Search Posts
Ayuh, same, hoss. *pt-DING!* <--- sound of chaw in spitoon.
Honestly, I have picked up so many games that if this one started really going quickly again, my head might explode. For my part, I rather enjoy the sporadic nature of this game, the pacing is fine by me. If it did pick up, though, that'd be OK, too, humor aside. You guys are all great to play with, some of the best on the boards.
Jamison falls in line behind Euron, concerned with tracking the beasts. 'Twould be a damned shame if more 'o these things existed. Can't have 'em carryin' children off inter the night. The cleric punctuates this thought with a generous stream of tobacco juice, placed off to one side so as not to disrupt the tracks.
Yeah, I won't be around this weekend either, really. Next week I am travelling to Atlanta for work, as well - so my posting will happen mostly in the evenings.
'Fraid not, Karthas. He's never been by m' farm, or ah'd remember 'im right quick. Sorry, lad.
After the worgs are dead - which Jamison will see to, personally beheading each in turn with his greataxe - the cleric, now shrunken to normal size, channels energy to heal his wounds and those of his companions.
Lying prone, Jamison calls out to Erastil in a thick, booming voice. He grows in size, and brings his greataxe to bear on the worg that tripped him.
Unnatural... DEVIL!
Careful, fellers - 'n Miss 'Seldra, beggin' yer pardon. Any idjit caught in a trap screamin' like that's probly attracted predators from miles around. Best 't be careful, here. The big man loosens his greatsword in it's sheath, ensuring that it can be pulled with a moment's notice, and follows alongside Eseldra.
Jamison does as the Kellid requests, moving into the cave to determine if there are any other entrances.
Jamison sniffs the air, and spits tobacco juice liberally off to the side. 'S funny, that rat's dead, 'n yet ah still smell a rat. P'raps he's in that hole over yonder. Anybody get hurt?
Seeing the Kobold, Jamison quickly lets another shaft fly. Oh no yeh don't, yeh little bugger'!
Jamison looses his bow and takes a shot at the creature. If it ain't natural, I ain't in th' mood t' play nice. Dad guym thing nearly took my head off!
Aw, heck, Hiram! Yuh didn't say 'th bad aim was contagious!
"Jus' gotta throw like Pappy showed me!" Ducking casually out of the way of the stone, Jamison chuckles. Ayuh, 'cause that'n sure didn't! If'n it even had a pappy.
Jamison appears unconcerned, spitting chaw quietly into the grass. If you want I sh'd go take a look, Miss 'Seldra, jus' say th' word.
Jamison walks up behind Tyr, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. Ah wouldn't worry about it much, Tyr. We got it handled. Nobody here's doubtin' yer bravery or yer prowess in battle. Caught us unawares, they did - but they paid fer 't, dinnt they? The big man laughs, a low rumbling sound that carries through the campsite. He moves in toward the frightened civilians. Folks, don't fear, none. As yeh can see, this situation's well in hand. These good folk aim t' bring the lawlessness in these parts to an end, and they're plenty capable o' doin' so. Ah'd go so far as t' say that while you're with them - us, I s'pose ah sh'd say - ye've got naught t' fear from things that go bump 'n the night. Now, ah'm not fer 'vangelizin, but I cast my lot with 'ol Deadeye, and Ah'm gona thank 'im fer our well bein'. Anyone wants teh join me, yer welcome to. Jamison takes a knee. Lord O' the Land, hear me, if yeh will. Tonight ah thank you fer yer watchfulness and yer blessin' in keepin' all these fine folk livin' tuh see another day. Ah'd pray that yeh keep on with blessin' us, and help these good people t' get home t' their families n' whatever other business they might have. Thanks, like. He goes to rise, but then quickly thinks better of himself and bends his knee again. Oh, 'n if yeh would, please help yer servant Hiram 't start shootin' like 'is daddy taught 'im, 'n stop tryin' t' skewer the small woodland creatures in th' background of th' fights. Amen. Jamison winks at Hiram as he makes his way to the center of the camp, exhausting his supply of positive energy channelling before setting his alarm spell along one of the outskirts of camp and heading to sleep.
Jamison moves to provide light. Ugly buggers, n' that's fer sure.
Jamison moves and channels energy to heal himself and any wounded companions.
Shinking briefly back down to normal size, Jamison mentally focuses on his crops back home, how they start from seeds and grow into maturity every year before retreating back into the soil to begin the process anew the next year. He again grows in size to match the behemoth before him.
He then takes a mighty swing at the creature he faces.
Continuing to bellow, Jamison grows to match the creature's size as he runs. The cleric throws himself into the brush, his greataxe cutting a swath through the foliage.
Bellowing like a man with nothing to lose, Jamison jogs toward the source of the movement.
Jamison moves to the center of the group, raising his hands and calling out in a firm voice devoid of anxiety. With Erastil's blessing, let's go forward 'n conquer his enemies. All of 'em, like.
Remember, the woods and hillsides surrounding the campsite are still covered in the darkness of night. Currently the only light is provided by your campfire. Also, the horses and prisoners are making quite a bit of noise in their fright.
Jamison strides quickly toward Hiram, continuing his prrayers to Old Deadeye as he does so. He lightly lays a hand upon Hiram's shoulder, embuing him with Erastil's protection. Deadeye be with ya in the moments ahead, ol' friend.
As Jamison moves in response to Eseldra's requests, his mind comes out of a fog he has been in all day. Alright, 's true, ah was hopin' Mary'd be with these folk, an' she wasn't. But Ol' Deadeye don't reward folk who lean on their pitchforks whilst others are bearin' the load o' the work. Get yer ass in gear, Jamison! Deadeye, yer light if yuh please, beggin' yer pardon, the priest mutters under his breath, surprised as ever when his enormous axe begins to emit a soft radience. Ah don't know as ah'll ever get used t' this, the burly farmer wonders as he quietly calms the civilians.
May I have the potion of Shield of Faith +2? I promise I'll keep you up, Karthas - even if it means going down myself to do it. :-)
It does strike me that we might use this setup to approach th' Stag Lord's encampment. It'd allow us 't get close in-like without bein' seen and attacked right away. Might even be able t' walk in th' front door like that, yep. Jus' a thought.
Jamison, decimated by not finding his wife among the captives, merely works that much harder. At the old woman's shout, he turns his head, sighs, and steps forward with his friend Hiram to hear the reply. He listens particularly to determine what type of medicine the old woman needs.
Jamison pauses in the frantic search for his beloved wife, and arches an eyebrow.
Jamison rushes around from wagon to wagon, hoping desperately to find Mary, his wife.
Jamison spits absently, then follows in Karthas' trail, calling on the might of Ol' Deadeye to heal the wounded warrior.
Jamison groans as he rises, takes a brief step forward, and channels the healing energy of Erastil. Round 6 Action
DM Max:
Jamison growls, seeming to temporarily be more of an extension of the Land than a man. He booms out an incantation, stomps forward (to AH27/28-AI27/28), and stretches a long arm toward Karthas, forsaking his own needs in deference to the fury of the Kellid warrior.
Round 2 Jamison drops his shield and rushes forward, doubling in size through the power granted by Erastil. He hefts his Greataxe and levies it at the bandit who is occupied with Stirgy.
Jamison continues to advance, under cover of his large wooden shield.
Jamison moves in on the bandits, his rage at the loss of his wife growing by the second.
Jamison casts Shield Of Faith on himself as quietly as possible from atop his horse.
Jamison could make use of the bow, I believe. He's got the requisite +2 Strength Bonus, and his god is Erastil, so I have proficiency with the Longbow, unless I'm mistaken. He's kind of a "hulk smash" character, but it surely wouldn't hurt to have some sort of ranged attack available to him. He'll take it, if noone else wants it.
Jamison simply spits chaw casually into the fire, squinting at the two. Relax, Hi'rm, ah don't reckon as these two - regardless o' disguises - mean us any harm... mayhap they've hit on a tender spot with 'ee, but music can have that effect... course'n if they have any knowledge o' a one-horn 'round these parts, they should out with it in plain-speak. He raises an eyebrow in the direction of the strangers.
Jamison casts his standard Alarm ward before falling asleep for the night.
Jamison pulls his breastplate off before swimming to the far side, packs it on his mount, and slowly but carefully makes his way across the water, leading his horse.
Fine by me, Hiram. Here, ah'll set an Alarm at the front door so's you don't have tuh watch it so closely. Jamison utilizes the Alarm spell he's prepared to ward the area of the front door, attempting to catch as many windows as possible within the area of effect as well. Kri Moonbow has not participated in any online campaigns. |