Rolled 14, 6, 7, 1 = 28 (4d20)
>>5439241You feel a force warring against your own Fearsome Presence. Even in the face the essence of your self, your dragon soul made manifest, another will wars against yours… From behind these ghouls, from the tunnels whence came the boulder. In fact… You sense small auras of such presence about each of the dogbolds in this pack of carrion-creatures, as well. These are some sort of… Psychic dogmen, then, driving forces of lesser cousins forward with mental command? Curious…
But no match for a true King. You turn your gaze upon each dogbold in kind, and fix them with the grin which so unsettles the mammals. Each of these field-commanders—well, such as they are—withers and wilts before your terrible smile. You stride forward, and drawing shoggoth blade, swing it like Death’s own scythe through a field of squealing ghouls. You smash and dash them, chop and mash them. You crush them beneath titan footfalls the rumble the cavern floor—with a bit of <Earth Tremor> for emphasis. The monkey-rat things break, their terror of facing you overwhelming their commanders’ control.
>20…And when the dog-headed ghouls see their army abandoning the field, leaving fewer and fewer tiny bodies between you and they, they break and run as well.
You roar in mockery and triumph, rage and righteousness, and fire follows.
[Firebreath check...]
