[i]Only dunces dash into dragon’s dens.[/i]

Unless said hoarder was away on other matters of business or vacation. The reassurance that most of his troupe had tasted the ambiance past the entrance and breathed words, tipped the scales in favor of a greater reward over a meager risk. The foretold couple already hazarded the mentioned bubbling lochs and meres within the large cavity that jutted just beneath reality’s surface. Lairs assumed masters, and its breadth suggested a menacing immensity from the safe vantage of the hugging fog. Peril was taunting Bah’im, chancing danger and jeopardy before the flock his very eyes had kidnapped, as one by one, his fellow travelers were herded into that burping warren. 

[i]Curiosity maimed more and killed less.[/i] 

Such prying led to Faustian pacts to sate the thirst of the unknown, where old seasoned men are willing to shed an eye and drink from the poisoned well of Mímisbrunnr. Discretion rationed the sanity of the trickster’s psyche from the nagging inquisitiveness of novelty’s cupid, uncovering murderous intent which oft married to the loving embrace of a Fatima. Becoming a pillar of salt or even opening a box of Pandoran plagues cemented the legendary folly of these endeavors, warning others of the pitfalls. Yet, prompted by an Evanesstra and Band, the dragonborn and its Angela desired to unleash the Anselmos and Vatheks of this unnecessarily fretful world, with little resources to compensate the maze hosting curios which required further investigation.

Soon, his outstretched arm became riddled with a verdant and inky mass, with fangs and a rattle opposed as the reptilian coil writhed the extremity of the marching wood elf.

[color=fdc68a]“Stand back, everyone.”[/color] He mentioned mostly to the agricultural knights of childhood nightmares, as he waved his hissing familiar back and forth, approaching the entrance to the earthen fissure. [color=fdc68a]“This snake can possess your soul… Ack!”[/color]

With that, the serpent locked gazes with the bladesinger, issuing a stiff march into the cave. Once inside, Marcus’ former star-crossed lover would scout the effervescing premises through the blindsight of his slithering companion, Mammon.

But first, he wanted to send a boisterous message. 

So… 

The one-eyed bandit stared. At all of the farmers. And whispered.

[color=brown]“Go home, before it’s too late.”[/color]

[Hider Mechanics]
Bah’im will summon his [url= https://roll20.net/compendium/dnd5e/Find%20Familiar#content][i]Familiar[/i][/url] and wrapped around his arm. With Performance of 8 (Passive Performance of 14) and Deception of 22 (Expertise), he will act as If he is being possessed, attempting to simultaneously surprise them from the fog.

He will end by whispering aloud via [url=http://engl393-dnd5th.wikia.com/wiki/Minor_Illusion][i]Minor Illusion[/i][/url] in a demonic voice, originating between all of them, the last statement.

Afterwards, he plans to send his snake ahead, 100 feet, before peering through its senses.
[/Hider]