Aterro's hammer crashes down on one of the reavers trying to break through the barrier. Steel meets flesh and bone once, twice, completely pulverizing the slaver's skull and upper body. Leaving his companion and the lower half of the war cleric drenched in blood and gore. With only one target left, Aterro directs his spiritual weapon against that foe and hammers him in the shoulder which just seems to inspire the slaver further to reach the foe that has brought low so many of his fellows.
Zove tries to strike at the trollkin shaman, but the blast is off the mark and ends of searing into the berm a few feet from the jogging enemy.
The berserk dwarf turns the last of the crates and barrels into kindling that Zove's magical entity can no longer repair in any way. With the way clear the grim looking dwarf tries to land a clear strike on Aterro, but the giant cleric easily parries the blow.
From the top of the berm more reavers shout as the shaman, Ornfisk, and the chief, Gronar, with another pair of the slavers close behind charge across the beach toward the two heroes and the burning ship.
Seeing the knight go down again and Bronar escaping, the gnome points his finger and attempts to put down Bronar with a stern voice, "Ibrox."
As the blast flies past the reaver, the cursed one demands, "Ibrox!" The blasts curls around and hits the retreating dwarf in the face.
The cheerful smile returns to the gnome's face. He dashes to the corral and releases the gate, "Menin dosum saktoo. duşmandarımdı jok."
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"THOR the mighty, THOR the brave,
Crush the infidels in your way,
BY your hammer let none be saved!"
Aterro sang openly now. Many souls had he slain in Thor's name. Many wrongs had he set to right. By his own hammer and by the sliver of Thor's own POWER had many skulls been cleaved in twain from the neck of hapless fouls that had grown fat on their evil ways and could not stand in the face of RIGHTEOUSNESS and GLORIOUS COMBAT.
"You fear death. I know this. Many of your comrades have been embraced by the endless dark, and you feel it closing in about you. No matter the lives you have taken, I know that, secretly, you wonder about it. The vacant look in your victims as your blade took them and their eyes turned from terror to a blank stare--you wonder at it.
A man who had not known so much death, perhaps, a righteous man, would kneel before me and beg. It is the only rational thing. To strive in violence--look about you--what has this wrought? But to beg for life, THAT would be the path to safety.
What you feel is NOT glory. It is NOT honor. It is FEAR--fear that you will
May Fenrir gnaw your bones."
Aterro swears he can -feel- Thor's own might flow through him. He knows that he is seen, and that he has done well.
As the blood and STEEL flash in the night, he looks up at the onrushing horde. The shaman. The chief. His lackeys.
And he smiles.
Coldly.
Trevor's eyes grow wide as he recognizes the place, and the man. He is about to ask the man if he is Khors and if he could be given a chance to fight on, but the man sends him to a line, where he finds the Reavers waiting.
He sits beside Morgo and the two look in the distance, uneasy...
Finally, Trevor breaks the silence. He turns to Morgo and points at the Trollkin's back: "Does it hurt still? I hope you understand. That Bronar, he's a piece of nasty work... By the way, you should know your Reaver, the one who climbed the ladder after Ibrox, he works well with his axe. Simple, yet powerful stroke. No flash, just effective. He's the one sent me here 's a matter of fact."
Finnigan sees Bronar flee and curses at the Dwarf, sending him a parting shot.
Seeing his bolt thunk in the door frame, he curses and pursues the Dwarf.
Vrindel notices Trevor falling again and curses inside. He absentmindedly sends more healing motes of energy in his direction, and begins to prepare to take on the enemy that just took him down.
Healing Word Bonus Action
Flame Blade Action
Move to Dwarf attacking Trevor and attack with flaming blade.
Flaming blade
Fiery cut.
"There is a price to be paid, and you and your companions are now to pay it".
Trevor opens his eyes once more. Startled by the shift in surroundings and disoriented by the sight of two Dwarven legs towering above him and reaching up to the Reaver's crotch, Trevor reacts instinctively, hurling his axe upwards from below the man, hoping to catch him unaware.
The fickle god of the sea decides to aid the reavers as a fish brutally throws itself at Zove throwing off her aim and her concentration on the various magical forces she is using to power her magics. The momentary slip is enough to cause the energies to generate a nasty backlash that she attempts to shrug off before it overwhelms her senses completely.
But while Zove struggles, Aterro revels in the glory of the battle and blood soaking his feet. His hammer once again crashes down on the reaver and although the dwarf gets his axe in position to parry the blow, the weapon blows through the block, shattering axe, arm, and shoulder. The reaver screams out in pain and collapses to his knees under the assault.
Seeing another of their men fall, those running down the beach shout their own battle cries, especially Gronar who continues his charge down to the beach. But arriving before the frenzied chief, is the shaman and her trollkin follower, Ornfisk.
The shaman stops several feet before the dock and it's giant defender. Raising her staff she begins to chant and dance while the tip of her staff glows with an icy blue light. Shortly a cold mix of ice and rain and sleet begins to fall on the worst of the flames on the ship and the area is filled with a cloud of hissing steam.
Ornfisk grins and spits to the side as he steps up the dock, seeing the fallen dwarves strewn about Aterro's feet. "Well...I guess we shall see which of us is favored by the gods this day."
He then moves quickly to strike with his heavy bladed axe, but Aterro easily parries the blow and the trollkin slips just enough on the bloody surface of the dock to throw off his initial aim.
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"ON YOUR KNEES!" Aterro shouts, thinking it appropriate that the reaver is in the position he had suggested.
His reverie is quickly broken with the arrivals of warriors of some worth.
As the freezing rain sets in and the chief himself comes into battle, a plan at last settles into Aterro's mind.
The giant Aterro engages in preliminary fisticuffs with Ornfisk, blocking his blows with his metal hammer, and warily counting the wounded reaver as still a threat.
Once Aterro judges it time to take initiative, he goes to work.
"You are no doubt the leader. You have a heavy weapon, and no doubt your armor is thick, and of best quality.
And yet, you speak an interesting choice of words. We all know that Thor smiles on strength. But how well do your own deities smile---"
With mighty SPLASH Aterro spreads his leviathan legs and drops into the water, the deep water not quite reaching his thick chest.
"---on swimming?"
Grunting forcefully, Aterro's tree-trunk thick biceps strain against the heavy studs supporting the pier's girth.
At first there is no movement, but with a bone-curdling shriek the durability of the dock can no longer resist a WarCleric given both size and zeal, and rough-hewn planks are sent flying as Aterro rips the wharf asunder.
'It turns out Zove had the right idea after all.'
Finnigan sees Bronar flee and curses at the Dwarf, sending him a parting shot.
[dice=Crossbow]1d20 + 6; 1d6 + 3
Seeing his bolt thunk in the door frame, he curses and pursues the Dwarf.
Ibrox strikes the fleeing Bronar in the back with a blast of eldritch energy that knocks the man to the ground. He feebly tries to scramble away but Finnigan puts a satisfying end to the traitorous dwarf with a final bolt.
Before the surprised and disappointed spirit Morgo can respond to Trevor, the young knight is whisked back into the material world by Vrindel's healing. When the druid hits the reaver high, the knight is able to surprise him down low and the two combine to snuff the life from the slaver.
The villagers manage to finish off the final guard when Britta, hobbling on one good leg successfully slips Finnigan's knife into the guard's kidney and other vital organs. With a final gasp he slumps forward, his axe clattering to the ground and as the echoes of the fallen weapon drift away there is nothing but silence inside the barn.
The two freed horses, look back to Ibrox shaking their heads and snorting softly while reaching out to sniff and snuffle his clothes.
"We recognize some. There's little Marianne, she's nice." The second adds.
"Oh. Yes, yes. Indeed she is. Always offers us apple slices." The first says as the two flip back and forth.
"Mmmm...I could use an apple right now. It's been terribly long since I've had a good apple."
"Right. It has been a long time. I must say those fellows were quite stingy with the apples."
Both turn to look at Ibrox and speak in unison. "Do you have any apples?"
Shouts can still be heard from outside and the smell of smoke is just starting to drift in from the open loft above.
The crack and splintering of wood sounds along the beach and a section of the old dock is torn down by Aterro. The move catches the big trollkin by surprise and although he tries to jump back, he is unable to get his feet under him and simply ends up tipping over the opposite side and crashing with a huge splash into the water. The wounded reaver also slips off the side but unlike the splashing and cursing trollkin, he does not return to the shallow surface.
Finally arriving on the scene, Gronar comes forward beckoning the other two reavers to hold on the beach. Ready to strike if Aterro should try to regain the dry shore.
While the Gronar and his men wait for Aterro, the shaman continues to direct her spell dousing the flames on the ship. More steam fills the air and for the moment obscures Zove from view as well as her view of the shore. The dock becomes slippery with sleet and the air chill as the magical storm does its work.
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"Run! Run COWARD!" Aterro calls out, laughing, as Ornfisk fumbles back to dry ground. "Where is thy braggart now? Where is the stalwart taker of slaves and leader of a hearty troupe? I stand before as but one man. ONE! MAN! And before a true follower of THOR you crawl away like DOGS!
You are VERMIN upon the EARTH and you can NOT stand before a REAL FOE!
What are the wages of a slaver? There! LOOK THERE! And there, and there! The CORPSES of your men LITTER the GROUND and you find yourself defeated by a LITTLE WATER! Ha!"
Aterro sighs as if in loss. "I was going to drown you, too. No weapon would I weild against you, if you had b!&##&%s enough to face me where I stand. But no, I did wish too much. Thor has granted me much this day, but to bury you in water while all you held dear burned with fire was too much to ask.
Such is life.
So too, I see thy druid is now the crux of thy plans. He is the real power behind the throne, and though you are now BERIFT of weapon to harm me, I can see that you look to him to get the arse out of fire as he, beseems, has so many times before.
He is good at putting out fires.
What about his own?
Oh, um, while being hit by a hammer, of course."
Seeing the last reaver fall in the barn, Ibrox jumps on the sturdiest of the horses and says, "Koyçu. Men sırtta köbüröök Dostordu keldim. Al emi, men silerge köp alma alasız."
He hopes both horses comply and move toward his friends. When the cheerful gnome approaches the former prisoners, "Which one of you is Britta Gleamguard? We've a letter from Rook Bentknee. We're here to rescue you. " He fishes the letter from his pack and throws it to one who identifies herself.
"We've two more companions outside the barn, so we need to find them quickly. Anyone have any apples nearby? The horses drive a hard bargain. They'll return soon. They particularly like Marianne."
Drenched by a shower of blood and worst, Trevor rises, pulled up by the haft of his axe as the Trollkin falls face first. He places a foot on the corpse and pulls his axe free.
Looking around, he says to the villagers: "This is your shot at freedom! We have friends outside, but the Reavers are many still. every blade counts! Every blow counts! Grab their axes, their swords, their helmets, and get out there and kill as many as you can before they organize!"
He then asks Khors to grant him the will to fight on, healing his wounds.
Seeing the last enemy fall and dreading the worst from the sounds and smells from outside the barn, Vrindel heads towards and opens the door.
Ice Knive
stick up and shiver their timbers.
"Fools die this day"! he yells coming forth covered in Trollkin blood some of it his own.
Finn gives Bronar's corpse a satisfied look before following Vrindel and firing at the same Reaver.
The flames on the ship sputter, flicker, and die out as Ornfisk rights himself in the water and sloshes toward the shore.
Sensing Zove's attempt to control her own shadow for unwanted purposes, the shaman manages to wrench control from the shadow fae before anything of substance can be revealed. But before she can follow up on her success, Aterro's hammer slams into her shoulder directing all of her attention and fury onto the war cleric. With a snarl she dismisses the storm, its work completed, and instead focus her magical energy on the war cleric and his chain mail.
"Let us see how your pathetic thunder whelp keeps you from roasting alive in that metal suit of yours." She says as steam suddenly burst off of Aterro's chainmail shirt because the metal itself it filled with the heat of a smiths furnace.
Not content to simply wait on shore, the reavers grab their short javelins and try to hit the enlarged cleric. The first two miss, but Gronar's throw lands true, finding a soft spot in Aterro's defenses.
Seeing the hit land, the reaver chief laughs. "Aye....you 'ave thinned t' weak from our ranks. For that I offer my thanks." He says brightly. "Now 'aving your head 'anging from our yard arm will be all the more fulfilling, and a reminder o' what 'appens to those who cross me."
The high pitched call of an hawk as it circles just above the top of the ships mast and Zove's position. If one didn't know better, it almost seemed like the bird was laughing at the shadow fae...
When Ibrox asks about Britta, the woman with the wounded leg and Finnigan's knife limps forward. "Rook sent you?" She says, surprised. "We thank you for your help but I hadn't expected Rook for several more days. Where is he?" She adds looking around for the old kobold before taking the letter from Ibrox.
While Trevor searches for boots Vrindel and Finnigan rush out the door and into the courtyard. Ready for more fire and fury, they instead find the area deserted, but with shouts and sounds of combat not far away toward the beach beyond the earthen berm that protects the village.
It's hard to tell, but both Vrindel and Finnigan are certain they hear Aterro's bellowing voice coming from the same direction...
Vrindel hears faint noises from the beach, and smells the smoke in the air. He locates the dying smoke cloud coming from the beach.
"I'll bet Aterro has something to do with that". As he stops jogs in that direction, he takes the time to armor himself with a spell making his skin as tough as the bark of a tree, then moves towards the sounds.
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Aterro calmly, unhurriedly, removes his suit of chain, slowly letting it drop into the water.
"He gives me wisdom enough to get away from a thing that does me harm. Whether you possess the same, shamen, is yet to be seen."
"'Cull the weak, eh? Hmm, yes, I'm sure having more troops with which to fight and conquer was just holding you back." He chuckles at his little joke.
"What you see as strength, I see as weakness." For some reason he's backing up. "What you see as a hot metal object, I see as flotsam in the water." He's still backing up, and the water rises to his chest. "What you see as bravery and braggadocios, I see as fear, fear that you are faced with something you can not kill...and certainly can't control."
He's still backing up, and getting lower. The water is up to his neck.
"What you see as dangerous weapons, I see as things wholly inappropriate for the battlefield, things that might be useful for quick raids against unprepared farmers, but are grossly underpowered and too large to carry in great quantity."
He's a goodly distance from the beach, probably 30 feet. And he's crouching low so only his head is above water.
"And what you see as power!" He calls from far away, "I see as someone that is STILL able to CATCH. ON. FIRE.
BLESSINGS OF LOKI!"
"He's a couple days behind us. There were problems at the last village that he was tidying up. Please excuse me. We've a crew of reavers to round up." Ibrox cheerfully replies to Britta.
Then, he tosses the letter to her and says in horse, "Sizdin atı emne? menin dos eerçisin. Biz seni alma aluuga çeyin emne üçün iştep jatabız."
Hopefully, the horses follow Vrindel, Trevor and Fin. Maybe, if Ibrox identifies the melee at the dock, the three can jump on the horses and make it there faster.
Trevor looks around quickly but realizes it will take much time to find a pair. Too much time.
Cursing/thanking Khors for the nice trials he has prepared for him and is now unleashing all at the same time, instead of, say, I don't know, one at a time perhaps, he rushes after the others and follows Aterro's voice booming in the distance.
"If there's trouble, Aterro is likely in the thick of it. Perhaps they tried to screw him as well as us, once we were separated?!" he comments as he tries to keep up with Vrindel, Finn, and Ibrox.
Finn follows Vrindel in lockstep, staying just a beat behind the druid, crossbow at the ready.
A hawk screeches overhead as Vrindel, Trevor, Finnigan come running to the top of the berm followed closely by Ibrox riding one of the mares. Or really it looks more like the gnome is simply being carried by the horse as it races past, leaps over the final height of the earthen barrier, and lands on the beach to continue the race toward the ship.
When the four heroes are able to see the beach clearly, they immediately spot Aterro, standing tall, actually very tall, in the water ducking spears and challenging several reavers on the shore. The area is somewhat obscured by a cloud of steam and smoke that surrounds the partially burned ship. A few flames still flicker feebly providing a little additional light.
The dock itself has a large section about fifteen feet offshore that has collapsed and climbing from the wreckage is the big trollkin Ornfisk. The surviving sections near the bow of the ship are littered with debris except for a single surviving ale barrel.
The trollkin shaman stands near the other reavers, harassed by a magical hammer and the frequent burst of holy fire as she casts her own magics in retaliation.
The shaman hisses as Aterro's holy fire starts to sear her skin and Zove's magical dagger strikes true burying itself into her flesh. But the pain seems to simply anger her further. She moves close to the water and jabs her staff into the soft ground chanting in a growling northern tongue. Suddenly the bay around Aterro is filled with a swirling, churning tangle of kelp and seaweed. The thick heavy vines quickly wrap themselves around the warcleric attempting to entangle and immobilize the big warrior.
Seeing their spears fall short of Aterro's position the reavers look for the hiding shadow fae. Two move over to the end of the docks and carefully move onto the rickety portion that still stands before the break. The first reaver sees nothing through the smoke but the second grins and points to where Zove's leg sticks out slightly from behind her illusionary ale barrel. He throws a spear, but it misses badly and clatters along the dock and skids off into the bay.
Ornfisk reaches the shore but is too busy shaking water from his gear to notice either Zove or the others coming over the berm. Also oblivious to the threat from behind, Gronar simply focuses on Aterro but is unable to hit the cleric with another javelin this time around.
Aterro and Zove both see a horse leap the berm and begin charging down the beach and three other familiar figures suddenly emerge from behind the earthwork.
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Trevor and Finnigan run forth to go and help their companions. As they run, Trevor says: "He's taking his armour off because of the water. Smart." and wonders why he didn't think of doing that when he jumped off the cliff.
As they near the battle, Finn stops and lets Trevor continue, raising his crossbow and aiming carefully for the Trollkin shaman.
Vrindel sprints forward, determined to end this once and for all.
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Aterro laughs.
He keeps laughing. Long and loud, like the end of a great play draws near. Even as the long-gripped tentacles wrap around him and threaten to drag him down, he laughs.
"HAHAHA! Zove! Zove we have won! We have already won! These fools before us do not know the trap has already closed, even as they think their victory to be so near at hand! HAHAHAHA!"
He enjoys a full moment of good mirth before at last bringing his mind back to the needed--and delicious--killing yet to be done.
"O, Shaman, I regret that I do not recall your name. No no, do not tell it to me now, I will not know it. But it is easy to forget important things. For instance, you have forgotten that I...
Aterro yells mightily as his enlarged form breaks the surface and the vines that had sought to entrap his immense form.
"O! by the HAMMER of THOR I have put off killing you TOO LONG! But now there is no need to delay, no need to continue this FARCE that you MIGHT still have a CHANCE of LEAVING this beach ALIVE!
You have WASTED your MAGICKS on ANNOYING me. Such is the path of your kind....
But now we can see what a WAR CLERIC can do! VAE VICTUS!"
A glowing hammer of pure light RUSHES from Aterro's hand toward the Shaman.
Even as the hammer of light strikes, the spiritual hammer descends upon the heretic shaman.
Is there a voice on the wind? Does the ephemeral hand of the laughing blonde man again appear to the unaided eye? Does the voice whisper to the raider in a dulcet baritone, 'You follow Jormungand? Father will drink in revel that you now meet him.'
Ibrox gallops past his companions. "Wahoo!"
The cheerful gnome surveys the scene and doesn't want to close into melee. He yells in horse, "Alp menin dosum. başkalar menen kandaydır bir jaman nerse bolot. Men sıylık üçün siler üçün alma köp keldim. Menin er dosum."
He slides off the mare and barely keeps his footing jogging a bunch of steps to a sliding stop.
In a stern voice "Ibrox!", Gronar hears a whisper of void speech in his mind.
Trevor and Vrindel race down the beach toward Aterro and the dock. Finnigan follows for part of the way but then stops and send a crossbow bolt sailing toward the shaman. At about the same moment Aterro calls on the power of Thor and sends a mighty bolt of lightning streaking toward the shaman. Sensing his power running astray the warcleric grits his teeth and simply wills the strike to follow his bidding and it lights up the shaman like one of the great fireworks of the dwarven cantons.
The trollkin shaman tries to struggles for a moment to regain her footing, but then Aterro's hammer comes crashing down and puts and end to the witch and whatever evil powers were at her command.
Ornfisk reacts with fury as his leader falls to the glassy sand. Leaping up the rickety steps of the dock, he charges and leaps across the gap created by Aterro's earlier destruction. Once on the other side he quickly moves down the platform toward the ship and illusionary ale barrel where Zove hides.
Gronar visibly winces as the void words from Ibrox strike his ears and momentarily rattle him to the core. Turning toward the new threat, he shouts a warning and charges with his remaining few followers to strike at the newcomers.
Ibrox's horse continues to charge down the beach, finding the freedom to run a welcome change from being cooped up in the barn stall for such a long time. Trusting the gnome to follow through on the promised apples, she manages to catch one of the reavers flatfooted, trampling the dwarf before he can get completely out of the way. But the reaver doesn't take without giving and plants his spear in the horse's side, causing her to whiny in pain and shy away from the dangerous dwarf.
The second reaver and Gronar charge up the beach, away from Aterro and toward Ibrox and the others. The two groups come together and blades swing in fury. Gronar reaches the gnome first and despite being shaken by the gnomes spell, lands a blow with his axe that crushes the the warlocks arm, shoulder, and lung.
The other reaver charges Trevor throws his spear which pins the knight right in the side. Drawing his axe he readies to close the rest of the way and finish off the bleeding and wounded boy.
Gronar's axe caves in Ibrox's side dropping the gnome like a sack of potatoes.
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The magical floating hammer, pleased with its reaping, floats over to the nearest dwarf and continues its smashing.
Displeased that Ornfisk should attempt a direct attack, Aterro PLUNGES forward, his giant body creating several medium-sized waves as he moves to intercept the evildoer.
"Whoop, where do you think you're going?" Giant Aterro states as one boulder-sized hand comes SWOOPING in to grapple.
Aterro turns about, his huge body's spin transports the berserker a goodly distance, where the water is deeper. "I believe we had a conversation about your ability...to swim?"
Aterro drops him.
Trevor grunts loudly as he gets cut. For a moment, he was happy they had managed to break the Reavers into two groups, releasing some of the burden piling up on their comrades, but they too were split.
Watching Ibrox go down, he winces. Every fiber in his body telling him to run away as fast and as far as he could...
But this is the new Trevor, he thinks, and Vrindel and Aterro are watching. He can't let them down.
Steeling himself for pain and the comments of the old man in the Afterlife's Waiting Chamber, he decides to go all out.
"KHOOOOOOOOOORS!"
The world seems to slow down for a moment around Vrindel. Desperation now drives his actions, as he sees his companions bloodied and falling around him. If he is to die today it will not be without extracting a price.
Suddenly the chaos of battle intrudes upon his senses. Quickly pulling forth his quarterstaff, he imbues it with the power of nature, and throws his weight behind a strike at the Reaver who just took Ibrox down.
Shillelagh (Bonus Action)
Damage
Dodge Action (Disadvantage on attack rolls to hit) AC16 (Barkskin)
Zove attempts to slow Gronar down but the hardy dwarf shrugs off her spell and continues moving toward her companions. Moments later Ornfisk looms over the shadow fae. As she scrambles down the dock and toward the stern of the ship, there is a great sloshing sound and Aterro grabs the trollkin. For a few moments the big reaver stays in place and nearly breaks the war cleric's grip. But Aterro calls on Thor once again, and once again the god responds granting his priest the strength and skill to overcome the trollkin and lift him off of the dock.
Trevor's axe lashes out as the reaver moving to engage him comes into range. The strike leaves a nasty wound across the slaver's arm, but does little to actually slow him down. With his enchanted staff Vrindel lands a blow on the reaver chief, but the raging dwarf barely notices the hit as he strikes back at the druid. Fortunately his anger fails him and Gronar's cut sails wide, missing Vrindel. Trevor's opponent is not so careless and manages to sink his axe into the knight's already battered body.
Recovering from her earlier shock, the village mare circles around and tries to attack the reaver she hit earlier who continues to stubble after being knocked to the ground by the big animal. But this time he is able to roll out of the way as her heavy hooves leave two deep imprints in the sand.
From the top of the berm there are shouts and angry calls as nearly all of the villagers once trapped in the barn reach the top of the berm. Hearing Vrindel's rallying cry, Britta and the village priest urge their fellows on and they come charging down the hill. Some with farm implements in hand, but others just with fists and feet.