Enter Crow. When we first saw him, he was being chased by two flying pig-faced demons. Pigs flying - it's officially happened! I thought it was an ambush, as did one of our number who was about to blast him with a Hex when he begged for our help. Gahl'akr was excited to engage with these demons and ran straight into a melee. I suppose if you are a demon and you see someone run toward you, there are probably two thoughts that go through your head: either they are insane or they know they might be able to wreck you. So, they did what they knew would be the best approach: they teleported to the other side of the group to engage with those that did not attack them. Gahl'akr made it back to the fray and with a little help from Goblin was able to put one of the demons down permanently. The other, seeing its companion downed, decided it was time to go and teleported to who knows where. Introductions were made all around and our new Aarakocra friend, who was on his way to the dragon’s lair, decided to come with us to aid us in our quest.
Seeing that our destination was at hand, we were excited to get on with our search. The downside was the distance to our goal. Looking down on the island that we needed to get to, the distance looked somewhere around 300 or more feet away. How many magic users does it take to solve this problem? All of us, it seemed. A decision was made: the magic spell of "Flight" would be cast on the stronger members of the group. Goblin, Gahl'akr and Volodemir would carry the lighter members down to the island destination.
The island destination below us was covered in frost, snow and ice. We knew the piece of the rod we were seeking was with an ancient frost dragon. Our hope was that we would catch this legendary beast asleep or at least unaware. Sadly, the gods did not smile down upon us. During our controlled decent down to the island the beast attacked. Goblin could only fly so fast with a spell cast on him and carrying Flint. The creature opened its maw and breathed frost on Goblin and Flint during their decent. Goblin nearly lost consciousness and pooped his pants. Seeing death’s door, he flew with as much speed as he could muster. The effort got him to within 30 feet of land but that was the most luck that he and Flint would receive. Plummeting to the ground with Flint, the effort was too much and left Goblin closer to death’s door than he’d ever been. One more attack from the dragon and Goblin would be dead! With the creature high in the sky, there was little the group could do to fight it off. Goblin has never been much of the healing kind of cleric. There is one bit of healing magic that is usually kept in reserve for these specific circumstances: it was do or die time for Goblin. Casting "Heal" on himself, Goblin was revitalized and weighed the options of fighting such a beast. There was little time to organize with the group before the creature could do another flyby. But, for reasons unknown to itself the beast decided to fly off and leave us to lick our wounds and take stock.
Confused and a little afraid, we decided to take a short rest and prepare ourselves for the task at hand. Time to finish our task or die trying.....
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