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Aanash
Tiefling Barbarian/Wizard/Warlock/Fighter
AC: 19 HP: 62/63
PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12
Conditions: Blindsense (10), Arcane Ward (5/5), Temp HP (12)
Light Source: Golden Bracelet (Light Cantrip)
It is difficult enough to track fast conversations in a foreign language sometimes, but Aanash perks up as he hears a few consistent words within the mess the dwarf is babbling out. Raising a brow, he quirks his head and listens more intently. "Aha! I get it. He speaks in reverse," he points out to the others. "I did not catch all of the first part. But... something about, he killed them because they were not real. Wants to leave, but," he shrugs his shoulders. "Knows he cannot really leave. Not like he is. He has some clarity, even in the fog of whatever has come over him."
Resting his hand on his hips, Aanash stows his hammer with the other. He has some pity for the dwarf, whether his friends really were not real or whether he just lost it. But the dwarf is right, there is no good way out for him. Maybe there could be a good way out for them... "Let me make a suggestion, good dwarf. As we speak, there are surely hostile warforged from the church of blades or other, surrounding this place. They will be not at all happy with us. If there is no path home and no place here, why not claim a warrior's death as we try to leave?" Aanash holds up a hand towards the door. "You could provide us a distraction. In return, point us to the remains of any of your companions who were still real. We can afford to dump some gold and haul their bodies back to be resurrected."
Spoiler: Actions
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Aanash attempts Persuasion.
(1d20+2)[7]
(1d20+2)[17] if any kind soul would provide Help to this
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Re: Cyre Red (IC)
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