Chapter Four: The Manifest of the Harikan Squall

Sure!

Everybody gets an early Christmas present: you all have Inspiration.

Felor, Leth, Mordred, it's your turns.

While we're waiting for Felor, Leth, and Mordred to shake off their eggnog hangovers and get back in the swing, anybody who's around should feel free to roll checks for whatever passive mental skills they can come up with a justification for -- Perception, Insight, etc.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zangua sees a shadow pass swiftly over the face of the moon.

Felor, Leth, Mordred, it's your turns.

A slow smile spreads across Adan's battered face as Leth lays down his weapons.

Felor and Mordred, you're up!

Hi everyone! Octo, can we get an overview of where everyone is and how injured (or not) the NPCs appear to be as a reminder?

Mordred is at 8/23 HP.

Darux and Adan are pretty bloodied, but the False Acolyte is only a little scratched up. Here's a rough diagram of the battle map, usual disclaimers about scale and accuracy apply:



Edit: "Call not upon your heathen gods!" the priestess roars, but Adan appears to be unaffected regardless. In the silence that follows the priestess' rebuke of Felor's unanswered prayer, there is no warning of what comes next.

Six shards of radiant green light descend from the sky like shooting stars, falling upon the two guards.

Butts, that's against my spell save DC right? Which is 13, so Person not Holded.

Dang, so I might have been able to outright kill Adan after all...

The guards are knocked to the ground, howling and writhing in pain. Something swoops down from the sky, landing swiftly but light-footedly beside Adan.

It's a man in a long, silky black cloak, perhaps forty years old, with long brown hair parted down the middle and large, intense blue eyes under a heavy brow. He glances down at the fallen guards, then over at the party.

"Adan, Adan. Why do you get us into such messes?" he asks.

Edit: Party members, any of you may take an action now. Please note that if you attack the flying man, you do so at Disadvantage.

Zangua leaps over the injured guards and shoves past the black-cloaked man to attack Adan, swinging at air with his club but bringing his axe down hard on Adan's clavicle. The false acolyte holds him tightly by the shoulders from behind, dragging him back, repetitively chanting in a sonorous voice. Even as blood pours down his front, Adan keeps his eyes on Zangua and a hard grip on the catchpole.

Edit: The black-cloaked man's shoulder suddenly bursts into flame. He gives it a quizzical look. "I don't like these people, Adan. Best to fly. We have what we need; the greater work beckons." He pats the flame down. Adan lets go of the catchpole with one hand and starts to make little gestures with it as he mutters something through bloodied lips.

"What is this!? What is this!? Stop, please! This violence must end!" the priestess begs you all. Her cry goes unheard by the angry mob descending upon Darux.

Edit 2: Darux manages to give most of them the slip, but one wiry young beggar tackles him at the waist, bringing both of them crashing to the ground. An older woman with a missing tooth rushes up to Domarc-as-Zora, clutching her by the upper arm. "Are you hurt, my dear? Are you--" She breaks off, seeming to realize the incongruity of the way the arm looks and the way it feels under her touch.

Domarc, Leth, Mordred, you're up.