[Game Thread] Group 2 adventure

[Togot]

You have been traveling for three days, but now a city comes into view. High stone walls, a large gate, and dozens of soldiers. “Helgan,” one of your fellow prisoners says. He is a nord with dirty blond hair braided on the left side. He has a short beard and a rugged look to him. his arms are thick and muscled. “I used to be sweet on a girl here. You know, its funny. When I was a boy, imperial walls always made me feel so safe.”

“Damn stormcloaks,” says another man in your wagon, another nord, but of smaller, build than the first. “Skyrim was fine until you came along. If it weren’t for the imperials strengthening security on the border, id have stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell by now.”

“We’re all brothers in binds now, horse thief,” says the first man.

“What’s wrong with him?” the horse thief asks, nodding to another man, another nord. This one is wearing fine clothes, heavy furs with gold rings on his fingers. Unlike the rest of you, he has a gag in his mouth.

“Watch your tongue!” the first man says. “That is Ulfrick Stormcloak, the true high king.”

“Ulfric stormcloak, the jarl of Windhelm? But if they’ve captured him then… Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me!”

Your wagon rolls through the large open gates. You see a man, an imperial in his later years with white hair wearing distinctive armor, sitting on his horse talking to a high elf on his own horse.

“Look at him,” the first man says. “General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this."

The townsfolk gather to the sides of the road to watch as you are paraded through to a tower near the center of town. There, a large man wearing a black mask stands holding a large ax. A block and a basket sit on the ground before you. The wagons come to a halt.

“What’s going on?” the horse thief asks, panic in his voice, “Why are we stopping?”

“Why do you think?” the first man says, “End of the line.”

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" the thief says.

A woman wearing heavy armor stands next to a man holding parchment. The woman looks to you and says, "Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time."
"Empire loves their damn lists." Says the first man.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." Says the man with parchment. The man in fine clothes and a gag walks away from your group towards the ax men.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" says the first man.

"Ralof of Riverwood.”

The first man follows after Ulfric.

“Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" says the horse thief. He begins running up the road towards the town gate.

"Halt!" The heavily armored woman yells, but Lokir does not heed her command. "Archers!" the woman shouts. Two guards draw their bows and shoot Lokir in the back. He drops face first onto the ground and lies still. The woman turns back to your group. "Anyone else feel like running?"

The man with the list looks to your and your friends and frowns. “Wait, who are all of you?”

[girlplay]

Liv pushed her way to the front and addressed the officious-looking soldier. Speaking in Tamrielic, she said boldly: "My name is Liv, of Solitude and House Stendahl. We are nobles in good standing." She presented the back of her hand to show off the signet ring she wore. "I personally believe that my arrest was a little hasty. And while I do not hold that against the fine soldiers who were clearly just trying to do their jobs, I would like the opportunity to discuss the charges against me with your commander and confront my accuser, as is my right. Perhaps we can discuss this after you have concluded your business here." She motioned to the group of 4 Nords and an Orsimer. "These men are in my employ, so they stand with me."

OOC: Should and can I make a persuasion roll?

 

Dice Persuasion:

1d20+5

(7)+5

Total = 12

[Onward]

In the far corner of the wagon lies a black hooded figure with a black face mask. His been hiding there for days, making sure none of the guards see his face. When they near Helgan, the figure mutters in a trembling voice,"Ah, shouldn't have listened to that bloody merchant!" Conrad said, remembering the information Omar, a Khajiit merchant and his only informant, said that he'd find his mentor by talking with Ulfric Stormcloak. Though it was unreliable seeing as he was high on skooma when he said it, but it was the only information he got, he thought. Conrad curse his past self for even thinking that and now his about to meet the executioners axe. He looks toward the ragged and gagged man, Jarl Ulfric, the man he was looking for is also about to die. Things weren't looking so good in Conrad's eyes, and when the man with the list look towards his group and asked who we were, well Conrad was sweating bullets when he stared at them. He hid behind the other nords and hope to the Divines that Liv can convinced them to left them go.

[Shula]

Álfhedil, son of Kjald the Paunch As the thief ran and was shot down like a dog, Álfhedil thought to himself, Fool! No true Nord him. He must have soft-landers blood in him. Ulfric Stormcloak- now he was a true Nord, holding his head up even as he goes to his death. The rogue listened to his jarl's daughter. He also overheard the quiet remark of the one who pronounced his name Konrad as an imperial would. Perhaps he too was of mixed blood. Be that as it may, the statement meant nothing to him so he discounted it. Álfhedil stroked his long red beard while he spoke his own mind as any karl would: "I am Álfhedil, the son of Kjald the Paunch, of Winterhold. And a mighty belly he had, my father. I am húskarlar of Jarl Stendahl of Ther name for the settlement of Solitude.Haafingar. I act as scout for his daughter's party. As have been said, we are wrongfully detained. Are we not citizens of the Empire free to cross the boundries of one dominion to the next. Or are all Nords to be made Thrall- a slave or a serfÞræll for the actions of one jarl and the fools that follow him. If so, bring me to the chopping block as I would rather die a karl than live like a Þræll."

OOC   Álfhedil Human (Nord) Rogue-1 Attributes Str 0 Int 2(4) Dex 4(6) Wis 3 Con 1 Cha 0 Sheet - Dragonish, Giantish, Nordic, Tamrielic(Common), Thieve's Tongue. Other HP 9/9 AC 16(18) PI/PP 14/18 Init +4 Speed 30 Senses Normal None at the moment Sneak Attack 1d6 Skills Flute/dice +2 thieves' tools +2 acrobatics +6 deception +0 animal handling +3 history +2 arcana +2 insight +5 athletics +2 intimidation +0 Skills investigation +4 persuasion +0 medicine +3 religion +2 nature +2 sleight of hand +4 perception +8 stealth +6 performance +0 survival +3     Actions Initiative: Move: Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Active Effect: Status: Contingencies: Notes:

[penbeast0]

Tryggva Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had he ever gotten mixed up with the Stormcloaks? Now he was going to die with his head cut off and Tryggva just knew that he wasn't going to go bravely. He would squeal or run or beg or something and everyone would know him for the coward he had always been. Tryggva closed his eyes and tried to wipe his runny nose with his bound hands. Wait a second, his name wasn't on the list? Didn't Imperials always do everything by the book? Maybe they would get thrown in a cell or something instead? Now this Thane was stepping up to claim them. Was she a Stormcloak too? Tryggva knew that he's been caught; why was she including him in her party? She must want something but whatever she wanted, it had to be better than dying here on the headsman's block. He opened his eyes and tried to straighten up and look like a real soldier to better fit in. He DID have the sense to keep his mouth shut while his betters were talking though. Tryggva's father had whipped that into him even if he couldn't beat him into bravery.

 

Initiative: (+2)
Move: (30)
Action:
Bonus Action:
Reaction:
Notes:

HP: 15 AC: 15
Initiative:+2 Speed:30' Perception: +2
Saving Throws: Str +5 (adv when raged), Dex +3, Con +5, Int +1, Wis +1, Cha +1
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 13, Wis 13, Cha 13

BAD REPUTATION: No matter where you go, people are afraid of you due to your reputation. When you are in a civilized settlement, you can get away with minor criminal offenses, such as refusing to pay for food at a tavern or breaking down doors at a local shop, since most people will not report your activity to the authorities.

GWM FEAT -- On my turn, A critical hit or reduce opp to 0 allows a bonus attack;
can take a -5 to hit to get +10 to damage

RAGE (bonus action) x2 lasts as long as attacking or taking damage (and conscious) / long
gives Adv on STR, +2 damage, resist piercing, slashing, bludgeoning

 

https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=79819

[Draidden]

Fafnord Fafnord watches as they are brought to the city and as the names are read from the list. Ulfirc Stormcloak, so that is the man behind the legend. In another situation I might be inclined to help him out. But that would be unwise now. He shakes his head sadly as the thief runs and is shot in the back. "That is no way to die. Well, look on the bright side. He is free of all his worries and troubles now and finally get some peace." He waits for the others to respond when asked who they are. He cringes a little as the noble lady speaks. Typical of the nobles. Always thinking spouting out the names and lineage will get that out of any jam. When his turn comes he simply backs up what Lady Liv stated. "The lady speaks the truth. I am Fafnord God-helm. I was on my way home when I hired on as her guard. It was on the way and would cover some of the expense of traveling. While I understand these men mistaking us for rebels, I can assure that is not the case and there are no hard feelings. If we could just get our things back we will be on our way and out of your hair. No harm no foul."   Persuasion: 16   Emmeric's Stats Fafnord God-Helm Human Paladin 1 HP: 14/14 | AC 13 | Hit Die: 1/1 STR 19(+4) DEX 16(+3) CON 18(+4) INT 14(+2) WIS 14(+2) CHA 16(+3) Initiative: +3 Weapons: Att: +6, Dmg: 1d4+4Unarmed Features and Abilities: AllArmor Proficiencies | Simple weapons and Martial weaponsWeapon Proficiencies | Land and Water VehiclesTool Proficiencies | The presence of strong evil registers on your senses like a noxious odor, and powerful good rings like heavenly music in your ears. As an action, you can open your awareness to detect such forces. Until the end of your next turn, you know the location of any celestial, fiend, or undead within 60 feet of you that is not behind total cover. You know the type (celestial, fiend, or undead) of any being whose presence you sense, but not its identity (the vampire Count Strahd von Zarovich, for instance). Within the same radius, you also detect the presence of any place or object that has been consecrated or desecrated, as with the hallow spell. You can use this feature a number of times equal to 1 + your Charisma modifier. When you finish a long rest, you regain all expended uses.Divine Sense | 5 hit points per level of PaladinLay on Hands | Tavern Brawler Feat

[Grouchy]

Yashmar gra-Kurbrarkrul The last to step down from the wagon rocks it, and the heavy framed Orsimer surveys the strange scene before him. He is taller than most men you have seen before, and thick of thew and body. His head is shaved bald on the sides with a tight row of braids on the top of his head, and his dark eyes gleam out from underneath a heavy brow. When the man with the list looks at him to identify himself, he steps forward and announces in a loud tone "I am Yashmar gra-Kurbrarkrul. I was not aware the Empire is now kidnapping people just for crossing the border. I am a pilgrim, traveling from Orsinium to the Rift." Which is true, Yashmar reminds himself. He is aware there is a shrine to Malacath in the Rift from one of the books he read before he left his father's stronghold, he just does not know where exactly in the Rift it is.

[girlplay]

Liv crossed her arms and nodded her head to herself. The Imperial bureaucrat had to see reason. The men had, mostly (except for the quiet one), backed up her tale and demands. Surely they would be set free soon. Then they could sort out where their confiscated possessions had gotten to and be on their way. And gold! She had a purse of 25 gold coins to regain - all the money that she had left after paying the men-at-arms. She actually doubted that she could convince them to stay with her or compensate them for all this trouble. But that was on the Imperials for their half-baked laws and procedures.

She gazed with righteous belief at the man and his useless list.

[Togot]

The man looks to the woman in armor. “Captain, what should we do? They’re not on the list.”

The woman looks to you, her features rough, her gaze stern. “Forget the list, they go to the block”

“By your order,” the man says before looking to you. “I’m sorry. At least you’ll die in your homeland.”

You are moved into line with the other prisoners. General Tulius addresses Ulfrick Stormcloak. “Jarl Ulfric. Some here in Helgan call you a hero, but a hero doesn’t use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne. You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the empire is going to put you down and restore the peace.” He then looks to the captain. “Let’s get on with it.”

The female captain nods. “Yes, General Tulius.” She looks to a priestess standing nearby. “Give them their last rights.”

The priestess holds up her hands and says, “As we commend your souls to imperious, blessings of the eight divines upon-“

“For the love of Talos, shut up and get on with it! I don’t have all; day,” one of the stormcloak soldiers says, interrupting the priestess as he marches to the block.

“As you wish,” the priestess says.

The man kneels down and the captain places her foot on his back to hold him there. The executioner raises his axe, brings it down, and cuts the man’s head of with a wet thwack.

“You imperial bastards!” a woman in the crowd cries out.

“Justice!” says a man.

“Death to the stormcloacks,” says another woman.

“Next prisoner,” the captain says.

Another stormcloak kneels before the headsman, but before the blow is struck, all eyes are drawn to the sky as a loud roar is heard on the wind. A great black beast flies onto a nearby tower on two massive wings. Its large head looks like something out of a nightmare. It has large, twisted horns, like a crown of darkness. Its body is covered in sharp spikes and thick plates. It looks down on all of you and then speaks words you do not know. “Jiid So Daan”

The skies darken, and balls of fire fall like rain, causing destruction and death to Helgan. The creature then speaks again. “Fus ro dah!” a shockwaves strickes all of you, knocking you to the ground. When you recover, you are in the midst of chaos. You make out one of the stormcloaks, Ralof, at the entrance of a nearby tower calling to you all to seek shelter as he gestures you over to him.

[Onward]

Conrad Conrad felt downtrodden as he realised theirs no hope of persuasion, this would be their fate. He grew ill as a man gets beheaded at the chopping block, it grew even more so as they take one more step towards it. Then it came, raining fire and chaos across Helgan, a twisted and monstrous beast that to Conrad was death incarnate. As the creature spoke it's strange language, everyone including Conrad was knocked out by an invisible force. When Conrad came too, the first thing he noticed was the chaos and death. All of it made him feel faint, his consciousness blacking out a bit,"No, gotta keep it together. Don't be lost now." he says to himself, then notices the stormcloak calling the group to come to his position. The young boy really wanted to immediately go and forgot about all of this, but didn't want to leave the rest behind,"Hey, everyone stand up quick, I think we can make a safe haven with that stormcloak by the tower." he says, still covering his face with his black attire.

[penbeast0]

Tryggva Oh Gods and Goddesses, we're all going to die. He kept thinking of the feel of the axe biting into his neck. They say it didn't hurt much if there is a clean cut but Tryggva had used an axe too much. It was extremely difficult to cut through a neck in a single blow and sever it cleanly. It was usually more like butchering a pig. The first blow would set the pig screaming and squealing while blood fountained from a deep cut and it twisted and fought against its bindings. The next blows were very difficult as it was moving too much and they rarely hit the same spot so you would hack away 4 of 5 times into the dying animal until it went into shock from blood loss and you could get a good shot at the bloodily butchered carcass. Even then it might take two more blows to sever the head. Tryggva shivered as a trickle of pee ran down his leg. There was a large noise and everyone started shouting at once, but Tryggva ignored it, lost in his misery. Then the world exploded in fireballs crashing all around him. He looked up just in time to see a dragon, just like the storybooks, and then he was knocked backward off his feet to crash into the bound prisoner standing behind him. He would have gawked in awe but through the confusion, he heard the little prisoner say the Stormcloaks had taken a tower. Surely they would save him. That was maybe the only thing that could have cut through Tryggva's miasma of fear and shame. Escape! He clumsily pushed himself to his feet, knocking down the same prisoner again who was also trying to stand. "Um, sorry," he mumbled, finally gaining his balance and starting running with the other prisoners toward the tower where one of the other prisoners was beckoning. His hands still tied, Tryggva almost fell again as another fireball crashed just to his left but stumbled on, hitting the wall with a dull thud then pushing aside the smaller prisoners crowding the doorway to get inside.

 

Initiative: (+2)
Move: (30)
Action:
Bonus Action:
Reaction:
Notes:

HP: 15 AC: 15
Initiative:+2 Speed:30' Perception: +2
Saving Throws: Str +5 (adv when raged), Dex +3, Con +5, Int +1, Wis +1, Cha +1
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 13, Wis 13, Cha 13

BAD REPUTATION: No matter where you go, people are afraid of you due to your reputation. When you are in a civilized settlement, you can get away with minor criminal offenses, such as refusing to pay for food at a tavern or breaking down doors at a local shop, since most people will not report your activity to the authorities.

GWM FEAT -- On my turn, A critical hit or reduce opp to 0 allows a bonus attack;
can take a -5 to hit to get +10 to damage

RAGE (bonus action) x2 lasts as long as attacking or taking damage (and conscious) / long
gives Adv on STR, +2 damage, resist piercing, slashing, bludgeoning

 

https://www.rpgcrossing.com/profiler/view.php?id=79819

[Draidden]

Fafnord Lots of thoughts run through Fafnord's head when the Imperials decide to add them to the list of those they will behead. He stands tall, refusing to let them see any fear. He watches as the first has his head removed and the next walks to the block. In a loud voice he calls out, "And this is why the Stormcloaks have such a strong following. You grab any passerby and toss them into line to remove their heads for crimes they have not committed. May Kyre and Turn and all the TRUE GODS rain their wrath down upon you!" Just as he is about to get a fist to the gut to shut him up, there is a loud roar and the biggest dragon Fafnord has ever seen lands on a tower, speaks and fire falls from the sky. To be fair, he has never seen a dragon before so it is obviously the biggest. Then it speaks that strange language that sends shivers down Fafnord's spine, and a blast of force knocks him and everyone else off their feet. He rolls to his feet as quickly as he can, spotting Lady Liv next to him and the Stormcloak motioning to another tower entrance. He reaches down and bodily lifts Liv back to her feet, points to the door and yells, "Run"! He glances around looking for others who need help and for any weapons that have been dropped as he starts moving towards the doorway, following Liv. He stays close to her as he has been hired to protect her and his job is not done yet. He laughs as he moves. Once in the tower he takes up a position next to the door. He glances up. "And there you have the power of Kyre and Trun. I prayed for some help to avoid the headsman's axe and they use a dragon to achieve their goals!"   Perception: 11 to spot some lose weapons he could grab.   Emmeric's Stats Fafnord God-Helm Human Paladin 1 HP: 14/14 | AC 13 | Hit Die: 1/1 STR 19(+4) DEX 16(+3) CON 18(+4) INT 14(+2) WIS 14(+2) CHA 16(+3) Initiative: +3 Weapons: Att: +6, Dmg: 1d4+4Unarmed Features and Abilities: AllArmor Proficiencies | Simple weapons and Martial weaponsWeapon Proficiencies | Land and Water VehiclesTool Proficiencies | The presence of strong evil registers on your senses like a noxious odor, and powerful good rings like heavenly music in your ears. As an action, you can open your awareness to detect such forces. Until the end of your next turn, you know the location of any celestial, fiend, or undead within 60 feet of you that is not behind total cover. You know the type (celestial, fiend, or undead) of any being whose presence you sense, but not its identity (the vampire Count Strahd von Zarovich, for instance). Within the same radius, you also detect the presence of any place or object that has been consecrated or desecrated, as with the hallow spell. You can use this feature a number of times equal to 1 + your Charisma modifier. When you finish a long rest, you regain all expended uses.Divine Sense | 5 hit points per level of PaladinLay on Hands | Tavern Brawler Feat

[girlplay]

Liv, please live! Liv stood stunned for a moment, staring at the Imperial officer who just casually decided that she and the men should be killed. "What?!" she exclaimed at the Imperial woman. "How can that be your decision? This isn't justice. How can you condemn me to death without any... due process? So, it's true. The Empire doesn't stand for law and order; it just does whatever it wants. Cruel invaders who-" And then the sky clouded over and fire fell upon them and all manner of chaos broke out. A wave of thunder hit Liv, knocking her off her feat. Yet as she struggled to understand what even happened as she look up into the face of an enormous dragon - for what else could it be? - she found herself hoisted back on her feet again. Amongst the cacophony of screams, buildings bursting into flames, and the shouts of soldiers and prisoners alike, Fafnord was near telling her to run. And another man was ushering her towards him. It was a direction. She couldn't make any other sense of where to go in all this. So, she ran! Liv heard loud screaming nearby and was thankful it wasn't her. Instead, it was a man literally on fire. She could be next, though she wanted to stop and help. Still, her legs carried her on and into the door of a tower. Still stunned by what was transpiring, she dared a peak back outside. "That's a dragon! A real, big-as-you-please dragon!" she exclaimed in awe.

[Grouchy]

Yashmar gra-Kurbrarkrul As the mighty beast lands on the tower, Yashmar is overcome quickly by emotions. He is at first shocked and in awe, and he can barely believe what he is seeing. A dragon! A creature of myth! Supposedly long dead, yet here one is now, right in front of him! And here he is, bound and helpless, unable to even die a good death as any proper Orc male should. Yashmar barely has enough time to curse his bad luck before the creature lets out a mighty shout. Even the solid Orsimer is knocked onto his backside from the force emitted from the dragon, and his ears ring as he tries to make out what is happening over the shouts and screams. Rolling over onto his knees, he hears Ralof screaming to get to the tower and sees the others moving there, and decides that's about as good an idea as any right about now. Yashmar runs as quickly as he can into the tower, taking cover behind its stone walls from the fiery death that erupts outside. Staring into the sky from the safety of the doorway, he asks no one in particular "Never knew Skyrim had real dragons here before."

[Draidden]

Fafnord Now that he and several others are hiding in the tower, Fafnord turns and checks out the inside of the tower. Looking for doors, stairs and any useful items or places they might be stored. He speaks to the others. "Let's not just stand around. Help check the place for anything we can use as weapons or anything else that may be useful. We should probably try to get out of town before the dragon goes away. Otherwise we would likely end up as prisoners again."   Dice Roll: 1d20+4 (9)+4 Total = 13 Perception check inside tower.   Emmeric's Stats Fafnord God-Helm Human Paladin 1 HP: 14/14 | AC 13 | Hit Die: 1/1 STR 19(+4) DEX 16(+3) CON 18(+4) INT 14(+2) WIS 14(+2) CHA 16(+3) Initiative: +3 Weapons: Att: +6, Dmg: 1d4+4Unarmed Features and Abilities: AllArmor Proficiencies | Simple weapons and Martial weaponsWeapon Proficiencies | Land and Water VehiclesTool Proficiencies | The presence of strong evil registers on your senses like a noxious odor, and powerful good rings like heavenly music in your ears. As an action, you can open your awareness to detect such forces. Until the end of your next turn, you know the location of any celestial, fiend, or undead within 60 feet of you that is not behind total cover. You know the type (celestial, fiend, or undead) of any being whose presence you sense, but not its identity (the vampire Count Strahd von Zarovich, for instance). Within the same radius, you also detect the presence of any place or object that has been consecrated or desecrated, as with the hallow spell. You can use this feature a number of times equal to 1 + your Charisma modifier. When you finish a long rest, you regain all expended uses.Divine Sense | 5 hit points per level of PaladinLay on Hands | Tavern Brawler Feat

[/QUOTE]