The Harbinger of Ferocity

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

Brannor is now also a Large creature, @Hekazu, so when the map is next updated that might prove relevant. It might not, I haven't the faintest what you have in store for us, but I assume that might matter. All the same, that board looks much, much more agreeable than it had prior. Contending with the way things are now should help us some.

Post a random fact about yourself.

I have never played a canon character in the entirety of my roleplaying experience, not as a player and not as the storyteller.

Salutations

Welcome to the Roleplayer Guild, @LiliumVolcott. As I am certain you have noticed, there is a wide variety of writing options for you to choose from and generally the community does not care too much about how much one writes for their topics, although this of course varies by the owner of the thread and topic. That in mind, no need to worry and I am confident you will find the majority easygoing enough and active enough to be sufficiently entertaining. My advice would be to join the Discord if you have not done so already and pose any questions you have there or interact more directly with the community. Of course, you can always ask here in your own thread or seek out another to find what it is you are looking for. But all in all thank you for joining us.

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

Brannor makes his opportunity attack against the favored of the two cultists, the roll at a 9. Despite having advantage from Parum's Faerie Fire, the bonus roll is exactly another 9. While not a successful effort, the enemy is still forced to take flight from the battle, just as hoped.

Printed guns, melded metal - An experimental GM-less Cyberpunk RP

My only suggestion in all this madness as people dawdle about and up to their own brands of shady business, is to mention those you are specifically interacting with or have a very, very high likelihood of noticing you. That way it adds some incentive and pressure upon them to respond, as well as notice at all; a single line in these many paragraphs could be easily displaced. I would rather not have something like that, character interaction, go without notice and ignored.

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

The events as we discussed should now be in motion, @Hekazu.

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

The brutal attack that would have felled any lesser man or beast was turned aside by tremendous power, something terrible in nature. The spatter of deep red hit the grass and the green-cloak staggered a bit, turned aside by the killing blow. Yet there was something horrific to a strike like that which did not kill a man, something inherently unsettling and unnatural to it as Brannor stood back to his full height, a glare of feral revenge in his eyes. Both parties initially expressed the shock, but it changed from there. One was thereafter a stare of total confusion, but the other? The other was one of broken restraint, as if the blade cut open something that was being held back, showering it in red but freeing it all the same.

For a few, long, painful moments the surge of emotion and holy fury grew, but it too caught fire like the expression, engulfed and inflamed. The touch of the young woman's magic, with its undercurrent of something more wild, evoked what was already transpiring and with a roar, the paladin warped into a murderous figure, bristling and snarling. Rearing back, the true Champion of Greenest then showed its face, its wounds mostly healed by the curative magic that enthralled it came with an accompanying sister magical ward. But more than anything the guttural cry sent a shock of terror through the untrained mounts, as something monstrous and predatory suddenly made itself noticeably manifest.

Brannor shook himself off, curling at jowls and hefting the sword, silver pendant clinking against the breast of bloodstained chainmail. If any of the enemies bolted on their mounts, willingly or unwilling, the beast within made manifest throughout was going to swing.

Effects

Brannor uses his Action to polymorph into his Hybrid Form using his Shapechanger ability. His action should force the untrained horses to flee in terror, requiring the riders to control their mounts or risk being thrown off or carried away by them as they attempt to escape. If the riders lose control of their mounts and are not thrown off, being forced to ride the fleeing horse, they will provoke opportunity attacks. Brannor will use his opportunity attack to strike the cultists if they provoke, prioritizing the one who struck him with the critical hit if multiple provoke; otherwise he will attack any other cultist rider who is taken away on their mount and provokes.

@Hekazu@Gordian Nought@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

Post a random fact about yourself.

There are many noises that easily irritate me, especially those that prove unexpected. Motorcycles happen to be the most notable, because the sound is so distinctly loud, unsettling, and often very sudden. As it is I am not fond of being surprised by anything no matter what it is. When alert and wary, such as being out and about? The last thing I want to be is blindsided by some obnoxiously loud sound, motorcycles being the most common.

Printed guns, melded metal - An experimental GM-less Cyberpunk RP

The recoil of the heavy pistol pushed back and again into the palm until the weapon racked dry with a distinctive snap. The venting gas from the chamber filling a bit of the immediate view, the hunter knew that retaliation was on the way. Granted not all of his shots had surely hit and even those that did were likely to do little but slow the mark down, now was not the time to assess just how effective the firing had been. A step back into cover again between the crusted bricks and more than ample graffiti, thumb depressing the magazine release and sending yet another piece of scrap plastic to the ground, a strange, momentary impulse called out to the back of mind that something was off. The noise, the stimulus of it, was behind the jacketed hunter, and before his hand could even slip for another magazine, the storm of falling projectiles clattered against his partial cover.

Showered with more than a sprinkling of brick dust and pulverized mortar, the man fell to a knee and laid against the wall, shaking himself off. Oversized handgun still resting vertically in palm, its shiny obsidian exterior powdered now with grey, the man peered around the corner. Not towards the gunfight, but the other gunfight. The new one that had just spontaneously made itself. In all honesty, that was expected. Some poor scrub defending their home against what was clearly another gang problem in the heart of a Combat Zone. Granted seeing anything would have been just about impossible regularly between the haze, the dust, the ambient glow, but some eyes were just inherently better than others, especially when it came to picking out shapes that didn't belong.

Pulling back in between the walls, having seen enough to know someone was there, holding something - something gun shaped, maybe not, close enough - in their direction, the answer was straightforward; shoot back. First things first came as the new magazine was slammed into place with enough force the slide snapped forward on its own. The second came with looking himself over, to note there were no added holes of course, but plenty of cosmetic damage that would be a real pain in the ass to get out thanks to the dust. So it came down now to whoever it was getting their rebuttal, deserved or not. And naturally so, the contracted recovery agent steadied his pulse again, moved finger to trigger, stood and depressed it back as many times as he could in the span of maybe a second.

Now, the shooting was assisted by the user and sight alike - the target crystal clear - but the rapid fire wasn't meant to do more than put their head down and if lucky, punch through the concrete near them and perhaps into them, but that was a gamble. After all, recoil still existed and without chromed up arms and a fancy retool of the entire nervous system, the shots were going to go where the barrel went, which was a rough approximation of aim. Even if it all missed maybe the retaliating armor penetrating rounds punching chip sized holes through walls around them would tell them to back off. Maybe it wouldn't, who cared. The psycho rolling with a machine gun and tweaked up on some new drugs was the real focus; after all, the guy was pelted by a few shots and had the goons from some gang not been rolling on him too, the hunter would have been outgunned and now outnumbered. So the only option now post shooting was to move and move he did.

The dash was maybe five feet across, to another alleyway, but it felt like an eternity of crossing open space. Perhaps it was just being on and in the moment, being ambushed tended to do that, but once he cleared into the cover there was a long breath. Then a lot more yelling down the alley, not him of course. Instead the gunfire dipped and the sounds of a few people moving, sprinting and splashing through the seedy, trashy corridors was making bad things worse. The positive was, to the keen ears that clearly it was multiple people, not just one running anywhere near him... the downside being that now more potential enemies were here; it wasn't like the boosters cared for the help. So that sent the man packing, wiping his brow with the cuff of his jacket, and now moving closer toward the other shooter from above.

For now he'd let the crazies slug it out and deal with whoever was trying to pick them off from behind. After all, being shot in the back tended to slow down the acquisition of payment, and having less enemies was better than more.

@Terminal

Printed guns, melded metal - An experimental GM-less Cyberpunk RP

Fortunately I had planned for already reloading the low capacity heavy pistol, so I assume this might be a reasonable time to fall into that at the same time as suddenly introducing another combatant, @Terminal. Regardless, you will have your answer in many senses soon enough.