Rolled 8, 20, 8, 20, 5, 11, 20, 17 = 109 (8d20)
>>5189605>>5189611>>5189990>>5190246You and your better-bred comrade Roth step out into the streets of Hawksong. It is dark, but even so, you find yourself hesitant to don your leafweave armour or your bloodied magic cloak. After all, both are distinguishing features that will be immediately recognizable to those forces of Tower and Crown investigating the demonic attacks around the city. However, if you face down Paladins or Inquisitors again, you may have need of these protections.
“You may wish to avert your eyes, to pressserve your purity,” you teasing warn Roth as you uncork the scroll-case containing your tracker.
Roth rolls his eyes and snorts in annoyance, though whether at your continued reliance on devilry or at your jibe, you cannot say.
Brezzog, emerging from the case head-first, shake himself as his ectoplasm fills out into something mid-way between his original great size and the much-diminished state which his defeat consigned him to. The hellhound looks to you, inscrutable in its alien expression—even its aura and body language are unreadable to you, though through Irinnile you sense annoyance.
“You would rather be with The Incubusss,” you note.
“Yes,” Brezzog says, succinct and to the point. “Knights… Pain.”
“Hurry in helping usss, and you will return to your masster all the sssooner.”
Brezzog snorts now, and in a curious way, its attitude reminds you of Roth.
‘They do make a cute couple,’ Irinnile sniggers.
“Guide usss,” you instruct the hound. “We sseek the mantid… The lasst of your liberated brethren.”
Dutifully, the hound turns its strange, almost insectoid head one way, then the other, scenting the air in an almost viper-like way. Truly, ‘hound’ is a relative term.
“Follow,” it barks, and sets off at a brisk trot.
“Sstick to the alleysss!” you hiss after it, following swiftly.
Roth sheathes his sword, pulls a drab and brownish cloak about him, and follows you both.
What do you wear?
>Something protective>Something inconspicuous>Some surplus, ill-fitting scrap armour from Roth’s forge[Continuing... After a few rolls]
