Vorgrok spins from his assault at the strange plant creatures to cast a frenzied glare about the motley group. "Ya'd best be glad ya missed me!" he barks behind him, clearly unsure of exactly who might have been behind the various projectiles that had been whizzing past his head. To punctuate his point, the dwarf repeatedly raps the thick mallet head of his improvised weapon into one open palm with a meaty thwhack, fingers bulging from the still-dissipating rage.
After several seconds, the dwarf's muscles seem to relax, and he hops heavily down the wagon's steps to breathe deeply, resting his hands on his knees as the others step up to investigate the wagon. Re-mounting the wagon's steps, he glares into the space with one eyebrow raised in questioning suspicion.
Spoiler: Action
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Try to recall info on the plants? Medicine is +5, Nature is +2, Survival is +5.
(1d20)[9]