LiLNasY

The Rise from the Ashes

While the retainers packed, Meli stayed close to me. My mind was racing, putting pieces together.

The emblem. I'd caught a glimpse of it while we were sneaking away. A coat of arms I recognized from Adam's stories.

"The Windpikes," I said quietly, looking at Elena, Garrick, and Isolde. "You probably know about them already. The elite enforcers from the old days. Secret missions, assassin work, things the knights wouldn't touch."

My jaw clenched. "Looks like they've fallen far. Now they're just bandits doing the Crown's dirty work."

I took a breath and kept going. "Pack small. You're going to Little Happens. It's three days from here, at the edge of the Forests of Vestarel. Chief Garou runs it, and he's refused to join with Ophidia or the Magocracy. You'll be safe there."

I went to my room and grabbed my small pouch of gold. Twenty-five pieces, saved over years. I counted out fifteen and came back, pressing them into Elena's hands.

"Take the deed to the orchard with you," I said. "If you don't hear from Meli and me in a month, sell it. Start over somewhere else. Don't wait for us."

Then I turned to Meli. My voice got harder, more urgent.

"We can't wait to plan this out. The Windpikes are dangerous, and if we let them leave with the Gathering, we might never get them back. We need to free them now."

I looked at all of them, waiting to see what they would say.

Where Wishes Fall (D&D 5e)

The man stops at the door, his hand on the frame. For a long moment, he just stares at Kalila, at her glowing eyes, at the raised hand still ready to unleash more of that terrible magic.

Then he spits blood on the floor.

"Fuck you," he says, his voice rough with pain.

But he doesn't move to attack. He stays there, thinking, weighing her words. The silence stretches. His eyes narrow behind the mask, calculating something.

Finally, he looks at Gerta.

"Thirty gold. Next month. Be ready."

Then he's gone, the door slamming behind him.

The moment he leaves, it's like everyone in the room exhales at once. The tension breaks. Mick lowers his knife, his hands shaking slightly. Gerta sways on her feet, catching herself on the table.

The glow fades from Kalila's eyes. The wind dies. The magic retreats back into her veins, and suddenly she's just herself again, standing there with a kitchen knife in her hand.

Gerta looks at her. Really looks at her. There's something in her expression now that wasn't there before. Wariness. Distrust. Her eyes flick to the bottle Kalila's still holding, to the knife, back to her face.

Before Gerta can say anything, Garrek laughs. It's a slightly hysterical sound, but genuine.

"What the fuck!" He's grinning despite the blood on his neck. "That was AMAZING! Did you see what she did? That magic, that... that BLAST thing!"

Gerta immediately shifts her attention to him, her expression changing from wary to concerned.

"Let me see your neck," she says firmly, moving to him. She tilts his head to examine the claw marks, her fingers gentle despite her rough tone. "Damn fool boy, talking back like that. Could've gotten yourself killed."

"But I didn't!" Garrek protests. "Because Kalila..."

"Hush. Hold still."

The room settles into an uneasy quiet, broken only by Gerta fussing over Garrek's wound.

---

What does Kalila do?

Drowned Gods (D&D 5e)

As the high priest bows his head in acknowledgment, you notice something strange. One of the crab's claws. The left one. It seems... different. Slightly larger than before. The change is subtle. So subtle you almost think you imagined it. But no. The claw has definitely grown. Just a little. Just enough to notice.

You file that information away for later consideration.

Blibdoolpoolp rises to his feet. Water streams from his robes. The wounds on his chest and head still seep that dark fluid. But he seems not to notice. Or perhaps not to care.

"It shall be done, Great SHOOGBIMBHALD," he says solemnly. "We will seal this tunnel. We will dig in a different direction. The crab of wisdom shall guide us to safer treasures."

He pauses. His bulging eyes search your face.

"Is there anything else you require of your servants, Great One? Any other wisdom you wish to impart? Any other... tests?"

The last word comes out carefully. Almost fearfully.

---

After yoo respond, there is a commotion from the tunnel behind you. The wet slap of webbed feet. Running. Fast. Stumbling. The sound of someone tripping. Getting up. Running again.

A kuo-toa bursts into the cavern entrance. Younger than Blibdoolpoolp. His scales are bright green and slick with even more water than usual. He is breathing so hard his whole body heaves. His gill slits flutter like they might fly off his face. One of his eyes seems to be looking in a completely different direction than the other.

"High Priest! Great SHOOG... SHOOG..." He pauses. Gasps for air. Tries again. "SHOOGBIM... SHOOGBIMBLAD... no wait... SHOOGBING..."

He stops. Takes several loud gulping breaths.

"GREAT BIG SHOOG!" he finally shouts in triumph.

Blibdoolpoolp's eye twitches.

"We have... we have..." The messenger bends over. Hands on his knees. More gasping. "We have captured... a thing! A person thing! An intruder thing! In the south! The south digging place! Where we dig! In the south!"

He waves his webbed hands frantically as he speaks. Water flies everywhere.

"We found them doing... doing intruder activities! Very suspicious activities! Like... like being there! When they should not be there! And... and having a face we did not recognize!"

He straightens up suddenly. Points dramatically back toward the tunnel.

"They are in the sitting room! The big sitting room! With the big sitting chair! Your sitting chair! We put them there! Well, not in the chair, that is YOUR chair, Great Big Shoog, we put them near the chair! Waiting! For judgment! Your judgment! The judgment of..."

He pauses again. Squints in concentration.

"...SHOOGBIMBHALD!"

He looks incredibly pleased with himself for getting it right this time.

"Please come! Please come judge the intruder! They are very... very intruded!"

Drowned Gods (D&D 5e)

Hey, I'll say that there are 5 Whip Kuo-toas, including the high priest, but the high priest also has one level 2 spell slot and knows Lesser Restoration. And 2 Monitors.

Where Wishes Fall (D&D 5e)

Please roll an intimidation check!

The Rise from the Ashes

No, no need to apologize, just trying to evaluate options

The Rise from the Ashes

Hey, can I try to recall a more normal settlement that isn't associated with the Ophidian empire?

Where Wishes Fall (D&D 5e)

The light in Kalila's eyes spreads, covering everything until no white, no iris, no pupil remains. Just pure glowing magic. Her expression becomes stoic, cold, empty of emotion as the power coursing through her takes control.

The man's words echo in her mind. *She'd be way more useful to us.* For a moment, doubt tries to creep in. Should she have stayed quiet? Should she have hidden?

But the magic doesn't let her spiral. It holds her steady.

The man advances toward her, blood seeping through his armor. In the past, Kalila would have panicked, tried to run, sought safety. But now she stands perfectly still, eerily calm.

Her voice carries that otherworldly echo, almost drowning out her own words.

"So be it. You have made your choice. You shall not rob anyone of anything ever again!"

Her hand moves with unnatural expertise, picking up a kitchen knife from the table. She's never trained with a blade, never fought in close combat. But her hand knows exactly where to go.

She drives the knife straight into the festering wound where her magic struck before.

The man screams.

Kalila twists the blade like turning a key in a lock. Thunder explodes inside his body with a sharp crack. The hex continues its work, the wound blackening and rotting before everyone's eyes.

He staggers back, gasping, clutching at the knife still embedded in his chest.

"You... you bitch..."

He rips the blade out and throws it to the floor. Blood pours from the wound. He's breathing hard, struggling to stay upright.

Then he moves, disengaging carefully, backing toward the door. His eyes never leave Kalila.

"You'll regret this," he snarls. "My brother and I... we'll be back. And when we come, we'll burn this whole place to the ground!"

"DON'T YOU EVER COME BACK HERE!" Gerta screams, her pan still raised. "You hear me?! NEVER!"

But she doesn't follow. Neither does Garrek or Mick. They stand their ground, tense, ready, but letting him go.

The man reaches the door, still backing away, still watching Kalila with those cold eyes.

The tension in the room is suffocating. Everyone is frozen, waiting.

Initiative Tracker

**Round 2 - Kalila's Decision**

1. Mick (18) - 18 - Standing ready, not pursuing
2. **Kalila (16) - YOUR DECISION: Follow? Attack? Let him go?**
3. Mysterious Man (15) - 15 - Disengaged, retreating to door
4. Gerta (14) - 14 - Not pursuing
5. Garrek (10) - 10 - Not pursuing

**Current Status:**
- Mysterious Man: 22 damage taken total, Hexed, retreating
- Kalila: Unharmed, magic fully manifested
- Others: Tense but not pursuing

OOC

**Round 2 Attack Rolls:**
- Mick vs Mysterious Man (with advantage): 13 (HIT) - 3 damage
- Kalila vs Mysterious Man (with advantage): 23 and 19 (HIT) - 8 damage total (3 piercing + 3 necrotic + 2 thunder)

**Total Damage Dealt:** 22 (11 + 3 + 8)

---

Does Kalila follow him? Attack him as he retreats? Or let him go?

Where Wishes Fall (D&D 5e)

There is nothing floating above him. He has a couple daggers attached to his suit. You have a couple of kitchen knives all looking sharp at the table (1d4 + strength or dex, like a regular dagger). Since he is surrounded by your allies a weapon melee attack against him would be made in advantage.

The Rise from the Ashes

Happy Thanksgiving!