Hoard of the Dragon Queen IC Thread

HOARD of the DRAGON QUEEN
AS ENACTED BY KINTSUGI'S FINEST.
​

OVERTURE.​

A late spring dusk has settled over the town of Greenest. Despite the late hour, the inn bustles with activity: a trade caravan on its way north from Amn has just arrived, and the inn's staff are scurrying to get it settled before the light fails. You are in the courtyard, which is crowded with merchants, guards, and rubberneckers. Caravans are commonplace in Greenest, especially this time of year, but the fair weather has drawn many of the inn's patrons outside. They're more than happy to sip their drinks and shout idle suggestions to those doing the actual work.

The first you hear of it is a slow, rhythmic whooshing drifting through the calm air, like wind gusting against enormous sails. Once, twice, three times, the grasslands around Greenest rustling as if heralding a storm... and a dark shape passes before the rising moon. You see light glow briefly through translucent wings. Then the dragon screams out of the sky and low over the rooftops, bellowing fit to shake the ground.

In the ringing silence after the roar, the first screams begin. Dark shapes rush toward the edge of town with yells of their own, lighting torches as they come. They are mostly humanoids of varying shapes and sizes, but large scaled creatures bound alongside. One of the invaders, a young halfling in too-large black robes, shouts, in bad Draconic, "Bow before the Queen!" and flings a torch onto a cottage's thatched roof. Greenest is under attack.

 

The wind from the dragon's wings tumbles off Marian's wide-brimmed hat. She seizes it in mid-air and jams it back on her head. Then she snatches up the pack she just set down and shoulders it again, clanking.
"Balls," she says, hefting her shield (painted white, flaking at the edges, with a black bird in flight). "Songsteel, I reckon our drink will have to wait. Are we surrounded?"

Spoiler: OOC

Perception check, for the lay of the land, general surroundings of the inn, how far off the attackers are and how many, etc. d20+1 = 14.

 

Ksualtth snatches one of the many javelins strapped to her back and swings it around before her. In much less awful Draconic, she shouts back "You will be restrained below!" Some concepts are hard to translate. When the invaders don't stop their troublemaking, she snorts, and begins to push her way through the crowd to where she hopes her fellow guards will soon be joining her.

Spoiler: OOC

Salt will begin to move toward the humanoids' presumed leader, her base speed is 30 ft. If she gets about 30 feet from the halfling she'll throw her javelin at him. She's not brooking invaders, and it's not like she can fight the dragon. Better to pull the minions into a fight with the town guard and buy time for the villagers to flee than to flee immediately herself.

Not sure which rolls might be needed, so here's a set:
Initiative: 2 + 2 = 4
(Advantage) 18 + 2 = 20
Javelin Attack: 20 + 4 = Critial Hit?
Javelin Damage: 5 + 6 + 4 +2 (favoured enemy) = 17

...I hope I got close enough with that potential count, and that if I did the halfling mattered, like, at all. If not, oh well.

Edited because I forgot that I have advantage on initiative checks. Also attacks against things that haven't acted yet, not that it matters, here.

 

Spoiler: OOC

nnnot exactly sure what you mean by "lay of the land," so if I skip something you were hoping to hear, let me know! also, for future reference, you needn't roll a Perception check for general details of your surroundings like those; you can just ask, and I'll be happy to hit you up with exposition. :P if by any chance you ask something I do think you should make a check for, I'll just ask you for one, although passive Perception scores are a hell of a thing. tbh I wouldn't've asked you to check for that number estimate, but hey, you already rolled for it... :P

The inn is on the northeastern edge of the town, which means it's about a third of a mile from the town's western border. Directly south of the inn, perhaps 400 ft away, is the largest building in town, a grange of Chauntea (which is to say a temple, since she is a farmers' goddess). At the rear of the grange, there is a fairly sizable stream that defines the southern border of town, and rows of trees grow along the stream's bank. Other features of note are the town square, which is about 500 ft. west of the inn, and the keep. This is small, with a single tower that is rather squat, and sits in the middle of a grassy sward; you can't see it very well from this distance, but there appear to be soldiers on the parapet, staring up at the massive blue dragon lazily circling above the keep.

Spoiler: for Marian's eyes only

As for the other attackers, your impression of their numbers is "a lot"; there's a small army of them swarming into the town. You could get a more accurate number if you sat and counted them for a while, but really the number's immaterial. The inhabitants of Greenest would never be able to drive off all of them.

The invaders are already spreading out into small groups of perhaps four to six each and scattering through the town and its dozens of buildings, though they have not yet entered the inn or its courtyard.

The raiders themselves—or perhaps "pillagers" would be a more accurate term; they are already forcing open doors and smashing windows—are a mixed group. Most numerous are the small reddish kobolds, who despite their size are perfectly willing to terrorize the townspeople. Some groups of kobolds have reptilian companions; some of these are simply giant lizards, but others, while the same size, are more draconic in appearance, though they lack wings.

Second most numerous are well-scarred humanoids, ranging in race from dwarves to half-orcs, and they swing their weapons with practiced ease: mercenaries, the type who take to banditry when circumstances allow. Rarest are humanoids in black robes like the halfling's who shouted earlier. They're a little clumsy with their weapons and don't seem as well-outfitted as the sellswords, but they're certainly the most enthusiastic, rushing about with a fervent gleam in their eyes and shouting orders to everyone else.

Spoiler: book's illustration of this scene, with only slightly dubious origins

 

"Well, if we're lucky, we might be able to get a drink after this is over!" says Honor Songsteel. She pulls out her crossbow and aims it at the halfling. You'd think that if the guy wanted to serve a dragon, he might improve his Draconic. "And not yet. Probably want to avoid that!"

Spoiler: OOC

Initiative: 6+3 = 9

And - Okay, I'm uncertain about where that leaves me in the order of combat, as I mentioned in the OOC thread, but I wanted to just freaking post this before I went to sleep for 6 hrs, so assuming that the halfling is still alive when Honor acts, she will attempt to fire at him with her crossbow.

I'm assuming she's within 80 ft of the halfling here, and thus is in decent crossbow range (as opposed to in disadvantaged crossbow range.) Let me know if that's wrong. (fake edit: though based on my attack roll I don't think it matters lmao)

Crossbow Attack: 3+5 = 8

...well I'm kinda guessing that's not gonna cut it, but just in case:
Crossbow Damage: 5+3 = 8

 

Spoiler: preemptive cw

so this contains ffffairly detailed depictions of violence? which I am inclined to write bc Combat, but if it bothers anyone I can tone this kind of thing down or put entire posts behind spoilers.

The halfling cultist barely has time to meet Ksualtth's Draconic statement with a blank look before her javelin skewers him neatly through the jugular in a spray of veinal blood. He gurgles once, totters, and falls, Honor's crossbow bolt whizzing harmlessly through the space he used to occupy.

The halfling's closest companions, a matted-haired human cultist and a narrow-faced half-elf who wears a choker striped in chromatic dragons' colors, turn to face Honor and Ksualtth with snarls on their faces. They won't be able to get in combat range for a handful of crucial seconds, and Honor and Ksualtth might be able to lose them in the crowd, but they certainly look like they're spoiling for a fight.

Spoiler: OOC

@Helen of Boy and @garden, take 25 XP 13 XP each for participating in this combat. if you want to run away from these new attackers, roll me Dexterity checks, please, and Honor has advantage on hers since she's farther away.

 

Vitae looks up at the loud roaring, glaring into the setting sun trying to find the source of what sounded like a dragon’s wings, or at least he was until is shot overhead. It’s rage reverberating through the chest of everyone in town. He stands still, a bit stunned until he hears the chanting, then he pulls his quarterstaff out and runs to see where the nearest cultist is.

 

"Well, I don't like our chances of punching through," Marian says as Honor looses her shot. "Let's get somewhere we can defend. That temple looks better than the keep right now."

Spoiler: OOC

Gonna take my cues from Honor's next action. If she agrees and cuts for the temple, so will Marian, but Marian will stand and fight if Honor does. Initiative if it becomes relevant is 21.

 

Would you look at that? The halfling had friends. Marian's plan was seeming more appealing by the second. "Sounds like a plan!" Honor says, and darts away, through the chaos of the crowd.

Spoiler: OOC

Dexterity check: 10 + 3 = 13
eta - WHOOPS i forgot i had advantage hold on
Dexterity check: 13 + 3 = 16

 

Noting the movements of other guards and adventurers, Salt gestures broadly to those civilians nearby. "The temple and keep are strong. Be there, where safety lies!" She feints toward the onrushing cultists for a moment before backing up toward the temple, trying to encourage those around her to do the same.

Spoiler: OOC

Dexterity check: 11 + 2 = 13

 

There are so many questions here, it's hard to know what to ask first... But he knows where to start. Thunder pushes past the others from the caravan, moving toward the nearest of the kobolds to grab them by the shoulder. In good Draconic, native even, he asks, "what in the nine hells is this?"

 

The half-elf takes off jogging toward Honor and Salt, spreading his hands in a mystic gesture, and clocks a kobold right in the head. The startled kobold squawks, the cultist turns to curse at them, and the moment is lost.

The human cultist, on the other hand, is not so easily dissuaded. She puts her head down and, legs churning, pulls even with Salt. Somehow she manages to see well enough through her matted hair to make a swipe with her scimitar. It slices through Salt's upper arm, and though it is not crippling, it's very painful.

Spoiler: OOC

half-elf rolled a 2 on the Dex check, but the other cultist matched Salt's with a 13 and got a surprise round. since a 20 definitely hits, @Helen of Boy take 5 slashing damage. and the combat proper has begun now, so I'd like you to roll initiative; the cultist rolled an 18. you can try and run again, but the cultist is definitely going to keep chasing you.

 

The kobold flinches—they are very small, and Thunder's hand is very large—turns around, and falls flat on their face. After a moment you realize that they have not fallen but are intentionally prostrating themselves. "Great one!" they say breathlessly. "We serve noble masters such as yourself for the glory of all dragonkind!"

Five of their companions have knelt in a circle behind them, casting aside their weapons. One of them, considerably more self-possessed than the first kobold, says, "We're gathering treasure for the Cult of the Dragon, my lord." They keep their head bowed, not daring to look Thunder in the eyes.

 

Salt grimaces as the human's sword manages to cut through her scales. Of course, the human had to make her own weapon out of metal to be able to do that. Salt has no such limitation, and even with her hands seemingly free she is far from unarmed.

Spoiler: OOC

Initiative rolls!
15 + 2 = 17
14 + 2 = 16

Pretty similar.

Salt's plan is to use her hungry jaws to take a bite out of the woman that attacked her. If that fails to put her down, Salt'll use her action to attack with another javelin (as drawing one would be part of the action). If the bite puts down the assailant, the javelin will go toward the half-elf. If her adjacent enemy is gone at the end of that, she'll keep moving back.

Bite attack: 8 + 6 = 14
Bite damage: 4 + 4 = 8
Also, if that hits, Salt gains 3 temporary hp.

Javelin attack: 16 + 6 = 22
Javelin damage: 1 + 4 = 5

 

The woman bares her teeth as blood wells from between Salt's scales and attacks again. But she's let her victory go to her head; she pulls her scimitar back farther than is strictly necessary, attempting a showy swing but instead giving Salt ample time to react. Salt sidesteps deftly and takes the blow on her shoulder scales, which are thick enough to stop the blade.

Salt shrugs once, knocking the blade away, and lunges, hissing. She's taller than the cultist, and she uses that height to chomp down on the woman's trapezius. The cultist is thin, and her muscle's a bit stringy, but she still grunts as Salt's teeth dig deep. She raises her arm to push ineffectually at Salt's shoulder. In one smooth movement, Salt unships her javelin, reverses her grip, and drives it deep between the woman's ribs.

The half-elf looks more than a little intimidated by his fellow cultist's fate, and he doesn't move any closer to Salt, but he repeats his earlier gestures. As Salt yanks her javelin free and unclamps her jaws (to her disappointment, the woman's leather pauldrons prevent her from taking a snack for the road), he chants a nonsensical prayer—except for his call to Tiamat. Red light gathers around him like Hell's answer to St. Elmo, then streams toward Salt.

The townspeople Salt called to have long since backed away from the combat. Some stumble away in the general direction of the keep, but others move behind Salt toward the grange, giving her a wide berth as they go. Three of them gravitate toward Honor, who's non-monstrous yet reassuringly armed: two young, frightened human men and a grim-faced halfling matron.

Spoiler: OOC

@Helen of Boy make a DC 12 Dexterity saving throw or take 5 radiant damage. but hey, you get the 3 temporary HP!

edit: half-elf's initiative is 13 if that becomes relevant

 

Vitae runs into the fray, intent on taking at least one cultist down before he has to retreat. He quickly prepares a spell, throwing fire at the half elf near the guard.

Spoiler: OOC

initiative: 20 (I rolled a d20, is that correct?)
Vitae casts produce flame 1d8+2=9 (7+2=9)

 

The light the cultist has summoned is certainly dramatic, but it's also pretty slow. Salt ducks out of the way with ease.

While the cultist is still flabbergasted by the failure of his attack, Vitae rushes toward him from the side. Vitae gestures, whispering and blowing gently into his open palm, and at his encouragement a warm yellow flame ignites there. As it grows, twisting farther into the air, Vitae draws back his hand, then pitches it underhand toward the cultist. The fire catches him across the cheek, and it clings as he tries to shake it off, blazing up into his hair and racing down his robes.

He stands like a torch for a moment; then he opens his mouth, chokes once, and falls in ashes. The strip of skin where his choker used to be is startlingly pale against the rest of his charred-black body.

Spoiler: OOC

@Helen of Boy and @NevermorePoe, take 25 XP each, and the combat is now concluded.

 

"But the fires?" Thunder looks around for an example, and gestures toward the nearest burning building. "Treasures, sure, but nobody wants gathered ashes. Whoever planned this raid..."

Can't have been one of the kobolds, surely. Not when he'd seen one of the full dragons, flying overhead, before they all came swarming into the town. Somebody more important, maybe the dragon themself, decided to come here. With these numbers, the cultists could have safely demolished the caravan. Here, there's enough people to fight back, and the fighting is all around them.

"They're going to get a lot of you killed." He scowls around the words.

Spoiler: OOC

Persuasion: 17-1 = 16

 

The kobold's face is still pressed against the ground, but you don't need to see their expression to interpret their pause as doubtful. "There is much treasure here, my lord," they say hesitantly, "—it is the largest place we have been— and it is not our place to question the wisdom of those such as you, O Great One—"

"But our lords did not give us our orders," pipes up the kobold who spoke before. They are smaller than the one prostrated before Thunder, but they dare to glance up, a brief flicker of golden eyes. "It was the purple human; our Ebony Lady was not there. And," they add in a flare of indignation, "the human was giving orders to the Cyan King, as though he were a human soldier. I heard her."

((edited for wording and needless paranoia that I had used "prostate" when I meant "prostrate"))

 

Marian keeps pace with Honor, hoping that the fleeing townsfolk can reach the grange before another group of attackers does, but prepared to defend if necessary.

Spoiler: OOC

whoops! forgot to actually do in-character what I said I would.