Session #19: Ambush at Green Creek Shrine

Session #19: Ambush at Green Creek Shrine

22 Memun 530

Rested and recovered, the Deputies left their breakfast in the deserted Grand Hotel and strolled across the empty town toward the Temple of Urdon. Approaching the tall windmill looming over the main street they were still hashing out their plans when the ambush sprung.

From behind the upper story of the windmill, a great winged shape unfolded: a sinuous, four‑legged reptile with crimson scales, swept-back horns, and a stout spinal frill cresting an enormous head. Its wide jaws bristled with cruel fangs, and a dark, smoke‑stained snout exhaled a constant curl of black smoke. The Deputies had no doubt: this was a red dragon.

The dragon swept down from the top of the windmill, slammed into the dust of the road ahead, and in a voice like a furnace door clanging shut declared, “Give me the halfling cleric, and I will let the rest of you live.” Urxes tried to draw it out, demanding, “Why do you want the cleric?” The rest of the posse had no interest in parlay.

Twig was first to act, rushing forward and lacing the dragon’s mind with Dissonant Whispers. The spell rattled the beast, driving it to beat its wings and retreat to the top of the windmill. Cordoch and Fourth‑Knife sprinted up the street, trying to close the distance but unable to reach it before it withdrew. Suffering Succotash broke off the road to the north, slipping behind a small house for cover, while Kruk angled south, beginning a wide loop to come at the dragon from the flank or rear. Alaric seized Zefyola’s arm and hauled her toward better shelter behind a low ridge crowned by a larger house. Urxes advanced to stand shoulder‑to‑shoulder with Fourth‑Knife.

The dragon plunged down again, slamming into the street in front of Cordoch and tearing into him with its claws. Twig edged closer to reach Cordoch with Healing Word. Alaric hurled a Chromatic Orb followed by a Sorcerous Burst, burning through some of his arcane reserves. Snarling something in Draconic and slashing a talon through the air, the dragon conjured a towering Wall of Fire behind the Deputies, cutting Alaric and Zefyola off from the rest of the posse. From cover, Suffering Succotash leaned out long enough to loose a Ray of Frost before ducking back. Kruk closed in to unleash his elemental strikes but failed to land a blow. Fourth‑Knife fired his blunderbuss to no effect. Cordoch, bleeding but unbowed, rose and drove his longsword into the dragon twice, one stroke striking deep.

Now hemmed in by multiple foes, the dragon exhaled a roaring cone of fire. Twig twisted clear of the worst of it, but Urxes, Fourth‑Knife, and Cordoch took the full brunt of the flames. Cordoch fell unconscious, and Fourth‑Knife only stayed on his feet by sheer grit, burning his Relentless Endurance to remain standing.

On the far side of the Wall of Fire, new threats emerged. Four desiccated corpse‑warriors stepped from a doorway and raised their bows toward Alaric and Zefyola. A volley cut Zefyola down, leaving her crumpled in the dust. The others, blinded by the shimmering wall of flame, were unaware of this new danger. Twig slipped in to cast Cure Wounds on Cordoch and bolstered him with Bardic Inspiration. Alaric answered the archers with Healing Word to pull Zefyola back from the brink, his wild magic tearing loose and manifesting a strange creature beside him. Spending still more power, he hurled a Fireball into the knot of corpse‑warriors, injuring them badly and blasting his own wild‑spawned creature into dust. Suffering Succotash sent another Ray of Frost at the dragon but missed. Zefyola, back on her feet, raised her holy symbol and called on Urdon; divine power surged outward, driving two of the four corpse‑warriors back. Kruk cracked the air with an elemental lash of cold that finally struck true on the dragon. Fourth‑Knife shed his humanoid form, becoming a massive giant elk, and crashed his antlers into the wyrm. Cordoch, newly healed, rose and swung again, but his blade failed to connect.

The two remaining corpse‑warriors stayed in the fight, continuing to draw a bead on Alaric. As arrows flew, Alaric snapped up a Shield spell, his wild magic surging again to grant him resistance against further harm. Twig turned his magic inward, casting Cure Wounds on himself. Alaric reached out with Shocking Grasp to fry one of the corpse‑warriors at close range. Suffering Succotash’s next Ray of Frost finally struck the dragon, ice crackling along its scales.

With the tide turning, the dragon kicked off from the street and soared back up, tucking itself behind the top of the windmill for cover. Cordoch circled the base of the structure until he had a clear line and then called down Moonbeam upon the creature. Under that pale, searing light, the dragon’s form twisted and shrank, revealing a man—or something man‑shaped—silhouetted in the beam. A heartbeat later, the figure dove from the windmill and, mid‑fall, warped into an eagle, streaking away into the sky. Suffering Succotash snapped off another Ray of Frost at the fleeing bird, but it vanished without any sign of effect.

With the dragon’s magic gone, the Wall of Fire guttered out. The Deputies regrouped and made quick work of the remaining corpse‑warriors, who suddenly seemed sluggish and weakened without their master’s presence.

Searching the nearby houses, the posse found that the building from which the corpse‑warriors had emerged held a small stool set by a window overlooking the road and a mostly empty sack of salted peanuts, the bag stamped with a merchant’s mark from a shop in Sable Falls. Tracks from one of the corpse‑warriors—quickly dubbed “wights,” thanks to the Roll20 stat block header the players could see—led back through the abandoned streets toward the nearby mines.

With the sun still low but the adrenaline spent, it was only just shy of 9 a.m. when the Deputies decided they had earned a respite. They returned to the Grand Hotel to lick their wounds, plan their next move, and prepare to ride out for the mines come morning.

Here ends Session #19.