<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/qvQdg7X.jpeg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><strong>Falgrim Runeforged (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2538176)</strong></span><br/>Dwarven Artificer(Armorer) lvl 3<br/><strong>Hp:</strong>26/26<strong>AC:</strong>19<strong>Passive perception:</strong>13<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spells</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>1st:</strong> 0/3 used</div></div><strong>Actions:</strong>Initiative roll: 1d20a1 Result: 3 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=158154), Thorn whip rolls: 1d20a5 Result: 15 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=158155), Thorn whip damage if it hits rolls: 1d6 Result: 2 (and pulled 10 feet towards Falgrim) (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=158156)<br/><hr/><br/>It was evident by the way everyone talked about him and Drip that in most cases if the dwarf had opened his mouth he would have caused more problems then he could solve with just words. Taking a back seat in most interaction in this past day or so he was quiet and he watched, letting his mind do most of the work. While he helped prepare food for the betrothal celebration he thought it best he was not apart of it for now. Instead as he finished his task in the kitchen he stole into the night with armor on and moved towards the stables, sticking to the shadows best he could in following Mae, capitalizing on his ability to see in the absence of light.<br/><br/>Arriving as the cloaked figure arrived on scene. He watched, he waited, and as Mae wove her magic he moved forward. A coil of wire dropped from his armor as he whipped his arm forward, sending the barbed lash at the Bandit.