- Red Morning-small.jpg (44.73 KiB) Viewed 2949 times
The attack was sudden and unexpected. The bells rang, beating a brazen clamor of alarm across the city only moments before the wooden buildings of the inner keep exploded in bloody red flame. The pair of scarlet dragons, long and lithe as they soared through the air, breathed gouts of flame down the length of Worldtree Plaza, the Avenue of the All-Father. The watchtowers were already burning like torches, signaling to all in the city that the battle was already lost, no hope would come. Armed and armored squadrons of reptilians and human fanatics bearing the sigil of a red flame appeared in the streets without warning, coming from inside the city. The walls are useless. Slaughter and screams seem indiscriminate and everywhere.
You had only a moment. You grabbed that which you could, which most precious to you, and have only moments to try and escape through the bloody streets before you will surely be overwhelmed and the next victims of the attack or burned alive in your homes...
Introduce each of your characters and place them in the city. Describe what part of their morning was interrupted by the sudden attack. How they reacted in those first moments. What their first thought of a plan of action is.
Make a separate section in your post narrating for each character, playing each one distinctly. Start the section with their character name and occupation in bold and underline. Use bold to highlight when you reference other PCs or NPCs to make it easier for other players to reference.
Sigurd, the Locksmith
Sigurd was up with the first light of dawn, as usual. He filled his washbasin and splashed water over his bald head, letting the rivulets run down through his beard and letting out a gasp at the cold, trying to make himself alert. He was always busiest in the morning, beginning his day at the Inner Keep with news of whatever thefts happened overnight. He shook Ylves awaken gently. "Sun is up. Time to get up." Her tow-headed mop pops out from under the quilt. He smiled gently. Ever since the death of her mother, it was just the two of them. He didn't like that she spent every day with him and watchmen, wished she could learn to cook or sew. But it was just them. Ylves pulled on a tunic and leggings, raking tiny fingers through her short-cropped hair.
He approached the massive gates of the inner bailey, the keep within. The sun always cast long shadows down the central plaza at this hour. Then the keep exploded with flame before him, the roaring of flame and wind as the dragon swooped low, its breath a firestorm on the plaza stones. Sigurd fought a wave of nausea and terror, grabbing Ylves and diving to the side behind a fruit stand as the nearest cover. He put a hand over her mouth as a dozen red-scaled kobolds ran past him on the street. Already at the city center. His stomach lurched. They wore the red-flame sigil of that cultist, the one he gave a key to so they wouldn't hurt Ylves when he couldn't pay back his debt.
They can get anywhere... it is already lost and my own fault. I must get her to safety. Out of the city. Our best hope is through the sally port at the Waterfall gate, his first thought.
