>>5528860>Rolled 16 (1d20)You leap from your sprint, drop, and tense, your legs out and boots flat. Your boots find their way into his back as he bends to pick up his wand, and he takes a few involuntary few steps forward before he careens off the ledge with little aplomb. You watch the hitman go bottom side up just as your moss person crests over the peak of the cliff, face slick with sweat.
You can’t help but stand frozen for just a moment too long. “Excuse me, Molly.” You tuck past the wild woman as you run to the ledge, heart like a drum beat in your chest–were you lucky enough perhaps impale the wizard on some ogre’s tooth, or for him to just land on his head..? You squint into the low trash heap.
You find the wizard stood tall in the dark–his robes a bit more sordid, perhaps, but head otherwise intact and wand in hand. The assassin bends down to pluck a curio up from off the floor and raises it up to you in a mock toast–a pale, floral green teacup. Your master is nowhere to be seen!
You curse beneath your breath–polymorphing comes undone naturally with time, but it’s grueling to undo by force. You’re unsure if you’ll be able to pluck your master from her porcelain form lest you defeat the hitman yourself..
>Leap down yourself! How dare he besmirch your lady’s honor! She deserves to at least be a teapot.>Shout him down. Perhaps you can negotiate. He doesn’t seem quite as intent on killing you so much as he’s interested in turning you into trinkets.>You have the high ground! Toss a WILD CARD spell at him from here.>Ask if your moss person could leap down and wrestle him.>Write-In. 