The Blood War Boils Over

[Greyen]

Thorg

Thorg lifts his sword to the sky letting out a roar of victory. Still foaming at the mask he looks around warily for any other attackers.

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Spot (1d20+3)[9] If there is nothing else to kill then he will attempt to calm down.

After a moment if no other attackers are present the half orc's shoulder's slump and he lets out a big wet whoosh of pent up breath. Moving slowly he pulls a rag from his belt and begins to wipe the ichor from his sword.

[Lochar]

Thorg doesn't see any new creatures on the horizon. As he begins cleaning his blade, it strikes an odd picture. The half-orc, completely covered in the ichor himself, holding a semi clean rag cleaning ichor off his blade.

[Greyen]

Thorg

After cleaning his blade he sheathes it carefully. He then begins to shake like a dog, ichor splattering everywhere. Once the large bits are shaken off he begins to walk around the scorpion looking for something suitable to take with him for the bounty on demons.

[Lochar]

The stinger, long as a man's arm, appears to be a good trophy for the bounty, as would an intact skull.

Off in the distance, the blue dragon that the two scorpions were attacking staggers to it's feet and flaps shredded and useless wings, before falling to the ground again.

[Greyen]

Thorg

Thorg glances off into the distance at the dragon for a moment, disregarding it as a threat and saysing to those around Someone go put that thing out of its misery, or hell adopt it as a pet! Raise it up like a nasty little birdy with a broken wing. Aww isn't it cuuute! The sarcasm is thick in his voice.

He walks back to the stinger and chops it off careful of the poisons that are probably going to spew out. He then goes to collect the other stinger.

[GimliFett]

Tynze

"Sure thing." The big man saunters past the others towards the fallen dragon. "Hey! 'Sup?" he calls out to it once he closes to several yards.

[Lochar]

The blue dragon, fully the size of a man, lifts it's head as Tynze approaches. You can hear it speaking as you walk up. "Papa said I shouldn't go out."

When Tynze speaks, the dragon looks over to him, and attempts to stagger to it's feet failing horribly. "Are you here to finish me, not-human?"

Although the dragon can speak, you can see one of it's eyes is slashed out, it's wings are tattered, barely able to even call them wings. Blood trails out of it's body, oozing into the ground, caking below the dragon's body.

[GimliFett]

Tynze

Shaking his head, Tynze continues to approach the dragonling. "Not hardly. I'm always looking for allies, little fella. You managed to survive those beasts," he tips his head back in the direction of the scorpions, "for a bit before we arrived. So you're obviously tough. Where's your papa?"

[Lochar]

The dragon swings it's head towards Tynze completely, so he can look at him through his one good eye. "You ask questions, while I lie here bleeding to death? I never assumed one could actually be talked to death. But if you wish, my papa lives a few hours flight from here. He is clan head."

[GimliFett]

Tynze

Tynze inhales deeply, eyes nearly closed, before exhaling once more and nodding. "Right. Apologies," the big man says as he steps forward and lays a clawed glove on the young dragon.

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Sorry. I'd intended on swapping out those two questions, but accidently hit submit before doing it.
Smelling dragon blood. Probably never had any before...
Anyway, using the Healing Belt, 2 charges: (3d8)[13]

[Lochar]

The most grevious of the dragon's wounds close, although it is no where near the extent of the damage done to it. "Ahhhhh" the dragon hisses as the healing magics work through it. neither it's wings nor eye heal, but the dragon is able to stand now.

"If Papa wasn't controlling the hoards right now, I'd say I owe you your choice from mine." The dragon gives you a toothy grin. "Instead, I myself am indebted to you."

[elkhantar]

Memnoth

The lich dusts of as he lands from the scorpion's claw. I thought they were tougher he mutters while standing up. He doesn't seem very injured, although is hard to notice wounds in his dry, parchment-like body. His nose wrinkles when he inspects a tear in his clothes, but that's the only gesture he makes.

Are you alright? he asks Thorg as he wipes off the scorpion's ichor. The lich keeps at a distance until the mongrel stops shaking, but offers to heal him nonetheless.

Memnoth starts walking towards the dragon whelp. The small dents the scorpion made begin to fade as he does so.You made a friend? he asks Tynze as he closes in to inspect the damage done to the dragon. Making an arcane gesture, the dry lich touches the blue scales and some of the wounds begin to close.

Damage done to your wings and eye is beyond my current healing capabilities he informs but that should help. So, do you have a name?. He inquires once he's done with the healing.

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Memnoth drops the align weapon for a cure serious wounds that heals (3d8+12)[21].
If anyone of the group needs healing (does thorg regenerate?) just let me know OOC (Memnoth can see the wounds) and I'll cast a few healing spells.

[Greyen]

Thorg

Thorg finishes chopping off the other scorpion's stinger. He says to the lich Only about half dead, I'll live. Healing would be appreciated though. He then begins taking handfuls of sand and rubbing down the stingers and the ichor. Caking the gore in sand and scraping it off with his clawed hands. When he is finished he straps the two large stingers crosswize across the top of his pack.

[Lochar]

More of the grevious wounds close, and the blue sighs. "My nickname is Dustscale."

[elkhantar]

Memnoth

The dry lich nods as the blue dragon introduces itself. Well met, Dustscale he says, walking towards Thorg. Have you seen any wandering human around these lands? he inquires as he prepares the prayers of life and death that should close Thorg's wounds. Before the attack, I mean. Concentrating, he makes some more of the wounds disappear from the warrior's body.

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I seriously need to review my spell selection. For now, Memnoth drops three more lvl 3 spells to heal Thorg:
(3d8+12)[22]
(3d8+12)[21]
(3d8+12)[19]
if that's not enough, more spell slots will follow.

[Lochar]

The blue shakes his head. "No I haven't, I'm sorry. But it's hard to see things of that size from a few hundred feet in the sky."

[GimliFett]

Tynze

The big man nods in acceptance of the dragon's words. "A few hundred feet, huh? How'd those things get you?"

[Lochar]

The dragon snorts, and hardened glob of blood goes out it's snout. It looks down at it. "Yuck. Poison. And I was flying and saw them, and wanted to help get rid of them. I didn't realize how big they were until one of their tails speared me. I didn't think those could reach that high. I was just going to use my breath on them until they died."

[GimliFett]

Tynze

"A solid plan, under normal circumstances. You must've dropped a little too low and given them the opportunity to snatch you, eh?" Tynze says with a deep-throated chuckle. "I am Tynze, Herald of Val. We," he indicates himself and the others with a wave of his hand, "are supposed to be locating a wayward member of our troop. I realize you can't fly right now, and there's strength in numbers. Never know when some fiend'll jump out at you, so would you join us for a time?"

[Lochar]

The blue nods his head. "Sure." Dustscale looks at Memnoth. "Do you know the magic to regrow things, like my wings? I realize you might not be able to cast it right now. Or if not, do you know someone who can? I don't want to be landbound forever."

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OOC: Cue corny music. Up in the air, a sign flashes. Dustscale has joined your party as a guest!

[Greyen]

Thorg

The mongrel walk over by the whelp and the others. He slips his mask up over his head and rubs sand overit clumping the quickly drying spittle globs. He is still bleeding from a few places but seems unbothered by it.We dragging this whelp along? He asks the others. Before they can respond he turns on the blue dragon, smiling his own draconic grin You betray us, whelp, and I'll have your head off before you can blink. his voice carries a clear threat.

He steps back a few steps and says looking out over the desert Where were we?

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Intimidate w/o mask (1d20+18)[25]

Survival (1d20+11)[18] To make sure we aren't completely lost and can find out which way we were going, etc. Thorg can't track but he's not trying to track anyone.

Spot (1d20+3)[11]

[Lochar]

The blue looks affronted at Thorg. "You and your friends saved my life. I don't think I'm in any position to betray you. I am not one of the reds, to turn on someone at a whim."

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You know the rough direction back to town, yes.

[Greyen]

Thorg

Thorg call back over his shoulder I've got the blood of reds in my veins. It didn't mix that well with my orcish heritage. Just be warned. He points back the way they came, We came from that way, we going to continue on or begin to circle the post from here?

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About how far out are we from the fort?

[Lochar]

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About an hour out.

[elkhantar]

Memnoth

Since we have no more clues, I guess we should continue circling where we left, yes. he suggests. And if those wounds get any worse just tell me, Thorg. I don't want to loose you before finding the wizard.

After saying that, he turns to speak with the dragon. I do know the magics, although to cast such a spell I would need perhaps more time than you are willing to wait. Nonetheless, those who joined the conclave before me, particularly the eldest ones can perform that feat on a whim. The dry lich tries to mentally recite the prayers that should perform the desired effect, but the required power has always been too much for him. You might be safer at the city, Dustscale he points out. Can you still burrow? he asks Few demons would be able to locate you below the sands, and you could travel with my sand golem as a bodyguard. Once you get to the city and with my golem with you they should let you in. I hope... the last two words don't leave the lich's mouth, although he is not completely sure that affiliation with them would grant the wyrmling entrance to the city.

[Lochar]

The blue shakes his wings for a moment. "I should be able to burrow, yes. And with the healing, at least my wings are no longer raw, so the sand will not rip them apart even more."

[GimliFett]

Tynze

"So. Coming or going?" Tynze asks Dustscale.

[Lochar]

"Going. I'd be more of a burden right now than a help, and Papa will probably eventually send someone to look for me, and the city will be the first place they go."

Dustscale will, if Memnoth has the golem go as well, dig into the sand and quickly sink out of sight, all traces of his hole vanishing the moment he gets under the ground.

[GimliFett]

Tynze

With the golem and dragon departing, Tynze turns back to the others. "Shall we continue? We can back-track the beasts, see if they encountered our missing mage before tormenting Dustscale?"

[elkhantar]

Memnoth

The sand lich sends the golem after the dragon whelp, ordering it to protect it until he requires his assistance again. If you give me a minute I can ask the sands, Memnoth says. It'll sure save us more time than going in the wrong direction

The lich begins to draw some patterns in the sand and throws some amulets, trying to read the way they scatter. Now will we find the wizard earlier if we follow the scorpion's trail rather than continue circling?...

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Memnoth casts Augury. That means an 82% of getting a correct answer (too much failure probability for my tastes )