As the line before the priestess and king grows shorter the smell of cooking meat fills the settlement. While the blessing was being distributed the same slaves who helped with the sacrifice finished their butchery and began to boil the horse meat in a couple of large iron pots. The various thegns and ceorlas (freemen) mill about, their retinues mixing together upon the green. The general mood is one of festivity, the people feeling the blessing of the gods fresh upon them. Old friends continue to tell tales of the long winter and brag of their exploits while the sacrifice is finished cooking.
When the time comes the number of people far outnumbers the amount of meat that is available from the single animal. The most senior thegns are called forward to sample the first bits, served to them by the dryhten and priestess. The process continues until it is the time for the newest thegns to come forward. Ruhas, Berengar, Isegrimm, Ordric and Odalric are all called forward to partake in the strength of the animal, and through them it would be passed on to their people. The gedryht of the called thegns look on in eager anticipation as their leaders are offered the ceremonial piece of flesh.
Please post your reactions to this, but I'm gonna keep going.
Once all the thegns have been served, the most senior ceorlas are called forward. By the time they are finished eating the meat the pots are empty save for bones. Aldhun steps forward to address the assembled people.
"The Þing will begin when the sun reaches the zenith of the sky. I have tasks for all of my thegns. The most honorable will be called first, the rest of you may bide your time. Rest and enjoy your stay. After I am finished instructing my thegns, I will hold open council to hear the word of my people. After the people have spoken the great pyre will be lit so that the sun may continue to burn the entire night through, and we will celebrate our coming victories." As the king finishes his short speech many of the men begin to wander off, while others remain chatting amongst themselves. It appears to be about six or seven hours until noon.
Again, feel free to do stuff during this time period, but I am going to keep going.
The morning wears on into noon. Most of the higher ranking men return to a light sleep, still nursing hearty hangovers from the night before. The lower status men turn to sporting play, wrestling and sparring. As the sun reaches the zenith of the sky, again the ram's horns sound and the oldest and most powerful thegns are called to the great hall to treat with the king. It is closer to three or four o'clock by our modern reckoning before the herald sounds the horn and calls out "Will Berengar son of Berndric of the Bernhilds, Isegrimm son of Cwichelm, Odalric son of Fensric, Ordric son of Ormar the Soft and Ruhas grandson of Ogar the Old come forward. The dryhten calls them to honor their oaths!" He holds the door flap to the great hall open, and awaits the thegns he has called.
Whenever you respond to this, just label your posts with what you're doing at each appropriate time.
Ruhas steps forth to take part in the consumption of the horse. While the butcher was senseless leaving the carcass to just rot in the sun was madness, you might as well eat it. Ruhas simply accepts his piece, nodding in recognition. After tasting it he discretely disposes of his piece, disliking the lack of flavor.
It holds no real ceremonial significance to him. Ruhas is used to eating better tasting horse meat as at his farm cripples and runts have to be killed and they are then eaten.
While many others, including his cousins, sleep off their intoxication Ruhas instead goes to the stables to groom his horse. While many others might not consider the care of their horse to be of importance they are also the ones who will find themselves with an exhausted or wounded horse while riding into combat. In the field horse and rider were one so you had to treat the horse as an extension of yourself.
Ruhas was still in the stables when he hears the call. He puts away the pig's hair brush he used, pets the animal and then hands his reins to one of the stable-slaves before moving towards the dryhten's halls. Once inside he greats his dryhten by clenching his fist and bringing it to his heart. He silently awaits his orders in silence, still hoping it will be something minor so he can return home soon.
Isegrimm returned Odalric's nod with a respectful one of his one, though he was surprised to see the greater thegn so easily give way for one of his own lesser stature. He was a patient and cautious one to be sure.
Isegrimm accepted the sacred horse-flesh as eagerly as he had accepted the daubing of blood earlier; he reverently chewed the meat, closing his eyes and dreaming of the Saxon gods. Swallowing, he felt renewed and purified, strengthened by the traditions of his people.
Upon hearing that it would be many hours before he would be summoned before the dryhten, Isegrimm takes Aldalgar and Bertman aside and sets up a log about 15 yards away. Together, the three of them whiled away the hours throwing their franciscas at the wood, cutting deep notches in to the dark bark. It was the one Frankish custom that seemed most valuable to Isegrimm, and he meant for all of his warriors to use throwing-axes in the Frankish fashion - to disrupt an enemy's shield-wall before a charge.
Isegrimm and his gedryht pause in their exercise to eat, enjoying a hearty meal of roast pork and potatoes. As usual, Isegrimm tossed scraps to Degenwulf, who munched on them happily. They were halfway through their meal when the call from the dryhten came, so Isegrimm gestured to his men to continue eating. Degenwulf, however, happily followed his master into the great hall, where they found Ruhas already waiting.
|Berengar of Bernhild|
Berengar waited behind Isegrimm as he received the gods' blessing of horsemeat. He watched the beardless Saxon eat with interest as he tore mouthful chunks off of the carved meat. He still didn't know what to make of the Saxon who lived with the Franks. In some ways he seemed familiar, but in other ways so alien. Seeing traits of his enemy in a Saxon made it all the more unsettling, but a part of him recognized that Isegrimm represented a path many here would rather not face. Would this be the price of peace?
After the meal of horseflesh, Berengar retired with his gedrhyt to a shaded stand of trees. Alric and Ealdulf were eager to test their skills against the men of other sibbs and Berengar gave them his leave. He watched as Alric wrestled with men from the north and a few from the Drhyten's own family. Ealdulf fared better in tests of speed and agility, winning several footraces and once leaping clear over another warrior who looked to tackle him. He earned quite a few shouts from the other warriors and impressed looks from the women gathered for that feat.
When the sun was high in the sky, Berengar hears the horns and his summons. The great bear rises from his position and makes his way to the hall. His large bear pelt is wrapped around his shoulders and the tough hide protecting his body.
Ordric stays silent as he waits for his time to take the flesh, and eats it quickly and quietly. Pleased at the chance to take in the horse's strength, he then moves to find a quiet spot away from the festivities, where he sits down and spends some time sharpening his saex.
As Aldhun announces the time for the Þing to begin, Ordric gauges the time left and nods to himself. He finishes maintaining his saex and retrieves the rest of his gear, spending some time polishing his spear and looking over his armor before putting it on and leaving the settlement. He explores the surrounding area for several hours, familiarizing himself with the terrain in case he will have to fight there later. As the time for the Þing draws closer, he returns to Bremen and leaves his spear and shield in his room, keeping his mail shirt on and saex on hand.
Ordric seeks a tree to sit under, snorting as he spots Isegrimm and his gedryht practicing with their Frankish weaponry. After finding a suitable spot, he sits and alternates his time between resharpening his saex and testing its edge against a nearby branch. He glances toward the main hall as the most powerful thegns are summoned, shrugging and returning his attention to his saex after not hearing his name. As the horns sound a second time and Ordric and the others are called, he frowns, surprised that he is being called so quickly... and somewhat annoyed that the Frankish one is in the same group. Shrugging his annoyance off, he sheathes his saex and heads to the tent to join the others.
After being sprinkled with the horse's blood, Odalric returns to his gedryht and firmly grabs each of their foreheads with his hand that they might be imparted with some fraction of the gods' blessing. When he smells the horsemeat cooking, he turns to regard the preparation from a distance, watching approvingly as the meat is boiled. He spots a thegn from the Osning whom he had helped once in a dispute and nods to him respectfully.
When called to partake in the ceremonial morsel, Odalric's heart skips a beat. He clears his throat and approaches, feeling as honored as ever to taste it. He accepts the flesh as respectfully as possible, kneeling before the priestess and Aldhun. "Praise be to Ostara, and you both." He tastes it still on the knee, as to humble himself further. As he leaves, he steals a final glance at the priestess and her golden hair and fair skin still speckled with blood, regretting it instantly as he allows his thoughts to drift to the past again.
Returning to his gedryht again, he gives them freedom of Bremen. "Eat, drink, and spar as you will, but remember your honors. This is a holy day." He then leaves them, moving to the boundary of the village-camp, to the edge of the hill where he looks out at the land before him, smiling faintly as he gazes over the wending river, the clustered copses of trees, the gentle slopes of the firm earth and the pleasant drifts of mist that lay draped over them like a familiar cloak.
"A good land," he says softly. "My peoples' land, my land. The gods are strong here, as in the Osning. This is their gift to us, and this is no gift I mean to let slip into foreign hands of foreign gods." He draws his axe, an old thing but still finely serviceable. His father had cut naught with it by trees. Fensric of the Osning had made this axe himself, using the axe of his own father to cut and shave the wood. Odalric had done the same, had crafted his own axe with the one he held now in his hands. But that axe had broken. So forcefully had he chopped through the head of the Frank that his blow had carried to the large stone behind him and the haft had suffered for it. That day he had lost an axe, a son, and a wife.
She had been in the birthing bed before the Franks had attacked and did not live to see the end of the fray. No Frank had actually done her harm themselves; no arrow or blade or axe had even come close to her, but there was blood all the same. Too much blood. It was a bad birth, and neither son nor mother had hope to survive. Odalric had blamed the Franks regardless, for tainting the Osning with their foreign ways and single god. The gods of his people had weakened that day, he had thought, had lost his wife and not been able to protect her through the birthing.
He remembered stumbling into the hut, heart pulsing wildly, holding the half-haft of his broken axe. She had looked at him once more before death swept over her eyes and turned her once-warm stare into a cold gaze. He had collapsed to his knees at the bedside, embracing her one final time, her blood mixing with his on his skin. That was when he had grabbed his father's woodcutting axe and had returned outside, killing enemies with a rage granted to him by the gods. The divine fury.
And now as he looked at that axe moisture welled in his eyes, but he willed it away and replaced it with rage and determination. "You tried to live a life of peace, Father, a quiet one. You wanted this for me, to take a woman to love and to raise a son and to fell trees and breathe deep the might of the Osning, but I cannot do this. Father, forgive me, for I march to war."
It was then the heralds called him. A message from the gods.
The hall seems like a different place in the light of day. The long tables are empty of men, and only the main hearth has a fire burning. There are still slaves cleaning up from the night before, though it is now early afternoon. Aldhun sits in his throne, and as you enter he motions everyone to sit down at the head table with him. He is back in his armor, though the dried blood of the blessing still covers his face and arms. "Come friends sit. We have much to discuss. You boy, mead for these men." he says, motioning a slave boy with a clay pitcher and cups over.
Once everyone is seated he begins without further ado. "You are my newest thegns. To be honest, I know you only by your reputations. Those reputations however speak well of you." he says smiling. "I have a task for you which will bring you much honor, and strengthen our position against Clovis' cousin Sigibert and his Franks. There is a Bruchterian dryhten by the name of Wiligais who holds lands to the south. While not overly strong in warriors, he is a holy man and all the Bruchteri respect him greatly. If we could get him to join us, it would be a great boon and place his own people as a buffer between us and the Franks." He pauses to take a drink from his silver mug. "I have no doubt that Sigibert has similar ideas of converting him to their one-god and bringing him into the Frankish fold. Your task is to convince him that his future lies with the Saxons. How you do this, I leave up to you. It shall be your first test. Questions?"
|Berengar of Bernhild|
Berengar grunts at Alhdun's words. He takes a long drink of mead from his cup. "What more do we know of this Wiligais? Will he consider our approach hostile? And have his people suffered at the hands of the Franks? For a holy man to even consider converting to the Frankish one-god, he must either fear them or hold them in some regard." He looks to Odalric Silver-Tongue. "Perhaps Silver-Tongue should have words with him."
Odalric listens carefully, nodding at Berengar's suggestion. "Do we know of any particular offenses he would take? Or any flatteries? If he is a holy man then claiming a meet under the gods should keep things peaceful enough. If he does fear the Franks, we must show him that there is naught to fear if he would join his strength with Saxon sons. If he...respects them, then we must show him that his respect is misplaced." He stays quiet for a few moments, pondering a question he feels hangs in the air. "If this Bruchterian should refuse?"
Aldhun replies first to Berengar saying, "I don't think he will immediately regard you as hostiles. We have little steady contact with Wiligais' people, but it is more often peaceful than not. As for the Franks, he would be a fool not to fear them, now that most of Gaul is under their control it's only a matter of time before they turn their eyes northward again." Looking over to Odalric he continues, "You have the right idea. Should he find you offensive, well..." he pauses to laugh heartily, "it may be that we will never meet again." His grin is wolfish as he continues to chuckle.
Ordric sits quietly and drinks his mead, staying silent as Aldhun speaks. He scratches his beard idly, considering the Dryhten's words. A different plan than expected, but a useful one. Allies may be needed, even against the Franks--and the Bruchteri are fine fighters. As Aldhun chuckle, Ordric glances towards his dryhten. "As it always may be, Dryhten. What would you have of us once we succeed? This holy man will surely see the weakness of the One-god, and shall need to meet with you to plan. Will you remain in Bremen, or shall we direct him elsewhere?" With that, Ordric falls silent and drinks more mead, awaiting his lord's reply and thinking of the best approach in meeting with Wiligais.
"I will stay here until summer is upon us. I have other tasks for other men that will need similar resolution. If you gain his oath, return here with an envoy from his people and I will instruct you further. Who can say what future the idisi intend to weave for us?"
"This should be simple enough," Isegrimm interjects. "It is said that all men marvel at Odalric's word-hoard, and I know enough of the Franks and their bleeding god to show him their weakness. Still, it would be best to bring gifts; he should know that our ring-giver rewards good service. We should take gold and silver with us, and good hard iron, that he may see the wealth of Aldhun."
Isegrimm ponders a minute, then asks "Has Wiligais any daughters? We might gain his allegiance with an offer of marriage - there are several amongst us who would be attractive matches. Odalric himself is without a wife, and sons, as well, if I am not mistaken. That would be a good match, and strengthen all involved."
Aldhun appears to ponder for a moment, stroking his beard. "Yes, I believe he does have a daughter, who should be of marriageable age. However it is not for me to choose Odalric's wife. As for the treasure, you speak wisely, you shall have something with which to entice Wiligais."
|Berengar of Bernhild|
At the mention of him taking a wife, Odalric very visibly betrays himself by looking quite morose, if only for a mere moment before regaining his composure. He clears his throat and manages a weak smile. "If it will help our cause against the Franks, it is not out of the question... though I am a mere woodsman-turned-thegn whose riches are weighed in bark and leaf rather than gold and silver, with no great deeds to speak of as his fellows do. Are we certain that such a proposal would not be an insult to the daughter of a dryhten?" He glances around at his fellow thegns.
Feeling the need to come to Odalric's aid Ruhas speaks up, "I have a younger brother who's up for the taking. It is time he finds someone and seems unable to do so himself."
Ruhas foresaw no problems with this errand. They were to speak with a holy man and most of those were even tempered and patient. Best of all, there would be no battle involved.
"As I said, he is no great warrior. I am unsure how he intends to wed his daughter, or what kind of man would be attractive to him." Aldhun replies to Odalric. "As for your kin, that I leave to you, Ruhas. If marriage is what it takes to seal Wiligais' allegiance then by all means find someone to marry his daughter. I trust you men are competent enough to determine that on your own."
|Berengar of Bernhild|
"I am pleased to hear it. Please enjoy my hospitality until the morning. I will have someone prepare a gift for you to give Wiligais before you leave. Is there anything else?" Aldhun asks.
If nobody has any more questions we can move on. If you have more business in Bremen, take care of it in your next post. Once everyone has posted their actions for the rest of the day (if any) we can fast forward to the morning.
Odalric nods to Berengar. "A greater show of strength to Wiligais. It should show him that siding with us would be prudent...and if the wine turns vinegar, we will be thankful that there are more of us." Turning to Aldhun, "Nothing else from my, Dryhten. We will not fail you, this I vow by the gods, seconding thegn Ordric."
Upon leaving, Odalric does not return to his hut directly. He walkes the perimeter of the encampment, nodding to the guards as he passes, returning to a high point to look out across the lands again, pondering the days to come into twilight.
Ruhas simply nodded, signifying he he didn't have any more to add. He waited for the others to go before he took his leave.
The rest of the day Ruhas spent exploring the area around the city. He always enjoyed seeing how the people elsewhere lived, especially outside the larger cities where he himself felt a little out of place.
|Berengar of Bernhild|
Berengar nods as the groups breaks up. He departs the meeting and heads straight out to find Alric and Ealdulf. "We depart at first light. Aldhun-Dryhten has a task for us to strengthen the Saxon host. We shall travel with Odred's kin, the Horseman, Silver-Tongue, the Saxon-Frank, and their gedryht. Go back to the sibb for supplies. Kargen the elder should lead the sibb back to our lands. You speak for me. I will see you in the hall this evening."
The two gedryht seems surprised at the news, but both nod and take off out of camp and toward the sibb. Berengar returns to the hall for a drink before retiring to the tent. He naps for a bit and then sees that their weapons are prepared for the days to come. He fingers his bear-tooth necklace unconsciously as he considers their task. If Silver-Tongue can convince this dryhten to add his spear to Aldhun, then we can hold off the Franks for another few seasons. If not, this may all turn to s*+&.
Ordric shakes his head and stands, thanking the Dryhten for his hospitality before exiting. Musing over their mission, he gathers his gear and exits the settlement to explore some more. An important mission, if not one that I'm suited for. The Silver-Tongue can use his skills if need be, but I doubt that will be necessary. For a holy man to follow the weakling god... Bah! Soon though, Tiwstingan shall taste more Frankish blood. It is a good day.
As he wanders, his thoughts turn to Isegrimm and the others. A pity the Frank-friend is coming with us, but his thought was not a bad one. I suppose there will be time enough to read that one on the journey--and none of the gods will spare him if he is a follower of Clovis! Seaxneat let me strike him down if the need arises!
Ruhas is an odd one, but a horseman is always useful to have. Bear-Cultists are known for their ferocity--I should share mead with Berengar when there is a chance, he should have some good tales of battle.
Ordric spends the rest of the day musing over the upcoming mission and thinking about the other thegns as he wanders in the surrounding area. As night falls, he returns to Bremen to get some sleep.
Isegrimm leaves with the rest of the thegns, returning to his gedryht and giving orders to prepare to depart. For the remainder of the day and the evening, however, he mingles amongst the people of the settlement, sharing meat and mead with many, and asking after stories of Wiligais.
Best to learn what one can before meeting a new challenge, he thought to himself as he inquired about Wiligais' legend.
Isegrimm, most of these people haven't heard of Wiligais. The ones that have just know that he's a small king to the south.
The night passes without event, most of the feasting calmed down. Most of the men are preparing to depart in the morning. The sound of crowing roosters precedes a misty dawn. Once all of the thegns bound for Wiligais' lands have assembled they are met by a middle aged warrior with long whiteish-blond hair in two braids down the sides of his head. His beard and moustache are cropped fairly short. He carries with him a small wooden box of ornate roman design. Inside resting on a piece of fine cloth are a golden bracelet and two thick golden rings. All three pieces look to be from somewhere in Gaul, their surfaces covered in extensive knotwork, set with bits of amber. "These here's Aldhun's gifts for the Bruchteri. Good luck." he says with a wide grin. His smile if full of gaps from missing teeth.
The journey to Wiligais' lands should take about 6 days.
Bremen is basically where the Saxons label is. Wiligais lives near the present day Osnabrück, in the northern end of the Teutoburg forest. At the left end of the Bruchterian label.
|Berengar of Bernhild|
"Woden's teeth! Look at these. This could be worth a small fortune!" Berengar accepts the box from the aged warrior. "With these, Wiligais will at least have to give us some notice. Then we let Silver-Tongue do his work." The bear-warrior grins and you see the yellowed bear teeth which have been implanted into his mouth.
"Let's be on with it then." He glances at Alric and Ealdulf, both of them eager to be on this task of importance and hoping they get to prove their mettle. The two gedryht walk with Berengar, though they seem to be constantly looking over to the other Thegns and their companions.
There you go, Jelani. That ought to get us on the road.
Day 1:1d100 ⇒ 79 The first day goes by with little to note. The weather is windy, but not wet. The sun shines all day, and you make good time over the moors of Saxon land. As evening falls you come across a small farm and are treated as honored guests for the night.
Day 2:1d100 ⇒ 37 Day two starts out pleasant but quickly turns sour. A cold drenching rain falls from mid-morning on, and the trails become mud. By evening you have covered a decent amount of ground, but are forced to sleep outside. Lose 1 day's rations.
Day 3:1d100 ⇒ 73 Luckily day three is again pleasant. By noon most of your gear has dried out. The land becomes less boggy and begins to gently roll off into the south. The amount of trees increases slightly. You manage to find another farm to stay in that night. Lose another day's rations.
Day 4:1d100 ⇒ 3 On the fourth day you set out early from the farm, and the weather is nice. It continues to hold throughout the day and you make good time. By evening you have entered into a light wood. You are searching for a suitable place to make camp.
Everybody give me perception checks.
|Berengar of Bernhild|
Stealth roll 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
The squares with heavy vegetation provide cover and are difficult terrain.
Those of you who made a DC 8 perception check can act in the surprise round.
Perception checks for the gedryht 1d20 ⇒ 5
Berengar 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Alric and Eadulf 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
Odalric 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21
Eadbald, Osric, and Irminric 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Ordric 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Isegrimm 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
Aldalger and Bertman 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
Ruhas 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Tuma & Tegze 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12
Bandits 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
Adalger and Bertman 15
Tuma and Tegze 12
Alric and Eadulf 10
As your group is making its way through the forest you get a creepy feeling as the birds and other animals quiet down. You start to examine your surroundings when several bowmen leap out of the bushes with a shout! The air is filled with the hissing sound of arrows in flight as they all let loose.
Bandits 1-3 attack Irminric
Attack 1 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22
Damage 1 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Attack 2 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22
Damage 2 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Attack 3 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Damage 3 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
All three arrows slam into Odalric's man, piercing his armor and sticking from his back. He cries out in pain and surprise.
Bandits 4-5 attack Bertman
Attack 4 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22
Damage 4 1d8 ⇒ 1
Attack 5 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Damage 5 1d8 ⇒ 5
Their shafts also strike home. One sticking in his thigh, while the other buries itself in his shoulder. His cries mingle with those of Irminric.
Bandits 6-8 attack Ruhas
Attack 6 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Damage 6 1d8 ⇒ 7
Attack 7 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
Damage 7 1d8 ⇒ 8
Attack 8 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
Damage 8 1d8 ⇒ 3
Ruhas, an easy target as the only mounted man is also feathered with three shafts, though his chain shirt protects him from certain death. Take 6 damage after your DR Ruhas.
So Ruhas, Berengar and Oldalric (and possibly Ordric) can take a single standard action. I will act for your gedryht, though they will follow your orders. After the surprise round actions are posted Odalric and Isegrimm can post their round one actions. Then I'll act for the bandits and do a mid round summary, and the rest can act.
I didn't notice my men on the initiative list, are they acting on my initiative?
Odalric lets out a shout of anger as Irminric is feathered. He puts eyes on the archers and draws his axe and shield, calling to his gedryht "shields out! cover Irminric!". Odalric's blood begins to thump in his ears, and after having seen one of his own take such wounds, he beseeches the gods for their fury.
Just arming myself for the surprise round. If I can only draw one, it'll be the axe.
As soon as he notices the the bandits in the foliage he shouts "Bandits, make ready!" He then spurs his horse to turn around, he needs room.
Guiding mount with knees to move 50 feet back up the road while drawing my bow. He needs room to manoeuvre. Auto succeed on guiding with knees (DC 5 with a +8)
How did you manage to actually roll a 1 for my initiative?
|Berengar of Bernhild|
As the arrows fly, Berengar shouts to Alric and Ealdulf, "Archers! Take cover and close with them!" The bear-warrior charges into the brush, weaving his way around some larger vegetation. He spots a group of archers and heads toward them, trying to harry them with Berengar. He shouts at them, "I will tear your throats out!"
Single Move: J9, K9, L10->P10. Threaten archer 7 with 10 foot reach.
My bad on your gedryht Odalric, forgot to relist it outside the spoiler, they act on initiative 4. I'll allow you to draw both weapons or weapon/shield.
Edit:Just noticed Ordric auto-passes the perception roll. So once he posts his surprise round standard action we can do round one posts. Everyone please remember to label your posts with round and initiative like Berengar did. Makes things much easier for me.
Odalric fumes at the injuring of one he looks upon as a son, and called upon the gods-granted rage simmering inside of him. He lets out a primal shout as he bounds forward at the archers, drawing back his axe arm. He moves swiftly towards the leftmost of the three archers that shot Irminric and lets loose with Feller.
I believe I can make it to Bandit 3 with 40 ft movement (do you count diagonals as 1 square or 1.5 squares, by the way?)
Battleaxe Attack: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
Battleaxe Damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Current Status: (raging)
HP: 23 plus 4 temp
Defense: 11, Will: +4, Str 18, Con 19
Rage Rounds: 1
Round 1, Initiative 21:
Odalric runs over to a bandit and brings his battleaxe down in an angry overhead slice. It cuts through the bandit's studded leather armor, leaving a bloody gash in his upper arm.
Round 1 Initiative 15:
Adalgar and Bertman run over to assist Odalric with the archers on the left flank of the group. They strike around Odalric using their longspears in a one handed grip...
Attack 1 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Damage 1 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
Attack 2 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Damage 2 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
Adalgar's strike lands home, piercing through into the bandit's abdomen. While Bertman's is harmlessly deflected.
Isegrimm moves after the other men, drawing a throwing axe and his shield as he goes. He stops a couple paces short of the bandits and hurls his axe at the southmost bandit.
Attack on #3 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Damage 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
The axe flies wide of the man, as he dodges to the side.
Ruhas' men Tuma and Tegze draw and fire their longbows, both aiming at the man locked in combat with Odalric and his men.
Attack 1 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Damage 1 1d8 ⇒ 3
Attack 2 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Damage 2 1d8 ⇒ 3
Both shafts strike the man, but fail to do any serious damage through his armor.
Bandits 1 and 2 drop their bows and draw their spears. They both attempt to stab Odalric.
Attack 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Damage 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Attack 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Damage 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Bandit 3 steps back and shoots at Isegrimm
Attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Damage 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Bandits 4 and 5 shoot at Ruhas
Attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Damage 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
Damage 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Bandits 6 and 7 drop their bows and draw their spears, then step forward.
8 will also shoot at Ruhas
Attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
Damage 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Alric and Eadulf arm themselves and move forward to support Berengar.
Ordric will move around the trees to stab at bandit 4 with his longspear.
Attack 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Damage 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
So to sum things up Ruhas takes 4 damage after DR, and both he and Berengar can take their round one actions now.
|Berengar of Bernhild|
Berengar drops his longspear and leaps at the nearest bandit, growling as his claws and teeth try to sink into the man's soft flesh.
Rage, Power attack at #7
Claw 1 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Damage 1d6 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14
Claw 2 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Damage 1d6 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10
Bite 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
Damage 1d4 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11
Small correction, Ruhas is ~20' south of the bottom edge of the map. As soon as he acts, I'll resolve the round. Since about half these squares are heavily wooded, I'm gonna rule that if you step off the map, half your movement counts as two squares since we can't actually see where the trees/brush are but they are still difficult terrrain.
As Ruhas' rides up, his shaft pierces the bandit's armor, and the man cries out in pain.
The three men of Odalric's gedryht charge off through the underbrush to support Ordric against the bandits on the right side of the map.
Berengar, in his fury jams his right-hand claws up under one bandit's chin, nearly ripping his jaw off. With the other hand he simultaneously rips through the second bandit's diaphragm, before using his lungs as a grip to pull him close for a vicious bite to the throat. Both men crumple to the ground in bloody piles, dead. Nice round man.
Begin Round 2
Adalger and Bertman 15
Tuma and Tegze 12
Alric and Eadulf 10
Eadbald, Osric, and Irminric 4
That means Odalric and Isegrimm can act in round 2 now.
Odalric narrows his eyes in focus, glaring hard at his foe. He flings his shield to the ground in a fluid motion and grips Feller with both hands, letting out a low, almost melodic roar as he swings it at the enemy.
Move action to drop the shield, attack bandit 1.
Attack: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
Damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
Current Status: (raging)
HP: 23 plus 4 temp
Defense: 9, Will: +4, Str 18, Con 19
Rage Rounds: 2
Odalric's axe takes the bandit at the neck, and with a wet crack splits it from his shoulders. The head bounces a few paces before coming to a rest.