D&D Campaigns > Game Log

Session 11.1 - The Escape

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Dray:
One moment, the adventurers were standing in the middle of the Lizardfolk massacre, the next, somewhere else, with nothing in between except the speaking of the command word by Azarian.

They stood in an ancient ruined city, one of marble that was slowly losing its battle against time and encroaching nature. Above them was an open and clear night sky, the light of the moon bathing the city square where they stood.

Dariooq, Scale, Erinalia, and Azarian all stood motionless over Garbhan?s unconscious form as the shock of teleporting past them.

The staff that they all touched was now lightly smoking and charred from top to bottom, everyone but Azarian instinctively let go. Azarian in turn, raised it in front of him to look at it closer, and was quickly enraged.

?Damn it!? he said as he threw the staff at a nearby boulder, upon which the now brittle piece of wood splintered into dozens of pieces.

Griznuq:
Scale makes no outward reaction.

fraz:
Erin stood up straight, obviously feeling much better.  "Thank you Azarian..." Then realizing the what she had just done...

"Oh my!  Great Mother, forgive me!  Scale will hate me now!" She glanced nervously in the direction of the intimidating lizardman.  "I'm so sorry!  Is this bad?  What can I do to set it right?"

She then began to quickly gather her scattered belongings (the bandages, salves and her quarterstaff).

Griznuq:
Scale grimmaced. "I'll not be carrying that bag."

Johan:
Dariooq's head snapped around at the sound of Erinalia's retching.

His eyes widened to their fullest, and he looked at Scale. "If blood on this ground is bad, that certainly can't be good." He said.

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