Warlords: Blood, Blade and Bounty (Inactive)

Game Master Brian Minhinnick

Vikings versus Romans, 890 AD fantasy Earth.

The warlord weaves his web of fear,
Each man receives his fated share:
A blood-red sun is the warrior's shield,
The eagle scans the battle field.

-Egil Skallagrimsson

Roll20


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You have all been chained together in the same communal cell dressed in nothing but filthy, tattered rags. Manhandled and mistreated, any finery you once possessed is either ruined or long lost. No special treatment has been given any prisoner – male or female, commoner or noble – all of the condemned are bound and imprisoned together. Your feet are secured by iron cuffs tethered by one long chain. Your arms are secured to the wall above by manacles. A guard is posted right outside the cell day and night. Little thought is given to long term accommodations. In Rome, justice comes swift and sure.

Escape seems hopeless. You have all been well searched and every attempt to conceal anything on your person has failed. And if you could somehow slip your bonds and fly out of this prison, where would you go? You former Jarl is dead, his crews scattered. You have no ship, you have no crew, and you are a long way from the shores of your northern homelands. Despised, alone and shackled – all that you can do now is await your doom, hoping that the Norns have woven a different fate for you than an ignominious death with no sword in your hand.

Your cell is dark (can barely see each other), you can only move a foot or so in either direction. Please describe and introduce yourselves. When describing your height remember that the average man of this era was probably 5'7ish as opposed to 5'10" for the average American of today. Once everyone has checked in and made any escape attempts they want to make, I will move us on.


HP: 5/14 | Stamina: 0/4
Stats:
(AC 17, T 13, FF 14) | CMD 16 | Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +0 | Init +5 | Percept +5

Right in the middle of the line of prisoners is a young woman standing about 5'3" tall. She has clearly seen battle, her body bruised in lots of places. Her reddish brown hair hangs down over her face and shoulders, and her arms are clearly growing tired from hanging up so long. Though, this doesn't diminish her will, as she continuously works to try to slip them from their bindings...her eyes glaring through her hair, never leaving the guard at their door

Escape Artist: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
Studied Target on the guard...for what that matters...lol


Male Shaman HP 11 | AC:17 | T:11 | FF:16 | CMB +0 | CMD:11 | Fort:+0 | Ref:+1 | Will:+6 | Init:+1| Spellcraft +6 | Pers +8 | Surv +8 |

Oh, a darky spot you’re in, boy, murmed the darkly 'orner.

“I ain’t ’fraid o’ you...” the darkly skin' man murm'red to 'iself. Kellan the Unluky 'n' Lucky makes no 'tempt be 'scaped. Chains 'n' locks 'n' beatin' 'n' rags 'ere 'ong lost fri'nds.

In better days, here is how he looks like: Reference


HP 9/9 | Song 3/9 | Stamina 1/1 | 1st 2/2 | AC 17 Touch 11 FF 16 CMD 14 | Fort +3 Ref +1 Will +2 | Initiative +1 | Perception +4

An average height of 5'7" is 2 inches shorter than the Pathfinder Human random heights. So if we keep the same distribution, this setting's Human maximum would be 6'4". Sound OK?

Óbjarni had tested his bonds, once his captors had left him hanging but didn't continue to unsuccessfully bang them against the stone. His battle wounds apparently were superficial. The blood stopped running from his head wound after he had regained consciousness and stopped the world from spinning.

At 6'1", Óbjarni stands taller than an average Northman but definitely not the tallest. His full, now scraggly red mustache and beard and calm, pale gray eyes mark him as a veteran. However, his lean, muscular frame and lack of many combat scars show his youth. After surveying the cell, he closes his eyes to meditate with his gods and listen to his captors.

Perception take 20+4=24


Mystic 5/Investigator 5 | HP 33/33 | AC 19, Touch 12, FF 15 | CMB +4 | CMD 18 | Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +8 | Init +4 | Perception +10 (+12 vs Traps) | Extracts: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3

I thought Norse tended to be tall.

Will is small compared to his Northmen companions. Standing barely 5 feet tall he is not an imposing figure. But not for lack of physique. The poor food has only emphasized his lean build. Years of climbing mountains and chasing prey has left him well toned in the arms and legs. Most of his definition is in the back though. The Northmen don't use bows often so not many know that proper form utilizes the back rather than the arms for accurate shots.

Will's reddish/brown hair has grown long and unruly in captivity, hanging far below his eyes. He uses it to hide his piercing gaze as he continues to search for a way out. Right now he has entered a sort of hunter's trance, completely un-moving. Staring at nothing but perceiving much and able to go long periods of time waiting for an opportune moment.


HP: 13/13, AC: 11, T: 11, FF: 10, F: 4, R: 1, W: 0, CMB 4, CMD 15 ||| Stamina 3/3, Challenge 1/1, Tact 1/1, Per +1, Init +1

Bjorn is an older Nord, being somewhere around the age of 26. He still has a full beard and long hair of ruddy blond, but some grey is beginning to show and he lacks the youthful vigor of some of his younger brethren.
However, Bjorn is still a healthy Nord and stands over 6'2" of solid muscle.
Bjorn has a freshly burnt scar over his right cheek in the shape of an X where his captors branded him as well as numerous battle scars across his arms and shoulders.

Bjorn stands, slightly slumped, at the far end of the line of prisoners, with his right chained to the wall. A large and very fresh scar can be seen etched across his right cheek in the shape of an "X"
He has long since closed his eyes, and seems to be mumbling to himself, perhaps chanting. if you bothered to listen in at all, you might pick up some of this: (and Óbjarni you probably hear everything :)

"In this dank hole devoid of light I curse you gods, I curse you Odin, I curse you Thunar, and Bladur...
If I ever get out of this place, you can kiss the edge of my steel for all I care...
If I ever get out of this place, I will take destiny for my own, in my own hands...
If I ever get out of this place, I will seize the name of the Great Jarl for myself.
If I ever get out of this place, I swear that all would know my name and that them Romans would quake in fear of my presence...
If I ever get out of this place...
..."

and it continues, often repeating itself in an almost drone or mantra...


HP: 5/14 | Stamina: 0/4
Stats:
(AC 17, T 13, FF 14) | CMD 16 | Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +0 | Init +5 | Percept +5

When the man near her mumbles something about being a Great Jarl, Sonja scoffs.

Speaking in the language of her people, she asks, "Guard, do you speak our language?"


HP: 13/13, AC: 11, T: 11, FF: 10, F: 4, R: 1, W: 0, CMB 4, CMD 15 ||| Stamina 3/3, Challenge 1/1, Tact 1/1, Per +1, Init +1

I should probably mention this, but Bjorn is speaking in Norse, and its the only language he can speak :)


HP: 5/14 | Stamina: 0/4
Stats:
(AC 17, T 13, FF 14) | CMD 16 | Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +0 | Init +5 | Percept +5

If it's just bold, I'm speaking (and assuming the others are) in Norse.


Norse do tend to be tall, but Charlemagne was considered a "giant of a man" and archeological evidence suggests he was 6' or 6'1". There probably were people 6'4"-6'6" tall, but they would be freaks. Like the tallest person most people had ever seen, constantly bumping their heads, not fitting clothes, chairs, etc. I am 6'4" living in China where the average is around 5'7"..definitely feel like a giant sometimes. Not setting height limits here (within reason), just setting expectations.


Sonja "Abal" Bjornsdottr wrote:

When the man near her mumbles something about being a Great Jarl, Sonja scoffs.

Speaking in the language of her people, she asks, "Guard, do you speak our language?"

Actually, there are two guards, but they are currently not in the cell room. They come to check periodically.


HP: 13/13, AC: 11, T: 11, FF: 10, F: 4, R: 1, W: 0, CMB 4, CMD 15 ||| Stamina 3/3, Challenge 1/1, Tact 1/1, Per +1, Init +1

The mumbling from the man chained up next to you stops, Then his head slowly raises and starts to stare right at you (directed at Sonja), Finally speaking.
One of them Christian Romans degrading themselves to our level and moreso, speaking our language? Bjorn then spits onto the ground
HA! I doubt it. They would never deign from speaking the language of the Angels.
He speaks in a bitter tone, seemingly especially disgusted at the thought of their religion.

Just for the record, I am Christian :) Any slander towards them in here is meant only in the essence of play, and i mean none of it. but i will still try and keep it minor, mostly to the level of displeasure.


Sonja struggles against the chains and fetters, but only manages to nearly dislocate her thumbs, and rub the skin off her wrists. Though she can't see very well, the lack of answer tells her the guards are currently in their guard room.

Please bold speech and italicize thoughts.


A group of six guards, heavily armed and ready for trouble, come into the cell led by a chubby well-dressed Decanus (sergeant). Every one of the prisoners recognizes Decanus Valentinus Lactuca. This was the man who held the brand that marked each of them. He laughed as their skin burned. Right now, though the Decanus seems a little dazed.

Sense Motive DC 25:
The Decanus appears to be under the effect of some enchantment or sorcery.

“You there! Ut 'nec nitri spuma!” the Decanus says in mixture of badly accented Norse and Latin, pointing at Objarni. "Get eum vestíti,” he commands his guards. Turning to the other prisoners he warns, "If any of you makes trouble, they’ll earn a whipping!”

Latin:
That's the scum...get him unchained...

Valentinus Lactuca snarls at Objarni. "Today’s your lucky day, scum. You've got a visitor. How you ever warranted a proper Roman lady is beyond me. Seems she wants to say good-bye. Now step lively. We wouldn't want to keep her waiting.”

Objarni has no idea what he's talking about.

The guards open the door to the cell, and with four of them holding spathae (longswords) to the necks of everyone except Objarni, they nod to the other two guards. Those two enter the cell, and unchain Objanri from the rest, leaving the his hands and feet chained together. They half drag, half carry him from the cell. The other four guards back warily from the cell, eyes and weapons on the prisoners the whole time. They drag Objarni from the room.

Objarni:

You are dragged out of the cell room and down the hall to the guard chamber, and then through a lefthand door into a small meeting room. There waiting for you is a hauntingly beautiful woman in an elegant black Roman dress and soft, white silken veil. She looks as if she is headed to a funeral. Her hair is black and curly, her eyes the color of a doe’s fur in autumn. She clearly has been weeping.

”Oh, dearest,” proclaims the unfamiliar woman. “I’m so relieved you’re alive!” She quickly turns to Valentinus. “Possemus solo placet paululum bone? Commiseratione causa?”

Valentinus goes blank for a bit and then quickly agrees. “Utique domina mi. Vos enim iam non habet difficultatem.”

As soon as the guards leave, the woman’s demeanor immediately changes. She drops all pretense of grief or concern. She is immediately all business. Her face melts and changes before Objarni’s eyes. Now, her hair is so platinum as to almost be white and her eyes are a vibrant almost unearthly blue.

”Have you forgotten me, dearest?” the unexpected visitor says with a smirk, dropping her pretense of grief. “No matter, we’ve never met. The gods have heard your prayers, mortal. They see what the red mens’ nailed god does to their people. They see, and they are angry. Their white Christ, the“one true God” seeks to usurp all of Midgard, and all the realms beyond for himself. The Aesir and Vanir will not give up their plan for Midgard so easily. Fate has chosen you and your cellmates as their instruments. You must escape,” she says. Seeing the look on Objarni’s face, she laughs and puts one finger to his lips. He finds himself unable to speak. ”Don’t be so suprised. Just because it’s never been done before is no reason you can’t be the first.”

“If you manage to escape, flee to the sea. The few remaining ships of Ubba’s fleet lie there under light guard. Take a ship for yourselves, and use it to make a fortune. Seize your destiny and strike fear into the hearts of the Romans. Take their land, and bleed them dry until you are called to Valhalla. This is the will of Odin. He bade me give you this,” She takes off her silken veil and wipes away a few fake tears with it, then hands it to Objarni.

“Something to remember me by,” she smirks again. Her message delivered, she rises, her face shifting back to that of the Roman woman. She raps on the door, and the guards open it. “No, I can’t bear to leave you!” she cries melodramatically. She gives Objarni a kiss on the cheek. The kiss tingles and feels somehow alien and inhuman.

Valentinus shakes his head. ”Metuo tempus, mauris.”

She looks deep in Valentinus's eyes and says, “Lorem mihi renuntiare pati. Non opus est quaerere carissima. Talis es mihi carissimus amicus semel pati.”

“Et tale bonum amicus,” Valentinus repeats, his voice almost mechanical. Then the Decanus seems to snap out of it and bows politely. “A pleasure, Mulier,”

The mysterious woman leaves unveiled. Her eyes meet Objarni's one last time and she briefly gives him an unearthly smile. “Three days,” her voice echoes in his mind. “That is all that the gods can give you.” The visitation concluded, the mysterious woman is escorted away.

Latin:
Could we please have a moment alone, good sir? For pity’s sake?....Of course, my lady. For you,’ tis no problem....I’m afraid it’s time, miss...Thank you for letting me say good-bye. There’s no need to search my dearest. You are such a good friend for letting me see my dearest one more time....Such a good friend...A pleasure, Madame...

Objarni is taken back to his cell by a cadre of guards and shackled once more. Except now he is in possession of the woman's veil.


HP: 13/13, AC: 11, T: 11, FF: 10, F: 4, R: 1, W: 0, CMB 4, CMD 15 ||| Stamina 3/3, Challenge 1/1, Tact 1/1, Per +1, Init +1

The guards appear, and Bjorns eyes snap forward. Cold. Hard. Calculating.
He immediately recognized the one that had branded him, and his cheek burned with pain once more, Towards this one he held his hate... Nothing to be done now...

When Objarni returns, carrying with him a veil and the scent of a woman, Bjorn is genuinely surprised. It was a woman? Well now young lad, im impressed! Tell me, what was your name again?
If he offers his, Bjorn replies with his own, Ah. I would be Bjorn Brægrim, Blood relative to the Great King Rangar Lothbrok.
Then, with a twinkle in his eye, And that lass, ya fancy? Lucky lad.


HP: 5/14 | Stamina: 0/4
Stats:
(AC 17, T 13, FF 14) | CMD 16 | Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +0 | Init +5 | Percept +5

Sonja's eyes are also boring into the man that had branded them. This one will die before I do...so help me...I will see it done if it is the last thing I do...

Sonja listens to the bold man's introduction. It kindles a sharp, painful thought of her father.

Is this how my father died? Chained like a dog, tortured, denied a warrior's death? No, I won't believe it. He awaits me in Valhalla, I know it!

Holding her emotions in check, she says in return, once she is certain the guards have left, "Sonja Bjornsdottr, is my name, ironically enough. Perhaps instead of basking in the wonder of his conjugal visit, we work together to get free and take a few of these Roman's to the grave on our way to Valhalla?"


Mystic 5/Investigator 5 | HP 33/33 | AC 19, Touch 12, FF 15 | CMB +4 | CMD 18 | Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +8 | Init +4 | Perception +10 (+12 vs Traps) | Extracts: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3

Behind a veil of dirty hair, Will watches great intensity. The Dacanus that branded him, he seemed off but the ranger couldn't think of why. He watches with interest as they pull one of their number away, only to return sometime later. For the first time since they got in here he shifts his head to pay attention to the Northman Objarni. Something was up. Something changed. Instinct told him to be ready to move.


Male Shaman HP 11 | AC:17 | T:11 | FF:16 | CMB +0 | CMD:11 | Fort:+0 | Ref:+1 | Will:+6 | Init:+1| Spellcraft +6 | Pers +8 | Surv +8 |

Dice: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

Kellan observe the guards and the sergeant, and say nothing for the moment, waiting until the man return.


HP 9/9 | Song 3/9 | Stamina 1/1 | 1st 2/2 | AC 17 Touch 11 FF 16 CMD 14 | Fort +3 Ref +1 Will +2 | Initiative +1 | Perception +4

Óbjarni is stunned during and after the meeting. A minute or so after Bjorn and Sonja speak, he answers, "Óbjarni, my name is Óbjarni. (Ó, means the opposite of, and –bjarni for young baby. Even as an infant, he was deemed not a baby.) My prayers have been answered by the gods. We have three days to escape to the sea. The ships are only lightly guarded. She gave me this veil to remember her." He studies the veil.

Perception take 20+4=25


I will respond to Objarni soon as I get some time to write a proper post. Might not be until tomorrow.


HP: 13/13, AC: 11, T: 11, FF: 10, F: 4, R: 1, W: 0, CMB 4, CMD 15 ||| Stamina 3/3, Challenge 1/1, Tact 1/1, Per +1, Init +1

Óbjarni, eh? So you are not young. Bjorn chuckles a bit at his own joke.
3 days eh? Well the ships are all fine and dandy, its the getting to them bit that I think we will have troubles with. Do you have a plan? or did your lass give you any hints? Wait. Shhhh.
Bjorn goes deadly quiet for a moment, then speaks again, even more of a hushed tone this time.
thought I heard the guards. We will have to keep this quiet. You lot, start picking your brains.


Mystic 5/Investigator 5 | HP 33/33 | AC 19, Touch 12, FF 15 | CMB +4 | CMD 18 | Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +8 | Init +4 | Perception +10 (+12 vs Traps) | Extracts: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3

3 days? At tall order. First things first though. Need a lot of men just to row one of those things.

How many of the 500 are left alive?


Male Shaman HP 11 | AC:17 | T:11 | FF:16 | CMB +0 | CMD:11 | Fort:+0 | Ref:+1 | Will:+6 | Init:+1| Spellcraft +6 | Pers +8 | Surv +8 |

Kellan the Unlucky ‘n’ Lucky eyed the others and thinked to ‘imself She gived? Ain’t ‘em thinkerin’ too much ‘trange?
”Kellan I am called. She y’u said? Who she is? An’ wha’ veil she'd gived?”


Will Erland wrote:

3 days? At tall order. First things first though. Need a lot of men just to row one of those things.

How many of the 500 are left alive?

Far as you know, 5, and they are all in this cell. However, it's very very likely that many more fled the battlefield and are now scattered across Brittania and the North, looking for another master to lead them to silver and plunder of fat Roman towns. There is never a shortage of hungry, violent men and women around, just a shortage of treasure to employ them all.


Óbjarni wrote:

Óbjarni is stunned during and after the meeting. A minute or so after Bjorn and Sonja speak, he answers, "Óbjarni, my name is Óbjarni. (Ó, means the opposite of, and –bjarni for young baby. Even as an infant, he was deemed not a baby.) My prayers have been answered by the gods. We have three days to escape to the sea. The ships are only lightly guarded. She gave me this veil to remember her." He studies the veil.

Perception take 20+4=25

This appears to be a fine silk veil of gossamer cloth. Only as it is held and closely inspected can you see small cloth patches of various shapes. The patches are as follows: one potion bottle, a pull-string bag, two daggers, a set of lock picking tools, a window, a rope, and a lantern. In the center of the veil is an embroidered image of Yggdrasil, the world tree which supports the seven realms, and by whose roots the Norns sit to weave the fates of mortals.


HP 9/9 | Song 3/9 | Stamina 1/1 | 1st 2/2 | AC 17 Touch 11 FF 16 CMD 14 | Fort +3 Ref +1 Will +2 | Initiative +1 | Perception +4

Óbjarni ignores Bjorn's comment on his name and wonders if should start calling him Bear. After inspecting the veil he whispers, "Veils are metaphors for Galdur (aka Norse trickery magic), so there is probably something magically hidden. There appears to be small cloth patches on the veil of various shapes: a bottle, a pull-string bag, two daggers, a set of lock picking tools, a window, a rope, and a lantern. Can any of you pick the locks on our manacles if you had tools?"

Don't know if they used metaphors back then, but it's fantasy.
* Can we pass the veil between us while locked to the wall? Could we pass small items between us while locked to the wall?
* What is the pattern of guards' visits?
* Do we know where our cell is within the prison? Does our cell have an exterior wall?


Yes; yes; hard to say you have no way to tell time there are no windows; no; you don't know.


HP 9/9 | Song 3/9 | Stamina 1/1 | 1st 2/2 | AC 17 Touch 11 FF 16 CMD 14 | Fort +3 Ref +1 Will +2 | Initiative +1 | Perception +4

When Will Erland affirms that he can disable the locks with tools and maybe introduces himself, Óbjarni rips off the small cloth patch of the set of lock picking tools. Then, he passes the set of tools to the next prisoner toward Will and whispers, "be careful with these. Pass them along. They are our keys to freedom."


Mystic 5/Investigator 5 | HP 33/33 | AC 19, Touch 12, FF 15 | CMB +4 | CMD 18 | Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +8 | Init +4 | Perception +10 (+12 vs Traps) | Extracts: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3

"Do we have tools?" says a voice from beneath the mane of hair. He appears to be staring at the veil with interest.

-Posted with Wayfinder


Mystic 5/Investigator 5 | HP 33/33 | AC 19, Touch 12, FF 15 | CMB +4 | CMD 18 | Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +8 | Init +4 | Perception +10 (+12 vs Traps) | Extracts: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3

its probably exactly what we think but i would prefer to wait for the dm to confirm.

-Posted with Wayfinder


HP: 13/13, AC: 11, T: 11, FF: 10, F: 4, R: 1, W: 0, CMB 4, CMD 15 ||| Stamina 3/3, Challenge 1/1, Tact 1/1, Per +1, Init +1

So Objar would have to pass it to me, then I would pass it to Sonja, then she would pass it to Will.
Bjorn Scoffs at the notion of Galdur and his magic. Ha. I aint never seen any magic aside from the parlor tricks done by the Seers back home. Bunch o cheats and liars they be. Theres nothing to it.
Next thing he knows, there is a set of tools being passed right under his nose that defiantly weren't there before, and his eyes widen in bewilderment.
Musta missed somethin. a trick of the light? must be a trick... He mumbles to himself, unwilling to accept it.

Just realized as well ^-^ We have me, Bjorn, we have Sonja Bjornsdottr, and we have Óbjarni ^-^
And Óbjarni calling me Bear sounds like fun :) It also really sounds like Sonja is my daughter....


HP: 5/14 | Stamina: 0/4
Stats:
(AC 17, T 13, FF 14) | CMD 16 | Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +0 | Init +5 | Percept +5

Ya...try and make that claim...see what happens. :-P

Sonja takes the magic tools and pauses with them in her small hand.

Do I trust this one to be capable enough to do this...I'm trusting him with my life...but then, so are the others...

She then carefully hands them to Will, saying "Don't let us down. Our lives are literally in your hands."


Yes, the patches peel off and become the thing they represent.


Mystic 5/Investigator 5 | HP 33/33 | AC 19, Touch 12, FF 15 | CMB +4 | CMD 18 | Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +8 | Init +4 | Perception +10 (+12 vs Traps) | Extracts: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3

If the ragged looking ranger heard you he makes no gesture to indicate so. He merely takes the tools and gets to work. "Watch for guards," he says with an accent. Norse was not his first language. He stops paying attention to the others in order to focus on the unfamiliar locks. His expertise was in traps but it was easy to apply the mechanical knowledge over.

Take 10 for 18 or 20 for 28 if that isn't enough.

Once his are done he moves to the next person but warns them to leave the manacles on in case the guards return.

Take 10 for 18 or 20 for 28 if that isn't enough.

If he gets done on everyone before the guards arrive he waits for them to make a pass that way he has the maximum amount of time to work on the door.

Disable Device: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26


Will's first attempt fails, and he makes a clinking noise. One of the guards outside the cell chamber says, "War dat 'ne Ratte?"

Saxon (proto-german):
Was that a rat?

Will freezes, and waits tensely over the course of a few breaths. The guards say nothing further, so he goes back to work, taking his time this attempt. He works slowly and methodically, decoding the location of the tumblers by feeling alone. After a couple of minutes he is rewarded with a satisfying click, and the manacles open. He quickly and quietly moves to the others. Their chains he finds easier to open, since the locks are all the same, and it takes him only a few seconds at each person. He has never used such high quality tools before. They gleam even in the low light of the cell, and are formed of such clean lines and curves that they were surely forged by dwarves or the gods themselves.

They are masterwork thieves' tools (+2 to DD). So, all your chains are unlocked without the guards noticing. What now?


HP: 5/14 | Stamina: 0/4
Stats:
(AC 17, T 13, FF 14) | CMD 16 | Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +0 | Init +5 | Percept +5

Sonja lets her arms fall to her side as they finally can relax in their normal position. She rubs the raw skin of her wrists to try to soothe the pain there.

"As much as I would like to see these Roman scum dead...the vengeance I seek is on a grander scale. One that requires armies. So, if these patches are magical, I suggest we use the window to open a path out and then use the rope to escape if need be."


Mystic 5/Investigator 5 | HP 33/33 | AC 19, Touch 12, FF 15 | CMB +4 | CMD 18 | Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +8 | Init +4 | Perception +10 (+12 vs Traps) | Extracts: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3

That would be a 20 on take 10 then but I guess its DC 25.

Is it night?

"Knife," Will demands more than asks. He points at the veil, remembering that Objarni mentioned daggers.


While manacled you had a -2 penalty, and after completing the first lock you got a +2 competence bonus.


HP: 13/13, AC: 11, T: 11, FF: 10, F: 4, R: 1, W: 0, CMB 4, CMD 15 ||| Stamina 3/3, Challenge 1/1, Tact 1/1, Per +1, Init +1

Bjorn is mighty impressed when Will unlocks himself, and even more when he gets him down. a look of malice in his eyes as he realizes that escape might be more then just a fevered dream. As he takes stock of Will, and giving him a nod of approval despite not being a nord, he rubs his sore wrists.
Wait, did you say you had KNIVES??? I have an idea. Hand me one as well. Then, everyone put your hands back up like you are still chained. Next we make a fuss about someone in here stinking horribly, and when the guard comes in, we shank him.
He then pauses for a moment, contemplating.
If he doesnt come in, then we shank him while the rest of you keep moaning. Cover the noise.
Final bit of the plan, Who speaks latin? you dress up as the roman scum and take his place, then keep a lookout.


HP: 13/13, AC: 11, T: 11, FF: 10, F: 4, R: 1, W: 0, CMB 4, CMD 15 ||| Stamina 3/3, Challenge 1/1, Tact 1/1, Per +1, Init +1

Bjorn scoffs slightly at Sonja Daughter. There is no windows here, theres bairly enough light to see anything with. We could take quite a while to even find one. But I do like the sound of your Vengance. I might have to see that one. He gives a bit of a laughing grunt.
He still doesnt get the magic part ^-^ and I had to call you Daughter of mine ^^


Am I to assume these conversations are happening at normal volume?


Mystic 5/Investigator 5 | HP 33/33 | AC 19, Touch 12, FF 15 | CMB +4 | CMD 18 | Fort +3, Ref +7, Will +8 | Init +4 | Perception +10 (+12 vs Traps) | Extracts: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3

If he tries to.

Will crosses the distance from him to Bjorn in the blink of an eye. One hand goes to the fools mouth and the other to his own in a gesture of silence. He then puts the mans wrist back in the manacles but doesn't lock them. If it sounds like the guards are coming he hops back over to his spot and places his hands in the cuffs, angrily staring at Bjorn.


HP: 13/13, AC: 11, T: 11, FF: 10, F: 4, R: 1, W: 0, CMB 4, CMD 15 ||| Stamina 3/3, Challenge 1/1, Tact 1/1, Per +1, Init +1

At one point, I did say i was whispering, but I guess that the volume could have gradually increased with hushed excitement :/
Still, I am trying to keep quiet with my words and actions. Should I roll a stealth check?


No, as long as you are meant to be whispering that's fine. Whispered conversation won't draw the guards.


HP: 5/14 | Stamina: 0/4
Stats:
(AC 17, T 13, FF 14) | CMD 16 | Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +0 | Init +5 | Percept +5

Have we seen any female Roman soldiers?


No, they do no allow their women to fight. However, it's common amongst the non-Christian peoples.


HP: 5/14 | Stamina: 0/4
Stats:
(AC 17, T 13, FF 14) | CMD 16 | Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +0 | Init +5 | Percept +5

Didn't think so, but wanted to make sure.

Sonja's eyes lock onto Bjorn, their gaze sharper than any dagger, but she holds her tongue for now...

"I speak their tongue, but I doubt that helps. Their women lack the spine and spirit for combat, I've never seen a woman among their legions."


HP 9/9 | Song 3/9 | Stamina 1/1 | 1st 2/2 | AC 17 Touch 11 FF 16 CMD 14 | Fort +3 Ref +1 Will +2 | Initiative +1 | Perception +4

Óbjarni thanks Will when he unlocks his manacles and then peels off the two daggers. He hands one to Sonja and keeps one himself. (Sorry guys, he doesn't trust you yet) Then he whispers, "Sonja, I like your plan with the window, but we must be certain the wall goes to the outside."

He then peels off the bag and looks inside. "We could pretend to be manacled when the next guard visits. Or Will could unlock our cell door and we could jump them when they enter the room."


The bag turns out to be a heavy purse, full of Roman minted gold coins. It is a substantial sum of money, more than most farmers would see in their whole lives, but not yet enough to make the prisoners rich. In exchange for the gold they might net a few swords, or perhaps a suit of mail armor. Or they might hire a few warriors to crew a ship for a month or two, depending on the caliber of the fighters.
________________________________________

I forgot to mention this before, but there is another house rule I want to put into effect. Helmets are now a thing you can wear separately or with armor. Wearing a helmet provides you a +2 helmet bonus to AC only against critical hit confirmation rolls.

Further, most of the economy is based on barter. Money is only used for major purchases. My point in saying this is that money in this game is not going to function as loot acquisition like it normally does in PFRPG. It will work more as a means to expand you power. I mean, if you buy chainmail, a longsword, a shield, a helmet (good luck finding a store..) and you basically have the best military technology available.

There aren't really magic items, if there are they aren't for sale. After you've fully equipped yourselves, all the money you get is going to go into hiring and equipping men, building yourselves halls on your conquered lands and the rest. We may eventually get into some small mass combat, depending on what you guys do. After you acquire a ship, it's going to be sandboxy for a while.


HP 9/9 | Song 3/9 | Stamina 1/1 | 1st 2/2 | AC 17 Touch 11 FF 16 CMD 14 | Fort +3 Ref +1 Will +2 | Initiative +1 | Perception +4

Óbjarni secured the coin purse into his prisoner's rags. He was a bit disappointed hoping for a pinch of wool to focus his Töfrar.

"Considering the guards heard Will's tinkering, I don't think all of us will be able to sneak out of the cell. We could hold our manacles above our heads looking locked up and jump the guard when he inspects us inside the cell. We just need to put down the guards before they can raise the alarm."

Maybe Kellen and Óbjarni can focus on the far guard with Sleep and Lullaby, while the others use the daggers on the guard in the cell.

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