The First Step

[Chaz Hoosier]

Robin Kirkko

The cleric feels divine power bubbling into his blood as he finishes his spell, and he watches the dwarves shuffle away for a moment. The power of Sune has prevented just a little bit of ugliness from entering the world. When he observes the interaction between Doallyn and the goblin lady he can't help but to smile to himself with his perfect teeth--he takes this fleeting spark of playful flirtation and demure shyness as confirmation that his use of Sune's power was according to her will. This is enough for him, he isn't the sort to look around for credit for his actions.

He stands there for a moment wondering about the many strange creatures in the world, like a bat creature, a tiny dragon, and a purple lizard. After a moment of consideration about the many things to see in this wide world, he remembers his mission and steps into the tavern.

 

---

Description

Robin is a straw haired tomcat. He is tall, strapping, and handsome, with blonde hair carefully tousled for a rakish look, blue eyes, and a strong jaw. He always dresses in clothes that show off his physique. He is, as one would expect of a cleric of Sune, incredibly vain and considers his hair his best feature. His focus on superficial matters might give the impression that he isn't all that bright. One the other hand, be sincerely sees the beauty in other people--whether outer beauty or inner beauty. He carries a shield depicting the face of a beautiful red haired maiden, and has a rosary of glass beads with the same symbol on the end dangling from his belt.

Stat Block

Robin Kirkko
M CG Human Cleric, Level 1, Init 0, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 14, Touch 10, Flat-footed 14, Fort 3, Ref 0, Will 2, Base Attack Bonus 0   
  Morning Star  +2 (1d8+2, x2)
  Dagger   (1d4, 19–20/×2)
  Crossbow, light (Bolts (20)) 0 (1d8, 19–20/×2)
  Studded Leather Armor, Light Wooden Shield (+3 Armor, +1 Shield)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 10, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 16, Cha 14
Condition None

OOC

 

Edited February 15, 2023 by Chaz Hoosier (see edit history)

[Amoren]

Character Sheet

Kaldakaczil
Male Lawful Good Gold Dragon 1, Level 1, Init 1, HP 14/14, Speed 30ft, Swim 30ft
AC 11, Touch 11, Flat-footed 10, Fort 4, Ref 3, Will 1, Base Attack Bonus 1   
  Bite  +4 (1d8+4, x2)
  Unarmored (+1 Dex)
Abilities Str 16, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 8, Cha 14
Conditions None

---

The gold dragon glanced longingly towards the rays of light creeping over the city's walls... He had idly hoped to enjoy basking in the warmth from the desert sun once it was overhead. But... No, this was important. There was plenty of time to relax once he had caught up to Ser Aluric, and this whole vision business had been sorted out!

"Aye, we shouldn't delay if those dreams are to be believed," the dragon replied, eventually, following in behind the human into the tavern.

Edited February 15, 2023 by Amoren (see edit history)

[Ryfte]

DESCRIPTION Elia is a small kobold, well, a dragon really, barely over 2' tall with a tail that is actually a bit longer than she is tall. Her scales are purple, violet, and pink shades, quite vibrant, and her eyes are a luminous aqua blue-green (heavy on the blue). Her fins are more flexible than that of standard kobolds with stronger, more controlled support spines that allow her to flex and relax them, giving her much better control maneuvering in water than her land-bound brethren.

Her "leather" armor, a bluish-gray toned material is rough to the touch, covered in small cartilage ridges from the sea eel its crafted from.| SHEETElia Argus
Female, Neutral Good, Dragonwrought Water Kobold, Warlock 1

---

AC/TAC/FFAC: 19/15/15 | HP: 6/6 | S/D/C/I/W/C: -2/+4/+0/+1/+0/+3 | F/R/W: +0/+4/+2 | Move: 30', Swim 30', Climb 20'
Darkvision 60', DR 2 / Cold Iron, Eldritch Blast 60' RTA 1d6 (20/x2)

---

Elia breathed a small sigh of relief as the situation simply vanished. She tended to avoid physical conflict when she could and this hadn't been any different. In her mind violence was never good for anyone but her talents, unfortunately, weren't really suited for diplomacy, they were much more direct. As Robin moved ahead into the tavern she noted that having a priest there to assist had clearly defused what could have become quite a scuffle.

"Definitely." The little kobold agreed with Kaldakaczil immediately. She'd been in awe of him from the moment she'd met him; a true dragon! She was in fact a dragon as well but this was quite different and she felt blessed to be anywhere he was. The first few days she'd in fact all but fawned over him before she'd gathered her wits about her and calmed herself. Still, his very presence boosted her morale immensely, having a dragon with them! It was almost as if a dream had come true! Her friends and family at home would never believe it.

The sudden shift in temperature as she followed the others into the tavern brought her out of her reverie and she looked around as she stepped to the side, making certain she was out of the way. Others frequently ran into her if she didn't pay attention and she'd long ago learned it was simplest if she simply moved herself, being proactive.

---

OoC

 

Edited February 15, 2023 by Ryfte (see edit history)

[IWantBapo]

Lucas Léonide BlaiseAge 26 | Height 6''0 | Weight 126 lbs. | Hair Blonde | Eyes Gold | Complexion Fair skinned

This male appears to be between five foot nine and six feet, he is clad in scaled-mail baring the symbol of St Cuthbert; god of retribution. His hair is blonde reaching down as far as the edge of his ears with no curls or knots, though the subtle glint of oil portrays a lack of hygiene. Rounded features specifically around his nose, chin, and eyes give the impression that his origins are initially human, despite his unusual birth as an Aasimar.

His equipment consists of the aforementioned scaled-mail which is strapped over a green doublet with a second layer of brown leathers. His shoulders carry the straps of a backpack that appears to be full of various odds and ends; the outer layer consisting of iron buckles, a bedroll, and waterskin all strapped neatly against the burlap folds. His belt has two pouches that lay strapped shut, just beyond them is the hilt of a battleaxe on his right side. | "My Speech" | 'My thoughts' | My actions.

Male Lawful Good Lesser Aasimar 1, Level 1, Init 3, HP 12/12, Speed 30ft
AC 19, Touch 13, Flat-footed 16, Fort 4, Ref 3, Will 2, Base Attack Bonus +1  
Abilities Str 14, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 14
Conditions None

Maneuver Grid

Known Maneuvers	Numerical Value
CRUSADER’S STRIKE	1
VANGUARD STRIKE	2
STONE BONES	3
LEADING THE ATTACK	4
CHARGING MINOTAUR	5

 

---

Lucas continued to watch the spectacle until it had resolved itself. The myriad of adventurous folk coalescing over the situation appeared to resolve it quickly - namely with an unknown arcane incantation, cast by an individual he made a mental note of. Now that the goblins had been moved out of harms way; both literally and figuratively. Lucas takes several steps forward, passing by the golden wyrm and his companion by the cart in order to cross the roadside and enter the tavern that lay ahead.

The door swung open with a subtle creak at his touch, the splintered wood sheltered from his unprotected flesh by the thin layer of leather worn over his hands. Transitioning from the outdoors to the cooled air provided from within was a pleasant experience, he looked forward to an ale once he had time to settle within.

[Ruess]

You have heard the legend. You all have.

Some nonsense that one man delved where entire groups die and came out so rich he bought not only a parcel of land but also built a large, thriving tavern right on top of the entrance he used.

That he, a man of zero renown, took on the home of horrors that is the Undermountain, entirely without allies, and came out not only alive but also hauling enough treasure to retire for good.

 

Yawning Pit Entrance (Or was it Yawning Abyss? Yawning Hole?)
From what you have heard of other travellers, the Yawning Pit is a roomy thing built around a literal pit, an oasis of sorts built out of white sandstone to surround the entrance into the Undermountain that the owner, Durnan, used to enter the Undermountain, and which he uses as much to bar escape for what lives beneath as he does to allow passage to brave souls. To hear the tale, this out of the way tavern is considered one of the few safe methods of entry, and if you have been told true it is the only rtoue that you can use to enter and return the same way.
 

The door is cold to touch and it resists when you push it lightly.  You stand there a second, wondering if you really have to fight a door, and that is when you hear it.

Or, rather... 

You don't hear. And that alarms you.

There are no voices coming from the inside, where people ought to be. There is no music being played, not the smallest peep or whistle. There is no clinking of cutlery or clonking of mugs on tables. In short, the rush of life that taverns are supposed to feature has been removed. Given the hour you cannot even excuse the customers being absent because taverns are frequently open through the entire day. And now that you are looking at the door, it looks like someone - or several someones - have been very forceful with it. A person would be scarred, you think.

You try again. And this time, the door yields you path- into ruin. And it does so with a forceful squeak that fills your ears.

The interior is a ruin. You can see it was once decorated with taste and care; there were tables and chairs; you can see where there was a separate bar section with stools; the floor underfoot was nicely tiled white bricks that have suffered substantial harm... Oh and some parts of the ceiling are on fire.

That would be a problem but you can see three people trying to do something about that. One of them is literally manifesting a harsh rain at the ceiling supports where the rioting fire festers. Two others are heaving globs of water with the help of blue talismans cluthed in their arms. A great amount of smoke billows about, and were you the imaginative sorts you would say it's coiling like a serpent preparing to strike. It's also filling the whole tavern!

So long as you don't in the way, you think these three won't raise an issue about you helping them fight the fire, no matter what form it takes.

Looks like Yawning Pit isn't open for business quite yet...

[ArcaneDesperado]

Doallyn McClare

Character Sheet

Male Neutral Good  Human Wizard,

Init +1 

HP: 5/5 

Speed: 30

AC: 11

Touch: 11 / Flat-footed: 10,

Fort +1 / Ref +1 / Will +3

Base Attack Bonus: +0

Abilities: Str 10, Dex 12, Con 12, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 14
 

 

Well this situation was not on the top three most likely scenarios he would have expected on walking into a tavern.  Let alone one of this one's reputation. He blinked for a moment still in disbelief before his brain clicked into action with his training.  He looked to the closest person in the room, taking in the surroundings.  

Is there anyone else injured in the building that needs help? 

Doallyn shifted his vision to the fire as he waited for the answer. He still had limited knowledge of elementals. Though it was his primary focus of study at the academy. He noted its movements and tried to verify if it was actually moving on its own accord or if the shock of the situation had just given him a moment of fantastical imagination.  

 

[IWantBapo]

Lucas Léonide BlaiseAge 26 | Height 6''0 | Weight 126 lbs. | Hair Blonde | Eyes Gold | Complexion Fair skinned

This male appears to be between five foot nine and six feet, he is clad in scaled-mail baring the symbol of St Cuthbert; god of retribution. His hair is blonde reaching down as far as the edge of his ears with no curls or knots, though the subtle glint of oil portrays a lack of hygiene. Rounded features specifically around his nose, chin, and eyes give the impression that his origins are initially human, despite his unusual birth as an Aasimar.

His equipment consists of the aforementioned scaled-mail which is strapped over a green doublet with a second layer of brown leathers. His shoulders carry the straps of a backpack that appears to be full of various odds and ends; the outer layer consisting of iron buckles, a bedroll, and waterskin all strapped neatly against the burlap folds. His belt has two pouches that lay strapped shut, just beyond them is the hilt of a battleaxe on his right side. | "My Speech" | 'My thoughts' | My actions.

Male Lawful Good Lesser Aasimar 1, Level 1, Init 3, HP 12/12, Speed 30ft
AC 19, Touch 13, Flat-footed 16, Fort 4, Ref 3, Will 2, Base Attack Bonus +1  
Abilities Str 14, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 14
Conditions None

Maneuver Grid

Known Maneuvers	Numerical Value
CRUSADER’S STRIKE	1
VANGUARD STRIKE	2
STONE BONES	3
LEADING THE ATTACK	4
CHARGING MINOTAUR	5

 

---

The scene unfolding around the tavern was cause for great concern, clearly there was work to be done. Taking action, Lucas breaks stride toward whichever buckets of water are made available. Taking the nearest opportunity to empty one into the roof, and then repeat the process as many times as he is able. "This is not ideal, where did the fire come from?"

Edited February 16, 2023 by IWantBapo (see edit history)

[Wiz]

Chira is surprised to see the tavern on fire, but she responds quickly and quietly, gesturing and making strange vocalizations.  Suddenly, two gallons of water spray down in an area about three times that size, applying a small but significant deluge on the hottest part of the fire.

 

Castcreate water

Edited February 16, 2023 by Wiz (see edit history)

[Amoren]

Character Sheet

Kaldakaczil
Male Lawful Good Gold Dragon 1, Level 1, Init 1, HP 14/14, Speed 30ft, Swim 30ft
AC 11, Touch 11, Flat-footed 10, Fort 4, Ref 3, Will 1, Base Attack Bonus 1   
  Bite  +4 (1d8+4, x2)
  Unarmored (+1 Dex)
Abilities Str 16, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 8, Cha 14
Conditions None

---

The gold seemed all too happy to let the kobold buzz around him as she wished, after all he was used to kobolds from the ones which had stubbornly formed a warren around his parent's lair. Granted, the kobolds he used to play with as a hatchling were far less impressed with him since they were used to the far larger, far more majestic, figures of the two adult dragons whose hoards they kept discretely adding tribute towards. That, and they were far less finned - but Kaldakaczil thought that a kobold that could swim through the water almost as well as him was a novel change of pace, and joked that he'd have to find a few to add to his own lair when he was older.

When he inevitably filtered into the tavern and saw the fiery state it was in, the fire dragon immediately turned to trying to find a way up to the source of the flames. He was, after all, unaffected by the flames no matter how close he got to them, which would allow him to find either people or objects caught in the flames that required rescuing. Failing that, he could use his wings and long body in an attempt to smother out the hottest point of the fire to starve it of oxygen, or deliver buckets of water far more accurately to its heart than others.

[Chaz Hoosier]

Robin Kirkko

Robin steps into the tavern and can only blink in disbelief at the chaotic scene for a second or two. What kind of chaotic town is this?! As he perceives what is happening, his hand goes again to his holy symbol. He can't summon much more water than a standard bucket these days, but he can at least aim his spell with more precision than a pail dashed at the ceiling. With a couple lines of scripture a ball of water manifests right in the center of the hottest part of the fire. This is, however, the only spell he has for the time being. He silently thanks Sune before grabbing a bucket and joining the brigade to keep the water coming the old fashioned way.

 

 

 

---

Description

Robin is a straw haired tomcat. He is tall, strapping, and handsome, with blonde hair carefully tousled for a rakish look, blue eyes, and a strong jaw. He always dresses in clothes that show off his physique. He is, as one would expect of a cleric of Sune, incredibly vain and considers his hair his best feature. His focus on superficial matters might give the impression that he isn't all that bright. One the other hand, be sincerely sees the beauty in other people--whether outer beauty or inner beauty. He carries a shield depicting the face of a beautiful red haired maiden, and has a rosary of glass beads with the same symbol on the end dangling from his belt.

Stat Block

Robin Kirkko
M CG Human Cleric, Level 1, Init 0, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 14, Touch 10, Flat-footed 14, Fort 3, Ref 0, Will 2, Base Attack Bonus 0   
  Morning Star  +2 (1d8+2, x2)
  Dagger   (1d4, 19–20/×2)
  Crossbow, light (Bolts (20)) 0 (1d8, 19–20/×2)
  Studded Leather Armor, Light Wooden Shield (+3 Armor, +1 Shield)
Abilities Str 14, Dex 10, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 16, Cha 14
Condition None

OOC

 

Edited February 17, 2023 by Chaz Hoosier (see edit history)

[Ryfte]

DESCRIPTION Elia is a small kobold, well, a dragon really, barely over 2' tall with a tail that is actually a bit longer than she is tall. Her scales are purple, violet, and pink shades, quite vibrant, and her eyes are a luminous aqua blue-green (heavy on the blue). Her fins are more flexible than that of standard kobolds with stronger, more controlled support spines that allow her to flex and relax them, giving her much better control maneuvering in water than her land-bound brethren.

Her "leather" armor, a bluish-gray toned material is rough to the touch, covered in small cartilage ridges from the sea eel its crafted from.| SHEETElia Argus
Female, Neutral Good, Dragonwrought Water Kobold, Warlock 1

---

AC/TAC/FFAC: 19/15/15 | HP: 6/6 | S/D/C/I/W/C: -2/+4/+0/+1/+0/+3 | F/R/W: +0/+4/+2 | Move: 30', Swim 30', Climb 20'
Darkvision 60', DR 2 / Cold Iron, Eldritch Blast 60' RTA 1d6 (20/x2)

---

Fire. It was a scary thing and a wonderful thing all at the same time. Her village didn't worry much about fires, their environment had been so wet that the vegetation, the jungle itself, was almost never at risk. Some of the smaller huts, with thatched roofs had burned down over the years but her people simply took refuge in the nearby water if needed. Rebuilding the simpler structures was always quick and easy and they had an overabundance of material from the jungle itself. This was quite a different situation. Here they were in what was basically a desert and a city baking in the heat of the sun.

Elia didn't want to get in anyone's way but she also wanted to help. She did the only thing she could think of, she held the door open, as wide as it could go, and she called out to those outside the tavern. "A fire! In the tavern! We need water and help!" The little kobold bellowed it out as loudly as she could.

---

OoC

 

[Ruess]

 

You survive: you weather the immense heat of the fire roaring at you; you endure the waves of it that lash at you; you look at it without flinching. And then you throw some more water at the flames, right at the support beams. "Good! Good! Continue!" a distantNo, that can't be right. He was right near you moments ago. voice yells you encouragement.

"Is there anyone else injured in the building that needs help?" 

"Us three here, two in the back!" (Did he hear you wrong? Or misunderstand your question?)

 

You overcome: one bucket at a time you add to the stormfront; every spell adds to the deluge battling the fire. And oh does it hiss, and snarl. You've never heard a fire snarl quite like this.

"This is not ideal, where did the fire come from?"

"Don'tknow!"

 

You overwhelm: there are nine of you, nine heroes in total. That nine becomes fifteen when Elia's hollering draws in a City Watch patrol; that fifteen then grows to seventeen when two iniates from the sanctrum join the literal firefight.

"Roy! Door!"
-She's got it!
"Good!"

 

And... You win: it's that simple and that complicated. Every bucket counts, and oh are there ever so many. With spell and bucket both, there is only one outcome.

You triumph

Though it costs you a great degree of fatigue and leaves you covered in sweat and soot both, the fire has been vanquished and you are guided outside, to sit yourself upon the stairs or a stool that is hauled out. The fresh air of outside is a wonderful thing against the smoke and steam that fill the tavern even after the windows are forced open and the door is forced to stay open. Your eyes sting. And yet, a rush fills you.

It's not every day that heroes first save a group of artisans from thugs and then help save a tavern from a fire.

 

Out in the clear air, seated on a stool or stone, you finally have a moment to observe the three who were inside as you arrive.

The First

The first man is just that: a man. By the look of him he has been kicking a long time at places where wind and rain have worn away both his youth, and his vigor. He looks tired, and he moves slowly now that the excitement is overIt doesn't escape your notice that one of his arms rests by his back, indicating without him knowing that he likely has back pains. And if he doesn't try to hide them, they are likely a long-time peeve of him.. His voice is low but not exceptionally strong. There is a strong presenceIt is much nicer to say there's a presence instead of saying he *reeks* of it. of brine, sea salt, about both him, and his gear. Armored though he may be you can see he is a man of the oceans. HIs dark eyes look you over, one at a time, and it is him who first approaches each of you at a time.

 

"Appreciate you coming to help," he offers you, and tries to smile. (He doesn't manage too well.) "Name's Rolf. A regular. That's Roy in armor. And Varon in soot."

 

Roy

This large person, Roy, looks like any adventurer who has had some succees: he has the armor that looks alright but it doesn't look like it's glowing with magic; there's a few weapons on him, the usual stabbing implements, and a few that you think are hidden; he moves with the ease of someone whose "thing" is to wear heavy armor, and he heard his name mentioned so he is not entirely tuned out of this world once the excitement ends. He waves at his name being mentioned from where he sits by a barrel holding one of the water amulets that he uses to renew a small rain above himself.  

Varon

Varon is a tall man in expensive clothes that look like they were designed for extensive comfort and made by the best paid tailor.

His stance is tightly wound but it contrasts with a forced calm of his physical actions which flow with a natural grace and speed both, yet most curious thing is his stance, which stands otherwise fine but you never see him raise his head from what seems like a constantant... It is not a glower, and neither is it a glare but it is very close to both. It casts a very unwelcoming light upon his self. In particular, it leaves his eyes overshadowed in a manner that feels wholly unsavory at best of times.

 

 

 

 

[ArcaneDesperado]

Doallyn McClare

Character Sheet

Male Neutral Good  Human Wizard,

Init +1 

HP: 5/5 

Speed: 30

AC: 11

Touch: 11 / Flat-footed: 10,

Fort +1 / Ref +1 / Will +3

Base Attack Bonus: +0

Abilities: Str 10, Dex 12, Con 12, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 14
 

 

Doallyn was curious to hear the men's story. But his own curiosity over the hissing fire was pushing him to start his own investigation. There had been so much going on, so quickly.  The fire was out of control.  However he was sure had not imagined the sounds he heard coming from it.  Almost intelligent. Almost.  Still too young and immature to fully have a grasp on their own self.  Like a newborn. Elementites? A swarm forming.  Thousands of diminutive sized beings attempting to come together to birth forth a elemental of greater purpose as all their own separate essences came together.   He was a bit disappointed that he had not been able to study it.   To try and nurture the elemental's forming.  He'd watched his mother do it before in the forest back home.  Sadly though the situation was not a good breeding ground. The middle of a tavern. Lots of wood.  It would have likely feed the creature to maturity but the building would have been ash, and its inhabitants victims of both nature's beauty and wrath. 

He politely excused himself and went back inside the tavern.  Mummering gently to himself he would let the arcane sight cover his visionDetect Magic as he went about seeing if there was any residual arcane marks of what may have set the swarm of fire into the tavern.  Be it a summoning such as his own, or some other portal, or even a broken gem or talisman. He would only have about a minute. But hopefully it would be enough.  He also made sure to look over any of the remaining burning embers that might still be active in the tavern.  One, an ember could potentially reignite and they'd be back to where they started, but an ember could also contain even just one of the elementites they may have survived the drowning of water tossed upon it. 

[Amoren]

Character Sheet

Kaldakaczil
Male Lawful Good Gold Dragon 1, Level 1, Init 1, HP 14/14, Speed 30ft, Swim 30ft
AC 11, Touch 11, Flat-footed 10, Fort 4, Ref 3, Will 1, Base Attack Bonus 1   
  Bite  +4 (1d8+4, x2)
  Unarmored (+1 Dex)
Abilities Str 16, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 8, Cha 14
Conditions None

---

The gold dragon did his best to clear away some of the soot and grime which had fallen on his scales from his rather close method of helping to fight the fire, wishing he could just fly over to the river to rinse himself of the soot tarnishing his yellow scales and be back before their little group met with Durnan. But, with the lethargy of his limbs he'd have no such luck, walking the slow way to the river and back would likely take too much time. But, thinking of which... Where was Durnan? The gold dragon glanced past the three nearest patrons, after having given a respectful nod when he was addressed by Rolf.

Deciding it best to check in on the tavern's owner to ensure that nothing bad had happened to the man that might best answer any questions about their task, the gold would leave the others to talk to the three whilst he checks out the other two figures he could see.

[IWantBapo]

Lucas Léonide BlaiseAge 26 | Height 6''0 | Weight 126 lbs. | Hair Blonde | Eyes Gold | Complexion Fair skinned

This male appears to be between five foot nine and six feet, he is clad in scaled-mail baring the symbol of St Cuthbert; god of retribution. His hair is blonde reaching down as far as the edge of his ears with no curls or knots, though the subtle glint of oil portrays a lack of hygiene. Rounded features specifically around his nose, chin, and eyes give the impression that his origins are initially human, despite his unusual birth as an Aasimar.

His equipment consists of the aforementioned scaled-mail which is strapped over a green doublet with a second layer of brown leathers. His shoulders carry the straps of a backpack that appears to be full of various odds and ends; the outer layer consisting of iron buckles, a bedroll, and waterskin all strapped neatly against the burlap folds. His belt has two pouches that lay strapped shut, just beyond them is the hilt of a battleaxe on his right side. | "My Speech" | 'My thoughts' | My actions.

Male Lawful Good Lesser Aasimar 1, Level 1, Init 3, HP 12/12, Speed 30ft
AC 19, Touch 13, Flat-footed 16, Fort 4, Ref 3, Will 2, Base Attack Bonus +1  
Abilities Str 14, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 14
Conditions None

Maneuver Grid

Known Maneuvers	Numerical Value
CRUSADER’S STRIKE	1
VANGUARD STRIKE	2
STONE BONES	3
LEADING THE ATTACK	4
CHARGING MINOTAUR	5

 

---

Lucas exits the building after a job well done, it had been hard fought but the building would not be left to burn today. Fresh air filled his airway and despite the dryness of the desert it felt like an oasis had washed over his windpipe, he needed a moment to breathe. After a few coughing fits and a brief moment of reprieve, all that remained from the smoke and flames was the heavy feeling in his chest - smoke inhalation was an unfortunate side affect of fire fighting, he supposed. Unconcerned for himself he turned to face the strangers as they were introduced, nodding in acknowledgement to each of them rather than speaking to avoid another coughing fit.