Initiative 9
Isegrimm and his men move into position.
End Round 3
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Round 4
Initiative 22
Ruhas will strike at the wolf with his Saex,
drawing first blood from the beast. He then dismounts Karab. Karab crawls away from the fighting, trying to get some room to stand
Tegze and Tuma fire their bows at the big black wolf,
they both hit, but do little damage to the beast.
Initiative 19
The wolf steps back, now surrounded by men. He snaps out viciously at Berengar.
It rips open Berengar's left calf as it jerks him off his feet and into the mud.
Round 4
Initiative 18+
With a sidestep and another two-handed swing, Odalric growls through clenched teeth at the wolf.
Battleaxe: (might get a flank bonus there if Bertman has longspear reach? If so, I didn't factor it in yet).
Damage:
Round 4
Initiative 18-
HP: 23
Rage Rounds: 4
Berengar howls as the wolf tears open his calf and drags him down. He tries to roll and stand back up, but his leg buckles for a second, opening him up to another attack. One of his claws comes up to slash at the wolf.
Round 4
Initiative 18+
Feller strikes home a mighty blow on the wolf, causing it to curse in pain.
Initiative 18-
The wolf bites Berengar again as he is standing, but receives a claw to the face for his troubles.
Round 4
Initiative 9
Isegrimm winds up and steps into his blow, smashing his axe against the wolf with tremendous strength.
Isegrimm's axe cracks the encircled wolf's skull open with a loud thunk.
Berengar breathes heavily from the fighting. Then he suddenly roars out in victory. "Wolves are no match for the Bear!" He laughs loudly. As he calms down, he says, "Though talking wolves are something new." He walks up to the black wolf's corpse and sniffs lightly as the stench. Then he kicks the corpse as he examines it.
Odalric comes off of his divine fury and takes a look around before kneeling down at the black wolf's head as Berengar kicks it. He puts a finger in between the wolf's eyes and and presses there inquisitively. "A wolf that speaks...some agent of the gods, perhaps...? he says, voice trailing off. No doubt there was something powerful in the creature, even beyond nature. Thinking on that, he slowly slides his seax from his belt and angles it against the creature's throat. Cupping his hand beneath the blade, looks up at Berengar. "Powerful blood in this beast. It would be good to share of it." He slits the wolf's throat and gathers a pool of scarlet in his palm, lifts it to his lips, and drinks the handful, leaving his lips with a sheen of blood.
The blood tastes of rotting meat and bitter ash.
"Bah, that'll probably turn your stomach, coming from a foul beast such as that." Instead, Berengar dips his fingers into the blood and then smears it onto his face, arms, and body, giving him a even more terrifying look.
Odalric swallows the blood anyway, regardless of the taste, and does his best to keep it down and not choke, still believing the talking wolf to be some work or test of the gods. As Berengar paints himself with the blood, Odalric looks up and grins. "Might be, but the smell is an improvement on you, I think." He chuckles as he stands, wiping the blood from his lips. He suddenly looks grim, however. "I hope no such pack descends on my lads."
When Odalric mentions similar wolves possibly attacking their sibbs, the battle excitement dies from Berengar. He nods. "Our sibbs are vulnerable without us there to protect them. We can only hope that by succeeding, we make all Saxons safer." He contemplates this for a moment, thinking about the burden of leadership.
Finally he says, "Come, let us leave this place. We have a task ahead of us."
Odalric nods, sheathing his seax. "Yes. Every moment lingered is one more for the Franks to gain footing."
The group reforms their lines and continues on with their journey. It's not long before the smell of wood fires is drifting through the trees into their nostrils. Following the smell and path, they come upon a small settlement in a wooded clearing. There are perhaps half a dozen dwellings surrounding a great hall. Two men with spears step into the road in front of the group as they approach. "Halt, who are you? What is your business with Wiligais?" they ask.
Odalric pushes his way forward to address the guards. "Greetings from Bremen and well met. I am Oldaric, son of Fensric and these here are Berengar of Bernhild, Ruhas, grandson of Ogar the Old, and Isegrimm, son of Cwichelm, all of us thegns of dryhten Aldhun, and them that are their gedryht. We have come on behalf of Aldhun and all of Saxony to seek the stalwart Wiligais of the Bruchteri. Saxony wishes to form an allegiance with your people and join arms against the Franks and their single-god. Let us pass and see your dryhten."
Diplomacy:
Berengar stands silently with Odalric as he states their names. He gives a toothy grin to the two men, something half between a smile and a snarl. Hopefully, they would honor the rites of hospitality.
The two men glance at each other, and hesitate momentarily before stepping aside and saying, "Well met honored thegns. Please, the dryhten is in his hall." pointing the short way to the large hall.
Odalric nods to the guards and passed in between them, but stops momentarily and says "my gedryht travels behind us. One of my men took one too many arrows from brigands on the road. He still lives, but their coming is slow. Look out for them, if you would." he then continues on into the camp, heading towards the largest of the structures. He absentmindedly flicks his thumb over the butt of Feller as he walks, lost in thought as he runs through lines of discourse in his head. I hope this Wiligais is a reasonable sort. His guards let us through easily enough, even at mention of banding together against the Franks, so he seems approachable in that regard at the very least. Unless this is some sort of trap.