You all are in a crowd of what will be a raiding party from the Ironbound Islands to The Broken Bay.
The captain, a small human named Augun calls out Welcome all men. Today we raid the Broken Bay like we would raid anyone else. Today We WILL BE CHAMPOINS!!!!
The boat behind him is called the Helgrol. There are maybe 20 other raiders with you. Only 7 see of any interest, or skill.
Soral shrugs, If you say so boss.
Leaning to whoever is beside him he mutters quietly, Well, this isn't how I was intending to spread good throughout the world, but I guess it works.
Olaf laughs. "Good to the world? Successful raids are the first step towards glory and others remembering your name. Its the Ulfen way!
The Broken Bay huh, did White Estrid finally lose her patience with Ingimundr the Unruly?"
He then looks down at the masses with a toothy grin. "Any of the twenty of you, I'll fight you for a spot on the boat! Up to you of course, Cap'n Augun."
As he does so he firmly plants his feet in the ground, and mutters an inaudible prayer to his ancestors.
Hálvr stands listening with the assembled raiders and nudges his new found companion, the tiefling Hiiram with a smile;
"Now friend Hel-blodd. Now we shall go a viking! Har!"
The big skald stands with the ease of one used to the anticipation of violence and adventure. At Olaf's challenge he eyes the muscled brute before answering the half orcs words with his own;
"Save your strength for the folk o' Broken Bay wild one! Plenty of time to trade punches when we divide the loot..."
Hálvr steps forward, throwing a wink at Hiiram as he does. The burly Ulfen raises his great axe high and bellows his claim for an oar:
"I am Hálvr! Named as Grímmrsǫngr. Once of Broken Bay... Now of the Helgrol. I wield the axe Rauðskeggkaðr and to refuse me is to refuse the threads of fate..."
J'Larky tries to find a place out of the way for his slender body to spend time alone. He rolls his eyes at the blustering of the remainder of the crew. They speak loudly, let's see how they perform when the blood is flowing.
You there... umm Soral I believe, States the captain Broken bay is evil. The raid is for the cause of championship and good.
Soral smiles widely, cracking his knuckles and touching the amulet he wears about his neck, Excellent, then let's bring them some flaming good, and make ourselves richer in the process.
Olaf lets out the below, "Of course Hálvr, I think we'll be fast friends! If no one wants to challenge me for a spot, then one is mine! I'm Olaf, originally from Icemark."
He turns to address Soral, "Yeah, those bad people in the Broken Bay, we'll take all their bad things for ourselves..." Olaf states, with clearly no understanding.
Olaf then makes for the boat. he sits down and looks perplexed by the oar, having never been in a boat before. He turns back, "who else will be joining us?"
Aubheroene (Ō-vər-ōn) observes the mostly human crew as if they were a pack of wolves. He had traveled among the humans for several months but still had not yet begun to understand them. He had heard the sadists of Broken Bay were worth raiding, so he followed the captain here. Raiding seems like a popular custom.
The snow elf stands a little apart from the humans with has snow white hair and pupils just observing. His cloaked traveling attire matches local Skaldic customs. He shoulders a full backpack and wears a sturdy leather boots and a multi-pocketed belt with a sheathed dagger. His confidence and lack of heavy weapons mark him as dangerous besides alien.
A silver-haired tiefling is among the gathered raiders. Though he appears hearty and not at all a stranger to battle, his slight frame is easily contrasted against the large Ulfen folk. He stands near Hálvr, arms crossed and a calm look on his face. "I'm called Melech," he states matter-of-factly, "You need somethin' found, you need information, maybe somethin' taken from somebody else, I'm your man." His short, red-scaled tale swishes behind him, and he breaks into a grin, as he continues, "So, let's go a raidin'."
Raiding? What has that cask of beer done this time? By Erastil!
Dalgar groans having kept quiet all this time. He should have known then to have accepted that mug. One mug lead to another and after alot of bawdy singing and bad dancing, he's here among a crew of apparently very eager raiders.
What's worse?
He was one of them as well.......
Resisting the urge to slam his head into the beam closest to him, the burly man settles for a place at the oars, all this time praying to Erastil to perhaps show him what he was doing here?
He travelled often yes but this was taking things abit to far.....maybe his god decided that he was needed to see beyond the far shores?
As you board the ship the captain asks if you have any questions
Olaf speaks up about their destination, despite being entirely unsure about how boat ahead of him will get him there So Capn augun. where exactly will be raiding in the Broken Bay, and how will we be dividing the spoils? Olaf grins as he remembers the mention of fighting over it.
A thin man, dressed well, even foppishly (for Ulfen areas), seems to soak up the ambience of the mix of bluster and confidence.
Questions? Why no, he says, while shaking the captain's hand. I'm Alfred. This raid will be just the thing for the history I'm writing.
Hálvr looks down at the thin, rakish outlander with a bemused expression.
"History? You are a skrifar yes? Let us write our names in blod then little peacock! Har!'
At the captain's request for questions, the big skald shakes his battle braided head;
"Nei Styrimaðr .
He then makes his way to an oar station and begins stowing his gear in the chest-seat.
Aubheroene (Ō-vər-ōn) waits for the answer to Olaf's question which is very pertinent. The captain is amazing in his dearth of information.
He ponders what to ask next.
Taking a seat where ever was available as he waits to hear the outcome of the questions so far....
Spoiles are split by those who get them. We are raiding Skjoldmur.
Olaf chooses to sit next to Hálvr. Olaf tells him "We'll be raiding the fortress of Skjoldmur? Ha. They'll write songs of our deeds for generations!" He says with no clue how formidable a set of walls and archers can be against a raiding party with only 8 true raiders.
Hálvr walks confidently down the line of oar berths toward the Wyrm figurehead upon the longship.
With a hard smile he pats the carved Dragon;then sits at an oar station nearby, but not directly behind...
At Olaf's comment he nods grimly in agreement;
"Skjoldmur?! Hard place. Some hard names in Skjoldmur right enough... We'll earn our names and likely mourn a few too..."
J'Larky will take a quiet seat near the rear of the boat, next to whoever looks big and strong to do most of the work. He'll be seated without a word, and await to see what happens.
Soral walks down the ship until he reaches the middle, where he can gain the best vantage point around the entire ship.
Hiiram picks the seat behind Soral, hoping that the man sitting next to him would be able to make up for his middling strength.
Aubheroene (Ō-vər-ōn) takes the seat next to the mast in the center of the ship and asks the captain, "What can we expect of this place, Skjoldmur?"
Olaf tries to emulate the actions of those around him on the oars, wondering how long it can possibly take to transverse the sea by pushing this stick forward and back endlessly. He complains "I never thought raiding would have so little to do with my sword. How long will it take to reach the walls of this fortress?"
Ye can all expect a good fight, and lots of loot if we succeed. It is probably heavily guarded. Its a good 200 miles away.
After almost three days you reach the shore near Skjoldmur. The sand is cold and hard. As you beach the boat you can see the Fortress. Trumpets in the air give you the feeling they have seen you to.
A group of 15 men wait for you to disembark and are barely visible beyond the nearest hill.
Grab your weapons men! We will be Champions on the battle field today!
Olaf grabs his sword and jumps out onto dry land, " Never thought I'd be so happy to be back on land again. I'd be happy to take point as we approach!"
Hiiram hops off the boat, also glad to be reunited with terra firma, but the exposed position he finds himself in keeps him alert and uncomfortable. A cursory glance of the surroundings proves his fears are not unfounded. "Not t' cut ya off, Captain, but it looks like they're waitin' for us a'ready," the tiefling states, attempting to subtly point at the ridge where a number of men hide, ready to pounce.
Hiiram adjusts his gloves, checking that his gear is all in place. "I hate folk like that," he mentions offhandedly. "Sure, a warm welcome is nice an' all, but there's a limit t' this kind o' thing, ya know?" The Nethian cups a hand to his ear, and attempts to see if he can hear what the welcoming committee is saying to each other.
Effects: Obedience (+4 Concentration checks)
Wizard Spells:
0 (at-will) - acid splash, detect magic, message
1st (4/day) - color spray (1/1), identify (1/1), vanish (1/1)
Alchemist Extracts:
1st (3/day) - expeditious retreat (1/1), shield (1/1)
Alfred gets out of the boat, gets his bow ready and begins to follow others preparing to meet the enemy.
When they land charge. Kill them all. Kill them and take the ship back to the Ironbound Islands for our own raid. I hear they have good women!
They are ready are they? Well then men charge! The captain raises his axe, and jumps off the boat, as do the others.
The sand below you cuts into your boots. Water rushes to the beach. Olaf, in your Falchion you see a reflection of another ship, with 10 more people from Broken bay. They look ready to ambush you. You think you see them with bows.
From behind the nearest hill the fifteen men run forward, each with a great axe in hand. They mass together and rush in a great charge.
The small Broken Bay ship comes closer and several Arrows pepper the sands near the boat, no actually harming anyone. The Berserkers near, giving you 2 rounds.
Aubheroene (Ō-vər-ōn) is weary of the sea when they beach and walks to the sand with his fellow raiders.
He pulls out the rod of his fathers and readies for combat incanting two spells.
All of them drop their bows. Not able to see. The ship beaches, and many fall into the freezing water.
DC23 Fortitude save or take 15 cold damage per turn.
Olaf charges up into the group of blinded warriors as they drop their bows, drawing his sword and closing to the nearest ones as he enters a rage.
Hiiram pulls a potion from a pouch inside his vest, pulling out the stopper and drinking the concoction inside. An opaque field shimmers softly around him, before fading from view.
Effects: Obedience (+4 Concentration checks), Shield (10/10)
Wizard Spells:
0 (at-will) - acid splash, detect magic, message
1st (4/day) - color spray (1/1), identify (1/1), vanish (1/1)
Alchemist Extracts:
1st (3/day) - expeditious retreat (1/1), shield (0/1)
Soral steps behind a group of sailors for a moment, briefly muttering to himself Protection, protection, what do I have for protection? Ah, that'll do the trick. After a moment of thought he casts Mage Armor on himself, Imagine how pathetic it would be if I got hurt the first fight of this raid, then I'd be fairly useless to the rest of the crew and Sarenrae probably wouldn't be too thrilled.
:
Wearing a hard smile, Hálvr follows his companions in disembarking from the longship. He hefts Rauðskeggkaðr and as the baleful horn sounds he nods.
Welcommen hame eh?
Then the big skald bellows to the other raiders...
"Death has kommen to this land today! Fight well! Send them to the Valenhall!"
... afore joining his captain in the countercharge toward the berserkers.
The Berserkers strike out, mostly against the shield wall, though one does attack Halvr
Attacks against the shield wall
Four members of the shield wall are hit. They retaliate, killing one of the enemy
Olaf flies into a rage and strikes down the nearest foe with his lance. As he does so he seems to blur back and forth, as his ancestors help protect him.
Aubheroene (Ō-vər-ōn) steps to the side of the Shield Wall casts Burning Hands.
Hiiram finds a spot behind the shield wall, looking for a niche in the enemy's defenses. He pulls a vial from his belt clutching the container of bright green liquid tightly as he gestures and mumbles underneath his breath. As an opening appears, he swiftly points at it and hisses, "Kαίομαι!" as a small bolt of acid flies from his hand towards the target.
Alfred walks up behind the shield wall, trying to make sure that all (or most) of the enemies are within 30 feet.
Round 1
Taking a heavy hit from one of his former kinsman elicits a grunt of pained anger from Hálvr, and he brings his own Greataxe to bear in a vicious hack at the beserk:
:
:
Halvr, the man stays strong, though grunts in pain.
Alfred you do intimidate all of them. The men who you were fighting now look afraid and a few even lay down their weapons and cower, while 8 catch on fire. (effectively 4 are out of the fight)
Aubheroene, your burning hands hits three of the berserkers, and they do seem injured,two with some burn marks, the third taking the fire to his face, leaving a bad burn around his eyes.
Hiiram your bolt of acid misses and dissolves some of the sand.
The blind men in the water fumble around, moving nowhere, though the one furthest out grabs hold of his bow.
Round 1 Cast Mage Armor
Round 2 Cast Burning Gaze
Round 3 Continue burning
Burning Gaze
Burning Gaze
School evocation [fire]; Level bloodrager 2, druid 2, magus 2, sorcerer/wizard 2, witch 2
CASTING
Casting Time 1 standard action
Components V, S, M/DF (eye of a mundane salamander)
EFFECT
Range personal
Targets you
Duration 1 round/level
Saving Throw Fortitude negates (see text); Spell Resistance yes
DESCRIPTION
Your eyes burn like hot coals, allowing you to set objects or foes alight with a glance.
As a standard action as long as this spell's effects persist, you may direct your burning gaze against a single creature or object within 30 feet of your location. Targeted creatures must succeed at a Fortitude save or take 1d6 points of fire damage. Unattended objects do not get a save. Creatures damaged by the spell must make a Reflex save or catch fire.
Each round, burning creatures may attempt a Reflex save to quench the flames; failure results in another 1d6 points of fire damage. Flammable items worn by a creature must also save or take the same damage as the creature. If a creature or object is already on fire, it suffers no additional effects from burning gaze.
Note that this spell does not grant an actual gaze attack- foes and allies are not in danger of catching on fire simply by meeting your gaze.
"Come on men, let's take the fight to them."