Scorch Scale damages the two suits of armor attacking him, but they did indeed seem partially resistant to his flame, and so for now, they kept on coming.

Meanwhile, snarling, the man turns to Goodwill--

--and then he notices Tempest. "--SUMMER SKIES!" he shouts. "Drocan and the Stormforce's host? I say thee nay! Nay, verily!" He grabs at the small bottle of sand-- "Damn you for making me use this up--"

He pulls out the cork stopping the bottle, and flings the contents into the air between himself and the heroes.

12:30, Today: A Man rolled 7 using 2d6+2 ((2,3)).

The sand affects each of you equally...

...With one exception.

(Everyone roll +Confident, please...)
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:07, Sun 07 Apr 2019.

Summer skies?  Who in the Heck was this guy, and what did he know about the Stormforce?

"What in the world?!"  She exclaimed as sandy contents were released upon them.

---

Today: Tempest rolled 8 using 2d6+2 with rolls of 4,2.  Unspecified +Confident Check.

Confidant
18:38, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 4 using 2d6 ((1,3)).

So, would this be worth that rage move or...?

Goodwill rolled 11 using 2d6+1 ((6,4)).

Goodwill was nothing but confident, whatever the guy was doing.

- rolled 4 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 1,2.  +Confidence as requested.

Scraps runs toward the light... and then...

It was true! There was his master! And Lizard Man, too!

And... Storm Girl, too... she was looking at the ceiling, though, like something was wrong with her... Maybe she was asleep standing up? (That was real talent... whenever Scraps tried that, he just fell over.) Oh well, the important thing was, Scraps was back!

There was a big wall of black fire between Scraps' friends and the man who'd had the stuff in his pockets... but another wall of normal-colored fire over to the right... Lizard Man must have put it there to keep Mr. Pockets from getting away... just like the wall of black fire must be there to keep Scraps' master and his friends away...

(Scorch Scale, you're up...)

Scorch Scale felt that left to chances this man would get away. He already got three of their group down (a while if not for the count). He had to plan something ... "Right, here's my idea. When I say now, I'm burning his wall away. Someone block his exit, I'm sure Scraps can can get the amulet when the fire dies and someone else can smack this collector around."

Inspire the Team
20:44, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 7 using 2d6 ((2,5)).
--Everyone else take +1 forward

OOC: please, which item/s does Scraps have in his mouth right now?  The wooden items, or the ball?

(None, Scraps... the man got them all back while you were asleep...)

Sigh.  Of course he did.  :-(

Scraps went bounding over to Goodwill to show him the ball Scraps had rescued.
With a proud way of his tail, Scraps dropped it at Gil’s feet ... and patiently waited for him to throw it.

[Sorry, Scraps, but the boss said the items were all picked up.]

Goodwill looked down at what Scraps had brought him. He'd wondered if one of the magical items was now in his possession, but instead saw that Scraps had found some child's lost ball. It was the same pink as a pencil eraser, and said Spalding on one side.

With a shrug, he picked it up anyway. It was the solid kind, not the hollow type. These hit a guy, they hurt. They hit a guy after being shot out of the cannon that was Gil's pitching arm, they could knock a guy unconscious.

Gil had been an all-state pitcher even before he developed powers. Grinning, he wound up and pitched what he hoped would be the best bean ball of his life.

Goodwill rolled 5 using 2d6+2 ((1,2)).

...and shot it right past his left ear.

"Today is just not my day!"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:09, Tue 07 May 2019.

The rubber ball (where did it come from?) missed the man, bounced off the far wall, and came back and smacked Goodwill right above the bridge of his nose. (Goodwill takes 1 new stress, and now has a total of 2.)

The man tried again to use his black fire breath to put out Scorch Scale's firewall... but he failed. If anything, he reinforced it...

Cursing in some ancient dialect (was that Middle English?) could be heard from beyond the black firewall...

(Okay, y'all's turn. Sorry for the delay.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:29, Wed 15 May 2019.

"Are you freaking kidding me?!"

Not his day indeed.

Maybe Scorch Scale didn't have the directing chomps, maybe he didn't look serious, but why did people ignore what a Dragon had to say? No wonder their actions were failing.

"All right, fine.
Allow me to bust down his fortifications and you all siege him, can everyone agree to that?"
Before anyone can decide to disagree with him, Scorch Scale bellowed a roar of flame towards the black wall separating them from the thief.

What kind of roll would you like for this GM?

(Usually the game considers using your power to blast stuff as Forceful, and I'm not seeing enough of a reason to deviate from that in this situation.)

Oh sure, but I was meaning what move under Forceful to use.
But just Forceful works for me

Forecful
18:46, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 13 using 2d6+2 ((6,5)).

Scorch Scale's attempt works like a charm.

The man's firewall is extinguished, and that of Scorch Scale, which is still cutting off the man's nearest escape route, seems like it will for for at least several seconds more...

Scraps barked with delight when Gil threw the ball for him.
Scraps loved playing fetch ... and so he went tearing off after the ball.

But the ball wasn't going to be so easily caught; no no.
It bounced off the wall, just as Scraps skidded to a halt before the fiery firewall ... something told Scraps that fiery fire was bad to run into.

But the ball came back to play, flying past overhead,  back towards Gil.
Then, Gil cleverly whacked it away with his face.

Scraps couldn't believe how much fun he was having.

See Scraps run.
See Scraps chase the ball.

The fire wall was down. This was Gil's chance to finally be of use in this fiasco.

Striding right up to the strange man, he simply punched him.

Forceful, Clobbering time!
Goodwill rolled 12 using 2d6+2 ((5,5)).
--You hit hard (+1 Stun)
--You avoid most of their retaliation (-1 Stun)


"Now that's more like it."

WHAM. Ow. That looked like it hurt.

It looked like it could've almost killed him, actually.

"Aegrim... again..." moaned the man, now lying on the floor...

And then... he got better.

But not a lot.

Just more like he didn't absolutely need surgery in the next 5 minutes.

"...By the cauldron... what hit me...?" mutters the dragon within the man...

And then everyone in his body passes out.

You've caught... Well, Aegrim, the black dragon of Wyre, you're pretty sure of that much... and... some guy...!


--There is a mighty rush of wind, the sound of breaking glass...

Tempest is gone. Whatever weird stuff was going on with her, seems like either her or her powers (or both) decided it was time to go...

Feels like you'll never see her again... (or will you...?)

Scraps bounded over and dropped the soggy, dirty, germ-ridden ball at Goodwill’s feet.
Completely oblivious to everything else going on around him, Scape looked up at Gil and ‘Bark’ed excitedly ...  his little spotty tail stirring the air above his backside.

"We'd better call this guy an ambulance," Goodwill said, looking down. Apparently whatever dragon-mojo the guy had was all used up (for now?). One punch to the schnozz was all it took to lay him out flat. "I may have hit him too hard."

Scorch Scale shrugged. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. With how many trinkets he was throwing down, it would not be a surprise if he had an armor charm. Wizards love that defense." Scorch Scale said with a kick to the strange knife.

Thank goodness they succeeded with stopping him. Who knows what he could have done with that latest trinkets in his collection.

Will ducked down and picked up Scraps.

"And who's the best super-puppy ever?"

Scraps wriggled playfully in Gil’s arm, and tried to lick his human’s face.

“Bark Bark”