Haldorr sighs, dropping his guard as A∂abjörn reassures him. "Perhaps I overreacted with haste. I will stand nearby and remain attentive. As the huscarl said, I do not think a shield wall necessary to go about defending these three from wolves, Dvallar. That is, if that actually was a wolf..." He half shrugs and breaks from what was the beginning of a shield wall, moving into the clearing. He watches the girls as they move from field to bushel, collecting flowers.
Dvallar notices the others peering in all directions, and keeps an eye on the one direction they don't cover: the sky.
Helle continues to try to direct the girls to the closer field without alarming them. She keeps giving her lecture in low voice. Mustn't lose the girls attention, but I hope I'm speaking quietly enough the others can hear whatever it was again.
You can hear people approaching. Sounds like boasting. Or sqaubling. 3 or maybe 4
Three armed men approach. Dragging behind them is another (male?) In chains. He is being tugged along. He looks beaten and bruised. Almost completely naked
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The man you see in chains is tall and thin, though athletic. Black hair falls down his face and covers it, though still you can see a pair of blue eyes burning with anger. The tattered clothes he's wearing reveal a pair of animal tattoos (a wolf and a raven) and a white skin typical from those who hadn't spent their lives working in the fields under the northern sun. From time to time he tries to break free, but the chains are well tightened and he is held on firmly by one of the laughing men.
Haldorr draws his greataxe as he notices three shady-looking men approaching the girls with their prisoner in tow.
"You there! What is the meaning of this?" He demands an answer from the armed guards and turns to stand in front of the jarl's daughters, stopping them from getting any closer.
O∂ørn sees the figures emerge from the forest and moves as quickly as possible over towards the girls, trying to make sure he is between them and the newcomers. He glances at each of the four figures in turn and tries to obtain some glimpse of their intentions.
Their intentions clear, as they draw their weapons
"Look here lads, pretty little playthings to take home with us."
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"Snorri? Sven's lad? What have you got yourself mixed up in lad?"
Aðalbjörn unslings his spear and steps up to the men.
"I'm not pretty. And I'm not little. I'm oathed to the protection of the souls in this clearing. You are outclassed here, leave Snorri with us and leave these lands, or fertilise these flowers with your blood."
Odørn's face darkens at the stranger's comments. He follows the lead of the warriors and straps his shield on. He raises his finger to point at the men, a faint white light like mist swirling around it's end. You will want to listen to my large friend here. The least he may do to you is kill you.
Dvallar readies her shield and draws her hammer.
Humans always do love their verbal spars she reflected, calling upon her Ancestors for guidance "Brokkr. Andvarri."
"We need your names so we'll know where to send the weregild." she advises the humans.
Helle steps behind the girls, and tries to gather them close to herself. "Girls, she whispers, "keep calm please, but be prepared to move quickly if need be."
She slips her dagger from it's sheath.
-Oi! Aðalbjörn! These f**&@!s found me while I was planting a pine tree. They probably fell in love with my lovely white arse. Tell them how do we deal with this in Halfstead!
Without letting the other know IC
11 non leathal damage. They beat you up pretty good
The one who seems to be the leader sneers
"Either us or you. But rest assured. If we win. These girls will have a bright future ahead of them"
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Believe me, you foul-smelling fiends, the girls will have a bright future indeed, but you shall have no future at all.
O∂ørn launches a spear-like bolt of ice from his finger tip, aimed directly at the speaker's chest.
His aim is off, however, and the icicle flies harmlessly over the heads of the men. He takes up a defensive position in front of the girls and draws a branch of coral from his cloak, holding it up like a charm to ward off evil.
The two flanking the larger man, throw their javalin. One throws at Odorn, the other at Bjorn.
The larger one laughs as he takes out his falchion
"Prepare to meet your gods!'
He finds his mark, it cuts into you
The distraction by the ice bolt threw off his aim as his spear sails past you
The girls scream and run to the back of their protectors!
"Enough words!"
Aðalbjörn bellows, it is the first time many in the party have heard him raise his voice, they will not forget in a hurry.
With that Aðalbjörn moves towards the big falchion wielder, bring his shield and spear to ready position as he does so. Then at the last minute, just as the spear is expected to hit home, he lashes out at the man's groin with a wicked kick.
Recovering quickly, he drops into a fighting stance shield high, spear raised...
Helle stands in front of the girls, but behind the others. She begins to speak softly, but clearly while waving her dagger slightly. She is staring at the man to the left of the falchion wielding man. She hopes to daze him.
Dvallar charges in to stand beside Aðalbjörn, forming an impromptu shield wall. Her underhand hammer swing is textbook perfect, the result of decades of practice.
"Fools! You will live to regret this. Rather, you will die wishing you'd never crossed the jarl!" Haldorr shouts at the men as he moves in next to Dvallar and Aðalbjörn. He brings his greataxe down hard on the man wielding the falchion.
The warrior simply shakes his head for a split second, and Helle can see the spell had no effect on the large man!
Bjorn's spear is deflected with ease, same with Haldorr, it seems the man with the Falchion is a very proficient wielder of said weapon. But by deflecting the two attackers, he is caught off guard by the smaller hammer, and it connect hard against his shoulder. He grunts in frustration
The group retaliates, first, the two warriors beside the falchion wielding man, switch to their melee weapons, both now weilding greatswords, yet they do not advance on them.
The large man, swings at Dvallar "I will teach you manners little girl!" he growls
His weapons barely misses the artery in her neck as it slams into her shoulder!
O∂ørn notices the ease with which the falchion wielder deflected the blows of his allies and struck Dvallar. I shall have to do something about that, he thinks. He raises his coral branch and a mote of light appears before the man and suddenly bursts in brilliant light.
Dvallar goes even whiter - if that is possible - as she hears the crunch from inside her shoulder. She half-steps backwards as she desperately tests the shoulder and her vision almost blacks out.
Damn, that's my hammer arm. I'm not swinging that until I've had a chance to patch myself up. I'm lucky - he was too wild to properly connect. Humans fight badly when angry.
Smiling viciously she steps back again, her stance open, using on insult a human had once used on her "You fighting or flirting, girl?"
As the man telegraphed his blow, Dvallar's shield darted to intercept with a speed born of endless practice.
Aðalbjörn, now fighting in furious silence, deaf to all the is occurring around him, steps forward and puts his shoulder to the big man he faces, somehow his foot is behind the man and...
...the man falls to his back, Aðalbjörn looming over him.
Helle continues to try to calm the girls down. She glares at the man to the right of the group, and says "You made a mistake."
His eyes cross a bit as he drops the weapon he was holding
FS vs Flare: 1d20 ⇒ 20 No effect :)
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Snorri starts to run all of a sudden, trying to reach the limits of his chains in an attempt to unbalance the one who's holding him.
The big guy get's up, and takes a swing at Bjorn! Finding its mark yet again, digging into him
The one lacky switches to his longsword, and takes a swing at Dvallar
But his swing narrowly misses her, by glancing off her armor
As his foe climbs to his feet Aðalbjörn takes the opportunity to kick the man in the face...
Helle tries to daze the only enemy she hasn't attempted the spell on, the man with the Falchion.
Snorri feels there's a chance of not dying today, and tries to sneak past the fight without calling too much attention.
-You just wait till I have these chains off...
Dvallar snorted as the human - predictably - scrambled to his feet, more interested in his footing than his grip. It was the work of a moment to ensure his Falchion banged between her hammer's shaft and her shield - even without swinging.
O∂ørn flinches as he sees the falchion bite into A∂albjörn. He determines that the best course of action might be to impede the whole group of ruffians rather just one at a time as he had been doing. With a quick prayer and a series of gestures with his coral branch, O∂ørn causes a mass of grasses and flowers to erupt from the ground, beginning in the field behind the strangers and expanding to wrap around their feet. He is still unsure of the intentions of the one in chains, so he includes him in the area of the spell.
Bjorn's attack is lazily dodged
Save
Save
Save
Fail
The two not dazed, swing at their previous target, with their swords. But seeing their boss disarmed and starry eyed, made them lose their ability to swing straight
Stepping up once more, laughing now that he senses a real fight is up for grabs, Aðalbjörn again feints with his spear before driving his heavy shield at the unarmed man in from of him.
Smashing his shield into the man's already dazed jaw.
Dvallar raises her shield and pushes forward - then spits over the top into her opponents eyes.
Had the man been locked properly into position it might have worked, but the unarmed man was swaying like a drunkard, head dropped to look at where his falchion had been a moment before, and simply took the spittle on the cheek.
Helle gives the baddie on the left the evil eye. She continues to try to calm the girls as the fight goes on.