D&D - I made two people cry.

This is an amalgamations of various chat logs used to create an experience for my players. So, Hajar the SwordSage and Mor'ahg the Dragon Shaman, are rushed into a clunky combat not knowing who the other was. Their introduction is rolling for initiative. They yell at one another and kinda figure they are on the same side. Mor'ahg travels with his father, trading glassware. Shadow bandits assaulted their cart, using Hajar as bait, and every bandit they struck down, their lieutenant resurrected, filled with black smoke. Mor'ahg's father got in a contested breath grapple, screaming his dragons fire into the column of dark smoke that one of the smoking dead yelled back at him.

you break his leg and he goes down, but keeps screaming a column of liquid death towards your father.
your father is in a breath grapple
//d20+5
latoeb rolled  1d20; result:
13   +5
Sum: 18
//d20+4
 latoeb rolled  1d20; result:
20   +4
Sum: 24
Your father's chest heaves, maintining the flame. bur being pushed to the ground as well.
it being the baddies turn
You watch in horror as a blackened dagger pierece through your father's adams apple.
The troop leader stabbed him in the back
of the neck.

Resha, the Lieutenant slipped off into the night, leaving the party surrounded by fire, and the cold of night. Hor'ahg uses the heal skill to try and bandage up his father, and they start moving him to medical attention. While in the cart he tries to stand to walk beside the cart, to help its load, but....


As you begin to stand, your father grabs your hand
he cannot speak, but he squeezes your hand.
as you shift your weight to move he squeezes tighter.
His eyes are spread wide.
He is frightened.
You have never seen your father, the dragon shaman of his clan, afraid.
You think back on every time your father looked down into the innocence of your eyes, and said, "But that's a story for another time."
There is so much you don't know about your father.
Your father begins crying, as if an ocean of words were held back by the wound in his throat.
he tries to lift himself out of the bed
and begins coughing.
he motions you down.
He grabs Moh'rag (matt) around the neck with a cupped palm
he whispers in your ear.

In a private message I told Mor'ahg:
 "I am so proud of you."


his arm tenses.
his neck relaxes.
he lowers himself down into the cart.
His breath shallows.
Your father moans and gurgles
he appears to be crawling over the back of the cart
He is already over the edge.
GrogBeard the Pirate: he rolls onto his back and stares into the sky.
every single star is reflected in his eyes.
In that moment, terrible and beautiful, he stops.
you hear the wind across the sand,
Matt hears the slow grind of the continents against one another.
the bowels of hell know not the rage seething withing you.

[2:59:35 AM] GrogBeard the Pirate: and that children
[2:59:39 AM] GrogBeard the Pirate: is the end of story time.
[2:59:44 AM] GrogBeard the Pirate: for tonight.
[3:03:58 AM] Jen: (>T~T)>