GM Tyranius Giantslayer (Inactive)

Game Master Tyranius

Kraygan continues to hack at the wolf in a haze of fury.

"DIEEE!!"

Martial flexibility round 2/10
Rage round 2/6
Furious Focus Power Attack: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16
Damage: 1d10 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17

Haggis stabilization check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

Torgan grips Agrimmosh as he stumbles to his feet and takes a swing at the wolf trying to rip him to pieces. The wolf nips at him as he stands and tries to relocate around the beast.

Provokes for standing up.

Agrimmosh @ Red Wolf: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
Damage: 2d6 + 5 ⇒ (5, 4) + 5 = 14

Haggis' bleeding seems to stanch for now. Kraygan slams his axe into the wolf's neck, ending it's life. The wolf falls in a large heap on top of Torgan.

Pushing with everything he has Torgan rolls the wolf off of him and rolls onto his stubby legs.

Going to redirect you to green orc since wolf is dead.

Midroll Torgan slams Agrimmosh into the orc's knee, cracking the bone.

Round 3
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Orcs (green- 14; blind; red -33; staggered)
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Round 3
Kraygan (Haggis -2/18; bleeding)
Torgan (15/40)
Wren
Jorgan (19/39)
Vanderhoff (30/31)

@GM: Add two damage to the attack then, since Torgan's favored enemy is Orc.

Will do

Vanderhoff quickly scans the area for any other threats then steps east and swings his hammer at the orc.

Power Attack: 1d20 + 8 - 1 ⇒ (16) + 8 - 1 = 23
Damage: 1d12 + 4 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 4 + 3 = 15

Swinging as he steps, Van puts his entire mass behind the attack.

Round 3, Init 12

Wren moves closer to shoot at Greenie, the green orc known for his amber skin. Ol' Greenie had grown up hoping to be a skull-sculptor, but had gotten pigeonholed into being a raider after failed out of both phrenology and trepanning classes.

In truth, Ol' Greenie would be much happier with a lathe and a sharp rock cutting designs on skulls. But today, he was taking fire from an elf in his back...while blinded no less.

Greenie didn't choose orc life; orc life chose Greenie.

1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 8 + 1 = 24 to hit; (PBS)
1d8 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10 damage.

gore: 1d20 + 7 - 1 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 7 - 1 + 4 = 30
damage: 1d6 + 6 + 2 + 1d6 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 2 + (6) = 16

Confirm:
gore: 1d20 + 7 - 1 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 7 - 1 + 4 = 27
damage: 1d6 + 6 + 2 + 1d6 ⇒ (4) + 6 + 2 + (4) = 16

Hops guts the already-bloody orc. Jorgan and his yak then run past the corpse of the red-clad orc and come back to the beach. "Took care o' that one!" he calls to the others.

The group easily finishes off the two remaining orcs as Wren's arrow slams into the green orc's already blind eye and Hops tamples the orc in front of him into the ground.

The area around the building goes quiet once again. Looking inside the blond haired heavily armored woman lied in a heap on the floor. A small splatter of blood creeps down the wall near where her body lies as does a trickle down her brow.

Combat Over

As the last orc falls, Vandrhoff begins hustling toward the building. "Did I hear someone in there?" He calls over his shoulder. Bounding up the stairs, he moves toward the fallen person, praying to Angraad to stabilize the person.

Wren follows Vanderhoff into the abode, scanning for danger as he does. He takes in the body of the woman grimly.

"Does she live, Vanderhoff?" Wren asks before yelling back over his shoulder. "JORGAN! GET IN HERE! JORGAN!!"

If and when the other dwarves come in, Wren will retreat outside to keep watch. He will slit the throats of the downed orcs, just to be sure. Sometimes they don't go down easily. And he will search them for loot, magic, and exploding heads.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21 Perception

Van shrugs, moves closer to the woman, and takes her hand in order to feel for a pulse.

Heal: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

Vanderhoff is able to stabilize the woman it seems. As he kneels down he he grips her smaller wrist in his gnarled hands and feels a pulse.

Wren rushes outside to scout out the area to make sure no more orc raiders are coming through the woods.

Looking over the bodies he finds

• Shadow Essence (3 doses)
  
• studded leather (3)
  
• falchion (3)
  
• antitoxin (3)
  
• 135 gp (27 ea)
  
• Goblin Skull Bomb (2)

"She's alive!" Vanderhoff calls out. "Bring the wand!"

"Here, this one's only got one hit left on it anyways."

clw: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Jorgan then tosses aside the now-useless stick. He backs away, fearing his stench might cause her to slip into unconsciousness again and also feeling that the sight of his unkempt beard is probably not the best thing to wake to.

After the wolf and orc he was fighting fall Kraygan drops to his knees.

"Noooooo!" He bellows, tears dripping into his beard. "Say somethin! Anythin!! Don't ye die on me ye dumb beast!"

Haggis makes a sound, a raspy breath that sends bloody yak snot into the dirt. Cradling the animal's head in his lap, Kraygan snatches a couple potions from his pack, wipes his eyes to check the labels, and gingerly pours some into the yak's mouth. "Here ye are. Jus drink... No, don't ye spit it out!" Grabbing Haggis by the face he wrestles his mouth closed and waits for it to swallow.

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

With a pained cry Haggis stirs and struggles back to his feet.

"Alright Haggis!" He pats the animal's flank. "Hey Hoff, I think Haggis could use some more healing from tha' wand..."

He looks around but doesn't find the warpriest nearby.

"Torgan?... Wren??"

Eventually he tracks down his companions inside the fort. "Thanks for all the help. Donnae worry, Haggis will live. Probably. What 'bout her?"

Vanderhoff shrugs at Kray's question. "Don't know yet. She'll probably need more healing." He murmurs, staring at the woman. She seems quite fetching, even with the blood and bruises... Remembering the yak for the first time, Van looks over his shoulder, an apologetic look on his face. "I..I forgot, how's Haggis? Does he require healing?"

Jorgan heals a portion of the woman's wounds though she still does not seem to awaken while outside Kraygan is near to giving mouth to mouth as Haggis wakes up with a jerk. The large yak rolls over to his feet and stumbles a short distance.

Wren gathers the loot for taking back to the ship while others tend to yak and woman. When the yak arises again, Wren goes back in to check on the woman.

"Can you get her awake? Or should we take her back to the ship? Maybe a few days of rest will get her back on her feet?" Wren suggests.

Torgan slumps to the ground as the rest of the makeshift heroes run to and fro. He looks at his leg, savaged by the wolf. "Bloody 'ound." he mutters as he rips his breeches just above the yak-riding boots to get a better look at the puncture wounds. "I can already feel it bruisin'."

He gives a whistle and Malt trots out of the nearby reeds, a few stray lily pads being chomped on by the quadruped.

He grabs the pommel of the saddle and pulls himself onto the beast to ease the tension in his leg before calling out to his brother. "How's th' lass doin'?"

After seeing them trot her out, Torgan advises his kin. "We should regroup an' heal at th' boat while we try t'wake 'er."

Dragging the woman back to the jolly boat Torgan sets her in with ease as the yaks and dwarves all clamor aboard.

Once everyone is aboard Wren sets his feet into the soil and pushes off, with a few attempts, before the boat takes to the water. Grabbing the thick wooden oars Torgan begins to row back to the ship where one by one they are brought aboard.

The Captain grabs the blond haired woman and places her on the deck.

What happened? Is she alright?

Sure none of you dwarven warriors want to carry any of the goblin skull bombs? We might see trolls. Or frozen giants. Or uncooked bacon beasts!! You need fire! We have two bombs.

If the woman is being taken to the boat without being awoken, Wren will begin a very thorough search of her van down by the river cabin, casting Detect Magic.

Take 20 Perception = 28.

"I will leave nothing here for future raiders," Wren grumbles, stuffing what he can into his haversack.

I wonder if she has beer in here. Does she have beer?

While Torgan is loading the Jolly, Wren decides to scour the small building. In the main portion of the house he finds loose maps strewn all about along with various ledgers, though nothing magical.

Heading back around by the dead horses Wren finds the door to the shed locked and secured. Looking for magic once again he senses something faint behind the door.

Locked, eh? We didn't find a key?

"Say, Kraygan!? Did you find a key on the woman?" Wren yells and waits for a response. "There is a locked shed with some magic behind it. Might be worth taking with us."

If no key, Wren muscles up and tries to break open the door.

1d20 + 0 - 0 ⇒ (8) + 0 - 0 = 8 Str check
1d20 + 0 - 0 ⇒ (7) + 0 - 0 = 7 Str check
1d20 + 0 - 0 ⇒ (3) + 0 - 0 = 3 Str check

*If* he fails to bust it open, he will take out his lock picks and flail around with them for a bit. When that fails, he will give up. He explains the door is nigh impregnable to the dwarvesmoot.

Searching the heavily armored woman Kraygan does indeed find a key tied around her neck. Untying it he holds it up for Wren to see.

Grabbing the key Wren finds that it fits the door just fine and unlocks it.

Inside all he sees is a saddle hanging on a peg against the eastern wall. It is the saddle that is radiating magic.

Vanderhoff helps carry the woman to the noat. "Gently! Gently now." Seeing go back and begin rummaging around, he frowns. "Damned elf is more worried about lining his pockets then helping out this poor woman." Finding a wand that still has magic in it, he heals the woman some more.

CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

And another, if needed: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Vanderhoff heals the woman a bit more. Right as the magic takes hold her eyes flitter open and she leaps back in the Jolly with a start, rocking the whole vessel while black-eyed dwarves stare back at here.

What.. what.. WHAT THE HELLS IS THIS?

She reaches for her sword as she realizes that you don't mean her any harm.

It takes several minutes for her to begin to calm down and even more as Haggis licks the side of her head.

Vanderhoff holds up a hand. "Easy ma'am. We don't mean you no harm. We came up the river and found your place being ransacked by orc and wolves. You were unconscious in the building." Pointing, he says. "Them orcs and wolves are dead. Can you tell us what happened?"

She shakes but her resolve remains. Her voice is slow and steady but without fear.

The bastards came out of nowhere. They blindsided me while I was cleaning the horses... Next thing I know I am waking up to you. What are you doing here anyways?

She says to Vanderhoff as he armor glints in the sun's rays.

Wren explores the shed and the magics therein.

1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 10 + 2 = 27 Spellcraft - Saddle

Oh man, that's a nice saddle. Magic and all....hmm...would anyone want it?

Wren peeks out around the shed, to Haggis, then to Hops, then to 'Hoof and shrugs. He strains to bring the saddle back to the boat.

Vanderhoff jerks his thumb back toward the keelboat. "Supplies. We are hitchin' a ride on that boat that is bringing you and your knights some weapons and supplies."

Looking at the woman, he tries to take stock of her as he asks. "You knights only keep one person posted at this here way station? Seems ill-advised, if you pardon me saying so."

That may be but we are few in number in this area. The core of our order is stationed at Castle Firrine further inland.

The woman sits up grunting in pain. She places a hand on her head. Damned cowards..... One of our order is equal to 20 Orcs. That is why they have to use their cowardice tactics. I wish that there was something I could do about all of the orcs in the area.

Hearing about the supplies she turns to look at the large vessel.

Yes, I was expecting the shipment a bit earlier. You are a bit late. She waves her hand.

No matter. Will you give me a hand unloading the equipment?

Torgan says haughtily as he nurses his leg and cracked ribs, seated and leaned up against the railing. "They're full-blooded orcs. They 'ave no honor an' ye 'ave no brains if ye didn't consider ambush a possibility."

"Might as well toss these weapons o'erboard if it's just you gonna be guarding 'em, since they are likely to return when their comrades don't an' we won't be here." Torgan states plainly.

Jorgan nods in agreement with his brother. We'll just be supplying the enemy with better steel than they already have. "Maybe you oughta come with us, ma'am. It'll be safer for you that way."

Wren looks at the lady as if she were nuts. Heck, she *is* nuts...or at least a simpleton. After 250+ years, it never failed to surprise Wren with how dumb humans could be. And this one was a fine specimen of that human stupidity.

"Are you sure you want to go back? You're still deeply injured, you have no healing magic, and there still might be many orcs about. And what are you planning on doing with all those weapons?" Wren asks, trying to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

He glances at the saddle that he was 'protecting' for her...preventing it from falling into the hands of the orc raiders.

Van scrambles to his seat and nods. "Of course we'll help unload, milady!" He says gallantly, then begins pulling on the oars to take the jolly boat back to the keelboat. "When are expecting reinforcements? Er, whatever you'd call it, shift change? Where are all the supplies headed? Surely they're not just going to sit here."

"They're full-blooded orcs. They 'ave no honor an' ye 'ave no brains if ye didn't consider ambush a possibility."

"Might as well toss these weapons o'erboard if it's just you gonna be guarding 'em, since they are likely to return when their comrades don't an' we won't be here."

"Hey, there ain't no reason to be talkin to the lady like that. As a knight she's made oaths to do her duty. Regardless of brains."

To the lady knight, Kraygan attempts a bow, made awkward by his armor and the small boat, and Haggis who has turned his attention to licking his helmet. "Sorry 'bout the rough introduction, they're good dwarves, but they wouldn't know a knight if it punched them in the face. I'm Kraygan, Order of the Dragon, Janderhoff mounted cavalry. This here is Haggis. Stop with the lickin! That over there, the one with manners, is me second cousin, Vanderhoff. Those two 'r first cousins, Jorgan and Torgan. We're all from clan Steelkeg, but have been workin a brewery in Trunau. The elf is Wren."

"We can help ye with yer supplies, but Hoff's got a good point. What do ye plan to do? Can't see ye movin them without horses, though ye might be able to get the captain to part with one o' his common beasts."

Thank you Kraygan, Order of the Dragon. It is nice that at least one of you knows about honor and duty.

She shakes her head Nevermind all of that. It is no way for me to thank you for saving my life. In the shed behind the stables is a special saddle. Please take it as it is all I have to repay you for helping me. She says turning to point at he shed as Wren comes walking up with the saddle already in hand.

Her eyes narrow momentarily like daggers but she doesn't say anything about the situation.

The orcs never were this much of a threat. Though I have been seeing more and more of them as of late. Multiple campfires have been lit in the distance a little less than a week ago. Almost as if someone or something is organizing the horde....

She shudders at the thought.

No need for his horse. My order will be by later this evening to pick up the supplies. They are being used to replenish Castle Firrine.

It is nice that at least one of you knows about honor and duty.

Wren returns her look with one of his own.

We just saved her and her magic saddle and she looks like that me? Humans. You know what they say...can't live with them, they breed too much.

Wren leaves the others to carry the gear back to the cabin. He returns to his work with the lockpicks, determined to make some progress on their use.

Just seeing if anyone else is going to reply before pushing forward.

"Maybe we'll wait around til this evening then to make sure the shipment makes it into yer friend's hands then. I don't think it would be quite right to abandon you with such a valuable cache, leaves you open to another attack."

Ripping up a piece of stray cloth and wrapping it around his wounded leg, Torgan agrees with his brother. "Jorgan has th' right o' it. No need t' give th' orcs better weapons."

"No need t' give th' orcs better weapons."

Wren looks at Torgan, trying to keep his face calm.

"Torgan, where was that thought when we were discussing the very mission we're on? Should we re-think what we're doing?"

The Captain brings the shipment to the deck and loads it on the Jolly boat. Slowly the crew rolls the barrel as the weapons and armor clang and shift about.

Hearing about staying til the shift picks up he weapons and armor Bloodtusk responds in kind.

The plan was to lay anchor for the night anyways. We should reach the Ghostlight Marsh tomorrow afternoon. If you wish you should join us for dinner tonight you would e welcome. These men caught a river drake the other day that we are cooking this evening. Bloodtusk says pointing to Wren and the Steelkeg Clan.

The blond haired knight smiles kindly. That would be great.

Looking to the dwarves she says. In that case after my order secures the weapons and I give my report I will return to the ship and dine with you.

"We obviously won't fall, ye crazy elf. A few hundred orcs couldn't take down th' Steelkeg quartet an' their pet elf." he says, purposefully ribbing the man.

"Yer gift honors us, and we'd be lyin to say it won't be put to good use." Kraygan says to the woman knight. "All of us r' trained riders, and we'll be more'n happy to ride down a few orcs or giants on it."

When the Captain agrees to hold for the night and host a dinner party, Kraygan's eyes twinkle with the look one who knows him would recognize as the look he gets when anticipating beer.

As the last tasks of the day are done, Kraygan makes sure that Haggis is well tended to, and healed by any of his cousins still in possession of a healing wand.

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

On the subject of the magical saddle, he expresses keen interest in it.

"So, what's the magic of this saddle do?"

IC, Kraygan wants it, but OOC Jorgan and Vanderhoff are both due for something. Thoughts anyone?

The knight grunts as she lifts the barrel. Wiping her hands on her cloak. The saddle helps a rider and mount be more in tune with one another. A knight and their mount fight as one. She says between breaths looking back at the stable with a sadness in her eyes.

"We obviously won't fall, ye crazy elf. A few hundred orcs couldn't take down th' Steelkeg quartet an' their pet elf." he says, purposefully ribbing the man glorious elf.

FTFY.

Wren grunts at the thought that they couldn't be killed by a few hundred orcs. More than once already, most of them had lain in pools of their blood (or yak's blood) barely clinging to life. And it was likely to happen again.

"It's only the lives of all those in Trunau if we fail, dwarf," Wren grumbles, not really having a comeback. "At least we'll eat well before we die. Don't forget, we still need a wisp before we can even get the weapons. Maybe it won't be an issue at all."

Wren is ready to eat, to practice his locks, and bed. He can't wait to get off this ship of the damned

@Kraygan: It would be wasted on Jorgan as he already shares his teamwork feats with his yak. Sorry Jorgan! :(

After the barrels are loaded she rows them back to the small stone building and awaits her comrades.

Within the hour a small contingent of Knights on horseback with torches and a wagon approach. She spends a few minutes with them loading the new supplies as they leave a Knight with her after hearing her report of being ambushed by orcs. Their faces seem quite grim.

The replacement knight enters the building and takes his post and begins the process of cleaning up some of the mess and disposing of the bodies.

Hopping back in the boat the blond haired knight returns to the ship eager for a good meal.

The smell of cooked river drake wafts in the air making everyone's mouth's water. She looks to Wren as she eyes him coolly. Smells wonderful doesn't it?

Captain Bloodtusk welcomes her back to the vessel and escorts everyone over to the bow of the ship where a long table is set up with a large platter of river drake right in the center. The non moldy bread is brought up from the hold as well.