Wrath of the Righteous Table Redemption (Inactive)

Game Master nightdeath

setting up

Armasse officially began at noon, with the blessing of the festival by Lord Hulrun himself, ruler of Kenabres. The crowd gathered in Clydwell Plaza quieted as the aged inquisitor took the stage, clad in shining, resplendent armor. He cleared his throat, but just as he was about to speak, a bright light shone from the west, as if the sun were rising from the wrong direction. Hulrun’s shadow fell huge and distorted across the cathedral’s facade. A moment later, the sound of a thunderous explosion ripped through the air and earth, along with a violent tremor.

To the west, the fortress known as the Kite—the location of Kenabres’s wardstone—had vanished. In its place, a brilliant plume of red fire, lightning, and smoke erupted into the heavens.

A moment later, a powerful roar accompanied a welcome sight rising from the crowd—Kenabres’s greatest guardian, the ancient silver dragon Terendelev, who had until that moment been attending the opening ceremony disguised as a human. Above, another form appeared, as nightmarish as the dragon was breathtaking. A humanoid shape three times the size of any man, with skin coated in fire and lightning, gripped a flaming sword and whip. The creature’s identity was immediately obvious: Khorramzadeh, the Storm King of the Worldwound, had come to Kenabres!

As the ground continued to shake and disgorge demons into the streets, the dragon and the balor lord clashed above. The fight was over in a few harrowing moments, as the balor cut deep into Terendelev’s body, swooping down to strike the dragon and arresting her charge. A few more blows, and the titanic duo spiraled downward toward the crowd.

The sight of the dragon smashing into the facade of the Cathedral of St. Clydwell is one no witness would ever forget. At that moment, a titanic demon erupted at the far end of the plaza, reducing several buildings to ruins as it smashed into this world. The rift it created shot across the plaza, and this time there was no escape—it opened below your feet, angling away into darkness.

Even as you fell, the dragon noticed your plight. Though she saw death standing over her, she seized this final chance to save a few more souls. After she uttered a few arcane words and stretched out a bleeding talon, you felt her magic take hold of you, slowing your plummet into the darkness as if you were feathers falling into a pit. Yet the fall remained as inexorable, and as you drifted downward into the depths, the last thing you saw was the Storm King standing before the ancient silver dragon, his sword lashing out and cleaving full through her neck. As her severed head fell, the rift above you slammed shut, and the light of the world above was gone.

Darkness fills your vision. When you awake throbbing pain floods your body, your throat is dry and your muscles start to signal life flowing within your veins as you pause to take stock of your surroundings. The caravan you are in is dark as far as you can tell, there seems to be no one else but you. Are there Survivors or are you alone?

However the case, deep inside you know, the first step towards a long journey has begun. Where will your path take you?

Daylen came to with a start, coughing up dust and dirt. He opened his eyes and blinked against the darkness. He laid there as the reality of what had just transpired returned to him. He remembered the crowds in the plaza, and the Kite consumed in fire. Daylen sat bolt upright. The Wardstone had fallen, Kenabres was under siege. The great silver dragon, Terendelev, had been slain. Daylen's mind raced, what happened to Uncle Feyzan, where was Keldrom, where was HE for that matter?

Daylen slowly got to his feet and reached into his pack for a torch nada his flint and steel. Fumbling in the darkness for a moment, he tried to listen to his surroundings. His blood was pounding in his head, drowning out all the other small sounds. Finally finding the items he was looking for, Daylen paused a moment considering that there could be demons in this very cavern and as soon as he lit the torch, he would be making himself a target. "Here's hoping," he muttered and struck the flint, sparking the torch to life. He lifted it high, then drew his sword just in case. He looked around and whispered, "Hie, Keldrom. To me, boy!"

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

Fire and storm, screams and terror. In the midst of it all, Melchesiech strove as best he could to hold onto his self-control, but his thoughts were a whirl. This should not be happening. And: There is nothing I can do. And: I am going to die now. I'm sorry, Tranh, that you didn't get to go hunting. Good luck. And finally, scholarship winning out over all lesser influences: That was a feather fall spell, wasn't it? I should thank h--

Fade to black.

Consciousness returned slowly. In the darkness, Melchesiech's first awareness was of his own breathing. I'm alive--I think. The clink of falling stones in the distance intruded into his thoughts, followed by a nearby fumbling. That was foolish of me not to memorize light today. Though how could I have known? And what is that noise? Ah, Common. Not likely to be a demon, then. It sounds like a hu--

The spark and torchlight cut through the elf's thoughts. He stood slowly, feeling every bruise and scrape inflicted by the fall, shading his eyes as he got used to using them again. "Hello? I am not Keldrom, but Melchesiech. You are?"

E-Terah coughed to clear the dust and grit from her nose as she jolted back to awareness with a wheeze.Her coral eyelashes swept her cheeks as she scanned her surroundings,her vision murky monochrome in the dust shrouded darkness.Her blood raced in her veins as adrenaline spiked through her with the remembrance of how she ended up prone in pitch black.

The last thing recalled was making her way to the Clydwell Plaza during the festival before it all went to hell.A horrid demon appeared and struck down that majestic silver by cleaving her head off--- right before the very ground exploded and she fell into oblivion. apparently she had survived--miraculously.

She checked her gear,making sure what meager belongings she carried were still with her.She let out a relieved sigh when she felt her backpack still secured to her back,her maulaxe and waraxe strapped to her rump in their sheathes.She tugged at her leather dress and readjusted the chainmail underneath.

Her ear perked at the sound of two separate voices calling out. She cleared her throat and barked out in her husky accented Common,Oi! Who's alive out there? Anyone need aid?

The dwarf maid rolled onto her feet,wedge heeled boots shifting across the dust and debris as she cautiously took a readied stance.She withdrew her maulaxe,a stuffed goblin beanbag worn with use attached to the end of its handle by a leather cord dangling with a vacant shark grin.

Using her darkvision,the dwarf maid started to stalk towards where she heard the calls.

1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16Perception

Due to light or vision, the figure of Daylen is clear.

Daylen spun to see who had responded to his call. He wondered who would actually answer him, briefly considered a demon's ploy, and pushed it out of his head as unlikely. He responded back into the darkness, "I am Daylen, Keldrom is my horse. I'm not sure he made it, I -" Daylen cut off when he heard the others. First a strong female voice offering aid, then the hoarse voice that identified itself as Horgus Gwerm, and then another female voice, softer and weaker than the other. Finally Daylen heard the one sound he had been straining for, Keldrom.

Daylen looked in the direction of the horse's signal, and was relieved to find Keldrom alive and seemingly unharmed. He thought, Strange that he isn't coming when I call him. I wonder- That's when he saw the boy. His breath came sharply, "Dead gods," he breathed. He ran over to the broken body of the poor boy and knelt down. "Be still, and all will be well, child." He tried to comfort the boy, and himself with these words but he knew they were a lie. He called into the darkness, thinking of the strong female voice that had called out to see if there were any that needed aid, "We need help! There's a boy here, please come quickly!"

Daylen had heard the others in the rubble, he knew there were more that might benefit more, but this boy . . . How many other children had been playing in the square just moments ago? He didn't want to think about it, his eyes were warm and blinked back tears. He took the boys hand and tried to put on a brave face for his own sake at least. If help didn't come, at least the boy wouldn't die alone. "My name is Daylen. What's your name, son?"

When she heard someone cry out about a wounded child,the she-dwarf didn't hesitate.She charged ahead towards the source,hoping that she could stabilize the poor youngling before he expired.

After she tended to the child,she would go seek out the male with the soft voice.Surely they could hold on for a few moments more!

Oi! Where be you?!

1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15Perception

E-Terah skidded to a halt,one gloved hand coming to her throat as she stifled a saddened gasp.She felt tears burn her eyes and sniffed before turning away and charging off to seek out the source of that breathy,weak voice pleading for help.

Dear Motherdwarf,Folgrim,goddess of marriage,widows,and orphans,please watch over that poor lad,even though he wasn't a dwarf.she offered a silent prayer for the child's soul as she jogged through the darkness,scanning the black and gray landscape for any others needing aid with nearly frantic haste.

Oi,hold on,I'm comin t' help ya. Please endure until I c'n reach you!

E-Terah finds an elf, his injuries horrific, robes singed slightly with his quarterstaff near him clutched tightly in his hands. His robes are of the finest make with his cloak, pouches along his belt, rune carved book straped to his side and most importantly.........a pool of blood slowly pooling beneath the strickened Elf.

He is Dying and needs help fast.

Perception check: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16

With the return of light, a flutter of feathers is heard and a hawk descends from its perch to Melchesiech's shoulder. "Ah, Tranh. You survived as well." The elf picks his way through the rubble towards the weaker male voice. "We will save you all...do not fear."

The she dwarf rushed to the wounded elf's side,dropping to her knees,uncaring of the blood sticking her leather dress as she set aside her maulaxe to lay hands upon him.She felt her bones and teeth vibrate with wealing magic that stabilized him,preventing him from slipping away into death while she worked.

Stabilize.

I gotcha.Breathe. You ain't gonna give up th' ghost so long as I gotta hold o'ya.Imma fix you up as best ah c'n fo' move on.I'll come back wit some proper help t' move ya.

Shrugging off her backpack,she undid the clasp and pulled out her healers kit.Unbuttoning it,she set about treating his wounds with what she.had available.

1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4Perception
Unable to see anything other than grays and blacks,she couldn't make out any fine details. Save for the hot metallic tang of lifeblood and the heat coming off it,she had to feel for his wounds and applied pressure to cease the bleeding.Going from his whimpers wherever she prodded,she set about to work with frantic effectiveness,applying salve and binding wounds tight with bandages and tying limbs with strips of leather.

1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 3 + 2 = 20Heal!!

9/10 uses remain for healers kit

The dwarf seems to have his fellow under control, so Melchesiech turns away wordlessly, making his way towards the louder male voice. He pauses to light a torch of his own from Daylen's, his glance falling across the body in the cavalier's arms. The poor human...no. No place for those feelings. The mission is all.

Daylen pulled Thom's now lifeless body into his arms and kissed his forehead, tears silently falling from his eyes. He laid the boy down gently, closed his eyes, and folded his arms over his chest. The peaceful pose seemed at odds with the grievous wounds, but it was all he could do for him now. He tucked the wooden sword under Thom's hands and stood, a crusader's burial. Wiping his eyes, he saw the elf with his own torch now, walking off to where the strong male voice had been heard. In the dim light, he could make out the dwarf woman, tending to a rather dire looking elf.

He turned to the area where he had heard the weak female voice before running off to try and help Thom. He took Keldrom by the reins silently, still not trusting himself to speak. Good boy Keldrom, he thought. And made his way over to find the other survivor.

As Mori drifted back into consciousness, she began trying to get her bearings. Ugh, my head. What happened? She opened her eyes and noticed she was in what appeared to be a cavern dimly lit by the flickering of a torch. I... I was at the festival, then the flash and roar of an explosion. I remember falling backwards. Lying on her back, she reached up and rubbed the sore spot on the back of her head. I must have hit my head. How did I end up here though?

As she laid there trying to remember what had happened, she felt an anxiousness in the back of her mind, pulling her attention back to the here and now. In the past two years she'd gotten used to these sensations, and suspected that they represented some remnant of the kami within her. With a heightened sense of urgency, she rolled over and lifted herself into a low crouch. Scanning the area she tried to get a feel for who or what else might be around.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

Despite her usually keen senses, the combination of quickly rising and the throbbing of the bump on the back of her head made it difficult to focus on the task.

All in all the survivors number only yourselves and 3 others. It seems. The place is in ruins with bodies scattered throughout the area. Some are crushed beneath rubble, other buried and the less fortunate with parts of them seen.

The sad state of things as they are now might make it prudent to ensure adequate supplies.

Daylen had walked in the general direction of the woman's faint voice, but couldn't seem to find her in the darkness. He briefly considered that she may have expired in the time he had ran to Thom's side. He didn't know if he could bear that again, so he called out into the darkness, "Miss, if you're still out there, give me a sign. Call out, make some noise, something."

Perception check: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

"Here....Over....Here."

The voice echoes somewhere to Daylen's left but it's getting weaker. Keldrom on the other hand, looks pointly to the north, ears alert.

Is my left also to the north, or is Keldrom hearing something else?

Daylen swings the torch to his left and walks in that direction, eyes wide, trying to drink in the surroundings in order to find her. Every moment without sight of her made his heart thump just a littler bit louder. He wouldn't let her just die, not when there was a chance he could still save her. "Dead gods, curse this dark!" he muttered under his breath.

Daylen scans the floor of the cavern in the area he heard the voice coming from and sweeps the torch from side to side, hoping the change in the light's position might catch a glint off something she might be wearing. Daylen wonders briefly how many Terendelev was able to save with her last minute magic, and what the state of affairs on the surface must be like.

He imagines a pitched battle between the vastly unprepared crusaders, hastily shoring up defenses across town and the surging demonic forces of the Worldwound. He considers that even if they get out from this cavern, would they come up in friendly territory? Or would they have to fight their way out from behind the demons' front lines? He reasons that that is neither relevant at the immediate moment, nor is it helping him find this poor trapped woman. Finally, he calls out again, "Please, keep talking if you can!"

Shaking off some rubble that had fallen on top of him, Koba-Jol struggles for breath. Voices streamed in around him, taking a while to take up shape.
A dragon! How could a dragon have been defeated. Maybe I was too hasty in coming to join the crusade. What can a lone kobold do when the mightiest have fallen.

Trying to get his bearings Koba-Jol listens to try and pinpoint the various voices that are still audible.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11

Maybe I can help these folk in the darkness, I can be of some use at least

The light from Daylen reveals 2 things.

One, a human woman who is lying prone with her leg at an awkward angle.

Two, a scaled lizard on two legs struggling to get up.

Keldrom you think could have being looking at the lizard.

Koba on the other hands sees light in the hands of a rather well armored human, who reminds him of those who trie to run him out of the city. The horse looks like he could eat him too.......

Mori in her half unconsious state seems to see a flickering light that teases her inner eye.

Mori stands up completely and shakes her head again, fighting off the rest of the daze. Looking around quickly once more, she thinks to herself Well, at least nothing has jumped me yet. Time to investigate that light source.

Moving slowly closer, she eventually sees a man in heavy armor leading a horse. The thought of a horse in these caverns is more than a bit odd to her, but the day certainly hasn't gone out of its way to be sensible so far.

As she nears the man, she grabs her sickle from her belt and utters a word, causing it to light up the surrounding area. She holds it aloft and stops approaching so as not to startle the warrior. "Greetings, might I know your name Sir? I am Mori Fallenoak..." Her introduction trails off as she notices that the man happens to be looking at a small lizard-like humanoid righting itself.

"A kobold? Here?" she says thinking aloud, looking warily at the reptilian being. Thinking there may be others, she scans the surrounding area again.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

What color is the kobold?

Melchesiech notes the half-elf struggling to her feet and calling light. Ah, good. Another spellcaster. We may survive this yet. "Could you assist me, please? There is another human survivor here...Horgus Gwerm, speak so I may find you more easily."

Oi,I gotta elf here I'm tending to.Anybody else need me t' bind some wounds?

Horgus doesn't mince his words as a stream of profanities streak the air.
You could have sworn that the rocks could have changed colors multiple times. Horgus is quite talented indeed as dwarvish, elvish, gnomish, draconic and even celestial curses are blended with an artistry one cannot help but admire.

It also makes finding him much easier.

A well dressed but dust covered man trapped underneath a fallen stone wall with a small space enabling him to breathe. It's propped up by a series of smaller ruins.

Melchesiech props up the torch nearby and gives the curser's situation a cursory glance. "Are you caught on anything? If not, I can cast a spell to make you slippery, so we can more easily pull you free. I do not think I am strong enough to move the wall."

Daylen sees the woman on the ground and relief floods his mind. He starts to walk over to her when he catches sight of the kobold. He stops short, and his hand almost flies to his sword's hilt. He stops himself though, thinking, Calm down and remember your training, a good leader does not simply react, you must assess the situation. Kobolds aren't demons, he must have been in the city prior to the attack, so he must be trustworthy on some level. Still unsure of what to do about the kobold, but assured that he was not an immediate threat, Daylen continued on to where the woman lay with the clearly broken leg.

Before he gets there, he is startled by the appearance of more light and Mori's greeting. He composes himself, shocked that so many survived this catastrophe, and says, "I'm Daylen, Daylen Valdrom. There is a woman here, I think her leg is broken, can you help me get her up?"

With that, Daylen finally makes it over to where the woman is laying. He kneels down next to her, "My name is Daylen, everything is going to be ok. What's your name?" As he speaks, he assesses her situation, to see if she is currently trapped under rubble and how bad her injuries are.

the kobold has green scales where visible, but he is fairly heavily armored

Seeing the heavily armored figure identify himself as Daylen, Koba takes a minute to compose himself before getting up and walking over to where the man seems to be helping a woman.

don’t screw up the first impression Koba-Jol. Maybe this one will be different, I’ll show them I can be trusted

On his way over, Koba quickly glances around him, hoping his darkvision might reveal some avenue of escape in case meeting the others in this situation turns bad.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Calm down, you don’t know they’ll push you away. Old habits die hard I guess, I really hope that horse stays away from me

Upon reaching the man who called himself Daylen, Koba-Jol assesses how he can best help and introduces himself in the best common he can muster, trying to hide his accent as best as possible. “Pleassse do not be alarmed, I am Koba-Jol. Is there any way I can be of assissstance?”

Keldrom whinnied and buck as the kobold approached. Daylen turned from the woman and saw the kobold just behind him. He stood and tried to reassure Keldrom and put the horse at ease. He turned to Koba-Jol, still wary of him. He had never seen a kobold that was interested in speaking, let alone helping others.

Regardless, he stuck out his hand to shake and said, "I am Daylen. This woman is injured, help me clear the rubble off of her. I think her leg is broken, so she'll need to be supported until we can heal her injury."

Daylen turned to Mira, "I think Koba and I can handle this, why don't you go over to help the elf, Melchesiech, or the dwarf, um, actually I don't know her name, but they're both tending to other survivors and I'm sure they could use a hand."

Daylen then set to the task of clearing off rubble that may be pinning the woman to the ground.
I assume a strength check may be in order if she's pinned under any big rocks.
Strength check: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

Between Koba and Daylen, the rocks pinning the human woman down is swiftly cleared away. She introduces herself as Aneevia Tirabade.

Her leg is broken and might require field medical assistance.

Seeing Daylen turn to the woman under the rubble, and the kobold, Koba-Jol, step up to help him, Mori relaxed a bit. "Good to meet you Daylen..." Pausing for a moment she looks Koba over once more. "and you as well Koba."

When Daylen suggests she go help the others, she nods at him.
Having heard a call to help with someone named Horgus, who she assumed had issued the earlier string of profanities, she turns around and heads off. She moves quickly towards the elf with the torch, and when she arrives she says, "Hello, I'm Mori." Looking over the man trapped under the rubble, she tries to get a feel for how the man might best be freed. "Any ideas? I've got rope and could summon some additional help if we need it." she says to the elf.

In a flat voice, the elf replies, "Melchesiech. That would be helpful, I believe."

Daylen knew he wasn't experienced in matters of field triage, but he had some knowledge of the process from watching others. First wedging the torch into a crack in a couple rocks nearby to free his hands, he fished out two pitons from his pack as well as his coil of rope. This wasn't going to be the best splint, but it'd have to do for now. He put both pitons on either side of her leg, the metal stakes beginning above the sickeningly unnatural bend in her leg. He loosely could the rope around, careful not to tighten it yet. When he felt he had a good idea of the amount of rope necessary to bind the leg, he cut the rope at that point.

When everything was ready, and he had assured himself of this, Daylen looked up to the woman's eyes and steeled himself. "This is probably going to hurt, you might want to bite down on something." He turned to the kobold, "I might need a hand here, when I set the leg, we'll need to tighten the rope and bind the leg. On three."

He grasped her leg and prepared himself.
"One.
Two.
Three!"
Heal check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17

Admiring the human's work, Koba sets himself to help as best he can. Quickly wrapping the rope around the splint as soon as Daylen said “three”, Koba tries to be quick but careful to make sure the rope will hold the pitons in place. Starting from the bottom and working up, he looks up at the woman ”one last pull, I isss sorry”

Heal check(aiding Daylen): 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (10) - 1 = 9

Mori sets her pack down and produces the aforementioned rope, slinging the coils over her shoulder.

Turning around, she sets one hand down on the ground and focuses for a moment and a small horse appears. Standing up, she smiles at the animal and rubs it on the head. "We're going to need some help from you if that's alright," she says reassuringly to the animal.

Turning to Mel, she says "You mentioned you could make him slippery? Perhaps between that and the efforts of my friend here we can pull him out carefully. Alternatively, we could try and pull down the wall." With that she tosses the rope around the horse's chest and crosses it over its back, carrying the remainder over to where Horgus is.

A heart rending scream rends the air as Daylen and Koba, while helping the human woman, manages to immobilse her leg though it's not a very pleasant feeling as she faints from the shock.

On the other front.....

Ah!!!! Oww!!! Watch how you command that animal!!! Stupid Stone!!!! Accursed horse!!!! The rope!!!! Not there....Noooooooooooo....Not thereeeeeee!!!! CRASSSSHHHHHH

Daylen's heart went out to the poor woman as she screamed, but this had to be done. He only hoped his work was passing enough that she wouldn't need it rebroken later. He had seen a few men comeback from battle only to need that kind of horrifying pain revistited upon them weeks later. He scooped the now unconscious Aneevia up into his arms and looked around. It seemed the Melchesiech and Mori were getting along well enough with the foul tempered man. He could make them out easily with the lights they had. He thought maybe he could make out the dwarf woman in the shadows as well.

Daylen turned to the Koba and said, "If you could please take that torch and search the area, see what you can turn up. We may have need of whatever you might be able to find. I'm going to take this woman over to the dwarf woman. I believe she's a healer of some fashion."

Using the light of Mira's spell and Melchesiech's torch, Daylen made his way over to the two of them and gently laid Aneevia down in the lighted area. Keldrom had followed close behind and saddled up alongside the new horse that hadn't been there a few moments ago. Daylen stood back up and turned to his fellow survivors, "Has anyone seen the dwarf woman? This woman was injured in the fall and has a broken leg. I've done what I can with what I had, but she passed out from the pain and I'm not sure if it's even going to be enough. It's a pretty bad break, too. Not sure what kind of magic it might take to fix it."

Looking at the torch that had been given to him, Koba shrugs and puts it gently on the ground to make sure it doesn’t go out. Preferring his darkvision he begins to look closely around the edge of the cavern they are in. Pulling out his longsword in case of anything surprising, he focuses on any side tunnels or trying to feel for gusts of air that might signal a tunnel leading up.

just like old times, in the mines some mining venture gone wrong. Trapped with others, although my last ones were a bit more reptilian. How am I supposed to show the courage that kobolds have down here? If I can only provide a way out, or maybe some idea about which direction to at least go I can prove my worth.

Starting to perk up with a way to prove himself, Koba scans the area intensely.

don’t know if you want new perceptions for these or not

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16

I can do this, I can become one of the crusaders against the demon legion, I just need to work with this group to get out of here.

Once the voluble merchant has been extricated, Melchesiech helps him to his feet. "A moment." The wizard gestures in a precise and controlled manner, syllables of archaic Draconic echoing through the cavern. As his cantrip is completed, the dust and debris marring Horgus' attire falls away, leaving it looking clean and pressed (but not, alas, mended). Casting prestidigitation to clean his clothes. "Are you damaged? If not, there are others who are, who may need my--our assistance." He gives Mori a quick nod. "Thank you." Again, although his words are polite enough, the tone of his voice carries no emotion.

Stay still,elf.I'll bring you some more help--I'm afraid that's all I c'n manage is t' ensure you don' slip away.Is there anythin else I c'n be doin f'r you,dearie?Her smoldering voice rumbled in a low soothing murmur as she did her best to relieve most of the injured elf's pains.

Rising the she-dwarf collected her healers satchel and made her way over to the majority of the commotion made by the other survivors.Oi,who needs me healin hand?

She blinked,nose scrunching when she regarded the skittish kobold scampering about the assorted humans,elf,and even more surprising, fully bridled horse.She resisted the urge to assail it out of reflex due to her past experiences with its kind,realizing that it was actively assisting them.

Every creature deserved an even chance. Usually.

Otherwise she herself wouldn't have adopted a halfork child and a goblin babe as her surrogate children.Despite her being not yet old enough for marriage. Both said children awaited her return back at the clan homestead upon the Lonely Coast.

She nodded to each person in turn,mohawked head dipping,and started to examine those in the direst need.

1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 3 + 2 = 17Heal check
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8Perception

Mori nods back at Mel and turns to the poor horse who had to bear the brunt of Horgus' cursing during the extraction. "All done now little one, thank you for your help." She smiles and rubs the animal's snout before uttering a word, causing him to vanish.

Speaking to Mel and Horgus she says "We should go join the others, its probably best if we stick together down here, who knows what manner of creatures may be about."

Pausing for a moment to refresh the light spell on her sickle, she begins walking to join up with the rest of the survivors.

"Agreed. Come with us, Master Gwerm. We must get you, and the rest of us, out of this place as quickly as we can." I will master myself. I will not show my fear.

Keldrom is mildly startled by the sudden disappearance of the small horse. Snorting loudly, he clops back over to stand behind Daylen.

Daylen glances around to see that the majority of the survivors were all present now. He says, "There's a kobold named Koba back there finishing up a search of the area, it seems we have two injured that may not even be able to walk, and there's the four of us plus the kobold that look armed and ready to fight."

Daylen looks up and down the foul-mouthed merchant man. Clearly upset and more than He frowns and asks, "Which leaves you, good sir. I don't suppose you'd be any good with a sword? A man of your obvious stature must have received at least some training with a blade, living as close to the Worldwound as you do. Lacking armor, none expect you on the front lines, but in our current predicament, if you have the skill, a blade would not be amiss." Daylen was no stranger to dealing with entitled nobles, and though many were nothing more than spoiled children grown large, some were surprisingly sharp in both wit and blade. He only hoped this Gwerm would prove to be the latter and not the former. Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Daylen continued, "In any case, the injured can ride Keldrom for the time being. As long as the other one isn't too bad off, that is. Once Koba rejoins us, we can start making our way to the surface. Are there any questions?"

Horgus looks at Daylen

"I have had skill with a blade, a rapier being my weapon of choice. I was trained by the finest of tutors, rest assured on that. You seem trained in both arms and words, perhaps you should get me a weapon so that I may arm myself."

He glances at Melchesiech.
"You're afriad aren't you."

He looks ready to unleash that fearsome tongue of his when he is suddenly interrupted by a rather soft and cultured voice though marred by pain.

"By all that is holy, Horgus you actually survived!! Was it your deals or that loud voice that saved you I wonder?"

It seems to be coming from an injured Elf where E-Terah is.
Aneevia lies where she is, still out of it.

Daylen smiled at Horgus, glad to see that at least he wasn't incapable of defending himself. He laughed a bit, "Ha, if words could slay demons, I'd gladly give you my blade and talk them all to death! Unfortunately, I have no rapier, only my longsword and lance. If you require the sword, I suppose I could make do with the lance."

Turning to where the elf spoke, "I suppose you two know each other? Can you give us your name, master elf? And can you walk or will you require my horse?" Daylen tried to remain calm, but the anxiety he felt in his stomach was creeping up into his throat and he knew it. The longer they stayed in one spot, buried beneath the city, the more likely they would die there. The crusaders above may very well lose the city before they made their ascent. In that case, they would have to fight their way out. And that was a prospect Daylen did not relish.

The elf remains silent to Daylen's question.

Horgus on the other hand....

"Bah. I'll have to take it until i find myself a more refined weapon. At least I do know where we are. We're in Clydwell Plaza or rather part of it. I am exhausted and think that you should at least find supplies and some shelter to treat my wounds. Now are you not glad for someone like myself and not some other weak minor noble's spawn?"

Melchesiech raises an eyebrow at Gwerm, then turns away. Perceptive man despite his bluster. I must not underestimate him. "I will look for anything of use in this area before we move on." The elf again gestures and chants a quick cantrip before looking around the cavern. Casting detect magic.