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Rocket your D&D 5E and Level Up: Advanced 5E games into space! Alpha Star Magazine Is Launching... Right Now!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Manbearcat" data-source="post: 9545465" data-attributes="member: 6696971">The stinking tang of the long tail of pyroclasm’s wake hangs subtly in the air.Smoldering anxiety, intermittent shake of restless volcano, the clatter of newly collecting rubble.A decade-old broken city on a mountain, in the middle of a reclaiming and a rebuild.  Oozing wild-eyed fury and predatory calculation.Here in the feral Blacklake District, it is the dead-of-night.  The earth juts and yaws wildly on Mount Hotenow, careening this way and that, encircling features, reaching skyward, plunging earthward.  Mid-town Blacklake is "no man's land;" the perfect place for a donnybrook.  On nighttime recon via the overgrown ruins of an old manor and estate, members of The Sons of Alagondar were just ambushed by Lord Dagult Neverember's forces.  It is less a fierce clash and more a rout, as Neverember's Mintarn mercs are in force and horsemen to reinforce can be heard in the distance.The drow, Bridget T’wyllwch, who has been charading as Cymril (the leader of The Sons) for a stretch sees the opportunity.  Perhaps she had intel in advance that this ambush was going to happen?  Regardless, moments ago, she slipped the Cymril mask upon one of The Sons of Alaondar's fallen, generating a ruse that should send ripples.  However, unplanned for was the human caught in the crossfire.  Further unplanned for was his supernatural nature; a heat far beyond mortal means enveloped him when he was caught in the crossfire of the clash, laying one of both sides low.  Further, the heat singed the drow herself.  <He was close...did he see me doff the mask and apply it to the dead?> It is an inevitable thought.For now though, the pair have to get out of here, the route of these Sons is nearing complete.  Those revolutionaries that remain alive are desperately trying to egress by any means possible as more and more of Dagult's forces pour onto the ruined estate grounds.  A vastly overgrown hedge wall of fierce thorns and robust foliage encircles the grounds.  And it is high country filled with switchbacks.  Getting anywhere fast is going to be difficult.  A pair of Neverember's cavalry pour into the open-air living room, rear and crash into the attached servant's stairwell of the manor, splintering it.  The exterior facade threatens to come down on both the riders as well as you both (and not to mention the few Sons making a last stand!).  [HR][/HR]What do you do Bridget T’wyllwch and Pritchard Blackmantle?Pritchard…why are you there in the first place?Twyll, how long have you been posing as Cymril?[ATTACH=full]390924[/ATTACH]</blockquote>

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