The insults of the halfling had not had the desired outcome, the hardened minds of the fanatic discarding them to the side as they pulled their sword out of its sheath with fervour. Torus saw this, and decided to make an attempt at hindering the opposition's assault in another way. The druid did not rush in like many of his compatriots were expected to, but nor did he hang back as far as might be expected from someone of his old and frail appearance. He raised his hand, calling upon the powers of cold nature to stop the march of the destructive chromatic dragonkind. One cultist at a time. Flakes of frost began to coalesce on the sword arm of the opponent before them, the one whose chest was still decorated by an arrow.

The attack that targeted the less mental side of the adversary had greater success than its predecessor, the dragonclaw finding themselves unable to drive away the numbing sensation that began attacking their arm and making moving it increasingly difficult. Naturally the power of the magic would only prove to be enough for the initial touch rather than anything truly lasting, though by the looks of it something more permanent might well have taken place if not for the grit of the opponent. The sabre shook in unsteady grip and the posture slumped, but a ferocious expression on the visible lower half of the individual's face was of singular bloodlust.

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Torus advances 15 feet and casts the [i]Frostbite[/i] cantrip at the wounded Dragonclaw. The enemy fails their save at [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/12788]3[/url], thus taking [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/12789]4[/url] cold damage and gaining disadvantage on its first weapon attack to follow before the end of its next turn. They do not quite die, but they aren't all that well off either.

It is now Orchid's turn [@Lucius Cypher].
[/hider]