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Jeff twidles his thumbs.
Astram: ... Yes?
Jeff: It's been a while since the session. No recap.
Astram: My apologies.
Jeff: ...
Astram: ...
Jeff: ... And?
Astram: And what? You never told me to.
Jeff facepalms at the idea of having to tell one of his own roleplay characters to effectively recap one of his own roleplay sessions.
Astram: If I must. Our rescue attempts were mostly a success. Many injured were still saved and managed to escape to a temple-inn of Avandra. The monk we rescued from the beast's dark tentacle referenced us to a green-cloaked man, a historian, who would most likely be able to help us figure out what we needed to know about the catastrophes striking the land, and the reason for the massacre of the priestesses of the temple where the ritual was cast.
Jeff: Sorry, can't remember his name. Dan will have to confirm. I really should write this stuff down...
Astram: Indeed. He read the story of the book we had. It was effectively one of the oldest in existance, telling of the history of the war between the gods and primordials, Io's death, and that one of his devoted followers felt such great sorrow at his death that she knelt, pushed her hand to the ground, and wept. In doing so she seemed to flatten a section of earth for building, and helped add to the waters around the area. This may not be absolutely accurate, but it is my memory of his tale.
Jeff: Again, the dragon's name is forgotten. My bad, folks.
Astram: Indeed. Again. The dragoness was worshipped for a while as something of a demigod. Many temples were made to her name, but in later times were converted as the pantheon simpled itself out. We found out by means of a... questionably drawn map the locations of each of these converted temples. To the best of our knowledge, all but one had been attacked by a disaster of some kind. With all due haste, we needed to find the last and defend it.
Jeff: During the downtime somewhere between the storytelling and the map-making, the three heroes--Dod, Astram, and Cenward--had been busy helping a Monk with his healing duties. Ardent's euphoria met Paladin's divine touch and his progress was sped exponentially. Just the same, despite Astram's helped patient dying of a collapsed lung, the one Dod saved offered his choice of three scrolls. Turns out by a stroke of sheer luck, he picked at random a scroll for the Phantom Steed ritual. We... kind of broke the rules a little by travelling 300 mph on said steeds to reach the temple in an hour. According to the roll I made, it should have been maybe 1/4 that speed. But oh well, what's done is done.
Astram: Wasting no time, we sought the temple to ask the cleregy for aid in readying the town for a disaster. Being a temple to Ioun, if I recall correctly, the three nuns were closer to cultists and quite without the power to do more than talk to the town guard. Their job was to take donations, guard their self-proclaimed artifact, and serve as makeshift priestesses. As a man entered to pray, we departed to speak to the town guard's captain ourselves. The conversation went as smoothly as could be. An escape route was planned, the signals of what to look out for were made... but a crash interrupted us. Naturally, it came from the temple, which had somewhat caved in. The three ladies were dead, and the praying man was unconscious. The artifact's chest was gone. Thinking the man a lucky survivor, I tried to help him up, only to notice he seemed too heavy for his size. This point confused both Dod and I, and either angered the man or gave away his cover. Blindsided by a sneaky blow, battle ensued.
Jeff: Not before we caught some word that the thieving assailant flew in the direction of an Avandra inn-temple where the villagers were supposed to evacuate to. We at least had a line to follow.
Astram: Thank you. As the battle continued, a stroke of luck came to us in that the creature seemed to find itself in a panic about being unable to complete its objective of pursuing the thief. To be dazed by my magic sent it into a rage, and to be bound to Dod's side, unable to flee, tore at its ability to think straight. Further into the fight, undeniable signs of a dragon in disguise came forth--wings unfurled, snout grew, dragon breath was used more than once, and a tail was responsible for us being knocked aside more than once. As blows were traded, two attempts were made for information from its panicked mind. A success was made, to which we learned that the dragon was indeed hired by a female of some sort to pursue the artifact that had been stolen. Whether it was beat to the punch by a greedy ally or enemy, whether either side's intentions are good or not, and if its mistress is the same light from before or no, we have no answers. Instead, we found a dragon unconscious at our feet, its mind too strained by the fight. With a swift blow to the neck, Cenward severed its life.
Jeff: To which we have Dan to thank.
Astram: Truly, for without the quick ending, we were very likely doomed to fail in the endeavor. But as it stood, our success soon spread through the town--many had accumulated at the doors to the temple to watch, some time in the middle of the fight. To have killed a dragon in their own temple was a heroic feat, no doubt. But our objective was still in no way clear. Nor was our next move.
Jeff: Say what you want, I'm pretty happy with three level 6 people killing a level 7 Solo monster. Even if with somewhat borked rules.
Astram: Indeed.
Jeff: ... I should have picked a race with more emotion.
__________________   Goten is dead!
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