(IC) Sif: The Broken Land

[Kio]

Chapter One: The Festival of the Snake

The first rays of Al (The stronger of the two suns) peek over the tops of the mountains to the east, finally granting some heat to the cool, dewey fields within The Bowl. Clouds cruise slowly overhead, their undersides painted red-orange, like lazy beasts with their bellies burned. The lush grass and blooming flowers wait patiently for Al to slowly banish the shadows, and give them the light they have been waiting for all through the night.

The golden effigy of Sif at the tip of the city chapel's main spire glints brightly in the light, a beacon to the bustling people down below that warmth was on the way. City life is in full swing. People bustle through the streets, talking, selling, hurrying, laughing, working. There is an unusual energy in the air, buzzing inside eager conversations and thrumming with the footfalls on the road.

Tonight was the Festival!

Times have been tough recently, and the Festival of the Snake will be a much-needed diversion from the reality of the times for everyone. Two more farmers have had their lands razed this week, and on top of that, Old Mayor Jordan has just recently succumbed to "The Fever" (a strange sickness that has been taking people seemingly at random throughout the city). The Festival of the Snake would allow everyone an excuse to drink, eat, and be merry for a night. As an added bonus, it would create the perfect atmosphere with which to welcome Jolee, the mayor's son, into his new position as Head of Duran, and overseer of the City Council. Women are hanging every scrap of blue and yellow material that they own out their windows, while men climb ladders to hang decorations on well-worn iron nails through the streets. Slowly throughout the morning, preparations come together, and a building anticipation strums throughout the streets.

The city square seems to be the pumping heart of the city. There are paddlers selling masks and dyed kerchiefs, tables where gambling men are already tossing copper and silver pieces away to the wind, and excited children tugging at their mother's dresses, and asking what all the fuss is about.

And at the center of it all, the beautiful Tree of Duran. It was a magnificent oak tree, grown taller than many of the sturdy buildings nearby, and wide enough to shade a decent spread of the square itself. Today, it's branches are being guilded in gold and blue, carefully arranged with small glass orbs, where tonight candles would be lit. Yet, even in morning light, it is a sight to see.

You all find yourselves here, in the square, for one reason or another. One, perhaps within a small store bartering for books, another perhaps trying to find a place for a good bite to eat, and likely another present simply to absorb the morning under the shade of The Tree.

Then, the bustle begins. Yelling... Shouting... Anger... Suddenly, a man comes bursting out of the small dark wood door of a shop on the west side of the square. Apparently, he was pushed, because he collapses onto the ground in what looks like a painful way, scuffing his elbows against the cobbled stones. He is an older man, later in years, but by no means infirm. His greying black hair is pulled tightly into a ponytail behind his head, and his beard is close and trim, as though they are both pieces of some tight military uniform. His simple clothes show the marks of a blacksmith, rips and soot running the length of him, with tough leather tied around his front, and defined marks on his forearms that betray the length of his favorite working gloves.

He pushes himself off of the ground and turns, just in time to see a guardsman exit from the same door he'd just been pushed from. The guardsman screeched at him with the voice of a child who thought he had been terribly wronged. "Idiocy! Lunacy! Outright insubord- insin-... insimboardination!" He was followed by several other men, who seemed even less friendly, even though they wore the shining armor and copper capes of the Royal Gaurd. "Yer tryin ta cheat me, aren't ye' Belthran?! Aren't ye'?!"

The guardsman is below average in height, shorter than his fellows (four of them total), and has a face so red with anger that it almost matches his cape.

"What? You're accusing me of being the cheat? We agreed upon the price before I even began on the sword you daft fool! You can't just dema-"

"EEEEEHHHH?! Ye callin' me daft, ye' old... old..." he struggles to come up with a suitable retort, and in the process the red in his face gets a shade darker. "YOU'RE THE DAFT ONE!" He finally spews, before scrambling for the musket off his back.

The blacksmith raises his hands, taking a shocked step back, as the guardsman struggles to yank the gun off of his shoulder. People in the square begin to mutter and shuffle in disbelief. The guard may have become difficult over time, but they would never simply shoot a man in the street, would they? The other guards don't seem to mind the obvious overreaction. You'd even swear you see one of them chuckle...

[JNAProductions]

Scarlet steps into the area just outside the shop, from where she'd been relaxing up against the tree till now. She's in Duran for the festival-there's enough drinking and merriment at this time of year that it's relatively easy for her to go unnoticed.

Of course, that's about to change.

Gentlemen, gentlemen, explain the situation. Slowly and carefully-you wouldn't want to get burned, she says with a glimmer in her eye.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Can I intentionally breathe for minimum damage? Because if so, Imma roast the guards for 4 damage (2 on a save). If not... Hell, I'll roast them anyway. Casualties can happen, and the guards... Well, I've been in Duran before. If the guards are actually not that bad, then I won't do this, but if they ARE jackasses, then I'll roast them.

Spoiler: If The Guards Are Jackasses

Show

Scarlet steps towards the guards, carefully positioning herself so that she'll hit just the guards and no one more, then lets loose a gout of fire.

(1d6+3)[8] damage minimum if possible, DC 13 Dex save for half damage.

Now talk.

Intimidate
(1d20+5)[10]
(1d20+5)[8] with advantage?

Spoiler: If The Guards Aren't Jackasses

Show

Scarlet moves between the old man and the guards, glaring at both of them equally.

Intimidate
(1d20+5)[19]

[Kio]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

You've been around town enough to know... The gaurds are Jackasses.
Yes, you may breathe for minimum damage.
Saving Throws:
Tall one - (1d20+1)[14] - 2 DMG
Tan one - (1d20+1)[10] - 4 DMG
Bandana one -(1d20+1)[3] - 4 DMG
Tattoo one - (1d20+1)[13] - 2 DMG
Short one - (1d20+1)[12] - 4 DMG

Advantage on the intimidation check - YES
Success on intimidation - NO

The group of gaurds turn slightly as the taunt comes from behind. The tallest one and the one with the raven tattoo manage to leap out of the way in time to only get singed, but the other three (Including the one reaching for the gun) let out yells of surprise and pain as the bout of fire licks the hairs off their arms, and blackens the edges of their hair. Now smoking slightly, the short one squeals in indignant rage, and the others reach for their weapons (spears).

"You'll pay for that, you dirty witch!!"

[Nettlekid]

Mingling with the crowd and standing well apart from the commotion that was about to ensure, a pale Elf is meticulously looking through the wares being hawked enthusiastically and gauging the attitudes of the buyers in the marketplace. Dorcaen picks up mask after mask, looking it over thoroughly and running his fingers along the carved and lacquered wood, before putting it down and moving to the next (possibly to the annoyance of the merchants.) It's curious - he finds the workmanship to be of respectable quality for a practicing child, but the bustling throng is eagerly making purchases as though it was an expert's craft. But, he had to admit to himself, he was impressed at the creativity displayed within these art pieces. Monstrous visages caricatured into a shape that implied their ferocity but muted their fearsome nature so as to be appealing to children, this was the kind of Human creativity that he had started gaining an appreciation for in his time away from Anio. The Elves would have looked down on anything that didn't faithfully recreate nature's product, but in spite of himself he began to enjoy the masks.

He leaves the stalls without making a purchase.

It's about then that he catches the sounds of an argument, a hostility in the air which clashes with the festive spirit of the celebration. Dorcaen gingerly approaches the sounds, joining the gathering crowd that's circling around the dispute. His eyes widen as the flustered Human reaches for his firearm, and he glances to other members of the crowd to see if someone will react. He certainly isn't about to step into the fray himself, a stranger in a strange land, and more importantly with a half century of life left in him rather than these ephemeral Humans. He's pleased to see that someone does indeed take the call, jumping into the mix and using some kind of fire magic to...well, from his point of view he can't imagine this will do anything less than escalate the hostilities. But a fire that burns bright will burn out sooner, might as well see this to the end. Dorcaen is pleased to stay quiet for now, observing as the situation unfolds.

[Kio]

Dorcaen doesn't see it, but the shopkeeper in the mask tent shoots him a quizzical look, then shakes his head, turning to the next customer, muttering something under his breath about elves. The crowd around the elf ebbs and flows around the dangerous events like a tide, and Dorcaen may catch whispers. "Magic.." "Evil spirits..." "How did she do that..?" "She's in trouble now.."
Though noone seems any more prepared to step in and help than Dorcaen himself... At least, not yet...

[josienoms]

Pirella walked through the crowded streets, a small smile on her face as people prepare for the festival. It was the reason she was in town, and it felt nice to have a reason to celebrate these days. She had walked away from her husband and daughters for the moment, letting them peruse the wares of the peddlers while she went towards the blacksmith, to get a replacement for one of her own smithing tools. Instead, it would seem, she only found trouble.

At first, when the young woman stepped in to stop the guard from shooting the blacksmith, Pirella nodded her head in agreement. At least someone had enough sense to stop this needless violence. But as soon as the whispers of witchcraft began to spread, she knew that she had to step in.

The squat Dwarf woman hurried over, her scale mail clinking, as she glared at the guards.

"Gentlemen, please. Let's not forget that you started this."

She gives them a level look.

"And you seem awfully quick to accuse this nice young woman of witchcraft. I have magic too, granted to me by my goddess. Does that make me a witch?"

She turns her head slightly, to give Scarlet what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure that with Varazune's wisdom, we can come to an agreement here."

In case they can't, her hand absently falls to the haft of her warhammer.

[Kio]

The guard nervously level their spears, the tan one and the tall one pointing one each in the direction of Pirella as she approaches. They obviously weren't ready for so many confident persons to immediately reprimand them. They give pause, if only for a moment, then begin to whisper among themselves urgently.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

For those within the same zone as the guards, please make perception checks (that includes if you haven't gone yet)

[Kushina43]

Screecher had been in Duran for the festival, like most people here. While not a festive person, they enjoyed being in the atmosphere where everyone was happy and flowing with life. Screecher had been sitting at the Tree, simply partaking in the atmosphere to relax most of the day. They had just gotten up and was walking by the shop as the altercation occurred, being startled as the shopkeep burst forth almost in front of them. Seeing the threats all around, Screecher was initially hesitant, but as they heard the guards talking about just shooting someone they knew who was in the wrong.

The kenku spoke in the deep, powerful voice of a dragonborn they'd met "Cease at once!" before speaking the incantation necessary for a spell. There was a soft green glow on the ground before vines spurt forth from the earth, attempting to restrain the short, tall, and tan guards before they could harm or call to harm anyone else.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Action:
Spell: Entangle
Strength saving throw vs restrained, DC 13
Area is difficult terrain
Concentration, up to 1 min

Screecher then emits a loud snake's hiss as a warning to all of the guards, enchanting their staff in case the situation were to go further awry.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Bonus Action:
Spell: Shillelagh
Staff uses Wis for att+dmg rolls, is magical
1 min

[Kio]

The soldiers give a start as suddenly a harsh and booming voice of a dragon-born fills the square! Noticeably, each of the soldiers flinch and look around, becoming frantic now. The short one has enough time to let out a whimpered "F-Fenric? How did... You're not supposed to... AHH!!" Suddenly, from between the cobbles, a writing mass of weeds, grass and vines begin to crawl and creep up around the soldier's legs, swollen with magic.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

The tall one - (1d20+1)[12]
The tan one - (1d20+1)[14]
The short one - (1d20+1)[15]

The short one squeals, even though he isn't in any pain, and wrenches himself back and away from the vines. He trips and hits the cobbles with a thump, and the rifle he was holding clatters to the ground noisily. The two guards beside him start stabbing at the vines with their spears, eyes wild with fear, but only one manages to yank himself free. The other is firmly rooted, vines still crawling up his waist, reaching for his chest.

The guard with the raven tattoo shakes his head at the others, and slaps the one wearing the bandana on the arm. he points at Screecher. "Oi. 'taint Fenric, it's just a Kenku wit' 'is fancy mimic'n voice. Go deal wit' it. I'll take the firey 'un"

They both turn, facing their respective targets, and the one with the tattoo Shouts "You, magic users! You will desist immed'tly, and submit to be 'ressted! Yer' charged with disturbin' th' peace, an' assaultin' the gaurd! And you! Clergywoman!" He points towards Pirella "'Owsabout you stay outta this? 'Nless you'd like te' be 'ressted aswell? Go 'ide unner a rock er somewhere where a Dwarf kin mind 'er own buisiness"

[Ramsus]

Windblown Petals of Plumeria Tabaxi Fighter Windblown Petals of Plumeria had been lazing up in the big tree, taking a rest from enjoying the festivities by enjoying the gentle breeze and the colorful view of the town and the music. Hearing sounds of trouble she lifts up the wooden were-tiger mask off her face and leans over to see what's going on. As she does so, one of the somewhat long lengths of colored cloth some children had tied to each of her limbs as they rushed on past audibly tears. She looks down at the guards, gives an exaggerated sigh, and says, "Please stop ruining the festival sir guardsmen. If you hadn't noticed you're outnumbered as well as being outclassed. Even if you won this fight, you'd still be failing at your job of keeping to peace and probably lose your jobs if this town is run by someone with any intellect since you were the ones bringing violence into this. Why not decide to go have a drink and forget all this bad business?" As she speaks she slowly draws Enigma and causally with just hovering barely over her mid-section takes aim with it at the weapon of the guard who escaped the vines. Spoiler Show To note, in Tree of Duran Zone Even though Windblown Petals of Plumeria is terrible at Charisma stuff, I guess I should roll because rolling high is still a possibility. Persuasion/Intimidation: (1d20-1)[1] Readying an action to shoot at the weapon of the guard that escaped the vines if he tries to attack anyone. Not super sure how this works, just going to treat it like a normal attack roll and GM can modify things as needed. Rolls in case they're needed. Attack: (1d20+7)[8] damage: (3d4+3)[9] if crit: (3d4)[8]

[JNAProductions]

You're pathetic. Picking on an old man and a young woman... Your mothers would be ashamed, Scarlet says.

[Kio]

The tattooed guard glances at the Tabaxi speaking from up in the tree and rolls his eyes. "Ah, another 'un. Outnumbered? Failing my duty? Ha! Yer' all lawbreakers! This blacksmith tried te' kill me' friend 'ere, and anyone caught defending 'im will be charged wit' the same crime!" He was obviously lying, but as he sauntered about, confidently spewing falsehoods, the people shied away from him. He obviously had a reputation.

"Oi! Yew lot!" He barked at the other three "Chop yerself outta' those weeds, git up off the ground, and go arrest the kitty and the birdie. The dwarf too ifn' she looks at ye' wrong!"
He turns back towards Scarlet, leveling his spear at her "An' you! Leave me' mum' outta this! I'll knock you a good one fer' that!"

[JNAProductions]

Big man feeling emasculated? Big man gonna cry? Scarlet says, venom and mockery in her voice.

[Fishybugs]

Evan Kallam, 1st level Paladin


First Lifeday, Enset, Year 1500, Age of Discovery

This is the eighteenth day of my trial. It feels like longer. I have tracked the aberration across The Bowl, but seem to have lost him just outside Duran. After circling the city a few times, I'm pretty sure it hasn't come in. As I said before, whatever this creature is...it's smart. Hopefully not smarter than us, but I'm uncertain anymore. No tracks led into the city...though it may be that this vile creature this aberration this monster has the ability to cover it up.

I intend to make a base here. There is a festival going on which I can attend. I'll question members of the community and see if they've seen or heard anything unusual. I'll need to find a place to stay and keep looking---

Evan looked up from his journal as he heard some shouting, followed by a cacophony of voices. He packed up his journal and tossed his jackfruit into a nearby trash. It was almost completely eaten anyway. He pushed his way through the crowd where he sees a half-elven woman arguing with the local constabulary. This seemed strange. The kenku, at least, seemed to have presence of mind to restrain the guards non-lethally as opposed to spewing fire. That half-elf would be one to watch. Study. What was her story? His fingers itched to get his quill and journal back out, but he suddenly realized this was not the time for that.

Evan places himself in front of the blacksmith, positioning himself in a firm stance between the man and the guard. He says nothing, but continues to watch the drama unfold.

Spoiler: Ready an action

Show

If a guard moves to attack the blacksmith, Evan will defend him:

Attack roll: (d20+5)[22] for (d8+3)[6] damage and (d8)[4] if crit

[Kio]

There is a small pause, a held breath throughout the entire square. The air is thick with the threat of violence. Swollen with false importance and the confidence of past success, the Raven-tattooed guard lurches forward with a snarl, thrusting his spear towards Scarlet's stomach! "Yew asked for it, Missy! Maybe yew won't be talkin' so tough after I GUT YE'! At 'em boys!! They've attacked the royal guard! Their blood's forfeit!"

Spoiler: Attack vs Scarlet!

Show

(1d20+3)[6] - MISS
On hit: (1d8+1)[6]
On crit: +(1d8)[3]

The tall one jerks and stabs at the entangling vines, but to no avail! all he can do is grit his teeth at Screecher, filled with confusion and rage "Damned bird!!" he yells.

Spoiler: Attack vs Screecher!

Show

The fact that he refers to you as "Bird" kind of hurts your feelings

The tan one gathers himself, then hefts his spear and fixes his eye on Petals. "Ne' problem Breck! I'll get the kitty fer' ye!" He twirls his spear in what he believes to be an intimidating way (In reality, he looks like an idiot), then grips the spear and charges for Petals. Immediately, Plumeria squeezes the trigger, intending to put this silly guard in his place... But all that comes out of the chamber is a whining click and a soft sizzle! "Ye don't scare me wit' yer toy gun, kitty! Meh'be I'll take yer tail as a prize for whatever pore kid ye' stole it from!" He heaves, throwing the spear with all of his might (terrible form, though, just terrible.)

Spoiler: Attack vs Plumeria!

Show

Disadvantage!
(1d20+3)[17] - HIT
(1d20+3)[22]
On hit: (1d8+1)[3]
On crit: +(1d8)[7]

Note: Your gun jammed!! You must spend an action un-jamming it, or use the other next round! The bullet inside is wasted!

The guard with the bandana keeps his spear at the ready and approaches Pirella threateningly "You heard him! Get lost, dwarf! this is official business of the Duran City Royal Gaurd, so shove off!"

Spoiler: OOC for Pirella

Show

He gets uncomfortably close with his spear point! You see sweat on his brow. He's nervous for some reason?

The short one with the red face whimpers on the ground, then makes a mad scramble for his gun. He grips it and lifts himself to his feet, crazed. "J-just die you stupid-!!" The rest can't be heard, as the square fills with a crack like thunder, and a plume of smoke. He intended for the shot to fly true towards the Blacksmith, but between the guard and the blacksmith stands Evan!

Spoiler: Attack vs Evan!

Show

(1d20+3)[13] - MISS
On hit: (1d10+1)[2]
On crit: +(1d10)[4]

The echoes of the shot reverberate through the square, and the smell of gunsmoke fills the morning air. A gasp rises from the crowd, and everyone looks to Evan and the blacksmith, still standing there. They both seem unharmed, and ther is a moment of silence before people start to boo and jeer. Voices emerge from the crowd, angry and accusatory. It's hard to understand them since they all come at once, but it becomes clear as Belthran the Blacksmith's voice raises over the crowd. "Phelp, you damned fool!! You've shot The Tree!" He almost sounds more upset than if the bullet had hit himself.

Sure enough, a fresh stream of sizzling smoke wafts from a tiny splintered hole on the bark of The Tree. The short one - Phelp - looks around, as if just now realizing that he had been a fool. "I.. it wasn't..." He stuttered.

[JNAProductions]

Scarlet grins and bares her long, sharp teeth at the guard who attacked her. She slashes out with her claws, snicker-snack, and slices into the guard.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

(1d20+5)[11] Attack
(1d4+3)[5] Damage

If the first attack MISSES, do a second attack, as follows:

(1d20+5)[20] Attack
(1d4)[4] Damage

But if it hits, use FEAR ME! to spoop the guard. DC 13 Wisdom save or be Frightened of me for a turn.

[Kio]

The tattooed guard blinks, genuinely shocked that he might have missed, then the claws come down, one of them raking painfully over his shoulder, drawing blood.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

WIS saving throw!
(1d20)[10] - FAIL
Frightened! (Cannot move towards you, and attacks against you have disadvantage!

His eyes widen even further (impressive that he got them to do that), and he takes a shaky step back, "Wh-.. What are you!?"

At the same time, you all notice Plumeria making that stereotypical cat noise as she gets hit by a spear and falls from the Tree of Duran.

[Nettlekid]

Dorcaen taps the shoulder of any reasonable-looking Human, someone who looks surprised and a little scared of this brawl developing.
"Pardon me, I am only a traveller here and not yet used to these lands. Is this manner of spectacle...commonplace, here? For civilians to make the decision to strike armed guards, and for those guards to retaliate by rendering a verdict of execution without trial? It only seems as though this situation escalated very quickly."

[Kio]

The young man whom Dorcean taps on the shoulder seems like a respectable fellow in his own right. Young, but burly, and dark haired. He regarded the spectacle in the street with more than a little bewilderment, shaking his head. "N-no, mr. elf, it's no' commonplace at all! I mean.. Tha' there tattooed fella', 'es called Breck. He's a mean un' fer' sure, givin out 'is fair share o' licks... but 'e's never jus' started yellin fer' blood like tha' 'afore. An' that one, Phelp. E's a slow one, quick to accuse. But 'e's never had a rifle 'afore. Why Breck let 'im get 'is paws on one I don't know. Seems fishy ta' me. Who would wanna 'urt ol Belthran anyway?"
Despite the circumstances, the boy manages to form his thoughts rather well. Seems Dorcaen picked the right person to ask.

[josienoms]

Pirella eyes the spear in her face with a forced air of passivity. It's uncomfortably, dangerously close, after all. The last thing she wants is to get stabbed in the face. And yet, she can't help but notice that it's the guard who seems afraid.

The whole situation had just gotten worse from the moment it began, but she was glad that she wasn't alone in standing up for what was right. The insults, the threats, the violence... These guards were clearly corrupt, and whatever they were here for, it wasn't justice.

"Why don't you put that thing away, boy?"

She takes out her hammer, ready to strike if necessary.

"Before you do something you regret."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Not gonna make an attack just yet, but I'll cast Shield of Faith on myself, giving me +2 AC.

[Kio]

The guard standing in front of Pirella quivers as she spoke. He seemed stuck. Pirella gets the sense that he is stuck in a dilemma. His hands work nervously on his spear, as if he's trying to debate wether to attack or not.

"N-now look... I.. I don't want to have to.. I'm a worshiper of Varazune too... but... I've got orders.. and..."

[Kushina43]

Screecher looks around and lets out a light sigh of exasperation, the situation had escalated as they were afraid of. They walk in front of the restrained guard and hold out a hand as a gesture to stop and surrender, their weapon at the ready in case the guard doesn't comply.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Going to Ready an attack in case the guard either attacks or tries to break free of the vines
Attack: (1d20+5)[25]
(1d20+5)[20]
Advantage from target being restrained
Damage: (1d8+3)[9]
If Crit, add: (1d8)[7]

[Kio]

The tall one struggles at the grasping vines, growling and lashing with his spear. As Screecher gets closer, he starts yelling and swinging wildly "You!! You stupid bird!! I'll get ye for this! I'll pluck ye, and cook ye, an'"
CLUNK!
The staff came down hard with a resounding thud! There was no question, the guard was out like a light. He went completely slack, toppling back into the embrace of the vines, which happily curled about his body. After a moment, Screecher can hear him snoring. He almost seems cozy.

... he WILL have a splitting headache later.

[Ramsus]

Windblown Petals of Plumeria Tabaxi Fighter Windblown Petals of Plumeria assesses the situation as she gets up, slightly less harmed than she seemed a moment ago, and realizes that it might not be a good idea to shoot any of these men and that the one nearby her is now unarmed, with his spear not far from her. A sly smile crosses her face as she grabs the spear off the ground and half-leap half-climbs up the tree. Spoiler Show Tree of Duran Zone Second Wind: (1d10+1)[2] Movement action to stand up. Grabbing the spear off the ground as part of my action (or a bonus action) and just sort of shoving it wherever she can carry it. Activating Feline Agility. Action to Dash and climbing 40 feet up the tree!

[Kio]

The tan one's grin of pleasure suddenly slips into a look of questioning confusion. "Ey... Ey, wot'r you doin'...?"
"No, Ey.. Ey give tha' back, I need that!!! Stop!" He yells, trying to reach in and scoop up the spear. But it was too late. Petals had his weapon now. "Ey! Give tha' back I said!!" He runs to the edge of the tree, looking up at the dissapearing tail of a tabaxi. "'Ey!!"

He stands for a moment, trying to decide wether he should try and climb the tree after her in his armor.. Maybe not a great idea... so he just simmers, looking red in the face.

[Fishybugs]

Evan Kallam Human Paladin

Evan watches the movement of the guards closely. Without taking his eyes off of them, he shifts his body so he is half-facing the blacksmith behind him. "What set off the guard so quickly, sir blacksmith? I don't often see city-appointed guardsman go off like this in public. Mercenaries, maybe."

Spoiler: Ready an action

Show

Again ready an action to attack should a guard approach the blacksmith. Do you want me to reroll that or use the same one since it's unused?

[Kio]

Belthran looks back from the tree to Evan, then shakes his head.
"Hell if I know! He's had a sword commissioned, a mighty fine one. Took me months to finish it! Then, just now, he saunters in with a gun on his shoulder and demands I give it to him for free! Of course, I can't do that. The materials alone kept me from eating fer' a few nights... I knew Phelp was slow, but I didn't realize he was insane!"
The lines on belthran's brow are furrowed deep with anger. Despite this, he speaks levely to Evan.
"Thank you for stepping in. It's lucky that lunatic has terrible aim"

[Fishybugs]

Evan Kallam Human Paladin Evan nods his head in understanding as Belthran relates his story. "Lucky for you, maybe. Not for him, I think. Evan gestures toward the tree. "Based on the people's reactions, I'm guessing this tree has some level of significance to the town?

[Kio]

Belthran nodded, "More than you can know. That tree is... well... it's everything to us around here. They say it's the reason people settled in Duran in the first place. Even children 'round here know how important that tree is. I'd be happy to tell you more about it, if'n you are curious. Usually no one is willing to stand up to Breck and his boys. It's a nice change. Are these people your friends?" He vaguely gestures to the square.

Slightly around the Tree of Duran to the right, the tan one still hops up and down, flicking pebbles and handfuls of dirt up at Petals, but to no real effect. He's devolved to shouting angrily at this point. "Givvit back! That's me' favorite Spear!"

Spoiler: Attack vs Plumeria

Show

throwing pebbles at disadvantage
(1d20-4)[13]
(1d20-4)[11]
If this beats your AC it'll provoke another acrobatics check.

Closer to the shop, Breck slowly backs away from Scarlet, holding his spear up and shivering "S-stay back!"

Spoiler: Attack vs Scarlet!

Show

While he has not attacked yet, Breck is readying an attack for if Scarlet tries to attack him again. This attack is at disadvantage.
(1d20+1)[13]
(1d20+1)[7]

The guard wearing the Bandanna in front of Pirella still seems frozen, confused...

Phelp looks extremely nervous. He takes one look at Evan (who has his hand confidently on his swordhilt), drops the rifle, and bolts for the south exit of the square!

Spoiler: OOC

Show

This action will provoke opportunity attacks from Screecher, then Dorcaen against Phelp. Make these attacks or checks in the OOC

[josienoms]

Pirella takes a deep breath, and puts her hand on the holy symbol around her neck.

"There's no need for this, lad. Why don't you set the spear aside and just tell me what's going on? If I can help you, I will."

She isn't sure if she got her point across, since she knows she's a little gruff and can come off as unfriendly. Still, she hopes that their mutual faith is enough to get the young guard to come to his senses. And if he doesn't, she knew that she still had the option of bopping him over the head with her hammer. Nothing lethal, of course, but maybe he could have some sense knocked into him.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Rolling a persuasion check, with advantage, to get him to stop all this nonsense. Let's hope this works!

(1d20-1)[19]
(1d20-1)[7]