DM:

Uhhhhh... Yeah...

I'm not going to send myself the results, for the record, lol, but I know what's up, in a big way.

AMdG

She was mistaken, of that Sastre was dead certain.

"There is nothing behind us," he told Mizzely, "but certain doom. We continue on." He paused, as the soft words of the approaching soldiers became clearer to his ears. "They are definitely dragonborn warriors," he told the group. "It seems the city is under attack, and the council has now deemed it a good idea to check out these sewers. They are to round up any stragglers they find here, and to kill whatever demonic beasts lurk here as well..."

“Mizzely hasn’t led us wrong yet where scouting is concerned,” Willow said, sheathing her sword for a moment in order to fish a cleaning rag out of her pack. Wrapping the cloth around her injured arm and securing it tightly, the Warden glanced at the druid in concern. “Still, I agree with Sastre,” she admitted with a scowl. “We have no hope of besting that thing, and it seems we have bigger problems, if that’s possible.”

Willow drew her sword once more, an idea occurring to her as she eyed the ruby stain spreading slowly across the front of her makeshift bandage.

But will Sastre ever consent to it? she wondered, thinking back on the Hunter’s already wounded pride.

With a sigh, she decided that it was worth a try.

“What if we were to cover a rag in blood and bandage your face and head?” Willow suggested, turning to face the Hunter. “We could all carry you as if you were wounded, and act hysterical, yelling that the demons had attacked us, or something of the like. If we can divert enough attention to ourselves, they may look right over you,” she finished, waiting to hear the group’s thoughts or suggestions.

Hopefully, they’ll think Mizzely, Rosalyn, and me nothing more than witless girls and do just that, she prayed.

"Pah. That might work for you, hunter. And I doubt the women will be questioned. I, however, am known to the guards and not well liked. I may be questioned for interfering with something or other." The dragonborns look became pained. "I usually am..." He looked around for another route. "Maybe I can head off in another direction so as not to draw too much attention to our group. I know for a fact that if there are any guards, we will be stopped."

---

Guest carried out 1 launched of one d20 (Image not informed.) :

10

+11 Perception. Looking for another route.

_________________
In all things we must know who we are, what we are, and where we are going. Most important of all, if you ask me, is where we came from.

Mizzely looked a little crestfallen at the dismissal of hearing the cries from behind. "I apologize, I didn't mean to alarm anyone. Besides, it is of little consequence, for I myself do not care to have a second round with that creature."

She brought it back to the subject at hand. "If we can mask Sastre that might work...he wasn't hired as a group, so it might thrown them off further that we are all here as well. As for you Craed...Do they know your fox form? Back in the lair of the demon you were able to push yourself to take on a form other than your fox..." at this, she diverted her eyes from him for just a moment, unwilling to meet his gaze on that subject just yet. "If you are concerned with them knowing you in either of your favored forms, might you be able to change into something new?"

Trying to lighten up the moment a bit, Rosalyn spoke up. "You could turn into another Willow. I'd like that very much!" She giggled and then gave Willow a playful wink. "But all joking aside, perhaps you could shift into your fox form and try to sneak past them?"

“This is not the time, Rosalyn,” Willow said, narrowing her eyes at the girl.

“Mizzely, I think you’re on to something. Could you make yourself look more dog-like, and a little smaller, Craed?” she asked, turning her attention to the dragonborn. “If you looked like a common mutt, I doubt they’d pay much attention to you. If we need to, we could make you look injured as well; there’s certainly enough blood to go around, between us.” This last was said with a rueful smile as the Warden flexed her arm gingerly.

DM:

Craed, your check results have been sent via PM.

Everyone, the sounds of the approaching soldiers cease, as if they have stopped their advance. It seems likely that they heard your voices, and are getting ready for something.

Behind you, there is a flash of light, and a wave of heat washes over everyone, as the mysterious demonic creature unleashes its fire breath yet again. You are all out of range of the attack, but you now that, with a little effort, the monster can squeeze down the narrow corridor and come at you from behind.

AMdG

"Very well, give me something to cover my face," the Hunter said through clenched teeth. "But I would suggest we hurry. We have much bigger problems to worry about than those before us, I think." His face paled as he continued, remembering. "I was in Belra, some weeks ago when the demons struck there. It was a massacre, and from what I am hearing up there," he gestured toward the city above, "this situation is no different."

Needing no further prompting, Willow quickly unwound the cloth from her arm once more before digging in her pack for the rest of the lot. She pressed the clean rags to her still-seeping wound until they were sufficiently spotted with blood, and then turned and handed them to the Hunter.

“If you secure your whip and wrap your cloak around yourself, they won’t be able to see your weapons,” she suggested in a hushed tone. “We can say that we were caught by that thing back there, and if they catch a look at it, they’re not likely to question us too closely. Mizzely and Rosalyn,” she said, grinning toward them, “Just act like frightened girls. Sound good?”

"Mon dieu," Sastre muttered under his breath, taking the rag from Willow and wrapping it about his face, leaving only his un-scarred eye uncovered. They may know me by my scar as well as my weapons, he thought, thinking it better not to leave anything to chance. "I do not mean to sound ungrateful, Lady Willow," Sastre said, his voice slightly muffled by the rags, "but do you not think there is enough blood of my own upon my person to be convincing?" He shook his head, securing his whip tightly around his waist as he pulled his ragged, somewhat-charred travel-cloak more tightly about himself.

"I just want to make sure it looks bad enough that they won't want to examine you any closer," the Warden replied with a grin. "You'll thank me if it works."

Lord and Lady, I hope this works... she prayed silently.

Craed whispers to the group. "Quiet. They can hear us and are readying weapons. We must convince them we are friends." He ponders for a moment. "I will try my best." He concentrates and focuses on his beast form. Instead of going the familiar route of the fox, he focused on becoming a dog. Floppy ears, whippy tail. His form shifted and he exulted. Until he opened his eyes and saw a snout with tusks sticking out of his face.

"Aw damn. I'm a boar."

Rosalyn quickly sheathes her longsword before the soldiers show up, then giggles and crouches down to pet Craed in his boar form. "You may want to work on that.", she whispered to him.

DM:

From the direction of the approaching warriors, a booming voice can be heard, shouting down the tunnel. The voice is gravelly, and the language is obviously draconic.

Sastre and Craed, as the only two party members who speak draconic, you are able to understand what the voice is saying. This information has been sent via PM.

AMdG