Gemscale recalls what he knows of White Dragons; their feral rage, lack of empathy and a voracious appetite. Beyond that, only their love of the cold and ice caves is known. As he wakes early with the others, and tries to carry all forty of the giant coins to the trader.
The huge doors beginning to close behind him, Halfdan stomps angrily towards the Svirfneblin. “Hey! Arseneblin, think it’s funny to steal from a cripple, do ya?!”
Gemscales looks, and sees that the man shouting is indeed missing his left arm. Holding out his right arm, the air shimmers slightly around this stranger before settling back to normal. Everyone closer to the trader, however, gives out a gasp or yelp of surprise.
Zadkiel, Knives, Hyln, HexFang, Aar and Lorrias are all by the wagon examining the wares, and have just completed a quick transaction to get some unperishable consumables for their journey. Beneath their feet they hear a cracking sound, and thin film of ice spreads from the grey-skinned trader. It seems he is emanating a cold aura, the ground beneath his wagon, and for a couple of dozen feet all around, freezing over with a layer of slippery ice. The party moves away from the Svirfneblin, catching themselves on the slippery surface and stopping only about ten feet from him.
HexFang looks over to the one-armed man angrily approaching. She then shouts a curse-laden retort, warning him not to anger the Dragons present. Halfdan, half-blinded by his rage, notices the Dragons now for the first time. Small as Dragons go, these beasts sport dulled, deep-coloured scales. One is dark green, the other a ruddy bronze or gold colour. They stand about the size of large work horses, muscular in build, and sporting folded wings of a huge potential span. It seems they were conducting trade a mere moment ago.
Gemscale notices the two cloaked Kobolds, and sees from one of their faces as he catches a glimpse that it is scarred horribly, and burned in places. Unfamiliar, it is unclear to where their allegiances lie.
The Svirneblin grimaces and shivers, feeling the chill of the ice sheet on the ground despite his elevation on the wagon. He reaches slowly around his back and pulls a hand crossbow. Pointing it at Halfdan with one hand, he leans down and pulls on a rope with the other while firing off a shot. The bolt flies wild and hits the doors weakly behind the Elfblood adventurer. The rope the man had pulled, however, was part of a mechanism to get his wagon ready to leave; the rear steps are now stowed and the stocks in front of the wheels have been pulled up to compartments above the wheel spokes. He dashes for the reigns of the wagon, seemingly ready to make his escape.
Roll for initative (1d20 + your dexterity modifier). What do you do?
Everyone apart from Halfdan must make a Dexterity saving throw (1d20 + your dexterity modifier (+ your proficiency bonus, if proficient)) if you want to move more than 10 feet due to the ice sheet on the floor.