It was the day after the Greenest's heroes' one day respite from bringing the fight to the cult of the dragon. They no longer felt like there was anything to do within the town, and thus they sought to leave and do exactly what had been requested of them: To find out just what the Cult was planning to do next. If there were any plans to attack further settlements, those would be on the top of the priority list to report as far as they knew. If that was not something they could tell, at least there was the knowledge that they were not yet on the move. And if they had the opportunity, the hatchery remained a potential target for sabotage just as well.

The sun had risen above the horizon, but it had not been given much more time than that. Its still cold rays extended themselves over dew decorated plains, marking the path the heroes were to walk with its yet barely marked old tracks of the passing cult. Leosin had dragged himself out of bed and walked to the heroes with his own two feet, an encouraging smile on his visage. "Remember, I will depart for Elturel tomorrow. If I am gone by the time you arrive, speak with my friend Ontharr Frume instead. I will have him informed of your arrival if I must leave." With that, he saw the adventurers off, wishing them good luck under his breath only once they were already out of earshot. On to prepare for the next few days for him.

On the way towards the horseshoe that was the cultist's camp, Orchid insisted they stop by the scene of the fight from a few days earlier. At the scene some tracks and discarded weapons still remained, but being stored on the wet ground had not done the few scimitars any services. Three were there to be found, were the woodsman to wish taking them with him, though it was difficult to see immediate value in this act. They were, after all, but simple weapons. Easily mass produced with little resale value. But they were weapons, and they would still cut if a bit of whetstone was applied to the worst parts of them.

A closer approach towards the camp provided Torus and Parum with surprising news, however. The hustle and bustle they had seen be the norm of life in the camp was gone. None of the kobold's tents still stood, and only one man could be seen in the camp with two others leaving with two horses each. They took off to different directions, though all of them seemed to be equally trampled. Not many conclusions were left to be drawn from here. Leosin's assumption that the cult would have been slow to move anywhere must have been in the wrong.

To their luck, as the bard led forth the old man blind to his own senses, the eyes of Judgement would bring them a saving grace of knowledge: There were still people within the cave. From the mouth they could be seen, just out of direct light that the now substantially warmer sun sent downwards. Two dragonclaws stood guard, a barrier standing for those unauthorised. But nothing to stop the truly determined. The mouth of the camp was barren of any guard now, and between them and the cave stood now only the tents the humanoid members of the cult had used and the one man seemingly gathering something into a tent.

@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Ryonara@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

The minor expedition the half orc had led them on was not quite what the huntsman had in mind, as rather than checking to see how their enemy had fared following the escape, they went traversing the wood. Apparently this was to see if they had drawn any closer, although to their fortune and that of the town, there appeared to be no such case of it, at least where they searched. The pair were competent woodsmen, at least enough that they likely would have found their quarry given its obvious lack of attunement to the wild world, let alone something as overt as a forest. At most they found a trapper and snares, which were further signs no one that should not have been there dared into them.

The actual journey forth to follow the next day came with news unexpected, for as they drew closer no evidence of their camp was as abundant as it had been. For the old druid, this was truer than the rest, for high on the wing, the fair feathered bird was able to note the truth before those below had any idea of it. The camp, abandoned, had not even an ounce of the environment they experienced. Brannor knew as much by the lack of smoke on the wind, how the taste of them and their foul horde failed to taint it either, but he was not nearly as certain as the other two who devoted themselves to the assessing task.

Instead he remained idle beside them, scanning the wide world that was the prairie and how its blades of green waved in the wind. All he came to see was the riders on horseback breaking off from where they knew the camp to have been. It only made the man grit his jaw and peer harder with a beastly stare. He remained quiet, despite the surge of questions in him, tapping the necklace that adorned his neck with a steady, timing rhythm. He soon looked to the halfling woman, then the old magician, finally to the priestess. Several of them, the wilder sorts, seemed more restless and eager to strike, Orchid's wants little in question in this moment. So at last the drifter spoke, although it was far less pressing and more probing in nature.

"What is it you see, old man?" The rumble of his voice was calm and restrained but it was clearly laden with vigorous want to see this mission through.

They needed to destroy the eggs, the dragons, and the cult wherever possible, and the cave held some combination of those based upon what they had known and the apparent reactions of the spellcaster and his smaller cohort. It was only now Brannor's hand fell to his side, away from his necklace.

@Hekazu@Ryonara@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

Without any mounts, Parum had to hustle alongside everyone else to reach the camp. Fortunately without the looming threat of a hostage on the line, they were in no rush. Parum made sure to have Torus scout ahead utilizing his crow, and Parum made a mental note about obtaining a familiar for herself at some point as well; they were immensely useful. More so since Parum dreaded what they'd have to do to get inside of this camp; she imagined that the cultists would have sentries in the forest, horsemen ready to sally out at a moment's notice, and no doubt those damnable half-dragons on a roost just waiting for prey to come into sight. Which made Parum all the more surprised when it was in fact the complete opposite; the camp was almost abandoned. While Judgement was still able to spot a few humans guarding the cave, it was as if the whole horde had upped and left last night.

This both worried and pleased Parum. With far less people it would be much easier to sneak inside. But the fact so many were able to leave with almost little trouble... Cults, Parum could understand to be organized and move quickly since they're usually quite small, but a mixed bands of brigands, sell-swords, kobolds, and cultist moving with this much speed and organization? It just reminded Parum that they may be way in over their heads. But she wasn't going to give up now with this blessing available. Before the party moved any further she gathered them to a vantage point where they could see the camp and the cave entrance. She had a new idea. "Thank the gods, looks like most of the campers left. While I've no doubt there's more cultists inside, at least now we won't have to deal with a whole army of them. Our object is that entrance over there. Let's see if we can't get a bit closer to it from above. I can cast an illusion within the area that would look like the guards are still present for those who would observe, but those within shouldn't notice it. Within that moment we need to strike fast and furiously. We can drop down from the cliffs after I set my spell so that I can use feather fall to drop us down safely." Parum reaches into her pack and looks for the scroll case containing her maps. Among the objects was a ruler of sorts; it would be useful to measure the height of the cliff so Parum could better get an idea of how high they'd be and how quickly they'll need to act.

"One more thing; once we're inside don't drop your guard even for a moment. While we've dealt with cultists and their warriors for the most part, do not forget that kobolds make up a bulk of this horde too. The inside of a cave would be the perfect place for their strength to shine, meaning a lot of traps, tight corridors, and dark areas where even those of us who can see in the night won't have it easy. Underestimate no one."

Kyra's hunt yielded very little game, but she did spy a different sort of prey. Another hunter in these woods, but not someone from Greenest. While it wasn't unusual to have people from afar in these neck of the woods, after recent events she was paranoid that this man was a scout for the cultists. But watching him in silence, he seemed to merely be a hunter; Kyra didn't interfere with him and continued on her own hunt. She didn't intend to bag anything bigger than a rabbit or a fox, and as she hunted she used a technique he father taught her the night before. It was different from her usual hunting techniques, and frankly it was because it was ill suited for hunting. No, this stance was meant for battle against other humans, not stalking animals.

Quite simply it was holding a dagger in a reverse grip in one hand, and her bow in the other. It had to be a dagger; anything bigger and it would be too bulky. Kyra's hunting dagger was just the right size of deadly efficiency to compact size. It would enable her to still draw arrows from her quiver for range attacks, but if an enemy draws too close, she would have her dagger ready to stab them without having to waste time drawing her weapon. Kyra practiced it as she hunted, holing her father's longbow in her left with her dagger in the right. It was easier than she had thought; indeed since she could easily hold onto her dagger firmly with just her pinky and ring finger, that left her middle, index, and thumb to grab and notch arrows. Kyra fired off a few arrows into trees as a test, followed by a solid stab into another nearby tree with her dagger. Sure enough it was pitifully easy for her to regain a solid grip on her knife and use it shortly after releasing an arrow; she wondered how she didn't discover this technique herself.

Eventually Kyra would return to Greenest, along with everyone else, and set out towards the cultist camp. She restocked on arrows, sharpened her blades, and made sure to tell her father that she was leaving again. Once they parted ways Kyra focused her mind onto the quest. Reaching the camp was easy, but what was the real surprise was how empty it was. There were very few sentries out despite their bombastic escape last night, with most of the tents packed up aside from a few near the cave entrance. Parum had a plan to drop in on the entrance and take out the sentries quietly and quickly. Kyra had no complaints about this plan, aside that Parum would be using two spells very early on. "Don't waste your magic. One spell should be enough, but two is too much. Let's first get a closer look at how long the distance is, and then we can figure out how to best take out the guards without rousing any suspicion."

The brief conversation regarding the plan of action was ended with an analysis. If it was necessary to cast the other spell, they would. But the cliff was much too high to traverse down with rope if they did not want to risk splitting their forces. Not to mention the old druid who did not exactly look the part of one that climbed ropes deftly and reliably. The spell used to ensure a safe fall was the way to go, and with the length of the drop they might even allow themselves a moment of falling before casting it, making the assault ever faster. And as far as the life in the camp looked, nobody was paying any particular mind to the cliff they were on. It was all shaping up to be a terrifically good plan, if expensive in spells.

The adventurers lined up for a dash and a jump, and were soon soaring through the air. They had their landing points on both sides of the mouth of the cave, but not before it itself, allowing them to be ready to act immediately when they were to come to view. Catching the guard off guard was the biggest benefit of their approach, and they were not about to let it go to waste. There was barely a clink in their equipment as they touched down to the ground with the exception of the mightier clang from Brannor, but by then they were already at the ready to move.

The sight the first attackers saw before them was exactly as they had hoped. The guards began scrambling for their weapons, but it would still be a while before they would actually draw them and be ready to put up a true fight. They had the upper hand here. And they would take it.


@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Ryonara@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

The group went with Parum's plan to drop into the front entrance and striking hard and fast. Admittedly, it seemed like a good idea up until they actually had to jump. Then it suddenly seemed very stupid. But it was too late to back out of it now. Though it did make Kyra have second thoughts about wearing her usual dress instead of trousers. She girdled her clothing as best as she could as she took out her longbow and dagger, getting ready for the signal. Once everyone was ready they jumped. Kyra had to suppress the urge to shout when they did and fortunately Parum's spell went off without a hitch. Now they needed to act fast.

The guards saw the group but were too shocked to ready themselves. While Kyra hoped to catch them unaware, their surprise would give Kyra more than enough time to line up a shot and release her arrow. Her short time training with her father paid off well here; instead of aiming for the guard's head as she normally wound with prey, she aimed for the center of his body instead. This made sure the arrow would more likely hit, and it would as the arrow sunk deep into his chest. Kyra moved a few feet inside of the cave itself, just enough so that the shadow of the cave would hide herself from anyone looking from outside of the cave. "Focus on one at a time." She says clearly but quietly.

Nodding to Kyra, Parum felt that perhaps burning two spells before they even get inside of the cave was a bit much. Besides, silent image was a concentration spell, and there were other more important things that Parum might need her focus on. "Alright, just the feather fall then." The group moved around the outskirt of the camp to get above the cliffs. There were far less people in the camp now, which meant less people watching. What Parum wished there was also less of was sheet height between the cliff and the cave; she thought it might've been a sixty, maybe one-hundred foot drop. And while she couldn't be too certain of it's exact measurements, she was positive that this cliff they were about to jump off of was much higher. Too late to turn back now. Parum gulped. "Got to time it right. Get ready everyone. One... Two... Three!"

And then they jumped. They fell quickly, but not so quickly that Parum couldn't time her spell just right; once they were about fifty feet or so off the ground, she activated her spell and allowed all five of them to land on the ground safely. Their sudden arrival surely shocked the guards on watch though; they scrambled to get their weapons. Kyra went into the gave and sent an arrow into one of the sentries. Parum followed up by following after Kyra and targeting the same guard that she attacked. "It's too late for you, just die quietly." She mocked at the wounded guard, her words cutting deep into his thoughts.

The insults of the halfling had not had the desired outcome, the hardened minds of the fanatic discarding them to the side as they pulled their sword out of its sheath with fervour. Torus saw this, and decided to make an attempt at hindering the opposition's assault in another way. The druid did not rush in like many of his compatriots were expected to, but nor did he hang back as far as might be expected from someone of his old and frail appearance. He raised his hand, calling upon the powers of cold nature to stop the march of the destructive chromatic dragonkind. One cultist at a time. Flakes of frost began to coalesce on the sword arm of the opponent before them, the one whose chest was still decorated by an arrow.

The attack that targeted the less mental side of the adversary had greater success than its predecessor, the dragonclaw finding themselves unable to drive away the numbing sensation that began attacking their arm and making moving it increasingly difficult. Naturally the power of the magic would only prove to be enough for the initial touch rather than anything truly lasting, though by the looks of it something more permanent might well have taken place if not for the grit of the opponent. The sabre shook in unsteady grip and the posture slumped, but a ferocious expression on the visible lower half of the individual's face was of singular bloodlust.

And now for the most entertaining part of any day; fighting! Orchid drew his swords out as he fell, wanting to be ready to fight as soon as he landed. He used two scimitars, both taken from cultist warriors he had defeated. While two-weapon fighting wasn't exactly a style he was familiar with, it was one that he felt he could naturally adapt to. The girls and the old man took the initiative and attacked the cultist, one in particular who looks nearly dead. Grinning, Orchid dashed in like a hunting seeking prey, his first swing aiming for the most wounded cultist. But it was a feint. Orchid's first swing actually was directed towards the uninjured guard, to catch him off guard and slash into his body. But Orchid wasn't going to ignore the weaker of the two guards either; using the momentum of his first slash Orchid followed through with a full body spinning slash towards the wounded guard, aiming to decapitate the guardsman before he could even scream.

The sensation of weightlessness had been an odd experience for a youthful man who spent all his life prowling the woodland and its associated grasses with vim and vigor. Flight, rather even just gliding down, was a rare and uneasy experience. It was not natural to say the least yet it was unexpectedly effective, so much so that as soles of the hunter's boots hit the ground, and his newly fitted pieces of armor only spoke lightly to one another with a metallic jingle. Sword already drawn, well-worn gauntlets set to its grip, the shock of their sudden onset against the enemy disoriented the defenders and by the time he had rushed in to strike, one of the cultists had already been dropped to the cave floor by a flurry of misery leveled at them.

The other likely reeled at the quick slash of the blade performed by the half orc that nipped at them, only to find another combatant was upon them. A cross-body strike followed suit, powered by enormous, arguably inhuman, strength which gave the leading edge of the ornate weapon the means to threaten a viscous blow. All of Brannor, for a large man as he was, moved with a pivot and serene grace at the same time of the weapon, and that was what made the attack so destructive; it was not limited to pure force, rather it was a thing of innate and deadly skill too. He snarled after, a low, gravely sound, and pierced the darkness with his bright eyes, scanning for what the next threat might be before drawing them back to the enemy before him.


@Hekazu@Ryonara@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

It had barely been a contest. The outermost guard was struck down, and by all visible and audible accounts that was that. The deeper parts of the cavern looked ripe for ambush, but even the heavy blade wielding man of the wilds could not sense further threats in the immediate vicinity. One could go as far as to say that the locale could be considered eerily quiet. The ceiling extended fifteen feet up from the ground, the light of the sun shedding its gift from up on high to the mouth of the cave, the shadow slowly slipping deeper into the cave before it. But it wasn't likely that they could simply wait around for it to show them more. The wind moaned in the adventurer's ears, drowning most other sound if there was any to be heard. But it would also benefit them by obscuring the sounds of their arrival.

The sun's light barely reached out sixty feet past the opening, the passage staying largely as wide as it was at the entry, the full thirty feet getting cut down where the cave began to curve towards the right, even those with nightvision able to only see to the point where the third pillar joined the two former ones, each of them looking as natural as they came. A short walk deeper inside would reveal the tunnel to curve off into a smaller nook with no visible way forward, whereas curving back towards the left came a sudden ten foot drop with a set of fifteen to ten foot wide stairs leading downwards. At the bottom was what could only be interpreted as a farm, for the cavern was carpeted with a profusion of fungi ranging from few inches to nearly as tall as a human adult. Two paths lead through the fungi, one on the left and one on the right.

But this wasn't everything still. Before the decision for the next course of action to follow had been finalised, those with the ability to see in the dark would note wings flapping in the darkness. Small wings, but wings nonetheless. They had little time to react. If they wanted to get an edge on whatever was coming, they would need to hide themselves quickly.


@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Ryonara@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

The thick of the diverse fungi were not to the appreciation of the wilder, rather they posed more complications and questions than he wished. Rather than have the time to mull this over, someone, rather something based upon what his eyes could see among the darkness, was flapping its way about. He turned and sidestepped for the moment, back against the wall, hoping to break the line of sight of peering eyes that likely accompanied whatever it was; if an ambush could be set, all the better, and failing that throwing off whatever it was would not hurt. There was no telling yet what said beating wings belonged to, anything from bats to dragons came to mind in this odd amalgam of circumstance but there was no interest in the outlander in treating either case different.

All of the scene already into the cave, with steps and the sea of mushrooms, suggested to him the enemy was far, far more well established than he had ever thought them to be; the odds of this not being some creature defending the cult's cave was unreasonable. So the stubbled figure exhaled calmly, the point of the sword at ease against his boot and the cross serving to rest one arm, as prepared for whatever was next as one could be. What the others did from here he would not know until they did it...

... all he could hope was that they had the cunning to spring some sort of hasty trap.


@Hekazu@Ryonara@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

With the last of the sentries dead Kyra went to retrieve her arrow, if it was still good, as well as moving the bodies somewhere out of sight. She suspects they have maybe an hour or so before the bodies start to give off a stretch, and hopefully they'll be out of this cave before that happens. Remembering Parum's warning, Kyra focused on looking for enemies and keeping an eye out for any traps or ambushes. The group moved forward and Kyra kept her eyes trained on the shadows. It was then she noticed the fungi. Mushrooms weren't unusual to her, but ones as tall as a man? Surely magic. Kyra bemoaned her lack of nature knowledge; her training was in spells and medicine. For a Priestess of Chauntae, she was woefully lacking in herbalism. Still maybe she could remember something about these man-sized mushrooms from her books. Whether or not they were dangerous or unusual.

But as she was trying to remember her keen elven senses picked up on the sound of wings. Perhaps it was an imp or some other flying sentry; it wouldn't surprise Kyra if these cultist consorted with demons as well as dragons. Either way she sunk into the shadows and drew an arrow, getting ready to attack first.

Orchid smiled at Brannor as they cut down the guards with ease. They didn't even get a chance to draw their swords! Swords which Orchid would take for himself; just in case he looses his other swords or needs to pawn them off later. He stuffs them into his backpack as he cleans the blades and heads further in with the others. Orchid stayed low to the ground and made sure to keep his nose and ears open to anything strange or unusual; Parum said there were going to be kobolds here, and those creatures were small and sneaky. Orchid also needed to be small and sneaky. And it wasn't long before he saw some wings in the darkness. Orchid was going to hide, but remembered that Torus was a human and might've not been able to see what Orchid saw. So he went over to Torus and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hide. Flying enemy coming." He says in hushed tones as he looked for a rock to hide behind, getting low to the ground to minimizing his profile as well as being in a position to spring out and attack the enemy when he sees them.

Oddly enough, despite her initial thoughts wandering off to magic, something in Kyra's mind nagged at her. Above ground, many grew with an aversion for strong sunlight. Here where only fragments of the light could make it this far and they were possibly being tended to… if she was to believe the spores of these mushrooms to have come all the way from the dreaded Underdark, it would all add together. But was she going to go to such lengths, when magic was the much likelier explanation. And possibly less hostile to boot.

As soon as the beating of small wings and the creatures attached to them approaching had been noted, the adventurers scrambled. Each and every single one of them sought their own hiding spots, Torus realising that he would have to do such a thing only once the others had already been on the move for a few seconds. In the end, the monsters further away ended up catching on the presence of intruders through the least prepared and the most noisy examples. Their war cries echoed sharply in the cavern, but there was still hope that the five creatures emerging from the mist would not alert others were those noises silenced swiftly enough. And as for what they were, it would be known soon as they would fly close enough to be recognisable.

Their adversaries were kobolds with leathern wings on their backs. Only those who'd taken part in the burning of the kobold huts more directly might have seen these before, in service to the cult of the Dragon or outside of it. Two dived to the mass of mushrooms below the ledge and out of view, while the three still flapping in the air drew their daggers and prepared to charge at their ten foot flight height. They stalled momentarily, as if waiting for something.


@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Ryonara@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

"Crap." Parum thought as she took cover behind a rock. Some creatures came, winged kobolds. She's heard about them before but she's never seen them until now. They don't seem to have noticed her yet, but it definitely knew the party was here. They needed to get the jump on them first and do as much damage as possible, so Parum taunted it from behind the rock as she drew her rapier. "Wux vorq hefoc vi wiik!" She says as she moves so the rock was between her and the kobolds in the event they try and go after her.

The strain on the sinew of the huntsman's bow tightened as the knocked arrow fell further back, the obscuring walls of the cave and their natural shadows affording just enough cover and concealment for the deadly bolt to be not only freed but launched at all. The air within the man's chest quietly exited and his whole body fell into a stillness; eyes watching the beating wings, he timed the shot to try and puncture one. Immediately, as his fingers loosed the shot, the entirety of the arrow launched itself with blinding speed across the cave and dead toward the scaly thing, just as he had peppered the far larger one some nights before. A bow wasn't the man's most masterful application of weapon but it was a deadly tool all the same when the enemy was out of reach, just as they were in the dark, low hang of the cave.

The second fight was on for real now, as the foes had probably realized it was far more than just an insult slinging halfling and an odd shadowed figure or two. Their odd flying knack was going to prove annoying as well but the priestess, old man, and small woman all had shown many times they had ample means to deal with that, not just in raw firepower either but wit. As for the half-blood? Brannor never pretended to know what the wildman had in store and as he knocked another arrow, fletching between his leather shrouded fingers, he was not about to spend the time thinking on it either; the cave, mushrooms, dragons, and now these flying vermin were his concerns.


@Hekazu@Ryonara@Gordian Nought@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

Torus saw the situation before him and cracked his worn knuckles, feeling for the power of nature that he knew coursed within his veins. A regrettably familiar sensation kept calling for him to use the might in the most aggressive manner he could rely upon, to bring forth an explosion of noise and a ripping gale, much like in the many seafaring combats the intruding spirit he had thought gone by the blessing of the village priest not all that long ago at all. But he knew better than to follow the voice blindly. Useful as taking down the brunt of the opposition might be, it would reveal them for the entirety of this cave. While it was still early on in and they could run away, it wasn't what they were looking for at all. So there had to be another option. One that still relied on memories of water and weather, but in much less destructive manner.

The druid stepped forth, waving his hand to summon forth a cloud of fog, one that covered a great deal of the area to the left of him. He'd already seen Brannor let loose his arrow, so enveloping the warrior of the wilds in the cloud would be much lesser a problem than inconveniencing the pink haired Cleric's shot at the lone enemy left outside the suddenly appearing visual obscuration. But a distraction was not all he could be for the party. As he strode forward, the man fell again on all fours, the presence of man slipping away as fur and bestial wrath pushed forth. The enemy was weak. The choice of form was feral and lean over the usual hulking brute, Torus adopting the shape of a Giant Hyaena and diving halfway into the cloud, ready to gnaw at any hostile creature to try and flee its shroud.

Flying kobolds! Orchid's never heard or seen anything like that before. He was interested in tearing off their wings and making something out of it. Perhaps his own pair of wings? No matter, it was time to attack. Everyone struck forward with bows and spells, and Orchid eyed the two kobolds closest to the cliff. Perhaps with a single leap, Orchid could cut it down. It was risky but that would be the kobold that Orchid would attack regardless. Sure he might need to jump for it but he didn't fear the fall. The fog cloud on the other hand would make things difficult. There was only one target that Orchid could see, so it would have the be the one who went after!

Moving in closer Orchid dropped one of his scimitars so he could grab his javelin, which he proceeded to hurl at the only kobold he could see. He wanted to preserve the wings, so he'll aim for the kobold's head. Once thrown Orchid readies his scimitar for any kobold that might rush pass him out from the fog.

Kobolds came flying out from the cave, immediately spotting Orchid and Torus. She cursed quietly under her breath but remained hidden, drawing the arrow on her bow. Torus, for some reason, cased a spell that summoned forth a thick cloud of fog that completely obscured her vision. While this might send the kobolds in some disarray, it wouldn't do Kyra any good. She could only vaguely make out the position of the kobolds and she wasn't sure if that was because they were moving around or because of their wings. "Tch." She was especially concerned because she was certain she saw a few more kobolds running away, possibly to warn others. She knew they were hiding among the mushrooms, which still gave her much to worry about. If what Parum said was true, it's possible that the kobolds set these mushrooms as traps for the uninformed. If nothing else, giant mushrooms were not normal and should be avoided.

Putting that thought aside for now Kyra simply drew her arrow and awaited at her hidden location to send an arrow into any kobold she saw, be it from the cloud or from the mushrooms. She'd also shoot any other threat that might come around such as other cultists or beasts.