[Game Thread] Meseriel's Game (Part 1)

[Chchazz88]

Meseriel says nothing. She merely breaks into a run towards the closest one and attempts to kill him. Where she was from, these men would have been brought to painful justice long before they ever found the chance to commit such an atrocity as this.

She swung down at his neck to see if he had even the slightest bit of combat training. If not, he'd likely die, though he might hope to merely lose his arm.

Dice Attack Roll:

1d20+6

(10)+6

Total = 16

(16)

Dice Damage Roll:

1d6+3

(4)+3

Total = 7

(7)

---

Stat Block
AC: 21, To: 13, FF: 18
HP: 22, Fire resistance 5
CMD: 18
Speed: 20ft
Condition: PISSED

 

Othorian Autumns leaves drift through the crisp air, coloring the sunlight into hues of orange and red. -and he just thrust again - like I knew he would - but I used the parry you taught me and his blade flew clear off the cliff and landed on Ronorian walking home over the western hill! A pair of young voices laugh, their happiness and warmth resonating through the earthy soil beneath their shoeless feet. Think, had it been steel he'd have been much angrier. Had it been steel, he'd have lost a leg! As it was, he limped for a week, groaning and mumbling. The birds chirp and flit from branch to branch, frolicking in the vivid colors. I don't know, I've seen your parry. ... And? ... It's nothing special. The young woman tackles her male counterpart and they roll down into a babbling creek, laughing and tangled in one anothers arms. The playful roughousing suddenly turns to severe grappling as she puts him in a half nelson and flips him over. At first glance, they seem to be no more than two scantily clad elves in the forest, but upon closer inspection, one might find they are covered in bruises, burns, and healed gashes. These two are warriors, to be sure. The wrestling suddenly fades again and they lie in one another's arms, laughing. As their chests slow, they find one anothers eyes and linger for a long time, head on the leaves and legs in the creek. Meseriel... I've taught you everything I know. You can learn no more from me. You are as able a warrior as I could ever make you. You must seek a new tutor. I know. I'm better than you at swordplay already. He laughs and says, I'll show you swordplay, as he grabs her by the shoulders and attempts to put her in a hold, however her knee whips up and pushes against his abdomen, stalling his advances. Grunting, he attempts to roll to the side when suddenly she leans forward and their lips touch. In a sudden embrace of passion, they are swept through the leaves and into love itself.

[Spazztick]

Ahhhhhhh!!!!! The sounds of clanking armor draws the attention of both the would be bandits, as eyes go wide in terror of the armored monster that stored their way. The man in the leather armor, who had just delivered another kick against the poor unarmed man on the ground, tries to react but has no time, for she was already upon him. His hand instinctively goes up, as the sword comes down, losing two fingers and sustaining a severe gash across the base of his neck. He stumbles back with a cry of protest, as blood pours down his chest. "Ahhhggh!!" He doesn't seem to be able to articulate any words and the other man just stands there with a dumbfounded look on his face, mouth drooped open and eyes wide. The man on the ground, simply stays curled in a ball, though now he's got blood other than his own upon him.

 

Initiative Please.
Bandit 1(Armored): Initiative:

Dice Initiative:

1d20+1

(18)+1

Total = 19

(19)
Bandit 2(Unarmored): Initiative:

Dice Initiative:

1d20+3

(4)+3

Total = 7

(7)

Enemy	Lowest AC hit	Damage Taken	Visible Weapons	Conditions	Known Buffs	Position
Bandit 1(Armored)	16	7	Short Sword	Injured	None	Adjacent
Bandit 2(Unarmored)	??	0	Light, Mace	Normal	None	15' away

If you beat both of their initiatives, feel free to make your next action.

---

I'll be fine tuning how I do combat, with revealing only very few rolls at this time. This may change if requested, though I ask you give my method a shot before we making any determinations. Constructive criticism is welcome.

I will reveal information in combat as you go about the combat.
(With proper knowledge checks, maybe perception checks, you could reveal a bit more information, or miss some information.)

Question: For the purpose of abilities that require a save, Would you prefer that I roll them for you during my turn, or you can roll them yourself?
Question: Would you prefer to do your rolls within the posts, or would you like me to make a separate dice rolling thread, which you can use for appropriate rolls/initiative/saves, that don't necessarily require you to make an entire post for.

That's all for now, if I think of something else to ask, I'll let you know. IF you have any questions feel free to ask.

[Chchazz88]

OOC Right. I knew I was forgetting something. Dice Initiative: 1d20+3 (19)+3 Total = 22 (22)

Meseriel growls, "Drop your weapons now and get on the ground with your hands behind your backs."

Dice Intimidate:

1d20+3

(8)+3

Total = 11

I'm also taking full defensive as I do this.

[Spazztick]

 

If you didn't check, I've added much more in the last spoiler button of the previous post. Unfortunately for these two louts, I gave them each a will save to determine if they surrendered on the spot and the both seem rather determined. I'm going to need an Intimidate roll to change the matter. The one you injured will be taking a penalty for certain.

[Chchazz88]

OOC There ya go. To answer your questions, I don't think we need another thread and I think the way you're doing it right now is fine.

[Spazztick]

Is surrender ever really an option... I mean really? With a distraught look on his face, fury and pain taking over, he decides to test his luck and tries to fight. Despite being hopelessly outmatched, he flies off the deep end, drawing his sword and trying to skewer the one who mangled up his hand. "Ahhgh! Like hell you bitch!" He goes for her throat, stabbing with his shoddy weapon in hopes to bypass her armor. His attack is deflected like trying to puncture steel with a feather, completely hopeless. He lets out another howl of frustration and rears back to swing again. The other bandit with the mace, just stands there shaking his head, unsure of what to do.

Your action

[Chchazz88]

Meseriel steels herself and swings to behead the armored one. If he could see her face, he'd recognize a single tear rolling down her chin, but alas he was granted no more than the cold steel visage. The least she could offer was a swift death. The other had still not yet attacked, however he also hadn't dropped his weapon. Perhaps he was waiting to see whether his companion would get lucky.

Dice Attack Roll:

1d20+6

(19)+6

Total = 25

(25)

Dice * Crit Confirm (Shortsword):

1d20+6

(8)+6

Total = 14

(14)

Dice Damage Roll:

1d6+3

(4)+3

Total = 7

(7)

---

Stat Block
AC: 21, To: 13, FF: 18
HP: 22, Fire resistance 5
CMD: 18
Speed: 20ft
Condition: PISSED

Warning: rolls have been deleted from this post.

[Spazztick]

...let it roll. Meseriel knocks his strike away, lets him try again and bats that hit away with ease. It was like knocking away the hand of a child. Sometimes the only option is a swift death, it seemed that this deranged man had chosen his fate. With speed and grace, the armored elf swings her shortsword outward, severing the man's head from his shoulders, cutting through his flesh, like a knife through butter. His head tumbles forward, hitting the ground and rolling a short distance away, eyes wide, dirt filled and lifeless. A clanking sound can be heard, as the other drops his mace and just stands there openly crying. The expanding wet spot on his pants, shows that he'd also pissed himself in fear. His mind was screaming at him to run, but all he could do was stand there and shake, watching his friends head roll into it's position. Who knows what history they had, if they'd grown up together, just happened onto a life of criminal activity together or whatever else. The only truth this day was, that their actions had finally come to have consequences and for the headless one, the consequences were quite permanent. After a moment of standing there, he picks up the birdhouse, sets it upright in front of him and flees into the woods. On the ground the smaller man sits up, wiping the tears from his face with one hand and holding his stomach with the other. His bright blue eyes show a look of concern and relief, as he stares blankly at Meseriel. He mutters some words in common, very faint and hardly audible. "Thank you..."

[Chchazz88]

Meseriel sheathes her sword and approaches him, offering a hand to help him up.
"Tis my civic duty to slay the unjust."
As he stands, she looks around at the destruction.
"Take what you will from him as compensation, though I suggest keeping the mace. If you were armed, people like that would more than likely leave you alone."
Once more drawing her sword, she stabs it into the ground to cleanse if of blood and then wipes the residual dirt away with the thumb of her glove before sheathing it again.

[Spazztick]

Kil Valmer The man slowly climbs to his feet, groaning as he does so, looking at the body of the fallen. He then looks to the armored woman, giving her a questioning look. "Really? I mean that sword will probably fetch me more money than my entire haul put together... " He clears his throat, and pulls his hair back, before walking over to the broken remains of a stringed instrument. He shakes his head from side to side. "Ah dammit. It's beyond repair." He mumbles to himself, walks over and picks up the mace, giving it a few swings to test it's weight. He then turns back to Meseriel. "The name's Kil, Kil Valmer. You have done me a great deed, and I am quite in your debt. I was just on my way to Davinport, if you're not in to much of a hurry, I'd love to buy you a drink, I know a excellent tavern on the outer city, the owner doesn't put up with hooligans and vagabonds, so it might be just the place for you to not have to fulfill your civic duty. Though hell, maybe now that I've got this mace, I could risk going to the more rugged areas yeah?" He lets out a chuckle at his own jest, though quickly stops when he realizes the pain. Kil kneels near the body of the headless man, unbuckling the scabbard, sheathing the blade and throwing it over his shoulder. He then starts rummaging through his pockets and finding a substantial amount of coin. Nearly ten gold in assorted coins as well as a few pieces of jewelry, a fine looking silver amulet with a green inlaid gem and a golden bracelet. Kill stands up in awe, shaking his head what he has in his hands. It was likely all worth more money than he'd ever held at once. "Wow... there's no way I can take all this, you've got to take something. I mean and that's not even after selling off this sword." He holds out his hands, offering for her to take anything she'd wish.

[Chchazz88]

"I cannot, for I have earned payment only in your eyes, not in that of the law. Should I seek compensation, it would be with one of the officers of the town up ahead. For now, since I do not know the laws of your land, I have differed to my own judgement of what is fair. I will, however, journey with you into town, though I doubt I'll like anything they have to drink." She offered, by way of explanation.

[Spazztick]

Davinport Bound Kil shakes his head in surprise, then shoves the coins away in a pocket, examining the necklace a moment before talking. "You know my lady to be will love this, so thanks again." He pockets the jewelry as well, gathers the things he has on the ground, fills his backpack and heads for the trail to start down the path, leaving behind a path of debris from about four broken birdhouses. "They're actually Bathouses you know, can tell from the opening at the top... keep the bugs down around the taverns, less mosquito bites and all that. He says randomly, just sharing the information." Now armed and hardly dangerous, Kil walks more confidently near the woman who saved his life. Despite the pain, he seemed to be in quite a chatty mood, perhaps it was a way to handle his nervousness of the situation before, or perhaps he was just a friendly guy. "I don't think you'll be getting any compensation from the law keepers at Davinport, doubt those petty... strong crooks didn't have much of a reputation. Generally speaking it's been to the victor goes the spoils, since you saved my hide, you should've taken your just reward, but I suppose that's being used to the type of folks that live in Davinport these days." They travel for the rest of the distance, passing only a few people on their way into the outskirts of town. Now that they've cleared the treeline, Mesereil can see the size of the city. It's far more vast now that she can see it up close, the multiple stories on various buildings, adjourning walkways and ramps leading to the various levels. The thicker of the buildings are closer to the dock, and it seems obvious to one with a keen eye, that they started building near the coast and worked their way outward. Where Kil takes her is just inside the first batch of buildings, curving along a road to circle the south side of the city. Despite being on the outskirts of the town, there's still quite a commotion of people, food carts and vendor stalls scattered about between buildings. It takes them about ten minutes of casual walking, before the Gypsy's Tail is in sight. They gained only a few odd looks from strangers, all of which are directed towards the armored woman. It's apparent that it's not a huge ordeal, as they return to their tasks without second glance, though the same could not be said for the few city guards they pass, as they tend to linger their gaze. Kil assures her it's commonplace, and more or less their duty, to eyeball new folk in the area. Kil stops off at a small arms dealer, who has mostly crossbows and daggers, but finds selling the shortsword to be easy work. He pockets a handful of silver coins, totaling up to a few gold pieces and finish the trek to the tavern. "...and here we are. The Gypsy's Tail." He pushes open the single door, letting them into the nearly empty tavern. A few random folks sit in various places, but most of the seating and all of the seats at the bar are empty. "Yuri, you old bat how goes it!" An old man turns from the bar, a well worn hat with a bill in his face. He strokes his beard and laughs. "Oh Kil, good to see you... come on over." He beckons him to the bar and the blonde haired man obliges. "Come to play some music for us lad? You know the few that still come here, rather enjoy your tunes." "Oh no, sadly my instrument was broken today, will need to fetch a new one before I can do that, sorry old man. I actually came to buy this valiant one here a drink, for if it was not for... her." He almost says questioningly, though he thinks is correct from hearing her voice. "...as she saved my life early, couple of no good thugs decided to mug me on the way into town." Several more words were exchanged, the old man in shock of the whole situation. Details of her heroics were mentioned and it even drew a look from one of the randoms at the table. "Damn thugs, it's getting worse and worse, I've half a mind to pack up shop and move to Ten Hills with the actions of late. Glad you're well. He turns to focus on Mesareil. Well a friend of Kil's is a friend of mine. Drinks are on me tonight." He goes for a bulk of black cloth and uncovers a small keg off the back wall. "This is OOC: This is actually made by Dwarven Bee Keepers and brewers... but shhhhHearthfire Mead, I bought it from one of the houses in Tul'cadre, very expensive and probably the best mead you'll ever taste in your life, the honey and hops complement each other on a level I've never seen. I only ever tap it for special occasions, and saving the life of a friend is more than one." He pours the three of them a mug, the beautiful amber color apparent as it pours, topping with light white froth.

[Chchazz88]

Weighing in her head the danger versus the benefit, the Hearthfire Mead wins out and Meseriel takes off her helmet, revealing her scarred, yet still angular face, serious eyes, short brown hair, and most importantly her pointed ears. Before anyone can say anything, she grabs the cup and begins gulping it down.

[Spazztick]

Divinity in a cup. Whatever one may say about generalization of mead and ale, they will never say about the Hearthfire Mead. Not only did it live up to the old man's boasts, it surpasses them in spades. While it is certainly not going to change a wine preference to an ale preference, it will do a damn good try at it. Perhaps Meseriel would've enjoyed it even more, had not Kil and Yuri both been standing there in silence, mugs up to their lips, unmoving. An eyebrow raised from Yuri as he watches the elf woman drain the cup in a long thirst filled chug. She wipes the froth from her mouth and sets the cup down. She could feel all eyes upon her, almost certain each person in the tavern was staring at her. The tension become quite real, as each second seems to last for minutes, before Yuri finally breaks the silence. "...And she can drink. Hot damn. Put Kil to shame that much is certain." He scratches at the back of his head, curiosity getting the best of him. "So, where are from m'lady? I must say haven't seen a soul of your culture up this part, and we get quite the variety folks coming from the docks, I must say." It seems that if the mans mind was screaming elf, he did not say anything of it. "She's from the south, far south I think.. past Tul'cadré, maybe past Tul'xander even..." He cuts himself off before speaking further, then turns to Meseriel. "Sorry, I'm certain you can speak for yourself." He flashes her a wry smile, then turns back to sipping his mead. Praising complements about the unique taste and thanks for finding a way to make his day brighter, stating if all it took was to get mugged to drink such, he'd make it a daily occurrence. None of the other patrons get up to leave, but instead just remain seated sipping at whatever drinks they have. The old man refills Meseriel's mug and they continue on completely ignoring the dragon in the room.

 

Perception Please. (And a sense motive if you wish.)

[Chchazz88]

She smiles when Yuri speaks.
"Of my culture, hmm? You mean an elf. My kind certainly don't seem common around here, judging by your expressions. I am indeed from the deep south. My people are the Tothkin, though I doubt that means much to either of you."

Dice Perception Check:

1d20

12

(12)

Dice Sense Motive Check:

1d20+4

(12)+4

Total = 16

(16)