a few days back. I thought he'd moved on."
"Cut him loose," says a man.

Drake blinks as the blindfold is removed from his eyes. Two men quickly cut off the rope binding his arms and legs and the cloth gagging him. He is in a tent with four or five people he semi-recognizes from the village of Leed's Crossing.

"This your stuff?" one of the women asks, pointing at a pack and a closed lute case.


Anger. Rage. The fire of a thousand thousand years of pure, unadulterated Fury swirled within him as he slept. The dragon within wanted release. It wanted to be sated. It wanted to pour its flame into the world and bathe in the ashes.

Hey, look, someone’s tied up.

Voices. The darkness receded, the dragon growled in frustration as the man took control once more, pressing the rage down deep, deep inside, where it could do no harm.

No, that’s the Dancer fellow, he was in town a few days back. I thought he’d moved on.

In town. That’s right. What was it’s name? His thoughts were becoming clearer, but it was obvious he’d been drugged. Or beaten. Or something.

The bonds around his hand were cut loose and the blindfold lifted. He blinked in the bright light. Well, brighter than anything he’d seen for days.

He sat up, rubbing his wrists. They weren’t chaffed like they should have been with him being so tied. His skin was tougher than that, now.

The light glistened off the scales on his back, shoulder and forearms. They weren’t pervasive, they didn’t cover every patch of skin, and they were small, but they were there, and they made it look like his body was sprinkled with rubies. He usually kept them hidden under makeup when he wasn’t performing, a feat that was difficult when most of them were on his back. Either way, there was no use trying to hide them now. Especially not after being captured.

Rage the dragon inside seemed to say. It’s constant push to let his temper loose was almost a comfort.

“This your stuff?” Came a question from one of the women.

His stuff. Yes. He smiled warmly at the woman and reached for it, rummaging though his pack, but not finding what he was looking for. His Alchemist Supplies were gone, as were his vials. He’d need those back.

“Thank you. There were other things in here,” he said, looking up to the others. “Do you know what happened to them?”

“Big magic lizard guy rummaged through everyone’s stuff, taking what he wanted,” one of the men said. “He liked to stay in the pit. Could be he took your things down there.”

Drake nodded, standing.

He stood over six feet tall, his shoulders broad and his bare chest sporting a well defined, muscular physique. He attached the flute case to his pack and slung it over his shoulder. He looked to the people around him, villagers he half knew from days spent in taverns and nights spent performing in the streets.

Burn them!

Drake crackle his neck, forcing the dragon down further. “Thank you for your help. I have some payback to grant. Get somewhere safe, if you can.”

He headed out of the tent and towards the pit.
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You leave the tent and are directed to the pit. As you descend the ramp underground you are passed by four villagers carrying a slightly decomposed corpse with sword wounds on a makeshift gurney. You recognize the corpse as Mara, a townswoman who ran a cheese shop. As you descend further into the pit you torchlight ahead. There are several more townsfolk tending to two other similar corpses. You recognize these bodies as men you've seen in Leed's Crossing. They seem to have been turned into zombies and subsequently dispatched. Four cages with human filth in them are at the front of the cavern. A slab of stone with dried blood sits in darkness further away. The townies are ignoring the far side of the cave.

You see a man, humanoid at least, in the dark part of the cave bent down. He picks of a flask and pulls the stopper on it and takes a sniff. "Feh, acid," the man says and seems like he's about to toss the flask away.

"No," you shout to the man.


You are sober. Too sober. You heard there were some flasks in a small pit at the back of the Pit. You have just arrived at the small depression in the back of the cavern and you have found a flask. It seems to contain acid. You consider drinking for a moment but think better of it. You are about to toss the flask away when someone shout "No" from behind you.

GM: In the pit in the Pit (Q30 on the battle maps a few pages back) are 3 flasks of acid, 1 flask of alchemist's fire, alchemy supplies worth 120 gp (empty flasks, random chemicals and reagents, stirrers, etc), and a potion of healing.


Drake rushes towards the man digging through the supplies. "The acid in there can eat through your flesh in moments."

Burn him!

Assuming Drake moves fast enough, he snatches the flask from the man's hands and bends down to inspect the supplies. Yes, most were still usable. He began replacing the items neatly into his pack, putting the Acid and Alchemist Fire in slots on his belt meant for quick access during his performances. He wished he had his oil. He'd spent many nights making over 20 bottles of it. Sure, it filled his pack near to the brim, but he went through many of them in a single night of performing.

Of course, the thought of what they could do to his captors (may the fires of judgement burn them all) was not lost on him, either. A good splash of oil and they'd know what it meant to be a Fire Dancer.
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Drake rescues his supplies from the man. On second search, he finds four flasks of oil. The others he can only guess were used to fuel the burning sconces on the walls here.

Pelegon still can not find any alcohol.

As you get acquainted (or not), you hear a cheer rise up from the camp above. When you exit the pit, you find the rescuers have returned and they have a second cart. Villagers are taking a dead man from the cart, taking him to the same place they were taking the other dead bodies. Other villagers are cataloging supplies found on the cart, to be taken with the villagers when the return to Bit. The rescuers drag a tied up lizardfolk body from the cart and start debating whether to talk to him now or after taking a rest. The villagers are sure there will not be any more carts for several days at least. They are also hoping to take the second cart with them as the first cart is becoming overloaded with wounded and food supplies.

GM: please have this discussion IC and work the new folks into the party.
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the magical equivalent to the number zero
”Oy,” says Brother Pelegon as the scaled man takes the flask from his hand, but he makes no move to reclaim it. It is only acid, after all.

He watches the man rummage through the stuff, swaying gently back and forth.

”Got any drinks?” Pelegon asks when it seems the man is done searching. Shrugging, he follows, exiting the pit where, after being liberated, he started looking for something to ease his nerves.

From the corners of his eyes, he sees a familiar figure, watching him, for just a second before disappearing again.

”I know, Bob,” he mutters to his now silent angel, ”Time to get back to life, destiny and everything. But a drink first would be nice.”

Walking unsteadily towards Drake, it seems to any that Pelegon is still drunk - which would be impossible after being imprisoned for so long.

”Name’s Pelegon. Brother Pelegon. From the mon’stery of whotsname, you know, over there,” he waves over his shoulder broadly.

”What you’re gonna do now?”


Drake looked up at the man. “I’m going to show these Dragon Kin what Dragon Blood can do. You can come with me, if you like. If nothing else, it should be entertaining.”

He left the pit and headed to where they were loading up the bodies. He knew some of them. Anger threatened to rise from the pit of his stomach, but he swallowed it down.

He looked around and quickly found a group that looked to be in charge. A Halfing, an elf, a Dragonborn and a Centaur, of all things. He recognized the elf as Lord Everett, and smiled a little. It was never a good day until he had had a chance to insult a Nobleman. He had performed for his family a number of times, and he had quite a fetching sister.

He approached slowly.

“Well met,” he said, speaking to Everett but nodding to the rest. “I wanted to thank you for helping to set me free. These lesser reptiles kept me near unconscious for days, it seems. What news can you give me of what is going on?”


Everett nods. The look on his face a lot less jovial than usual. "Sorry for skipping the pleasantries, it has been a rough couple days. Your face looks familiar."