"We gotta get in 'aer 'n git whoever's in th' temple out 'n to th' keep!" Brax says, quickly moving to the door. Heedless of his own injuries, he begins to help Arianna move the burning obstructions from the door like a dwarf possessed.
Raakuzedu’lon’ros steps back and looks at the temple for any other entrances that they might find access through.
Seeing that the windows are closed shut Raakuzedu’lon’ros assists the others with forcing the door open.
"Gimme some room!" Brax says as he spits on the ground. He backs up, gets a running start, and charges into the door shoulder first.
Rakuuze flies towards the door ... trips over a branch, and faceplants into a pile of smoking straw. After he gets back up and recollects himself, Brax shoulder rushes the door, the impact of the stout dwarf against the doors causing them to burst open in a blast of dust, half-lit straw and splintered wood.
Screams follow, and as the dust clears, and the party steps into the temple, they see dozens of townsfolk huddled behind pews. "No.. They've made it through.." A woman shrieks. "D-don't hurt us. We haven't done anything! Leave us alone!" A man stands in front of his family and holds out a candleabra as if it were a weapon.
A more calm half-elven man wearing a robe emblazoned with Chauntea's symbol stands with the groups. "You don't look like kobolds or cultists. Does this mean... You're here to help us?" He asks nervously. "Or are these the wyrm's minions in disguise?"
The front doors buckle as the battering ram bashes into them again.
"If we were with them, why would we risk out own hides getting in here," Arianna asks as she points to the buckling door. "Besides, I don't think we have the time to be standing here introducing ourselves. We'll get you to safety or die trying. You'll have to take my promise on that," she says as she studies the door to see how long they may have to get everyone out before it gives.
"We're here to get you to the keep."
He glances back towards the door they just entered.
"Orion, and sign of the group that was patrolling? I'm not sure we can get everyone away without being seen by them. If we have to fight them it would be better to use the doorway as a choke-point so they can't swarm us."
He turns back to the survivors.
"If any of you are willing to take up arms, your assistance would be welcome. For that matter, if any of you have healing magic, some of our warriors are wounded, and my magic is depleted."
"Gov'nah Nighthill sent us out ta look fer townsfolk that had'na made it ta safety. I'd say more, but ye got dragun toadies 'n leezard bootlickas at yer front door 'n they not be askin ye fer sanctuary," Brax snorts. "Git these people out 'th back door 'n we can get all 'ah ya to th' keep. It be more secure."
After collecting himself Raakuzedu’lon’ros shuffles into the temple where he sees the others speaking to the townspeople.
"START...filing them out. We...CAN...worry about the patrol if we...ARE...discovered. When they come...AROUND...they will...NOTICE...the back door open...OR...the other minions...DEAD."
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Orion ducks back to reply to Navarre in something less than a shout. "Negative on that, no sign of the patrol.
But, no, I'd not stay here. Outnumbered as we are, the choke-point wouldn't matter, and they're about to come through that door with that ram anyhow, making this whole building a charnel house.
Let's just get these people gone, and we'll worry about pursuit when that happens."
That said, he rushes back to his post at the far corner, waiting for a sign of the enemy.
Arianna looks from the door to the priest, her patience quickly wearing with the failing integrity of the main doors.
The townsfolk scream in terror as the battering ram smashes into the front door again, the cracks it in now large enough to see through.
"Oh my, oh my," the too-calm half-elven priest says. "Kobolds, or six not kobolds claiming to be here to save us? Seems like a pretty easy choice. Come on, we have to be quick. They'll smash through any second!"
"T-take up arms? Against these things? They're monsters! I don't want to die!" A man cries when he hears Navarre's request. But the rest of the townsfolk look to each other nervously, and as soon as one of them bolts for the back door, another three follow. And then another ten make a mad rush for the doors. Even the frightened man screams his way out. And soon, all of the townsfolk are following the party out the door save for one person: a man missing his left arm huddles beneath the altar, whispering prayers with his eyes closed, and ignoring everything going on around him.
*FWOOM* *SMASH* - Kobolds cheer wildly as the left temple door starts to sag on its hinge... Orion peeks around the corner of the temple outside, and sees that the patrol group has started moving alongside the east side of the temple, dancing their way towards the back.
Against his better judgement, Brax runs back to the altar and kneels down by the one armed man. "Yer god wants ye to live. Come with me quickly 'n honor yer god's will," he says, trying to help the man to his feet and bring him along.
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"aaaaaaaaand time to go," Orion chirps at the group, disappearing from the corner and making sure that everything is going along smoothly.
"Brax!" Orion yells as he sees the dwarf running in the wrong direction. "We're about to have company that has the -worst- manners. They don't lift their pinky, they don't wipe their feet, and they don't use doilies when the eat our flesh. Gotta go!"
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"MOVE YER ARSE!"
Arianna's voice is high, shrill, and fully out of patience as she grabs the man and bodily begins to haul him out the door.
"BRAX! HELP ME! I AIN'T DYIN' HERE!"
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"Move yer arse!?" Brax says with an incredulous grin as he and Arianna usher the one armed man out the back door. "Yer gettin more like me by th' minute. Next thing ya know, ya'll be growin' a beard...wieldin' a big battleaxe 'n shoutin' praises ta Moradin.....chasin' afta dwarven wimmen..." the dwarf's words trail off into hearty laughter as the group and the townfolk vanish into the night toward the safety of the tunnel and the keep beyond it.
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"No offense Brax, but I think a beard would ruin her beautiful face. It does well to hide yours, though."
Navarre says with a smirk as he follows them out ready to provide covering fire should the patrol appear.
"What? You don't think I'd looks dashing with a beard as silver as my hair," Arianna chuckles now that everyone was heading to safety. "Let's all make it out of this alive and then we can try drinking each other under the table to see who the real dwarf is."
Arianna grabs the man by his collar and starts dragging him out the back just as the battering ram smashes through the front doors. The rest of the party runs with the townsfolk towards the tunnel. The raiding group rounds the corner to the back doors as Rakuuze's boot disappears into the brush near the stream, and the cultists are none the wiser as to exactly what happened.
Before long, the party is through the tunnel and back into the keep, where Governor Nighthill is elated to see so many of his people safe.
"By the black hand of Bane! Eadyan! I'd thought you dead for sure!" The governor shakes the priest's shoulders. "And so many more of your acolytes." He turns to the party. "You have my utmost thanks for saving these lives, friends. ... Yet unfortunately, the raid continues."
The half-elf priest, whose name you now know as Eadyan, sighs. "Indeed, it does. Now that I am here with the, er, heroes, I am happy to offer my help. If you intend to continue slowing their pillaging, and save more of Greenest's own, perhaps I can heal those wounds of yours." He looks at Brax and Arianna.
"Huh?"
Arianna looks at Eadyan with a puzzled expression, then looks down at her arm where a kobold's blade had slashed it. As the rush from the last several minutes fades, she takes notice of the wound for the first time. Blood runs down from the deep wound, staining her clothing and dripping onto the ground of the keep ever now and then. Her face goes pale and she grimaces as white fire begins to throb in the wound.
"I... I think I might need you to," she says to the priest as she sways a little from the woozy feeling that comes over her.
While the cleric sees to the wounded, Navarre approaches the governor.
"Any news on other groups out there? We are pushing to our limit, but I am loath to take a rest while good people are dying. If there is another rescue to be performed, I will gladly go now. However, I fear that if we are just going door to door looking for survivors we might only add ourselves to the list of casualties."
For the first time since his arrival in Greenest, Brax feels the weight of his wounds and the energy he's exerted take their toll.
I didna realize ahm sa outta fightin' shape, he thought as he made his way over to Eadyan.
"I culd use yer assistance in helping me bones knit," Brax requests. "I got ah feelin' me 'n mah friends 'll be needed agin' 'fore 'th night's done."
Raakuzedu'lon'ros looks back down the storm tunnel as they lead group into the safety of the keep. When aid is offered by the priest the former dragon lets the others have their wounds tended to first before silently approaching the half-elf priest.
"If you are...ABLE...to then I...WILL...not object." When the priest finishes he shuffles over to the others. "What is...OUR...next plan? There must be...MORE...out there. If we are...TO...leave let us rest...FIRST...this will likely be our...ONLY...chance."
"Oh, dear Chauntea, restore her strength,"Eadyan drops his staff and holds a glowing palm over Arianna, only continuing to Brax when he's sure she's able to stand normally once more.
"What's next, you say?" Governor Nighthill looks out over the parapet. "I’d give anything to know what we’re up against, and why! For that, we need prisoners. A commander, even a low-ranking one, is best." Gazing across town, the party sees a dozen guards accompanying a purple-robed woman as they inspect the temple. "However, it's probably not a good idea to go directly for her. Too risky, any any lower-level officer should be able to answer my questions."
Despite the dire situation in town, the party decides a short rest would have them better equipped to save the town, and the party spends a short time resting.
The clock bell rings to signal it's now 2:00 AM - and the party's rest just finishes when the blue dragon swoops low towards the keep - within 25 feet - a rush of wind knocking the Governor off his feet. "The dragon! It's coming!"
The dragon opens its maw and unleashes a blast of lightning breath down on the keep, guards immediately reduced to ash, and another injured. The party feels waves of fear come over them. The dragon swoops away as the breath fades, though it's still within range of arrows, and the keep's guards begin raining arrows up at it.
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Orion considered queing up to be seen by Eadyan, but he figured that others could use the magic healing better, and so in time he wandered off to find an isolated corner in the shade. He spent himself a leisurely hour with a fistful of jerky and a wineskin he'll never say how he acquired.
Feeling muchly restored, he had just roused himself from a few moments' nap when he rejoined the band of rescuers holding court by the governor.
His head followed out the governor's gaze, judging the distance to the purple-robed lady and he reacted much as he thought anyone else would when faced with a dragon attack--
--he hits the ground and hopes he won't be set on fire.
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Arianna was only a few feet away from the guard when blinding blue-white light flashed and blinded her for just a moment. When the spots started to clear, she only say ash blowing in the wind where before there'd been a person. Fear as she looks up and sees the wyrm attacking holds her in place for a few agonizing heartbeats. Claws and fangs and magic are all at its call, she knows. She's sung enough songs and told enough tales to know well the fury a dragon could bring to bear. She reaches for her quiver, but her eyes lock with its eyes, baleful orbs that pierce her through to her soul, and she quailed. How could she think of fighting this thing. It was a monster, a beast of perfect lethality. For the first time since the night she fought Grumple Gnasher, she was mortally afraid.
Older memories come on the heels of the terror of that fight. Memories of nights filled with dark dreams of blood and fire and vague silhouettes she could never have placed. She turns and flees for her life, unable to bear the fear and the gaze of those orbs any longer. She trips just shy of the barrels she is heading for and slams into floor hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs. The dragon roars again sending a cold dagger of terror knifing through her. All she can do is curl up and pray that it didn't notice her silently weeping on the ground.
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Navarre spent the hour by the stables, sitting on the ground and leaning against a bale of hay. Some might find the noise and smell of the horses disruptive to their rest, but Navarre had spent more than a few days working in stables, or for that matter sleeping in them at night. Mercenaries can afford to stay in inns, but when you don't ask a poor farmer to pay you for your aid, sometimes a pile of hay and a roof under your head are luxuries.
He had even nodded off a bit when the dragon attacked. Startled, he jumped to his feet...
... and immediately finds himself far too busy calming horses to go face the dragon. It wasn't a heroic task, but someone had to do it - else the horses might trample countless refugees. That doing so kept him under the shelter of the stable and out of sight of the dragon surely wasn't the real reason...
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As Eadyen calls down Chauntea's healing touch upon Brax, the fresh battle scars he'd received during the group's foray to look for survivors mend and fade away. Feeling refreshing in body, he found a quiet corner in the outer courtyard of the keep where he could sit down and lean back against and recover some much needed energy.
When he feels better, the dwarf stands up and begins to try and locate his companions to discuss a plan to re-enter the town and hunt for an authority figure among the invaders to bring to Governor Nighthill for questioning.
Before he can find his friends, Brax hears Governor Nighthill's warning and feels the rush of wind. The world flashes white in front of his eyes and then the dwarf sees the dragon swooping away from its strafing run over the keep. The aura of lightning seems to superimpose itself in his vision as everything around him appeared to radiate a palish, eerie aura.
As the dragon flies away from the keep, arrows bouncing off of its scaly, well-armored hide, the color of the dragon changes a deep blue to a pale white. Brax's knees begin to shake as he sees the pile of ash that was once a soldier, the unlucky target of the dragon's breath, burned to death by the sub-zero temperature of its icy blast.
"Ye gods....no' agin'..... Brax moaned, falling to his knees, clutching his head in his hands. His muscular form shook with fear. He was back in Highcastle again, helpless to the inaction of his own body as the men under his command charged into battle against the snow-colored monstrosity with amazing pluck, only to realize far too late that their bravery was for naught.
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Raakuzedu'lon'ros sat away from the others gathering his strength back. This body was an unforgiving one and it took more out of him than the other metamorphoses before. Tension ran all throughout his tired limbs, which even now resting he could feel the sporadic spasms.
Quietimg his mind he entered a trance like state to afford his mind the rest it required. Centuries of solitude as a dragon allowed him to enter the tranquil mental plane that still remained untouched no matter how many times his physical body was changed.
It was here he soared high above the lands of Faerun, sometimes alone and sometimes with other gold dragons. Here he paid reverence to his Platinum Lord and sat at his side. And finally here he and his kin battled the Chromatics tearing them down from the...
The roar blasted over him ringing in his ears. The roar spoke one word to anyone who could actually understand it. Death.
Raakuzedu'lon'ros struggled to find his legs all the while his mind screamed for him to get up and take to the air to rip the Chromatic from the sky. But the frail body chose otherwise barely able to cover himself with his shield.
Unlike her would be hero companions it was an understatement to say Eska was already afraid of the dragon. As it swoops down and unleashes lighting upon the desperate townsfolk she is an awe at it's sheer destructive force. Her heart threatens to escape her chest with its furious pounding and her knees are weak.
The smoke, the ash, all the death awakens her memories and her anger. Time seems to slow. Without stopping to think she grabs a discarded bow and takes a shot. Her companions can only look on frozen in their own fear as Eska turns to action.
Eska senses the dragon's primal glee at flaying these lesser creatures around it uncontested. Eska's resolve is tested in a moment that feels like an eternity. She maintains her resolve even if her attack does little more than spit in the eye of this creature.
The dragon's fearful presence has all but Eska shaken in terror. The sorceress ignores the roar and the sheer size of the dragon, instead focusing her anger. As she takes aim, Escobert throws the lever on a ballista and sends a pointed log plunging out towards the moving target. "Dragon! Taste sharpened wood!" He scowls into the night.
Unfortunately, the log just skims past the dragon.
But then Eska releases her arrow, and watches as it sails into the sky, further and further before it plunges into the dragon's left arm. The dragon turns its gaze towards where Eska and the rest of the party stand...
The blue dragon swoops down onto the parapet, the impact of its landing sending a huge tremor ripping through the keep.
It grabs Escobert the Red, the proud, red-haired shield dwarf, squeezing him in its claw like a ragdoll and shattering near every bone in his body. The dwarf's scream is deafening, but the sight of his eyes rolling back in his head even worse as the dragon throws him across the keep courtyard.
If that weren't enough, it swipes its other claw out at Eska, slashing her body open. She falls unconscious from the blood loss and pain.
"Escobert... No!" Nighthill runs back to check on him, Eadyan joining him. "We're no match for that thing, we need to seek cover!"
Luckily, five of Greenest's more brave guards storm up the parapet towards the dragon.
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Screams and blood flow around Orion as wine to the drunkard or milk to the babe, but all pale in comparison to the thought of being caught in that terrifying lightning.
Arianna looks up to see the wyrm on the parapet and with Eska in its claw. She had to do something, but fear kept her from moving to help. Her sense of duty wars with the almost overwhelming need to run, and she shakily readies the bow she'd been given. Tears stream down her face as she knows that she'll die for what she's about to do, and yet she'll do it anyway. She needed to do something, anything, to help Eska, even if she didn't agree with how the woman operated.
Her body quakes as she pulls the string back, then lets fly.
The arrow flies true, and even as it streaks towards the dragon, Arianna draws another and runs to get out of line of sight of it before it can bring its deadly breath to bear on her.
A horrible scream causes Brax to look up just in time to see the dragon crush Escobert like grapes in a winepress and then split Eska wide open as if she were made of paper.
Brax stands up, his mind screaming at him to take up his axe and avenge his fallen comrade, but the fear of the gigantic wyrm and reliving the memory of that horrible day was still too strong for him to muster up the nerve to do what must be done.
"Ya scaly bastard!" he cries out in anguish.
Raakuzedu'lon'ros's mind continues to scream at his body to no avail. He looks to see Eska now lying on the ground almost cleaved in half by the Chromatic's claw.
He stretches towards to help pull her closer to him even as he watches Arianna take aim at the Chromatic.
Navarre heard Escobert's scream, and saw Eska get slashed to ribbons. He knew she needed his magic... but still, he couldn't bring himself to approach. He would not do nothing however.
With a a wordless roar of anger, he unleashes an eldritch blast at the dragon...
...or at least, in the direction of the dragon, which turned out to be just 'vaguely into the sky'.
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Fighting against every instinct within him, he rises. Standing on shaky legs, shaky hands bring his weapon up. Shaky fingers feed a shaky bolt into his trusty crossbow. The sights dance upon the sky like a drunk air spirit, but he tries to fight, tries to strike a blow that will turn the tide....
And the bolt simply drops out, having not been loaded properly.
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Claws come for Eska and then there is nothing but darkness. She falls to the floor. She never wanted this fight; three men, not an army of kobolds not a Giant Hellspawned Dragon. She understands now the worship of these cultists and having wounded it she knows also that their god bleeds. Something in Eska takes pleasure in knowing that even in what is sure to be her final moments.
Just like on That Day there is a force within her that refuses to let her die.
Eska is shocked awake by her will to fight. She slashes wildly, screaming incomprehensible in some foreign tongue
One of her daggers finds purchase in a tender spot in the giant creature's scales. Her tiny nature is overshadowed by her tenacity and sheer ferocity a match for any dragon. In this she shares a kindred moment somewhere deep inside of her with the Blue dragon.
The blue dragon shakes the keep walls as it grunts in pain from Arianna's arrow plunging into hits underbelly. And then, whether by some stroke of divine intervention or perhaps Eska's inner blue dragon awakening, the sorceress scowls in the tongue of the dragon itself and plunges her dagger into the dragon's maw, knocking one of its six-inch razor sharp teeth to her feet and creating a wound big enough to leave a scar.
The dragon roars in anger and flaps its wings wildly, knocking the party off their feet. It takes flight and turns, lashing its tail once more to send a heap of stone quaking off the top of the wall, and then you watch as it flies up across the haze, further, and further away from Greenest.
The world spins and spins and spins for Eska. She's not quite sure where she is or what just transpired.
"Did I just win?" she manages to weakly comment as if the words don't quite mean anything to her. Finally she collapses covered in dragon blood.
Rising to his feet Raakuzedu'lon'ros gives Eska a long, long, long look as he brings her to her feet. Only when she is coherent does he speak to her.
ऒएटठछचउऌतगऊ चऒऐइघङच ऒचउऌत ऒऐघङच
"Bahamut must bless you. I had not seen it at first but there is no doubt you are touched. No normal creature would have stood before the roar of that Chromatic. What line do you trace back to. From whose scale were you born?"
Eska snatches the dragon tooth and leans heavily on Raakuzedu'lon'ros with little to no strength left in her after walking back from death's door.
कोई परिवार नहीं सभी राख
She fights back against tears but hasn't the strength for that either. She tries to change the subject but perhaps Raakuze who she named Dragonslayer finds his answer anyway as she looks out into the distance to which the blue dragon had fled
दयालु और स्मृति
Raakuzedu'lon'ros nods solemnly. Something about her still caused a small part of him to be guarded but she had proved herself and that is what mattered now. He quieted that inner voice.
चऒऐइघङच ऒचउऌत
"Rest now. You have earned that. The Chromatic is gone. They have little courage when they face ones who will stand against them with no fear."
Leading Eska away from the wall they headed for the stairs drawing close to a group of soldiers that stood still gaping at Eska. Quickly Raakuzedu'lon'ros shouted orders at them "Find the priest...NOW!..She needs...AID!"
Brax clamored to his feet, suddenly able to tap into the courage that had been supressed in the presence of the dragon. Meaning to rush to Eska's aid, the dwarf sees that Raa'kuze has already reached the sorceress and is aiding her back toward the keep.
Looking around, trying to find something to do, Brax sees a group of people surrounding a kindred spirit in Escobert. "Lemme through!" he bellows out as he pushes his way to the fallen dwarf's side. Ripping some strips of his shirt off, Brax starts trying to patch up Escobert, trying to keep his blood and his life from slipping away into the night.
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Arianna watches as the dragon flies off, not wanting to deal with Eska, though it could have killed her easily. While Brax and Raakuze go to the fallen, Arianna could only shiver as the fear rolled through her. She has stung it, yes, but it would remember. It would hate her.
She wanders to the darkest, least crowded corner of the keep she can find and cries. Her sobs are soft, but they echo off the stone around her like a damning curse. She remembers the way Redrock's people had cheered after they'd found her alive and miraculously unhurt after her harrowing fight with the ogre terrorizing them, and the other times she'd helped people in need. Some had thrown parties that were wild and lasted until dawn, others quietly thanked her and offered her food and a place to sleep until she'd recovered from the ordeal.
Those memories sting like venom in her veins. She isn't brave nor strong nor wise. She is a fool for thinking that she could help anyone. How is she supposed to help against a dragon? Greenest isn't the largest town, and there are bound to be more dragons with whatever group these were with. How would they fight them off next time.
They may have won this fight, but there is no hope, she thinks as she buries her head into her knees.
The militia are hauling injured and dead forces over to what has become something of a temporary hospital inside the keep's courtyard. They carry Eska over as well, and Brax finds Escobert lying on a wooden table, soaked in sweat and blood. He's quick to assist in stemming the bleeding.
"So little healing to go around," Eadyan Falconmoon dryly remarks, standing over the body. "I can use this particular spell twice more before it's exhausted, and you two need it." The elf calmly chants a prayer as he lays his palms down.
The energy flows into both Esco and Eska, and their wounds pull closed. Escobert coughs awake, and he dwarf pats all of his pockets frantically as if looking for something. "Ugh, all out of traveler's dust..." He mumbles, his eyes unusually bloodshot.
"Chauntea's healing won't cure a drug addiction," Eadyan scoffs.
Governor Nighthill grunts, as if he's about to admonish the dwarven guard, but stops himself. "Er... Escobert will be fine for now. And well done with that dragon! It looks like he's gone for good, even if some of the more determined raiders are still out there."