GGGGUUURRRRRAAAAAAHHHLLLLLL!!!!!!!
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Björn, maintaining his characteristic predatory stillness, sounds out in booming laughter at his shield brother's words. "Þú ert of fyndið, bróðir! Gakktu úr skugga um að þú deyja síðasta svo blóm ló og ég hef ekki tækifæri til að reiðan á gröf þína." After the wolf is down to Betany, he begins his own descent into the darkness. Skald: You are too funny, brother! Make sure you die last so flower fluff and I do not have the opportunity to piss on your grave.
Bjorn nods at the wee faerie's words to her hund. Once she is finished and begins to descend, he takes up the rope and runs it over one shoulder and behind his back. The bear shaman crouches down to face Thistledown as he speaks, "Þú ert ekki bera, ekki einu sinni jarfi, en þú ert góður, trúr og grimmur hundur. Þegar þú deyja að lokum, ég mun stoltur klæðast pelt og segja alla sem athugasemd um á henni söguna um glæsilega þinni hálfu. Eins og það mun líklega fela í sér dauða húsmóður þína, mun það gera sögu þína allt meira vert. Nú, blóm ló þú ert bundin og eru að fara inn í þessi svarthol þar dauða ákaft bíður tækifæri til að rífa hold okkar, eta hjörtu okkar og naga á beinum okkar að sjúga út síðustu mergurinn í lífi okkar. Óttist ekki þetta næstum viss dauða að ég mun vera þarna með þér og endir minn mun draga hönd meyjar Óðins sig. Þeir geta jafnvel taka eftir þegar síðustu dropar af haust undirstaða frá eyðileggja líki Skåne er. Þú munt deyja í góðum félagsskap svo ekki sýna ótta við þvaglát á sjálfur þar sem það mun aðeins smán þína fljótlega til að fórna og taka smá húsmóður þitt í hund reiðan."
Bjorn grins widely at the wolf at his words of wisdom and encouragement. Roughly patting the mount on it's shaggy head, he praises it, "Góður hundur!", and lowers it down. Skald: You are no bear, not even a wolverine but, you are a good, loyal, and ferocious dog. When you finally die, I will proudly wear your pelt and tell all who remark upon it the story of your glorious end. As that will likely include the death of your mistress, it will make your saga all the more worthy.
Now, flower fluff, you are tied and are going into that black hole where death eagerly awaits the opportunity to tear our flesh, devour our hearts and gnaw on our bones to suck out the last marrow of our lives. Do not fear this almost certain death for I will be there with you and my end will draw the handmaidens of Odin himself. They may even notice when the last few drops of lifeblood fall from Skane's ravaged corpse. You will die in good company so do not show fear by pissing yourself as it will only disgrace your soon to be sacrifice and cover your tiny mistress in dog piss. Góður hundur! = Good dog!
Uncharacteristically, Bjorn holds back and takes up the last position in the procession down the stairs.
Bjorn strides over to the suit of leathers. A sneer of disdain curls his lip as he regards the trappings of man. Sighing in resignation, he begins to don the armour. Almost as an afterthought, he scoops up the two spears in a single hand and trudges back out of the armoury. Should no one else take the quivers, Bjorn will go back in, dump out the arrows, take the quivers and walk back into the storeroom where he fills both the quivers with food and slings them over his shoulder.
Bjorn follows Hack's lead.
The bear leaves his fellow viking in the capable hands of the prestur and heads back to the next unopened cell door. "Þessi herbergi verða að vera merkt. Þeir eru ekki einu sinni læst." Skald: These rooms must be checked. They are not even locked.
Bjorn slowly rises pushing himself up off of Skane's shield. shaking his head in confusion at how he ended up on the floor. "Dauður?" Skald: Dead?
DM randall793 wrote: Bjorn takes 10 damage.
Bjorn roars, slashing at the zombie directly in front of him.
The bear strikes the creature and falls down to lie against the body of his fellow viking.
Bjorn circles around behind one of the foul creatures in the next room lashing out as he advances.
His head leaning forward, shoulders hunching, Bjorn growls deep in his chest. Arms akimbo, thick black claws push out through his fingernails and his incisors grow into sharp fangs. His voice deeper and almost strangled, Bjorn roars, Skald:
Ríða mér dauða! Með klærnar mínum og tennur endurheimta slapp sálir yðar! = Ride me, Death! Through my claws and teeth reclaim your errant souls! GM: Totem Transformation to grow the claws and fangs. First 1 minute increment
Bjorn casts his gaze at this new room as he moves to the next in line and opens the door.
A couple of things... I have heard several people mention that the boards are not dotting the threads and they have missed the goings on of the game. I have found that if you click on your name at the top of the site and then click on the name of your character for this game, you will have a tab that says "Campaign". If you click that tab, it will list all of the threads for the campaign and how many new posts there are in each thread. It saves me time having to search through many pages of the individual forums hoping to find a dot and lets me know which forums are updated and need my attention. I hope this can be of help to others. The other thing is that I am leaving for Little Rock early Friday morning and most likely will not have access to update until late Sunday night or sometime Monday. (all times CDT) Please feel free to bot Bjorn during this time. He will just continue opening doors in a vain attempt to find Rianna (probably would go back up to the two doors near the stairs if they get through the current wall of doors). Let me know who will run him and I will PM his abilities and tactics (he has a couple of surprises).
Bjorn snorts at the sight in the cell and stomps over to the next door. He opens it.
Bjorn spies the long line of doors to his south and stalks over to the first, attempting to open it.
GM:
2nd level hit points random 1st level spell prepared (alphabetical) produce flame Bjorn nods appreciatively to Wesh for the healing before uttering in a guttural growl, "Ég eldast standa hér." So saying, the nekkid hairy man strides off into the unseen depths of the dungeon.
Skald: I grow old standing here.
Bjorn returns Skane's look. "Fangið er enn sterk og mun ég standa við bróður skjöldur minn." Looking to the cleric, the bear shaman asks, "Prestur Wesh, Þú hefur lækna að hlífa?" Spoiler: My arms are still strong and I will stand by my shield brother.
Priest Wesh, you have healing to spare?
Bjorn slowly slides Wesh back down to his feet. "Ég er hryggur, vinur prests" He claps the cleric on the shoulder and turns to his fellow vikingr. "Við vorum á leiðinni. Allt var vel. A skuggi féll á mig. Eins og ég sneri, var bara glampi af einhverju sem kemur á mig og þá var allt svart. Ég vaknaði hér, handjárnaða til að vegg. Það var Ogre sem söng uppskrift hans fyrir matreiðslu mönnum." The hulking brute's shoulders slump and his voice comes out as barely more than a whisper, "Ég hef ekki séð Rianna...' Spoiler: I am sorry, friend priest.
We were on the road. All was well. A shadow fell across me. As I turned, I saw a flash of something moving at me then all went black. I woke here, chained to that wall. There was an ogre who sang his recipe for cooking humans. I have not seen Rianna...
The ragged man peers at the vikingr from the corner of his eye. "Skane...? Hvað er ég að gera hér?" Spoiler: What am I doing here?
Too bad about the stuffy elf. There seems to be some confusion in game. I know that I posted just before Randall. Skane posted in response to me and Siral seems to have posted off of Randall's last post. I hope that everyone is seeing all of the posts. =D "Big Hairy Man" P.S. I work 11 pm to 8 am CDT and make most of my posts during that time. Hope that works with the game flow.
Björninn er aftur! Það fordæmdur álfur hafði besta opna þá Pointy eyru fyrir orðum mínum svo að hann græða öskra mína! Spoiler: The bear is returned! That damned elf had best open those pointy ears for my words lest he earn my roar!
Bjorn nods at the various plans and pushes his horse away from the path. Rolling his shoulders, he prepares to welcome the fishermen to his own hook and line.
Bjorn sniffs around for sign of anyone having recently been by the pier.
Hey all. Sorry for the prolonged absence. I moved last Friday and then promptly got sick. I didn't have Internet access at home (and none of my neighbors were nice enough to leave me an unsecured wireless network). The cable company finally came out today to install the cable modem at home just in time for me to return to work. I'll get to posting as soon as I can tonight.
Yeah, I am at 1,240 XP also, so it looks right, Wesh.
Waving his shaggy arms at the ranger, Bjorn decries his intent. "Nei! Nei! Gera ekki kasta þá í á. Þú vildi eini villa vatn og orsök þessir með straumnum til verða hræddur. Heimskulegur! Þeir ert aðgerð einmitt hvaða þeir ert millitíð til gera. Leyfi þá vera. Anyone who speaks Skald: Gera ekki kasta þá í á. Þú vildi eini villa the vatn og orsök þessir með straumnum til verða hræddur. Heimskulegur! Þeir ert aðgerð einmitt hvaða þeir ert millitíð til gera. Leyfi þá vera. = No! No! Do not throw them in river. You would only foul the water and cause those downstream to become scared. Foolish elf! They are doing exactly what they are meant to do. Leave them be.
At his oar brother's words, Bjorn nods his head sage agreement. "Já , margir fleiri hrææta vilja koma til this staður. Við mega andlit þá þangað til við ert þakinn í dýrð eða okkar leifar viða að sér hrúga æðahnútur í endaþarmsopi af skítur." Everyone who now has Skald as one of their languages: Já , margir fleiri hrææta vilja koma til this staður. Við mega andlit þá þangað til við ert þakinn í dýrð eða okkar leifar viða að sér hrúga æðahnútur í endaþarmsopi af skítur. = Yes, many more scavengers will come to this place. We may face them until we are covered in glory or our remains lay in heaping piles of s*@#.
Just like a woman to marry a man and then expect him to start changing.
Bjorn takes the goring better than expected, the wound not quite as serious as it should be. "Koma lítill grís! ÉG er hrífandi þú til markaður!" He sneers as he brings the scythe around for another swing.
Skane:
Koma lítill grís! ÉG er hrífandi þú til markaður! = Come little piggy! I am taking you to market! Rianna: Koma lítill grís! ÉG er hrífandi þú til markaður! = Come little grease! I are handing you to market!
"Whoop!" Bjorn cries out at the ferocity of the great boar. He charges at his porcine opponent, his scythe raised high above his head until the last second when he brings it around in a vicious slice.
Bjorn howls in delight at the challenge of the dire boar and scoops up his shiny new scythe. Calling upon the beasts of the land, he approaches the fight incredibly fast, nearly arriving in a single bound.
This game is good but the only thing that is a problem I can solve by putting a rank in linguistics at second level to understand half the banter. Wesh bráðabirgða- góð kaup benda. Þessi er the eini skarð ÉG geta sjá í this herferð. Hvenær allir að lokum koma í kring til tal the sannur tunga , það vilja verða mikill auðveldlega til miðla. ALL: Wesh bráðabirgða- góð kaup benda. Þessi er the eini skarð ÉG geta sjá í this herferð. Hvenær allir að lokum koma í kring til tal the sannur tunga , það vilja verða mikill auðveldlega til miðla. = Wesh makes a good point. That is the only gap I can see in this campaign. When everyone finally comes around to speaking the true tongue, it will become much easier to communicate.
Bjorn continues to struggle as he hauls Rianna across the river. He mutters to himself about a certain person's apparent allergy to gold and their subsequent swelling while he manhandles the rope.
Bjorn grabs the thrown rope and then smells the pungent odor of rot wafting through the area. At the sound of crunching, he becomes fairly well distracted, letting his bride flounder and nearly drown before getting her pulled across the river. "Shhh... Dauði fela réttlátur þarna." He says quietly as he picks up his scythe and begins stalking toward the boulder. As he nears, Betony's cries of alarm and panic at the travails of Thistledown's botched crossing ring out through the forest. Grimacing, Bjorn shrugs and charges around the far side of the boulder from his companions to flank whatever new horror awaits them. Skane:
Dauði fela réttlátur þarna = Death hides just over there. Rianna: Dauði fela réttlátur þarna = Death hides just there
Bjorn strips out of his hides, stuffing them into his backpack along with his club and pouches. He ties the javelins across the backpack before putting it back on. He takes the lead in crossing the river, wading well out into the water before needing to swim the rest of the way. He immediately sinks beneath the slow moving waters.
He immediately sinks from view beneath the slow moving waters...
...before bobbing back up, his long hair plastered to his face.
The druid slowly makes his way across the river, using one hand and both feet to propel himself.
Making slow and steady progress, he continues to swim.
The northman is nearly there, making one last push to reach the opposite shore...
...and falters, sinking back into the river.
Bjorn immediately returns to the surface and kicks toward shore.
He climbs up onto the other bank and waves at his fellows to follow.
Bjorn nods at Rianna's words to the prestur. Smiling he responds, "ÉG hafa okkar teppi hér.", gesturing to the gore and viscera crusted furs hanging from his massive frame. Skane:
ÉG hafa okkar teppi hér. = I have our blankets here. Rianna: ÉG hafa okkar teppi hér. I have our blankets here.
Bjorn points to other side of the river where the two branches start. 'Undirstaða af á gaffall afla a kaldur gola hver vilja hjálpa rennandi vatn til viðurværi napur skordýr á flói. Þessi staða kápa okkur á tveir hlið afgangur eini einn vegur til pukur upp á okkur.' Skane:
Undirstaða af á gaffall afla a kaldur gola hver vilja hjálpa rennandi vatn til viðurværi napur skordýr á flói. Þessi staða kápa okkur á tveir hlið afgangur eini einn vegur til pukur upp á okkur. = Base of river fork provides a cool breeze which will help running water to keep biting insects at bay. That position covers us on two sides leaving only one way to sneak up on us. Rianna: Undirstaða af á gaffall afla a kaldur gola hver vilja hjálpa rennandi vatn til viðurværi napur skordýr á flói. Þessi staða kápa okkur á tveir hlið afgangur eini einn vegur til pukur upp á okkur. = The foundation of the fork catch a cool breeze which will help with running water to keep biting insects at bay. This post covers two of us on the side leaving only one way to sneaks up on us.
Bjorn cleans his scythe and sits down on the fallen log. Pulling out his whetstone he begins to resharpen the blade completely ignoring the bodies.
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