Rolled 20, 17, 6, 17, 5 = 65 (5d20)
>>5676048>>5676060>>5676115>>5676170This THING… This ‘goliath’ from below… it is stronger than you. Faster. Better-armoured. Can a sword even penetrate such stone as it is made from? It uninjured, while you grow ever worse-off for your encounters with this thing and its minions. If you’re to survive, let alone to WIN here, you need to do something and do it fast—something titanic in the way the Goliath is titanic. Something beyond a raw contest of strength and speed.
You speak.
“HALT!” you bellow.
“Dragonborn!”
“Theral!”
“You Fat-headed and Foolish One, help me!”
The cries of your allies greet you as, implacable and emotionless, the Goliath approaches them, kicking up a crashing tidal wave of rock, dirt, and debris in its wake. You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing all your mystical energies upon your lungs, and then you open eyes and maw and with all your Fearsome Presence and the <Voice of the Metatron> you again shout…
<HALT!>
