Party Action gone Bad

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It was a day like any other and our four adventurers had met in a nondescript tavern on the edge of a town of halflings. The town mayor had invited them to come because his population had been dwindling, getting less and less as more and more adventurers set out to discover the secrets contained within a nearby cavern. Who or what had started rumours of riches in the cavern was unclear and no one in the town could actually say who had found the first ruby. Whatever or whoever it was had led to the town becoming more than a simple fishing village on the bank of Black-water Lake.

The party contained one elven ranger, one dwarf paladin, one human rogue and one halfling sorcerer. A pretty decent cross section if I may say so myself. The four of us set off on our quest, and within the first half-hour walk on the road we were accosted by a huge, winged dragonfly, its head encased in some red, swirling mist. We took up our battle stations. Our attacks flew fast and furious, and totally un-coordinated, resulting in the ranger spearing the paladin with an arrow in his arm.

“Och! What’d you do tha’ for?” the Dwarf accosted the elf, completely forgetting that we were in a life and death battle.

“Behind you!” the elf shouted and readied another arrow.

“Dinnae change da subject!” the dwarf replied and advanced on the elf, provoking the dragonfly into an attack of opportunity which cleaved past his armour and scored a gash on the dwarf’s right shoulder.

The elf took his opportunity to fire at the dragonfly again, but a freak gust of wind took the arrow and buffeted it, forcing it to miss its target. “You have to help them!” the elf pleaded with the dwarf.

“Aye, I’ll help them, but not until I’m done with ye!” the dwarf replied and lifted the haft of his axe above his head. In one swift motion the elf’s head lay detached from his body and the dwarf grinned grimly, turning back just in time to see the dragonfly spear the human and the halfling through their chests, eliciting cries of agony as their lifeblood drained out of their bodes and soaked into the thirsty ground below them. Scratching his beard the beard hoisted his weapon unto his back and walked back to the village.

If only races could get along.

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