It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Scanlan Shorthalt, a gnome bard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously,  Some of them splintered off to try and acquire the goods that were taken from his store, however they apparently had already been stolen from the location they were being stored in, or been delivered already, they're uncertain as to what became of them. But they get the sense that it was probably best that they chose Gilmore over the gold, at first glance.
DM: Pushing forward, deeper into the city, you make your way through the Temple District, and start pushing through Abdar's Promenade once again, retracing your steps from the day before, dodging through open areas as fast as possible to stay within the shadows. All of you go darting into one of the alleyways. As you turn behind you, you can see your tiny-legged gnomish bard friend, keeping up as best as he can before his foot hitting a divot on the ground and (slam) falling face first on the ground, making just enough noise--
Player: Sorry. Sorry.
DM: You hear a little screech in the distance. (screech) And coming up on the rooftop, you can see, perched up there, appears to be one wyvern that is looking over down at the currently toppled gnome, and on top of the wyvern, you see something riding it. Something that is holding reins on the edge, something humanoid is glancing over, just a little enough of a shadow, to see.
Player: He sees me? I see him?
DM: He looks down at you, yeah.
Player: Okay. I will cast Hold Person on him.
DM: Okay.
