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Legends of the Drunkest Master

Game Master OneDrunkViking



As all men know, magic is a fickle thing. Working under the best conditions one is about as likely to summon the proper spell as they are to call forth the unspeakable entities at the fringe of existence. It is not something to be toyed with.

Unfortunately for our hero, Xulgag he was on the wrong end of the wand...

The magical door closes, Xulgag executes a flying kick, heel smashing into the beast's jaw, driving it back into the hillside. They tumble through the threshold together, fists and fang flying in fury. The hill rumbles and begins to shake and sink, as the door glimpses shut, two magics meet in a cacophony of cataclysmic arcane energies. A whirling vortex of unknown colors, sounds, smells, and feeling surrounds our hero as he hits the ground.

Xulgag hit the ground and instead of moist cold dirt he feels a dry, dusty surface sapping the coolness from his body. Xul is warm and upon opening his eyes he sees he is outside in the early daylight. The surroundings are dirt, and more dirt. This is not the countryside he had been on moments previously. Xulgag immediately feels alone and unsure. Striking boot heel to dirt he begins walking along the dusty road to whatever is its destination.

So begins the new journey of Xulgag the Wanderer...

PART ONE: A STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND...

Xulgag has been walking along the road for most of the day. His lips chapped and cracked from the blistering sun. He has been without water for a length before, a early trial in his education, but not in such heat.

As he continues, step by step, down the road his mind drifts to his past and the time in the monastery...

Go ahead and tell a tale of Xulgag's past. You are in control of the past, and I his present. Together, we make the future!


Male Half-Orc Drunken Master

Going back in time....
Xulgag pushes himself up from the sparring pit floor. Spitting sand from his mouth, he looks at his master in defiance.

"You still haven't learned? You will soon enough!" The master says then points at three more students. "You three help Xulgag learn the error in his recklessness. Young one, you can't just jump head first in to every obstacle."

Three students entered the pit, joining the others. Xulgag counted six opponents, no, twelve. Maybe six. Whatever the case, they made short work of the half-orc. Xulgag punch, kicked, even headbutted as much as he could but victory was not his. In the end he had to surrender.

"Master, forgive my recklessness!" Xulgag yelled amongst being pummeled by his pupils. "It will not happen again!"

The master whistled and the beatings ceased. "Be gone the rest of you. Leave him." After the rest of the students left he approached Xulgag. "It's in your nature to be reckless, thoughtless." The master picked up a large stone. "You must be like this stone. Unbreakable, in control of itself."

"But master, a stone is thoughtless and with a hammer I could break it into dust."

"Perhaps. Here, take it and lift it high into the air. When I get back you can tell me who broke first. Your will or the rock's." The master did not return until the next morning


The memory warms Xul's heart, the fondness for his master he developed over his time there. But as his heart mind clears and heart warms, so does the rising sun begin to reach its peak. The heat of the day beating into his arms and legs.

He hears it. Barely audible at first but slowly gaining momentum. A wagon!

Behind you on the road a wagon approaches. It is still a good distance back but surely it will catch up to you in a few minutes.

ROLL ME PERCEPTION!


Xulgag hears the wagon approaching and keeps on his path. "Whether they be friend or foe, perhaps they have some wine to share!" He thinks to himself.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21


You turn to look at the wagon, a small man whipping the horses into a clipping move. A sharp glare crosses your eyes. Steel. You see them. Two men, one on either side of the rode. Bandits.

You've spotted the bandits about to waylay the wagon. Roll initiative.

Bandit's Int: 1d20 ⇒ 8
Wagon: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11


Male Half-Orc Drunken Master

Xulgag's Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
Xulgag begins to sprint toward the bandits to hopefully thwart the ambush.


Xulgag moves with startling speed for a man without water. You are unburdened, nothing to your name but the clothes on your back. You will make it to the bandits on the start of your next turn.

Wagon: The man driving the wagon doesn't seem to notice the men in the ditches along side the road.

Bandits: The man to the right of the road brings his arm up and you can see a rope twirling. A grappling hook!

Grappling throw!: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

The hook catches the the wagon and goes taut. You see it's been fastened to a nearby tree stump.

1d100 ⇒ 100

The rope pull tights and the wagon slows for but a moment, the tree stump gives way and is pulled out of the ground slamming into the back of the first bandit.

Bandit Jump!: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

The second bandit leaps towards the side of the wagon as it slows for a moment and catches hold to the side, gripping his short sword tightly in his left hand.

You realize you have no need to run towards the oncoming wagon, it'll be within your grasp in a moment.


Male Half-Orc Drunken Master

Xulgag begins to ready himself by entering a state of serenity. He starts to sway gently, "like the wine in a bottle" he whispers and his mouth waters thinking of a drink. Just as the wagon approaches, Xulgag steps out of it's way and reaches out for it.
I'd imagine he'd try to grab hold of it and, with both the wagon and his own momentum, pull himself on to the wagon. I like to think it's acrobatics but that's because I have a +6 to it. I'll assume it's atleast a strength test and we can add an additional +4 afterwards. Assuming he doesn't fail completely

Xulgag's Attempt: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6


"like the wine in a bottle..."

You reach for the wagon and begin to turn so as to catch it just right, unfortunately, much like the drunkard hailing a ride you tumble and spin sideways. Your arm reaches out but the man on the side boots your foot away.

Make a reflex check to grap ahold of the back of the wagon DC 15


Male Half-Orc Drunken Master

Reflex!!: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Xulgag quickly realizes he might be thinking too much into his actions and at the last second, jumps for the wagon and grabs hold of it.


The man with the blade sees you swing onto the back of the wagon. He turns from the driver who is whipping at the horses wildly and takes the few short steps towards you and brings his boot down on your hand.

Attack!: 1d20 ⇒ 18

Make a reflex check at DC:18 to avoid the smashing heel!


Male Half-Orc Drunken Master

Reflex: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
Xulgag feels the boot smash into his hand and cringes in pain.


Your hand is stomped by his boot heel and you quickly pull it away. Now, dangling one handed, your muscles rippling as the wagon bounces along the road. It is your turn.


Male Half-Orc Drunken Master

Gaining his foot, Xulgag begins to sway. Like wine in a bottle, he thinks to himself as he enters his serpent stance he can't help but think of the last drop of delicious wine he had. Even as he rises to his feet he eyes up his opponent and down. The bandit, while armed looks puzzled at Xulgag's battle posture. Seeing his opportunity, Xulgag spins, throw a fist out to feign attack Xulgag's actual attack is a leg sweep.

Trip Attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11


ONE MONTH LATER THE GM COMES BACK

Your leg sweeps low and the bandit is not prepared to jump while atop the fast moving wood wagon.

Rolling to see where he falls. 11+ he falls off the wagon

1d20 ⇒ 11

The man tumbles off the side and you hear a sickening crunch as some part of his body rolls under the wheel.

"Sheesh mister! You get rid of em all?!" The driver yells back, lashing the horses to run even faster just in case.

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