Quoted By:
1/2
Rowan Lightward
Paladin Level 1
Faith; Lathander
HP; 6/11
AC;11
Straight; 16(+3)
Dex; 12(+1)
Con; 13(+1)
Int; 8(-1)
Wis; 12(+1)
Cha; 14(+2)
Passive perception; 11
Passive investigation; 9
Passive Insight; 13
Spells;
Lay on hand (0/5) (up to 5 HP/day or purify poison/day)
1st level;
Heroism (+2 HP)
Searing Smite (1D6damage, con12 DC)
Language;
Common
Common Sigh Language
Dwarvish.
English (10/100)
Weapons;
Long-sword; 1D20+5 to hit, 1D8+3 damage.
Javelins (6): 1D20+4 thrown/1D20+5 melee to hit. 1D6+3 damage.
M1911A1 pistol (4/7 loaded, 6 spare). 1D20+6. 1D10+3 damage.) Unknown magic.
Items;
Blanket
Holy water
Lantern
Bible (English)
Robe
Tinderbox
Cigarettes pack (3/8)
American wrist clock
Unidentified American novel 1.
Money:
20.41 USD
———
Blood mixes with the fowl water as several shots rings out. Two missing their marks- going through a now ruined painting and the plaster walls, the last finding its mark, splattering the wall with blood and bits of brain.
The man slumped to the ground as the rain began to putter out, Rowan can hear her hart pounding as she finally begins to calm from her battlestate. Without missing a beat the blue clad guards get out of their positions and go to their fallen comrades and checking the last rooms.
Rowan look at the last corpse to litter the scribes offices. The portly, thin striped suit wearing man have a small duffle bag on he’s shoulder- something the warrior missed in the battle. From a slightly open, clasp of some kind, more of those American ‘dollars’ can be seen. Rowan don’t know how she would describe the clasp to another- like teeth that are opened and closed by a strange key-like implement. The man is still clasping the ‘’Tommygun’’, on the ground around hem is some brass casings… <span class="mu-b"> the same caliber of casing as the bullets the 1911 takes </span> the strange…. Presence… inform the woman from within- perhaps from the same 1911 gripped in her hand. The room reeks, between the smell of the foul water, the blood, the results of a corps emptying their bowels, and the alchemical smells the guns make when they shoot. The walls are all covered in bullet holes from the entire ordeal as well as the scribe desks, the once orderly room rendered chaotic by the drum of battle.
