Rolled 14, 15, 4 = 33 (3d20)
>>6128760>>6128428>>6128338>>6128320>>6128313<span class="mu-g">…</span>
<span class="mu-r">“CZ, you’re up!”</span>
<span class="mu-g">You</span> jump a little at the piercing and unexpected shout of your sister’s command. Zith-Zi is waiting a few paces ahead, where her presence has parted the small sea of humans to reveal the funny young ones with the big, friendly-looking dog. You and the lanky animal make eye contact, and you feel a tingle of something strange, but shrug it off—and, regrettably, Svanhilda’s pleasant voice, though you were only half-listening to her words—to bound down the gangplank.
As you approach ZZ, the human kids she’s speaking to seem to take notice of you anew. You slow in your approach, growing self-conscious as they really register you.
“Like, is that some kind of freaky mask?” chatters the sodden young man, clutching his dog close.
(Funny… You can taste the human’s fear from all the way over here, but nothing of the dog’s, even though they’re both quaking…)
“Uh,” you stammer, distracted.
“I believe she’s some subrace of goblinoid,” notes the orange-tunicked, stout girl with the funny eyes, scrutinizing you a little more closely. “I don’t recognize the breed, though. Where are you from?”
“U-uh??”
You look to ZZ or guidance, but all you get is a click of the tongue and a nod towards the bigger, blonder man. It takes you a moment to parse her intentions—whether she wants you to hex the big guy and his pals, or put on the <Charm>-but after a couple seconds you piece it together.
(You’re glad it’s <Charm>. These people seem nice, and you don’t really like making nice people afraid of you… or, well, you DO, but only until the high wears off, and then you just feel lousy.)
3d20, DC 12 