Firbell tilts his head closer to Belvica's,
Belvica:
"I'd rather be in my cave, but I get your point. Something magic and bad is happening, that's mostly what I understand" Raising his head again, "Sire, not that I'm unwilling to try, but how can we fight such a powerful magic-user? One who can summon armies from the air and teleport earth and stone over great distances... what can be done?"
Firbell acknowledges the Paladin, and gestures towards his wolverine while they hustle along after Belvica.
Once they near the sounds of battle, Firbell is awed by the scale of the conflict. "What can we do?" he whispers to no one in particular.
Firbell nods his agreement and looks expectantly at his King. He stows his bloodied scimitar after hurriedly wiping it a relatively clean spot on one of the orcs, and pulls his sling. "Caution Gidma, stay wary." he says to his animal companion, who gives him a dull look before turning and facing forward. Adjusting his shield onto his off-hand, he signals their readiness to proceed.
Firbell stares, incredulous, as the last orc falls. He raises his hands, one still holding the scimitar, before his face and examines his hands, speckled with more than a little orc blood, as if seeing them for the first time. He see's a happy Gidma, contentedly licking blood from her jaws and claws. After a moment the stunned druid looks around, taking stock of their situation. Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Firbell can't help a grisly smile from creeping onto his face as they seem to be overwhelming the orcs. The druid shifts 5' to try and achieve flanking against the Orc he's currently facing and tries a slash at the ugly brutes stomach. Just moving in 5' steps to get into flanking or move that direction. Firbell Attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19 (Add +2 if flanking) Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3 Gidma continues her attack at the monsters ankles, teeth flashing in.
Firbell tries to charge with the others, caught up in the moment. He rips his scimitar from it's sheath as he closes in on the nearest orc.
Gidma charges after him, teeth and claws bared.
-2AC to Firbell and Gidma
Firbell exchanges a panicked look with Gidma, "Oh no, stay near me girl!" he commands his wolverine. Hearing the others shouting he scrambles to his pack, ripping his shield free and holding it high. Rushing with the other to the kings side, he looks for any extra loose areas of the ceiling, readying his entangle spell to try and shore up the massive stone. Ready Entangle spell for loose rock that might endanger the group.
Firbell let himself doze off, feeling flushed and excited about his breakthrough with the animals earlier. Gidma was still up, gazing steadily at him. He grinned and grabbed playfully at her head, and she nipped at his fingers, careful not to draw blood. "Don't worry Gidma, you'll always be the gal for me!" Gidma let her tongue loll out for a moment, and then laid her head down, apparently satisfied. His thoughts were thick with the hunt and Belvica's way with their new beastly friends. We should think of a name for them Firbell thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep.
Firbell has an epiphany of sorts, and shares this exciting discovery with the others. "Mother-load! I just realized that I can understand these creatures! While I won't be able to speak with them forever, my comprehension of what they are saying to me isn't completely diminished!" The balding dwarf seems quite ecstatic about this discovery.
Can you list what the init is for us to see? If that's too meta I'm fine either way. Firbell gasps at the sight of the parent and quickly casts a spell with a murmured word. Cast Speak with Animals He then starts speaking to the beast, as if the animal would be able to understand him. "Please don't attack! We found your kids and will not harm them. We will leave if you want." Good think we missed them! he thinks to himself as he stares at the large animal.
Gidma Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
Firbell pulls a sling out from a pouch at his waist as he walks closer to Belvica, quickly whirling it up to speed and readying to release it at the strange beaked beast. "I don't know what they are.. Gidma, Připravený!" Ready Ranged attack if any beasts move to attack
Gidma ready a charge when any of the beasts close within 10' of any party member
Confirm crit - Firbell readied attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11 and Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3 K (Nature): 1d20 ⇒ 18
Firbell suddenly stops in his tracks, "Belvica, Morg, stop!" Assuming Morg is with us. Firbell points out a group of four legged creatures crouching in the grass between Belvica and the trees. Firbell pulls out his scimitar, ready to defend or retreat depending on what happens in the next few seconds.
Firbell has become more and more accustomed to the wide open sky, and while he's not exactly comfortable, "I'll go with you!" He also would like to watch and possibly participate in sparring, and perhaps see if there's a competition for animal companions or 'trained animals' even though he doesn't truly consider Gidma his animal... he's just heard of such things before.
Firbell shrugs, but gives what he hopes is a welcoming smile to Morg, and mounts up as well. At some point during the day he leans to Belvica, careful to keep his voice down, "Someone who can survive that long among Drow must be quite the survivor... but it seems to have addled his brain a little too." During the day he often moves off with Gidma to looks for water, berries, game, and grubs to add to the nights meal. They do have rations, but it always helps to be prepared. Survival: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25 Game turns out to be plentiful, and he fells a boar feeding next to a berry patch. He is forced to walk his animal back in order to bring in the heavy animal. He keeps his eyes and ears open during this time, trying to see dangers before danger finds them. Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24 He seems to have keener senses than normal and is sure to point out all the noises and interesting sights to the others.
Firbell stares dumbfounded, "We are all serving his Highness as his subjects, surely you can do the same? I don't have all the information the King is privy to, but I am sure we're doing something important!" He scratches his head, trying to see if he recalls the length of his Kings reign thus far. Knowledge: Nobility? (Untrained, hoping for DC of 10 or less): 1d20 ⇒ 12
Firbell shakes his head, "I feel like we're getting off on the wrong wet boot... lets try again. I'm Firbell, this wolverine is Gidma, Belvica, and Sturgiss. We're on a quest with our King. It sounds like you've been through quite a bit." Firbell waves his hand through the air as if searching for words, unsure where to take the conversation.
Firbell blinks his eyes a few more times, and in his tiredness checks his boots. "No I don't... Wait a minute. What are you talking about? Your name can't possibly be piss-boy. Why are you in our camp?" Firbell looks over to confirm that Belvica is alive and in camp, and then waits for the response.
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