Rolled 7, 3, 3, 14, 7, 20, 15 = 69 (7d20)
>>5371015>17, 15You duck one pick-axe and, with a swing of your thickly-muscled tail, you slam the offending dwarf into his fellow and send them both tumbling into the wall. Neither is dead, but both are stunned, and neither has the same aura of confidence and menace as the helmed-one. You turn to face him, and see that confidence somewhat shaken—but only barely. He is quick to kick the Herbalist aside, eliciting a bleat of pain and a haggard cough as he clears the path between you two. He treads through her pooling blod, trailing it with each footfall.
You have flashbacks to the horn-helmed human from which you took the berserker belt. This dwarfs helmet has no horns, instead more of a leather-and-metal cap with metal rings framing the eyes; he is also only a third the human’s height. Still, you feel the same sense of menace from this mammal. You wish you had that enchanted belt now—the extra boost of vigor would be very welcome at a time like this.
But the <Augmented Dragonshape> wanes. There is no time to waste. You rise from your crouch to meet him, lifting your two swords and guillotining the air before you in an intersecting, rising strike meant to press your reach advantage and to push this bite-sized belligerent back, where you can more elegantly execute him.
[4d20 for you, 3d20 for the enemies (should they survive)]
