Bjorn hangs a little back as his comrade trudges away.
With a resigned nod the giant druid rumbles something in thickly accented Common!
"Fairwell little ones."
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Björn tips the corpse over with his boot. With a spit of disgust the giant Northman eyes his companion sceptically; "Goblins og hálf starved þjófar? Þetta eru engar óvinir þess verðugir us bróður. Norður kallar, við ættum að hlusta ..." þurstunga (Giant): Goblins and half starved thieves? These are no foes worthy of us brother. The North calls, we should listen...
Round 2 Chuckling at the ineffectual stab from the bandit, Björn swings low at his foe's legs - seeking to harvest the man like a farmer cutting sheathes of wheat: :
Round 1 Bjorn scowls at the appearance of the bandits, then barks a laugh as he lumbers forward through the undergrowth, his lang shanks unimpeded by the terrain afore, with a menacing grin, the giant brings his mighty scythe to bear on the foe before him . :
Björn rises, stretching impossibly tall as he welcomes a new day. At Wilhelm's words the giant druid looks skyward and nods with a smile. With a soft, almost wistful tone the Northman speaks; "Far Vinter våkner fra sin søvn ... Snart den store bjørnen vil bli trukket nordområdene igjen for å sove ..." þurstunga (Giant): Father Winter awakes from his slumber... Soon the great bear will be drawn North once again to sleep...
The two Northern giants loom in the peripherals of the fire light; Skäne sitting on a tree stump listening intently whilst smoking his clay pipe - whilst Björn stands sharpening his war scythe... the rhythmic strokes of his whetstone complimenting the campfire talk. At Wilhelm's words the huge druid asks a question in their grumbling tongue; "Hve langt er síðan fjölskylda hans lögðu Mikla Veginum?" þurstunga (Giant): How long since his family journeyed the Great Road?
Bjorn looms above Rayla casting a jaundiced scowl from upon high at the takings from the stash. The giant gives a derisive snort then hefts his scythe as he grumbles in the Northern tongue; "Magre Planter fra magre fiender." þurstunga (Giant): Meagre pickings from meagre foes.
As the hobgoblin is executed Bjorn looks at his companion, then shrugs his massive shoulders with a grumbling curse; "Þessar suðurríkjamanni varpa samúð yfir butchery á fjandmaður án vopna? Ef þú telur að miskunn - að láta það deyja með blað í hendi hans ... Annars láta bein sín á mikla veginn og láta okkur fara fram!" þurstunga (Giant): These Southerners shed pity over the butchery of a foe without weapons? If you feel mercy - let it die with a blade in its hand... Otherwise leave its bones on the great road and let us move forth!
Bjorn eyes move to the distraction caused by Rayla's intimidating posture and threats of amputation to the hobgoblin. His lack of attention draws a cuffing blow from Skäne - which in turn the giant wild-man counters by grabbing his oar brother's throat and roughly tilting his shaggy head toward the unfolding drama behind the ranger; "Líta bróður. Engillinn blóð hefur ögn af djöflinum í henni! Har! Þetta gæti verið áhugavert nei?' þurstunga (Giant): Look brother. The angel blood has a little of the devil in her! Har! This could be interesting no?
At his oar-brother's words, the huge wildman's eyes glitter and he roars a reply; "Já. Loks fjandmaður verður athygli okkar! Har!" þurstunga (Giant): Aye. Finally a foe worthy of our attentions! Har!
The skirmish over, the huge Northman glowers down at the prone hobgoblin, growling in his native tongue; "Bróðir - hvers vegna gera suðurríkjamanni óska að tala við þennan veika hlutur?" þurstunga (Giant): Bróðir - hvers vegna gera suðurríkjamanni óska að tala við þennan veika hlutur?
Like the bear nipped at by the flea the giant druid once again tries to cut down her goblin foe: : :
Bellowing her battle cry, the wounded she-bear attempts to cut the legs from the goblin before her : "Graaaahhhhhhhhhhrrrrrr!" :
"Oh Skane... tusen takk for saving me... and who is this fine figure of a fighting man who calls himself Hack..." ;)
Round 2
Enraged, the She-Bear brings her long claw to bear, aiming a brutal swing at the leading orc; : :
Round 1
The Great She Bear of the North bursts forth from the thicket, war scythe arcing towards the nearest orc with a feral growl;
: :
Bjorn(hildr) invokes the power of the bear and moves quickly off through the undergrowth, mighty warscythe glinting menacingly with the moonlight;
DMRandall: Randall... could Bjorn use his Woodland Stride ability to move through the undergrowth and flank the oncoming foes?
The Viking Druid(ess) nods at the wisdom of the Brambleknight; "Aye... if needbe I too can track using the keen senses of the Great Bear... and can converse with animals and Bramble's doggy as we go..." :
Bjorn(hildr) smiles and gulps down more of the tasty wine. "Arrows look good quality alfur... for the bowfolk amongst us... For others THIS... (raises the bottle skyward)... will suffice har-har-har!"
Striding into the western room Bjorn(hildr) balefully glares at the impatient alfur, then turns attentions to the bottle in the master chamber, giving it a good sniff before shouting to Skane and taking a hearty swig; "Fleiri suður- hland neitun efi bróðir?!" : Speakers of the Great Words of the North: Fleiri suður- hland neitun efi bróðir?! = More southern piss no doubt brother?!
The great druid(ess) mutters gruffly towards the western door while pinching her/his nose; "Nicht-soil..."
Bjorn(hildr) approaches the western door but does not enter. Instead the massive druid(ess) sniffs curiously at the door, cocking her head as she listens between deep snorts; :
At the musings of her shield brother, the Great Druid(ess) nods her head once, braided hair bobbing; "Ja" She then walks up to Rosslyn and spreads a green slime across her brow and round her eyes with a grin: Nótt til ljós Skald:
Nótt til ljós. = Night to light
The Northmen scour the lower level, both attempting to notice anything untoward or remarkable about their surroundings, whilst staying alert for threats;
:
: : : : :
"When we track those curs down... the pig faced brute that felled me, will be split asunder by my scythe and no other!" The huge druid(ess) lumbers inside, flanking the priest and staying close to Rianna.
:
Her heart strong... her bond to her cubs stronger... the Great She-Bear refuses to leave this mortal coil... yet...
Surging forward Bjordhildr joins her shield bróðir in the frey, roaring as she brings red death to the curs who threaten her cubs;
: :
Emitting a low growl, the huge Northwoman sprints forward, war-scythe raised, eager for these scavengers to taste her claw;
: :
With a brutal cut the druidess seeks to cut a furrow in the other slumbering guard;
:
Bjornhildr readies an attack at the sentry just feet from her;
: :
The druidess of the North sniffs the air, tastes the breeze and scowls at the building; : Softly she hisses to her cubs; "In the common room, a shadow bearing fire can be seen... the shroud of dust hides it to most of you... but not a hún björn's eyes..."
Okay almost have Bjornhildr up and running at her new level... Need to roll for HP and double check all my math!
Randall and Co I'm currently running Bjornhildr in Drayen's absence but also realise that she's not levelled up... I've emailed Drayen about this and his status - hoping he'd be back with us at this impending climax, but am doubley wary: Would rather not level Bjorn up in Drayen's stead as The Great North Bear is his character (while I know he'd trust me to do the big gal justice... its a principle thing!) Would rather we had a 2nd level druid going into this stage than a 1st level one... [extra hp, skills, spells and some nifty bear totem abilities...] could be a difference maker? Thoughts? Particularly from Randall would be welcome here before we're knee deep in things!
The jotunn-sized druidess nods nonchelantly at the others plan, like a mother bear appeasing her young. She growls quietly and affixes her gaze on the sentries...
On cue the tall, wild druidess adds her wisdom to the pot; "Til höggva dúnn a tré byrjun á undirstaða. Við öxl gera sami með þessir stigamaður!" To emphasise her point she makes a sweeping cut through the ground floor of the diagram with her mighty war scythe. Speakers of Skald, tongue of the wise, words of the North: Til höggva dúnn a tré byrjun á undirstaða. Við öxl gera sami með þessir stigamaður! = To chop down a tree start at base. We should do same with these bandits!
That was a great use of 'Indifferent Cop, Bad Cop'. :P I thank thee. Was fun, gods only know how nasty they'd get under my sole control... Damn hp rolling is impressive - here's me thinking Skane was supposed to be the tough one - Wesh and Bethony are pretty nails! @Wesh - wise man, those who speak with the cold voice of the North are marked for great things... :)
As she wipes her scythe clean the imposing drúída hisses at the man adding to the air of threat; " You will draw us a landakort... a map... you southern cur, or you will wear the blóð örn!" : (this prompts further menacing chuckles from Skane)
The jotunn tall Ulfen druidess strides from the undergrowth and brings her scythe to bear with an oath; "ÉG er a dóttir af okkar Norður Vindur! Ofurlítill suður- ÉG munu uppskera þú eins og a vor uppskera!" : :
Skald speakers: ÉG er a dóttir af okkar Norður Vindur! Ofurlítill suður- ÉG munu uppskera þú eins og a vor uppskera! = I am a daughter of our North Wind! Puny southerns I shall reap you like a spring crop! [ooc]Ahhh its good to have the valkyrie back :)
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