<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Arthur Stahl (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2316582)</span><br/><div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/rnUbdgq.jpg)</div><strong>Class/Level : </strong>Level 1 Blacksmith<br/><br/><strong>HP : </strong>13<br/><strong>AC : </strong>18<br/><br/><strong>Positive Conditions : </strong>None<br/><strong>Negative Conditions : </strong>None<br/><hr/><span class="bbc_u">Mechanical Actions + Dicerolls</span><br/>N/A<br/><hr/><br/>The stories of a past crusade were almost comforting, with the blacksmith relaxing just a little as he listened on to the story. However, before long – the stage was set and the crowd silent as Arthur sought to get closer to his new companions once more as he hummed out, feeling the weight of the situation as Hulrun began to speak and break the silence. The young man listened avidly as ever, but it did not take a particularly wise man to notice the way he began to trail his words, and when he took a step back that was when Arthur turned around just in time to see the fortress to the west. Mortar and foundation quickly began to crack and burst asunder before the fire caused the building to collapse in full with various explosions. “Wha-” There was no time to register it, but the Wardstone shattered with dreadful force, causing stone to crash down against the audience.<br/><br/>‘<em>Shit!</em>’ Arthur was not one to curse often, but mentally everything became a blur as Hulrun was quickly in combat with Areelu. The inquisitor put up a fight… Or at least Arthur felt he did before the man was kicked down and stabbed, his figure then lifeless. Arthur was a brave man – or he thought himself brave, but seeing two heroes battered down and broken by the half succubus was not an easy thing to register, and even as the gate opened, Arthur scrambled about, seeking to at least try and help anyone who was straggling in their attempt to escape. This was a battle they could not win – they were not heroes. They were conscripts at best, dragged into insurmountable odds. Even then he was focused on running himself, but as he turned around it almost felt as if one had moved from the frying pan and into the fire. A silver dragon? But… It couldn’t have been an ordinary silver dragon, no. But there was no time to watch the spectacle. Instead the blacksmith tried to move with his group the best he could, as right now survival was all they could do in the midst of two legends fighting it out, and supposed paladins turning on their own.<br/><br/>But as they tried to run, the earth gave way beneath them, and they were soon plummeting. Was this really the end? Maybe not – the sensation of his fall slowing did little to assuage his panic, but he held on tenuously to what training he had, seeking to be brave in the face of almost certain death as they continued to fall deeper into the chasm.