Stigwold Mæch'Hæmmær's page

<Stig shucks his armor and dives into the bulette with a dagger, hewing off plates. He barfs several times.>

What was the result of the d20 roll? It's not apparent.......

WTF?

1d20 + 15 ⇒ (7) + 15 = 22

1d20+15 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (3, 3) + 24 = 30

I finally had to log into the remote desktop on a US server. Now I get my pages in 2 minutes instead of 10 or more.

Just ignore that i don't make sense. ANything I post is based on seeing this page 30 minutes before I post. SO how many attacks this round?

Just use Stig's fumble above. I think you'll need one extra attack for haste:

atthaste 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (10) + 20 = 30
damhaste 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (4, 6) + 24 = 34

Fumble! Looks like the booze is hitting Stig hard. Hopefully he doesn't get "swallied" up again.

Yah you don't need these now, but maybe later.

att1 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (1) + 20 = 21
dam1 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (1, 4) + 24 = 29
att2 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (16) + 15 = 31
dam2 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (2, 4) + 24 = 30

I just noticed Pip's post that we take +2. I only to +1 to hit. F@*~ it takes me 5-10 minutes to download a page.

Sorry I couldn't connect after my last post.

att1 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (3) + 20 = 23
dam1 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (5, 1) + 24 = 30
att2 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (9) + 15 = 24
dam2 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (1, 3) + 24 = 28

Stiggy's up, everybody's up; Stiggy's first but I don't see the point of waiting on protocol if somebody else has a move ready....huzzah!!!

No worries. Busy work day.

<Stiggy let's go of the rope and charges the bulette.>

Hasted? ummm, move... then... not a full attack so no haste bonus right?

Stigwold Mæch'Hæmmær wrote:

<Stig barfs.>

"Criminey. Wa diz thes aye happen when aam blooter'd?"

Ottar: "So much for the famed dwarven constitution.....blecch, mboy?!?"

"What. Ave ye ne'er seen anyain clare their heed efter tois days ay stoaner swallyin', striplin'?"

most of them are standing and staring in awe, or losing control of their bodily functions.

<Stig barfs.>

"Criminey. Wa diz thes aye happen when aam blooter'd?"

It makes Stiggy want to barf even more than hoisting the wagon does.

<Looks at the grouns and blinks.>

"Main be th' rum."

I guess I can't just let go of the rope... right?

Altai nods at the big northerner's story. "Let's get this wheel back on your carriage. If we get a pulley rigged in those tall branches, you and Stig can pull the wagon up high enough to put the heel back on. That way, everyone should be happy."

Strength: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

<Stig half-heatedly yanks the wagon up.>

...

"Beard of Utgard Loki, dwarf!" the northman booms; "do you even get out of bed in the morning ere you go to saucing yourself?!?!"

He flexes his massive biceps; "wee my ass!!! I could rip a gorgon's horns slap the f#%@ off his head!!!"

<Blinks and looks up into the sky.>

"Maurning?"

<Rifles through his pack again, counting bottles. Nods his head.>

"Ahhhhh. Tha' axplains et."

At that; Ottar kinda laughs a little;

"so do you s!!* diamonds too, dwarf? We'll all live like kings if you do!"

"A dwarf'a shats diamond. Aye 'at is a grain a thooght ye hae thaur, wee lad."

<Pulls another flask out of his backpack and resumes intoxicating himself.>

...

The viking looks over the dwarf.
"Oh,....you're stronger than me then?"
he flexes his lats; they spring out like wings from the sides of his sleeveless jerkin.

The first speaker, the lounger, tells the viking "EY! Be nice; these guys look to pack a arsenal from here."

The viking tells him to cowboy up rather vulgarly...

*HIC*

<Stig sways a bit, squints and blinks a few times to focus on the viking, and then spits out some broken glass and blood from his tree collision.>

"Aye."

Thanks a f%!#ing bundle for that, Stiggy.

<Stig stumbles into a tree, almost driving a brandy flask down his throat.>

Poor Stig. Do you not pity him?

...

The cajun-elf smiles at Stig. "Clear 'nuff chere?"

<Scratches his head.>

"Tha's a serioos speech empedament ye hae, laddie."

<Stig clatters along a good distance behind.>

Stealth: 1d20 - 5 ⇒ (17) - 5 = 12
Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 9

<Swings his rooster codpiece open and pokes at his tender hernia.>

"So, I've been thinking a bit." Altai waits for the groans to die down before continuing. "Who can our heart-stealing nemesis be? We have two sets of clues - one concerning his motives, and another concerning his capabilities. ... Think about it - an invisible, and thus by definition unnatural, creature employed by the giants as an agent of havoc. Makes sense, no?"

<To Elgan: "Ah hae tae say 'at Ah didne kin a wuid ay 'at. Whit th' freck es 'e talkin' abit?"

"That's some c%~!."

"Ken et, laddie."

<Stig proceeds to get plastered while waiting for the call to action.>

"Tharstin?"

<Offers up whatever rotgut he happens to have at the moment.>

...

<Sometime later he accidentally quaffs one of his enlarge person pots and destroys whatever furniture he was slumped in.>

<After another half day at the armorer's, Stig strides back in sporting a huge codpiece (hanging out obtrusively even below his already humongous breast & belly plate: it features a gaudy, stylized rooster).>

"Hey, you like new clothes? Me think look really cool. Me really like thing on knob, though maybe too small. What you think?"

<Stig glances at Gittik's codpiece and bling, then snorts and does an about face--he heads back to the armorer to get the bulge in his new platemail increased.>

Stig has new bling bling. All his magic stuff is hard pimpin', gold flashin', loud ass jewelery like he's from Jersey or something. He gets a gold tooth, too. And yah if it was a slot I'd put some magic in there.

I was wrong. We have more. Cool.

9783 gp, 3 silver and 4 copper to everyone

Still thinking... ok, actually busy as all hell.

I'll take it if nobody wants it. Was 11 hits from death last bout. Seems I'm the sponge.

<Nodding at the lady dwarf, nudges Beldan in the ribs and mutters ...>

"Noo she's richt hot, ye ken whit aam sayin' laddie? Swatch at 'er silken beard."

<Pats Beldan on the shoulder overly hard, enough to knock him down.>

Stigwold Mæch'Hæmmær wrote:

<Stig tries hopelessly to suck his gut in.>

The dwarfwife laughs; "Ye've a need o training physick, you do!"

The little archer says, "sssssssh! He beat The Scarlet Shroud!"

"Aye. An' mebbe a wee less rum an' wild boar. Ur nae. Ah wooldnae want tae weaken myself. Aam loch a precision Gnomish clockwark, ye ken."

<Smiles like a GQ man, then tries to lean on his hammer but ends up almost falling over.>

<Stig tries hopelessly to suck his gut in.>

"You mean WOMEN, ye daft tairt!" huffs the dwarven wrassler.

<Stiggy winks at her.>

For the hag who dropped me:

att1 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (18) + 19 = 37
dam1 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (2, 1) + 24 = 27
att2 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31
dam2 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (1, 6) + 24 = 31

"None of us fear death. For it is the purview of our goddess;" the priestess retorts.

Elgan's up.

<Shrugs.>

"Hey, et's yer funeral, lassie."

"Surrender or face the Sword, the Axe and the Kukris!"

Hehe. I've been using a hammer since the Pathfinder conversion. Teehee.

In case I have an action left after getting healed and standing up:

**COUGH, COUGH**

"Aff me dug! Ah've fowk tae mince."

<Stands up.>

Anyone beside me?

Stiggy:
** spoiler omitted **

...

The fall of the Scarlet Shroud has clouded her reasoning...

Oops!

That's 86+28? Stig goes down. That was almost a death....

<The floor shakes as Stiggy drops like a elephant carcass.>

Fort: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (12) + 12 = 24

Stig took 86;

11--lucha libra dwarf kick in the head
21-cone of cold
26--ltning bolt
28--scarlet shroud

Roger that.

<Stig nods at the cloud of red mist where the knight once was and speaks...>

"'At was th' auld Mackhammar joos shot, laddie."

Did you see that? 19s again. Epic, man... totally epic. Blame Ross.

177 hits.

crit1 conf 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (19) + 19 = 38
crit1 dam x2 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (4, 6) + 24 = 34
crit1 dam x3 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (1, 4) + 24 = 29
crit2 conf 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (19) + 14 = 33
crit2 dam x2 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (6, 1) + 24 = 31
crit2 dam x3 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (1, 1) + 24 = 26

What a waste of crits....

Stig takes 58 total.

<Stig attacks the knight. 2H PA with the earthbreaker.>

att1 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (19) + 19 = 38
dam1 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (3, 2) + 24 = 29
att2 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (20) + 14 = 34
dam2 2d6 + 24 ⇒ (3, 1) + 24 = 28

26 h.p. in damage unless d.c. 15 reflex save.

Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

...

she flies down, kicks him in the head for 11 h.p. in damage...
Stiggy takes 42 in damage or 21 in damage if he makes a 17 reflex save...

Roger that. Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

Perception 1d20 ⇒ 18
Stealth 1d20 - 6 ⇒ (17) - 6 = 11

<Stig picks up Tensor does a few graceful circles around the room like Peter Pan. Tensor's face changes into a human's and exclaims "I'm a real boy!" then changes back.>