#76
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Rather than attacking, the priest decides to bolster them with words of courage, or to some what might sound like a prayer. "Bolster them with your blessing. Guide their weapons to strike true! Hinder their enemies. Let their enemies' weapons fall astray!" Last edited by Yves; Oct 17th, 2012 at 01:16 AM. |
#77
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A surge of bolstering energy seems to dance about inside Bofgar's body down to the very sinew, giving his heavy hands a strange lightness and his mind a sharp focus... (which normally may have been broken by the young minstrel's fall to an unfortunate mis-fire.)
A most gracious blessing! And for a righteous cause at that. The long bearded wizard had made quick work of the gnoll with dazzling spellwork, so he turned his rage towards the surprisingly deft, dagger throwing ogre. Letting out a deep dwarven bellow. "AAAAAAGGGGHHGAAAAAAAH" Bofgar takes a sidelong swing this time, and the blow sinks firmly into the vile ogre's frame, his axe heralding it's arrival with a satisfying crunch. |
#78
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Serlehne swivels his upper body to the side as the dagger flies toward him.
No time to dodge it. Swing to the side, minimize the damage... The blade plunges - tip first -into the elf's left bicep. Stay calm. The muscle is not severed. Armor took most of the speed out of it. Gritting his teeth and cursing in the goblin tongue, Serlehne slides the dagger from his arm leaving raw muscle and tissue exposed. Looks worse than it is... sew it up and it will heal in a few days. Serlehne pockets his dagger and draws Anxiety, his longsword... CRUNCH! goes Bogfar's axe into the ogre... splattering blood all around the Tavern. Why don't my people get on with dwarves? Who could not appreciate an architect of pain such as this! Serlehne takes a few seconds to asses what is left to kill...
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Irongate Foghorn, Second son of Clan Ironforge Profile ~+~ Serlehne Grimdaar, Rejected Son of Willowthrone Profile Last edited by tealcisgod; Oct 17th, 2012 at 11:57 AM. |
#79
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Haldir moved quickly, slashing his longsword at the nearest Ogre.
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#80
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After reflecting on the carnage wrought by his Holy Avenger, the compulsive Crusader calls upon his god to bestow his Prayerblessings unto his comrades in arms. Feeling the exquisite rush flow through his body, Eirik is humbled each time by his deities' presence, and being able to share his passion with others brings out a mirth in the sober knight which is rarely seen.
Feeling his brethrens' divine power harmonize with Kildren's own, the devout dwarf couldn't help to to finish what he started, and gave his attacker another smack with his hammer. Unfortunately, it was only a 4 pts.glancing blow, which the would-be giant shook off with uncanny speed. Seeing red-eyed rage boil up from within the Ogre, Kildren tries his best to recover from his swing and roll away from a heavy 2 pts nonleathal (unarmed) dmg.punch, but is unable to get out of it's giant reach. The cleric takes it square in the jaw and eats some floor. The stench is almost as bad as their breath. Kildren looks up to the marauding ogre, and starts to scramble out from under it's oncoming massively booted foot when the other dwarf in this little party lets him have what-for with his mighty glaive, nearly shearing the hominid through. Haldir is summarily impressed with his dazzling array of colorful confusion, and takes advantage of the situation by going at the ogre distracted by the rouge. He manages a 7 pts.grazing slash across the coward's arm, which serves little aside from enraging the beast, diverting it's attention onto himself. Luckily for the half-elf, his lover's scorn is nothing he's met before, which she demonstrates enthusiastically by unleashing another bolt of tightly wound electricity at the creature with her magnificent wand, burning a gaping hole into it's side and tossing it far across the barroom, where it convulses weirdly. Master Mizzyrm recovers his wits somewhat from his blindedness, and pulls an evil-looking dirk from his boot, which he promptly stabs into the leg of the unconscious ogre beneath him. Even without having eyesight, striking an unarmed figure lying prone is a rather simple task, and Mu succeeds with ease. The wicked blade erupts with a greenish veil, sprouting from where the dirk bites into the ogre to travel up Mu's arm with a pulsing, writhing force. The ogre snaps out of it's slumber with a horrified shriek befitting of a small child and grabs at it's leg with a stark reaction to the lizardman's groping. After spending a few minutes lying beneath the amputated arm of the original attacker, the crazy OldMan finally manages to slough the ogre's limb off from his throat, which was still squeezing - even after being severed! Finally able to draw breath, the greybeard's first sight is Thjiom, the beholderkin, trying to help the poor old fool to his feet. Still not in complete control of his faculties, Zif panics and tries to get a spell off. "Ffffffeir-th-erball!" is what you think he might've said before the room was explosively filled with chicken feathers. Millions of white chicken feathers just pop into existence, centered on Thjiom, to immediately blanket every inch of the room. Despite the absurdity at the thought of it, what with their soft composition and lightweightedness, the sheer volume and unbelievable speed of the explosion has the potential to knock you off your feet. This might have been almost comical on another day, but really all it did today was wake the gnoll. Last edited by Split; Oct 19th, 2012 at 02:07 AM. |
#81
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Serlehne tries to
Dice Roll:
Fortunately, the years he spent sneaking around dungeons and climbing walls had given Serlehne tough calf muscles and bolstered his natural elven sense of balance. Serlehne then brings his longswordAnxiety swooping down upon the gnoll as it tries to stand.
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Irongate Foghorn, Second son of Clan Ironforge Profile ~+~ Serlehne Grimdaar, Rejected Son of Willowthrone Profile Last edited by tealcisgod; Oct 19th, 2012 at 07:19 AM. |
#82
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Now that he has strengthened all of his allies and there is only one enemy left, Eirik decides that weakening the enemy is the prudent choice. Before he can chant his spell, an explosion of feathers nearly knocks him head over heels...which seemed to be happening a lot today. After barely regaining his balance he resumes his chant. "May bad fortune fall upon you." As he completes this phrase a dark energy coils around his left arm gathering in a swirl of purplish black in his palm. He reaches his hand to the gnoll and merely rests it on the gnoll's person. Upon contact, the dark energy travels from his hand to the gnoll's entire body.
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#83
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Bofgar was elated in bringing down the ogre, just as he was beginning to wonder what the other bar patron's might be thinking (It was becoming more of a slaughter than a fight). A radial explosion of feather's seemingly bursts outward from Zif's vicinity. Beginning to expect the unexpected from him, the moment Zif declared "Ffffffeir-th-erball!" Bofgar was ready, dodging the oncoming feathers with an uncharacteristic feline grace, perhaps if one could see him through the thick of it he could have been seen as dancing through them.
Prancing on his forefeet, he made his way over to where the remaining ogre had been violently awoken. It would be looking for an exacting revenge, and it was Bofgar's intent to see that rage quelled by his axe. He deliver's his vicious attack, not letting the guilt of destruction waver his resolve. An enemy of a friend is an enemy, and the blood of my enemy's will flow. It surely did. |
#84
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Haldir steadied himself.
"You want to give it up, friend? Before your fate is the same as these?" he said to the last ogre as he moved towards him with his sword at the ready. He was surprised at how efficiently the ogres were dispatched. Some serious firepower in the pub tonight, no doubt. He made a mental note about them. His attention suddenly turned to the Old Man as he heard what he thought was the word "fireball" being spoken, and just as he was about to screen "NO" a blast of feathers almost blew him off his feet. Wild Mage. Great "Keep that wild magic in check in here! You'll kill us all!" he blasted towards the mage. |
#85
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Being back from the action again Kildren would shift his eyes between the standing Gnoll and the now awaken Ogre. He was debating on which to attack. Eyeing those around the Ogre he knew the best logical target was the Gnoll. Releasing his hammer with quick throw he would yell "In the name of Tyr I shall strike you down!" A smile would befit his face as he heard the his hammer connect with the Gnoll's body. Upon the return of his hammer he was now watching both those fighting the Gnoll and those fighting the Ogre.
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#86
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Serlehne regains his composure quickly, and unleashed the fury of his anxiety down onto the Gnoll, laying it low.
Eirik sees the creature try to rise once again, and calls upon the power of his deity to curse the beast. Again proving the gods have an ironic sense of humor, the gnoll begins to transform rapidly from a ratman to a snake. The prey becomes the predator, sort of. Lankish arms and legs go atrophic, and begin to draw in. Fur falls to the floor in large tufts as scales sprout from it's hide and sporadically cover it's writhing form. If you remain unsure if the transformation was as painful as it looked, the Flind gone Snake lets loose a scream to rival the Nine Hells. Bofgar, looking every bit the misplaced hero as he shrugged off the effects of the explosion of feathers, eyed the final ogre to live snap awake at the OldMan's ruckus. Giving his polearm a wicked double-thrust, he made sure the not-so giant wouldn't be bothering anyone anytime soon. So when the beast tried to regain his feet, and his opponent, Haldir intervened with his sword drawn across it's face, as it was lying on it's arse. "You want to give it up, friend? Before your fate is the same as these?" Seeing that it's comrades were dead, or worse as it spies the gnoll-gone-snake, the brute raises it's arms in the sign of surrender. Watching the terrible sight of the ratman transform to a twisted reptile was just too much for Kildren. Quickly, he puts an end to the abhorrence's misery for us all with a derisive throw of his trusty hammer. "In the name of Tyr I shall strike you down!" Vindara was held agape by the graphic scene, and when released from her morbid fascination she lets out a sharp explicative, " oh, Thank the Gods!" she appears rather weakened and somewhat ill from the encounter; "Xhilhilnisc! Thjiom! get your useless arses out here and clean up this..." she's gesturing offhandedly at the carnage, and most specifically at the half rat, half snake creature,... mess!" Already Mu has begun to regain his sight, and his ferocious flailing is calming down to a moderate panic. His friend, the Beholderkin and the Mycodnid have begun to drag the dead ogres out the front door, maybe to rid them in some alley somewhere... who know with this crazy place. the remaining Ogre, badly injured and looking rather dejected, slinks towards the door while trying to escape any further trouble. Vindara seems to be regaining her composure and begins to make her condolences for the raucous scene, most pointedly to her darling Spellsword. The Oldman can be seen standing amongst a venerable mountain of chicken feathers, looking befuddled as ever, and sputters in between feathers, "My Boy! Well Done! Nowthen, where.. has....have any of you seen my Hat?" he mumbles off to himself as he stomps around the room, kicking a swath of chicken feathers all bout. You'd think the OldMan didn't even notice he came within a witch's hair of dying just a few moments ago. Last edited by Split; Oct 25th, 2012 at 01:51 AM. |
#87
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Haldir surveys the carnage. He moves over to Vindara to help steady her. "It will be fine, just a slight inconvenience for the night. What can I do to help get this taken care of?" he asked her, trying to convey his concern for her along with the establishment which he had just helped make a major mess out of.
He let out a sigh. Not the night I was expecting...not anywhere close he thought to himself. |
#88
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Bofgar had nearly committed to striking the final ogre down, and lost his balance redirecting his swing when it wisely surrendered. He was impressed that the elf stepped up with the moral substance to try to end things more peacefully. He made a mental note to try the same given another opportunity, the problem being once he got heated in battle he was often difficult to wind down. His blood would be pumping the entire night through.
Bofgar ended up looking around for the wizards hat without success. The man's helplessness was a strange form of motivation. But there were more important things to be doing, and he found an abandoned pitcher of ale with only a few feathers; which ended up decorating his beard. He thanks Haldir for his leadership and then proceeds to help the Misty beard's employment dispose of the mess they had procured. In actuality he was worried about Sam and used the opportunity to leave as an excuse to check up on his friend. |
#89
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Eye the carnage about the room he was baffled that everyone was over-looking the poor sap that was hit by one of Lady Vindara's spells. Kildren would start going off in his native tongue.
He would look about the room taking note of the ones cleaning up the mess, he would forgive them in a sense as they were busy taking care of the dead monsters. Eyeing the other priest in the room Kildren would call over to him for help. "Help me drag this poor sap outside so I can bury him, poor bloke was in the wrong place at the wrong time." |
#90
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Serlehne searches the gnoll's body for trinkets, tchotchkes or interesting bits of text that he can steal...
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