Game Thread Chapter 2: Siege of Bordrin's Watch - Page 68 - RPG Crossing
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  #1006  
Old 10-14-2019, 05:31 AM
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Bryn Kragkiln
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She had worn and worked with arms and armor as early as she could remember, but today Bryn could feel the weight of it chafe on her shoulders and back. She cricked her neck and felt the aches all over her body, having no real chance to rest or breathe, save for this moment.

And yet, thank Moradin, the line held.

The red-haired cleric shifts her green-eyed gaze to Madric, and his shy offer made her smile. It was a rare thing these days - to have something to smile about - yet this halfling boy and his generosity were definitely something to energize even the weariest of warriors.

"Quite thoughtful of ye, Madric; I'm not sure Bandit feels the same way, though!"

Bryn laughed, curling a finger under the rodent's furry chin.

"But I'm sure there are others here who need it more than I do. However-" The dwarven cleric leans it a bit closer to the halfling. "I wouldn't mind taking some from this rascal Bandit's portion! Ha!"

Bryn snags a portion of the bread, then playfully offers it inches from Bandit's face. Just as Madric pet's paws reach out to grab it, she puts the piece of bread in her mouth and winks at the boy.

"Thank ye kindly, Madric. What I really need are more bandages; Moradin knows there's never enough of those. If you could scrounge up some for me, even if it's just clean garments from the dead, that would help greatly. Can ye do that?"

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  #1007  
Old 10-14-2019, 12:29 PM
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Brand
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The fighting had begun, as it often did, in earnest.

Bodies and blood, the stink of excrement and burnt flesh and gore, the icy clarity of adrenaline and the hum of battle in his core as he commanded men and molded the very fabric of reality into devastation. Brand had been far from battle in many long years, though he kept himself ready for it, and while he never missed the violence of combat or the crush of fighting in lockdown, it was startling how easily he'd slipped back into the frame of mind required to survive conflict. It was familiar, like strapping on his sword in the morning or brewing a cup of tea.

But that didn't mean it lacked for difficulty. Brand had only been in the city for a few hours when they'd lowered the portcullis and called for defenders on the wall, and in the days since he'd accepted a temporary commission with the city's guard as an officer, he'd gotten only a scant six hours or so of sleep. His mind, sharper in his middle age than most men could ever claim, grew more and more difficult to clear when needed, and he could feel the strange inner fatigue that came with overuse of his arcane abilities washing over him with each new hour. Even his armor, a gift from long ago forged of silvery mithril and lighter than a suit of plate had any right to be, grew heavy on his frame as he moved about Bordrin's Watch directing warriors and lobbing salvos of arcane bolts or summoning globes of hellfire that set entire groups of orcs ablaze.

To make things worse, he was having to compensate as one of the few remaining officers simply so they could maintain the structure of command, positioning contingents on and at the base of Bordrin's Watch to keep the wall. With each officer felled by an orcish arrow or goblin warrior that managed to scale the wall, the length of wall and number of men under Brand's control grew, spreading him thin. Many of them weren't even soldiers at this point, having lost a great deal of Overlook's actual military force; much of the remaining force were members of the city watch or adventurers-***-mercenaries looking to earn renown and profit in the city's defense. It all culminated in a distinct headache right in the center of his skull, radiating out to his eyes and anywhere the padding of his helmet met his skin.

But despite it all, they held the wall, and as the attackers grew more desperate in their attempts to gain entry to the city, Brand began to recognize the telltale signs that a force might break as the enemy's already disorganized waves of warriors became clump-like, composed of less fearsome troops with equipment of lower quality. The first waves had been relentless, brutally-effective troops in good kit that fought like demons; if the attackers had possessed the wherewithal to bring siege engines other than the long scaling ladders and boulder-tossing ogres, this siege may have ended very quickly in their favor. In the last few hours, though, he'd noted smaller numbers of ogres and tanarruks, and even fewer of the hulking orcs that had made up many of the initial war bands, and more of the smaller half-orcs and goblins wielding hastily-forged weapons and armor. It left him feeling a little better about their situation than he had in days, and their next scheduled rest came as a boon.

He'd settled onto a crate of materiel near the battlement to observe the enemy as they marshaled their next force, his helmet resting in his lap. He'd needed to escape the watchful eyes of his men for a moment; the displays of arcane might he'd given combined with his easy command had caused many of them to look upon him with no small sense of awe, and a number of their force had begun calling him Lord or General Greymane, despite the fact that his commission had only given him the authority of a captain and even field promotions couldn't elevate him past commander. While he couldn't correct or admonish them for it lest he risk demoralizing them, he couldn't help but regret its happening. If men hesitated on the battlefield to look for a hero to save them, they'd find themselves bleeding out on the ground.

So when the watchman, Rowan, had approached him with a cup of water and not reverence in his eyes but kindness, Brand breathed a sigh of relief. He raised the cup to the watchman, dipping his head in thanks before unbuckling his gorget so he could drink deeply. Brand had drained his canteen hours ago, filled first with tea meant to be enjoyed cool and then the still water that had been placed in barrels along the wall for the defenders to drink, but this water was fresh and sweet. Rowan must have fetched it from the fountains in the courtyard below them before carrying it up the steps to where the defenders maintained the wall.

"Thank you, friend," Brand said when he'd finished, feeling refreshed from the water that had slaked his thirst and cleared the slightest amount of fatigue from him. "You are more than welcome to join me. Brand Greymane, acting commander. I'm afraid I don't recognize you, Rowan; what contingent are you attached to?"


Brand
 



OOC, Actions, & Rolls

Happy to be here! I know this is a wall of text, but I promise my future posts will only be a couple of paragraphs, lol.

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Last edited by ParzivalFair; 10-14-2019 at 12:32 PM.
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  #1008  
Old 10-14-2019, 02:06 PM
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Dantas Rocannon
Human Male Eldritch Knight

 

Dantas looked to his left, where Moonbrook's magic arrow had cut a hole through the forming fog a moment before. He thought he glimpsed a smile on her face, but his eyes weren't nearly as good as hers. The young noble nodded, then turned his attention back to the walkway. Tusk and Myrissa were down, but the battle was far from over.

Dantas wanted nothing more than to charge ahead, to fall on the orcs with his brother's blade. To be there when their blood boiled and the room filled with water. Only, Kalad was right. As many souls had fallen in the attack on Overlook, Tusk was nothing more than a pawn in the broader game of Dragonchess. He clamped down on the urge to charge ahead with Kalad. Instead, he mirrored Agnes, grabbing ahold of Tusk's torn suit of armor and dragging the massive warlord's body from the front line of battle.

Dantas gave the body one final heave, then fell on it, letting sword and shield clatter to the side. He wiped condensation from his brow with the back of his hand as the search of Tusk's body began. Usually he would leave this to someone else, but he couldn't let go of the fact that hidden somewhere on the orc's body might be a reason for all the killing. He tossed the warlord's weapons away, then started to cut through the seems in the armor with the tip of his dagger. A note, a letter, anything to answer why.

Behind him, the two summoned hounds that had until now stayed back charged up behind Kalad, ready to pull the remaining orcs down beside them.


 
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Old 10-19-2019, 07:16 AM
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Anastrianna "Moonbrook" Siannodel
Female Elf Ranger

 


Moonbrook continues to climb toward the top of the ladder as the arrows and mystical weapon assail her. The exit is blocked by an hatch that is old and rusted and does not look like it has been opened in years. She reaches up and grabs the wheel that locks the hatch in place. Her footing is not the best, but she plants her foot against the rung of the ladder to give as much leverage as possible.

"Rillifane Rallathil, give me strength," she whispers as she pushes with her foot and strains with her arms to turn the wheel and unlock the hatch.


 
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Old 10-25-2019, 01:09 PM
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Noticing the satchel hanging from the edge of the platform, she pauses for a moment and clenches her left fist. As she does so, a faint blue symbol glows on the back of it, and a spectral skeleton hand appears next to the satchel, grabbing it and picking it up.

While the hand does so, Haaliryl moves further down the platform, eyeing the satchel the whole time.

 
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Old 11-06-2019, 08:04 AM
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Currently
Date 3rd of Marpenoth, the Leaffall, 1493 DR
Time 7:35 am
Location The Nexus
Region Overlook, Stonehome Mountains
Weather Early Morning, 39 F/ 4 C

”The Nexus”
COMBAT: ROUND 7

Rising with a continual inevitability, the steaming hot water ascends the chamber, enveloping the Orc Fury and the fourth tunnel in a hot mist to obscure them from view. As Dantas quickly looks through Tusk’s form, trying to be methodical, but missing a lot of things, whether through pressure or the press for time, he’s finding little in his quick search of the warlord’s body, other than the weaponry still on his person.

Haaliryl successful grasped the satchel before it could fall in the water below, and in pulling it up, can hear the jostle of a few items within. What, is uncertain, but who knows what a vampiric witch may have valued and held onto.

Moonbrook was doing her best to wrench the heavy hatch open, but despite an immense effort on her part, the hatch barely budged at all. She could hear the strain of metal, but it sounded like she couldn’t quite shift it’s rust or aged metal loose.

Aiming his wand towards the foremost orc sniffer, Belkas
Dice Belkas vs SNiffer 1:
1d20+6sch14 (9)+6 Total = 15
→ 1d10+4g (10)+4 Total = 14
unleashes another eldritch blast, the duotone ball of energy propelling towards the combatant.

Kalad pants as the exertion of fighting with Tusk seems to take its toll slightly on his exhausted body, readying his greataxe for the next orc to find its way up the stairs before him, "We just gotta hold the line until the water does the job for us. Don’t get complacent! We’re not out of the woods yet. There may be more coming!"

As if on cue, the group can hear roars from the mist below, and watch as the Fury from early barrels up the stairs, leaping the steps almost completely, rage fuelling his approach towards the defenders. From just behind, they watch as another orc, running but with less abandon, and a glowing green eye, gestures towards their landing and another spiritual battleaxe appears next to Agnes,
Dice Orc Eye 2 vs Agnes:
1d20+3sch18 (5)+3 Total = 8
swiping down upon her.

The other spectral battleaxe rises upward in the air, moving closer to Moonbrook and taking
Dice Orc Eye 1 vs Moonbrook:
1d20+3sch16 (20 (natural 20))+3   Total = 23
→ 1d8+1g (7)+1 Total = 8
Dice Critical damage:
1d8 5
another swipe at her, while the sniffer down below
Dice Sniffer 2 vs Kalad:
1d20+4sch18 (10)+4 Total = 14
fires at Kalad on the stairs. The Eye of Gruumush simultaneously runs up the stairs and engages with Dantas,
Dice Orc Eye 1 vs Dantas:
1d20+6sch19 (15)+6 Total = 21
→ 2d8+4g (5, 6)+4 Total = 15
using his spear to attack the distracted nobleman. Kalad uses
Dice Kalad vs Orc Eye 1:
1d20+5sch16 (2)+5 Total = 7
the opportunity to slice into the Eye of Gruumsh.

Maximus meanwhile was arranging his fingers in precisely the same manner as just moments before, and launched a long sliver of ice
Dice Ice knife:
1d20+4sch16 (17)+4 Total = 21
→ 1d10g 2
Dice Ice explosion:
2d6 2, 1 Total = 3
Dice Sniffer 1 dex save:
1d20+2sch12 (1 (natural 1))+2   Total = 3
Dice Sniffer 2 dex save:
1d20+2sch12 (2)+2 Total = 4
Dice Orc Fury Dex:
1d20+1sch12 (8)+1 Total = 9
towards the clumped group of Orcs at the side, hoping to finish a group of them off at once!

Agnes motions with her hand and her spiritual katana maneuvers towards the fury,
Dice Spiritual Weapon vs Fury:
1d20+6sch13 (20 (natural 20))+6   Total = 26
→ 1d8+4g (2)+4 Total = 6
Dice Crit damage:
1d8 5
swiping at the furious orc to try and whittle it down. Glaring with her one eye towards the one-eyed Orc of Gruumsh, Agnes flings her hand forward and a searing light launches
Dice Agnes vs Orc Eye 1:
1d20+6sch16 (10)+6 Total = 16
→ 5d6g 6, 5, 3, 2, 5 Total = 21
towards the orc spell caster.




”Of War and Magic...”Rowan couldn’t help but laugh, the expression on his face clear that it was ruefully. "The Overlook Watch, Commander Greymane. As of a few hours ago, specifically with The Direboars. I joined the Watch so my wife would feel a bit better about the dangers. Drunks and the like. Turns out Overlook expects a bit more out of their Watch. I’m not complaining… just gotta figure out how to appease my wife when I’m back."

"WEEELLLLL Sgt. Driscoll, now that I’ve got you workin’ fer the Boars, ye can take that little clan-in-makin’ of yers and take ‘em to a nice place ta eat. I’ll get ye a few recommendations… also a tailor in town who makes some fine clothin’ fer lasses an’ ladies. ‘Til then, shut the FOOK up with yer prattle an’ let’s get down ta business!"

right-aligned image
Durkik Forgeheart


Glancing in the direction of the boisterous introductions, Bran and Rowan can see a middle-aged dwarf with brown hair and beard walking towards the pair, flanked by well-armored, mostly dwarven Watchman, although they carry themselves like highly trained soldiers. Bran, in his brief officer debriefing, recognized the dwarf as Captain Durkik Forgeheart, the overall commander of Overlook’s militia, and the right-hand confidant to the Fireforge Clan’s Elder, and Overlook’s overall military command.

"Actin’-Commander Greymane! Effective immediately ye’re transferrin’ ta the Direboar’s, servin’ directly under myself. One o’ my boys will take over fer yer unit. I need someone with yer unique skills. This whole day smells like tha orcs have another pile o’ shite wafting towards us. Their actions dinnae make any sense, even fer green-skins. I need ya ta monitor their troop movements as we work on tha front lines. See what insights yer war-magic gives ya. I’ll even assign Sgt. Worry-wort to manage yer protective detail and serve as runner. Aye?"

"Captain Forgeheart!!!"

Suddenly, a young runner races up towards the Captain, sweat pouring from his brow as though he had travelled through the pits of the Nine Hell’s to arrive here. Panting, he delivers a missive to the Captain who begins to read quickly through the note…

"Ah Pelor’s Piss! Son of a Hag on Temple’s Mass door!!! Gah!" Throwing the note down on the ground and stomping on it, he quickly drew his battle axe and his assembled men quickly drew their own weaponry, including Rowan. "Change of plans, follow me. Now!"

Moving quickly from the battlements, the small, but elite unit, began to descend from the battlements, not deigning to wait for Bran to follow, but assuming he would.


”Between a Dourstone and a Kragkiln...” Bandit, who had been looking suspiciously at Bryn since the dwarf had joined their adventuring group, seemed to soften as food was offered back to him. His almost human-like paws reached forward to grab, just as it was pulled from his clutches. The look of disbelief, sadness, and then confirmation of a deeply held mistrust took over the beast… and the open paw closed into a fist it seemed…

But Madric couldn’t help but laugh and stood up, taking Bandit with him, "I’ll see what I can scrounge up Madam Kragkiln. Be back in a second!"

Ragnum chuckled as he watched the retreating Bandit on Madric’s shoulder, eyes burning with hate towards Bryn. "That’s a powerful foe you’ve acquired there Bryn. I’ve seen Bandit do some fantastically terrible things to folks." The dwarven mentor Bryn had known much of her adult life was taking a moment to rest, his eyes thus far mostly shut, a childish grin on his face. [say]The clerics of Moradin from the Overlook temple, as greedy as they can be, are still here to render aid. Rest while you can Bryn. We must keep the bigger picture in mind constantly. You can get lost in the detail work of forging with intricate designs, but if the blade is flimsy, there is little point.[/saying]

Meagan, the human leader of the adventuring group stretches and yawns, "I would have assumed fighting in the mountain air would have been much chillier during this time of year, but it’s been surprisingly comfortable. Working up a sweat just sitting here even."

The pensive elven archer, Sylen, was shaking his head as his hand was pressed flat against the stone beneath them, "’Tis not the wind, nor weather Meagan. Something is happening beneath this fortress…"

"Ah Pelor’s Piss! Son of a Hag on Temple’s Mass door!!! Gah!"

Ragnum chuckles as his eyes open wide to the cursing happening out of sight atop the battlements close-by. "That sounds like Durkik… he always had a way with words…"

Barreling down the battlement steps and moving towards the courtyard they currently occupied, Captain Durkik Forgeheart pointed to the resting Freeriders, "Mistress Swiftblade an’ Ragnum you old goat! Get yer group in gear! Yer needed ta save Bordrin’s Watch immediately! Some green-rats are comin’ up soon an’ I plan ta meet ‘em with steel!"

Quickly matching by, the Captain is followed by a mostly orc contingent of skilled warriors, followed closely behind by a blonde-haired human wielding two rapiers, and a middle-aged human soldier with the bearing of an officer.




”OODM” Sorry for the delay folks. Moving is a pain in all asses.

@Nasrith: This round you didn’t find anything on his body, but that doesnt’ mean there isn’t anything. I just rolled a 3 for your investigation check. Haha. So, you can continue to search, if so, roll another investigation check, but in the 6 seconds you spent searching thus far, you were too panicked to notice anything relevant other than what’s obvious on Tusk’s person.


ENCOUNTER MAP

Initiative Tracker

INITIATIVE ORDER
Group 1
Haaliryl (22)
Belkas (20)
Kalad: (17)

Enemy (17)
Name / AC / HP
Orc Sniffer 1 14 4/13
Orc Eye of Gruumsh 1 16 20/45
Orc Fury 1 13 51/67
Orc Eye of Gruumsh 2 16 45/45
Orc Campaigner **DEAD**
Orc Soldier 1 **DEAD**
Orc Soldier 2 **DEAD**
Orc Soldier 3 **DEAD**
Tusk **DEAD**
Myrissa **DEAD**
Orc Sniffer 3 **DEAD**
Orc Sniffer 2 **DEAD**



Group 2
Dantas (12)
Moonbrook & Nix (12)
Agnes (7)
Maximus (4)


Encounter Map NotesClick on image to go to the map.

Stairs: Difficult Terrain
Metal Pipes: If you are within 5 feet of the pipes, you suffer 1d10 fire damage.
Catwalk: They are steel grates, you can see through the grates to the level below, but you are unable to fire a ranged attack through the grate.

Any questions or ideas you have, please ask.

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GM: Scales of War 5e & Yeohven: Fall from Grace
Moving week of Oct 21st. Expect delays, sorry for inconvenience, NPC me if you must to keep games going! Will post when I can!

Last edited by MontageManiac; 11-06-2019 at 08:15 AM.
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  #1012  
Old 11-06-2019, 10:31 PM
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Bryn Kragkiln
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As Bandit bounded off into the distance looking off of Madric's shoulders and stared pure, unrefined hatred towards Bryn, the cleric winked at the raccoon mischievously while she still chewed on the bread she had taken from the halfling's offering. Ragnum saw it too and chuckled, but it was evident that too was wearied by long hours of battle.

"I'll make it up to him, nae ta worry Ragnum! Speakin' o' rest, ye look like yer more likely ta topple more'n me. Ye okay?"

It was then that Maeghan stretched and yawned and commented about the weather. Sylen, one of the archers of the Freeriders, said there was something going on under them. The cleric was about to ask when she heard the unmistakeable voice of a dwarf cussing like he had no mother to rebuke him. Moments later an armored dwarf with brown hair was rushing up to them, blurting out something about orcs. Bryn had only heard about Captain Forgeheart recently, who was of the Overlook Watch.

I guess those are the Direboars? Wonder how they feel about killing their own? I'd certainly think twice, if I were up against dwarves...

Bryn saw the need to take up arms again, and she sighed in preparation of what was about to come. She wiped her hands of any remaining blood and took out the Kargkiln shield that was strapped to her back and wore it on her arm. She then drew her warhammer and raised it in the air as she followed the Captain of the Watch to wherever it was they were going. All-Father, guide me!

"By Moradin, I'll need a drink after this! Three drinks!"

OOC
 

 
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Last edited by DanshiiWithWulfs; 11-06-2019 at 10:37 PM.
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  #1013  
Old 11-07-2019, 11:26 AM
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Brand
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And just like that, his brief repose was over.

"Sergeant Tolliver," Brand called, buckling his gorget back on and grabbing his helmet, "You're in command until Captain Forgeheart's subordinate arrives. Delegate your duties to Squadleader Deeplight, and hold this wall!"

Thrusting his helmet into place, Brand took off after the other group, mithril-plated boots pounding the stone of the wall as he went. Whatever Forgeheart had read in that missive had spooked him, and Brand knew anything that could send a man like that running into action was well worth caution. So he ripped his side-sword from its place on his baldric and darted after the other soldiers, adrenaline and battle haze replacing the sluggishness he'd felt earlier. Whatever they were to face, he was ready for it.


Brand
 



OOC, Actions, & Rolls

To arms! For our purposes, the side-sword (also known as a spada da lato) is just a re-skinned rapier. Contrary to D&D's umbrella-terms for weapons, the rapier was almost never used in large-scale combat, so the idea of a seasoned veteran like Brand carrying one bothered me; a side-sword, in contrast, is a little wider and a little heavier, but still light enough to be carried day to day, and perfect for a man like Brand. Just a little sword history for ya, there.

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  #1014  
Old 11-11-2019, 04:50 PM
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Dantas Rocannon
Human Male Eldritch Knight

 

It was no use. Drenched in sweat and barely able to see down to Tusk's body, Dantas couldn't find a thing. He roared in frustration, sending a pulse of energy up around him that frustrated the charging Eye's attack.

Snapping up his sword and summoning the shield back to his hand, he
Dice Longsword Attack on Eye of Gruumsh 1:
1d20+5sch14 (3)+5 Total = 8
lunged forward. The startled orc leaped away, but at least he was back in the fight. At the same time, Dantas' two summoned mastiffs rushed around the noble and his opponent to bite at the
Dice Mastiff 1 Attack on EoG1:
1d20+3sch16 (14)+3 Total = 17
Dice Mastiff 2 Attack on EoG1:
1d20+3sch16 (13)+3 Total = 16
spearman's legs. The Eye of Gruumsh's cry was matched by the growling dogs' growls as each
Dice Mastiff 1 Damage:
1d6+1 (6)+1 Total = 7
Dice Mastiff 2 Damage:
1d6+1 (5)+1 Total = 6
clamped down on an exposed calf and tried to pull it to the ground.


 

Last edited by Nasrith; 11-11-2019 at 04:58 PM.
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Old 11-22-2019, 03:43 AM
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Anastrianna "Moonbrook" Siannodel
Female Elf Ranger

 


Moonbrook gives up on trying to open the door when the wheel does not budge at all. She’ll need to rely on someone a bit stronger to force it.

Instead, she draws her bow again and draws a bead on the nearest orc to her companions. She draws back and fires across the battlefield into the side of the orc. It doesn’t quite take the wild-looking creature down, but the shaft sinks deep before the arrow disappears and the elf is searching out her next target, confident that her companions will finish that one off in a moment.


 
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  #1016  
Old 12-07-2019, 06:00 AM
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Date 3rd of Marpenoth, the Leaffall, 1493 DR
Time 7:36 am
Location The Nexus
Region Bordrin’s Watch, Stonehome Mountains
Weather Early Morning, 39 F/ 4 C

”The Nexus”
COMBAT: CONCLUSION

Much as Moonbrook had described earlier, the scene was reminiscent of a sinking ship as many rats in the storage hold tried to flee their inevitable doom. The orcs were the most ferocious rats these rat-catchers had come across so far.

Still, Sakura Company had a lot of assistance on their side: the dog patch Dantas used from his newly found cloak was being put to amazing use. The Mastiffs seemed to be exceptionally well trained, even compared to the nobleman’s family hounds which were considered of an elite pedigree within the Duchy of Sayre. But these canines put them to shame.

The Orc fury who charged up the stairs was met with gnashing teeth and taught, territorial muscle. Their master needed them to hold the line, and watching their Alpha swing the glorious blade that seemed to sparkle in the darkest shadows it swings through.

The top of the stairs became a blurred vision of blades, armor, blood and flesh. The steps became slick with blood, mixing with the boiling water quickly rising from below. For any orcs caught behind the front lines, arcane projectiles and arrows of light shot forth unerringly into their marks.

At one point, Kalad called out to Haaliryl, "Use the panel to unlock the hatch! We should be done here soon, don’t falter!" Rushing to the mechanical panel she’d worked on earlier, Haaliryl maneuvers some of the complicated switches and gears, until finally there is the sound of a mechanism turning over. Rust falls from the hatch above the ladder as unseen gears begin to turn the sealed hatch, centuries of corroded metal shaking off while turning.

As the hatch slowly opened above, the last of the orcs were being held at the final stairs as the boiling water was rising up to burn their legs. From above they could hear a shout, "Oiy! Ye better be friendly, otherwise ye be gettin’ a case-full o’ bolts in yer arse!"

The voice was familiar to most of the group, a new acquaintance they had made recently, although time seemed to blur during this particular conflict. The final eye of Gruumsh was slain, and fell backward into the boiling water, green flaming eye socket slowly fading as the body descended into the steaming water.

The sound of machinery ceased, and the water finally stopped rising. With panting, groaning, and the sounds of weaponry resting upon metal flooring below, the cessation of conflict is broken by Maximus the Magnificent, "See, we’re quite lucky, as there was a reality where the mechanism was so old the boiling death water would continue to rise even past this top platform… hehe…"

A moment of reflection took over as just about everyone turned to look at Maximus, who was also thinking on the matter. "Actually… I’m going to just-" to which the odd wizard bolted for the ladder and began scrambling up, "Don't shoot! I’m a halfling wizard and far more valuable to you alive than dead! I killed orcs!"

In time, and with less panic, the entire group manages to get themselves out of the Nexus. Kalad gives Dantas’ a hand with bringing his loyal mastiffs up the ladder. Nix managed well with his blink ability as Moonbrook helped him up partially. Haaliryl has secured the satchel from the vampire half-Orc, and arriving topside they were greeted with familiar faces.

The voice was none other than Durkik Forgeheart, captain of Overlook’s militia, leader of the elite Watch unit, the Direboars, and second-in-command of Bordrin’s Watch current military efforts. He looked relieved to find you all rather than an incursion of orcs coming up their rear.

Joining Durkik at the hatch appeared to be Rowan, looking as shocked to see you as you likely are to see him. Just beyond, but taking positions next to the Direboars, are the Freeriders, the adventuring group you met on your journey to Overlook. With some dumbfounded looks on their faces, everyone helps you up from the sweltering hatch.

The cold mountain air hits you like a hammer, but compared to the stifling heat of the volcanic water below, it is a relief in more ways than one. Kalad places a hand to his forehead and begins to laugh, "Alright folks, so… one thing about them potions that I may have forgot to emphasize: you’re going to feel reeeeeally shitty right about n-Ugh!"

Almost doubling over in exhaustion, the core group of Sakura Company seems to suddenly collapse on the ground as their forced march and progression through the Nexus hits them like a ton of bricks. Whatever magic or pharmaceutical additivate may have been in those dwarven potions was coming back to roost. Even the strongest amongst you, Dantas, whose youthful vigor typically saw him through most endeavours lay him flat on his arse.

It’s alright however, they were amongst friends and comrades in arms now. While the exhaustion settled in on their bodies, they were able to at least rest for a short while. Upon discovering that Tusk’s body was below, Durkik chuckled to himself and knew there was still work to be done, but it seemed far less insurmountable, thanks to these adventuring band of idiots…





Some Time Later at Bordrin’s Watch




”Of War and Magic...”Bran spent the next few days working with Rowan on a special task that Durkik had set for them. The orc warlord, Tusk, or at least his body, was found below where the heroes of the hour, the Sakura Company, had been pulled from. They apparently had prevented the entire Bordrin’s Watch from being overrun. Whoever they were, it seemed every soldier in this fortress, indeed, all of Overlook, owed them a life-debt.

The task Captain Fireforge had laid out for them was fairly simple: There was a note found amongst Tusk’s belongings, something that made Durkik quite troubled, and when he showed it to Rowan, the young sergeant’s positive countenance turned dark and sour almost immediately. The note was from someone named, “The Emissary”, and served as a letter of introduction between Tusk and the Emissary’s liaison, Myrissa, who would serve the warlord in his efforts to overrun Bordrin’s Watch and march on Overlook. While that was disturbing to Rowan enough, what really bothered the young human and Durkik was the mention of a gang in Overlook who was supposedly helping weaken defenses in the city in preparation for the invasion: The Lost Ones.

They were not unknown to Rowan, who had run into them before when they had kidnapped his adopted daughter, Jax, when he first brought his family to Overlook. Durkik wanted Bran and Rowan to look into the matter personally, and only report to Durkik. There was potential for a traitor to be placed rather highly amongst the Overlook bureaucracy, and Captain Forgeheart wasn’t about to leave anything to chance.

There was still fighting to be done at the mountain fortress, but it would become their sole assignment once they returned to Overlook.


”Legacy of the Rocannon’s”Dantas was recovering with everyone else in the Company, but as will happen with trauma, it sneaks up on you when you have little to do. For two days the entire group was exhausted because of the potions they drank, and were forced (more ordered) by Durkik to sit out the fighting. Without much to occupy his mind, the memory of Zakar’s grizzly death below came back to haunt, and torment the young noble. The sword he used, Stormbringer, was his family’s legacy. A symbol of the future ruler of Sayre, passed from his father to Zakar when he was named to be the next successive Duke of Sayre.

As word of their journey spread throughout the fortress, Dantas eventually found himself visited by a recently familiar face: Hallal Rocannon, his uncle, and exiled Marquis of Sayre. Approaching the young nobleman, the elder Rocannon glanced from the exhausted fighter to the sword resting upon his knees. Eyes, known only to be hard for as long as Dantas had come to be reacquainted with the man, softened. Placing a hand upon Dantas’ shoulder, he said, "Speak your truth, and air all pain so the mountain may sweep it away. Tell me what happened so that we may heal together. Zakar may have been an ass… but he was still my nephew, and I share in this pain with you Dantas."


”Order of the Oakstaff”As Dantas is spoken to privately with an elder man who looked somewhat similar, Moonbrook is gently scratching Nix behind his ears when she hears the sound of plate-mail striding towards her seated position. Looking upward, she can see the familiar eladrin, moving with a grace that puts even her own elven brethren to shame: Knight General of Astrazalian, Laucian Liadon. "Well met initiate Siannodel. I have gotten just the barest of information about your journey to arrive at this fortress, but I suspect much of the finer details were lost when the dwarves retold the tale. I see you are in one piece, and I can see that your heart is filled with an anger at the orcs that still burns bright. Tell me, did your pain still drive you to kill them with no remorse? Did it alleviate the suffering in your eyes I saw when we first met?"


”Feast of Ravens”For the most part Haaliryl kept to herself, and when alone glanced through the belongings of the vampire’s pouch which she had kept to herself for the time being, perhaps to share or bring up with the others in time: about 350 gold pieces, a couple of missives written in orcish from what she could tell, a strange metal tube, made of brass she was fairly certain, and a stone with a rune atop it which she was unfamiliar with.

All of this looked at when she had a moment, often overlooking the battlefield where the orcs still fought on, despite the display of their leader, Tusk, hanging from the battlements. It was effective in riling up the remaining horde… which may have been frightening to the untrained combatants, but Durkik knew what he was doing. It made them all the more uncoordinated, and easy for tactical maneuvers to counter their might, especially within this fortress. Today however, Haaliryl noticed another figure, cloaked in black, almost translucent, overlooking the battlefield, not 20 feet away from her. Face obscured from a hood pulled up over the female figure’s form… and black-feathers decorating much of the cloak’s edges and shoulders. Raven feathers, at Haaliryl’s judgement.



”OODM” Alright, feel free to RP and get back into it. I gotta work out XP for that encounter, but well done everyone! Let’s see if we can’t get back on track with this!

 
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Moving week of Oct 21st. Expect delays, sorry for inconvenience, NPC me if you must to keep games going! Will post when I can!
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  #1017  
Old 12-07-2019, 05:47 PM
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Dantas spun around to face the next orc in line, only to find himself and his magical pups surrounded by a small pile of orcish bodies. Just like that, the battle was over. His brother's blade hung limply in his hand as he waded past the stack of bloodied limbs to follow the others up and out of the Nexus. The morning sunlight and frosty mountain air did nothing to pull the young noble out of his stupor. The weight of what their accomplishment had cost bore down on him. Combined with the disappearance of the potion's revitalizing effects, he was close to collapsing before he even reached the top.

He stood in the mountain air, bruised, bloody, and surrounded by his friends. Through heavy eyes, he saw Callinas, Rowan, and Megan alongside the rest of the free-riders. "We did it" he whispered to Moonbrook and Haaliryl. It was over. He smiled blearily, then collapsed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Dantas had floated in and out of consciousness for the two days since emerging from the Nexus. He spent most of his waking hours staring out the window of his room high above Bordrin's Watch, alone with his thoughts. The loss of his eldest brother was a lead weight in his chest, pinning him to the bed with more insistence than any injury. He mourned him quietly, imagining all the ways they could have saved Zakar. If only the Sakura Company could have been a second faster. He knew it was no use torturing himself, and yet he did.

It was worse when he slept. He saw his eldest brother's body being torn asunder again and again. Only this time, it wasn't the stinking troll. It was Tusk slashing him in two. Ripping him in half. It was Myrissa, sinking her fangs into his neck. Zakar, calling for help as the blood vanished from his veins. Stormbringer, broken at his feet.

More times than he could count, Dantas awoke in a sweaty tangle of sheets, crying out and reaching for the Rocannon sword. It was never far from sight. It was all he had for company as he recovered: the blade and the two mastiffs who had proven their loyalty in the underground gauntlet.

"Come in," he said at the knock on the door. He hadn't seen any of his companions since they escaped the Nexus. They all had healing to do. He expected the person coming around the corner to be Agnes or Moonbrook. Instead, it was his uncle.

Dantas pushed himself up in bed, forcing the mastiff who was forming a puddle of drool on his side to readjust. He reached for the other one where it sat beside the bed, scratching lightly beneath an ear. "Uncle," was all he could get out for a time, staring at his estranged relative.

Dantas let his cheek fall against Hallal's rough hand where a small streak of tears landed warm and salty. "He's dead," Dantas repeated as if that's all there was to say.

When he would recount the story later, he would skim over the gory details. His family needn't know everything. The sick thwap of the body hitting the floor. That bloody scraps were all that was left of his body. The smell of troll stink that he would forever associate with his brother's death.

Let everyone think his brother had died a hero, amid a thousand orc corpses. Let him be buried beneath Overlook, guarding the ancient underground pass. Songs would be sung in his honor, fearless in the face of overwhelming force. The world didn't need to know everything.

His uncle, though? His father's brother, traitor to the Rocannon line? Him, he told everything.
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