Kazmir growls, "We don't have time for this Matheus. I'm going after this chest, I certainly don't trust some local to find it."
He eyes the guards standing near him, easily able to hear. "Get out of my way or you'll never arrest anyone again."
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Kazmir adds his own attacks on the would-be ambusher.
Kazmir feels the nuts more as a patter of hailstones then an actual attack and his curse is more of habit then of actual annoyance. Grumbling he rubs the back of his stoneplate helmet and turns. Then he annoyance changes to surprise and then anger as he spots the armed rooftop crossbow men. Archers. They didn't even dare to come down to the street. 'Petronia, want to throw one down here?"
Nuts don't cause any damage?
I can't think of a safer place then between me and Petronia.
Kazmir takes a step forward, blocking the line of sight between Rafarta and the chest. The dwarf frowns and says, 'This chest is bound to Herr Skagni and we are oath bound to deliver it up to none but him."
Kazmir glowers in the background like an angry mountain. The dwarf was sure this was all a waste of time. If these men cared about Hjort they would have already done something about them. Still, he wasn't going to interrupt Matheus. Why bother?
"I told you." Kazmir rumbles like a landslide from the back of the group when the old woman talks about the bandits. "I told you we should have killed them, if only to protect the locals. Bandits are nothing but a plague. The sooner we get rid of them and this Hjort, the better."
Kazmir nods and says, "I vote we delay opening the chest for longer. We made a promise not to open it and deliver it. We may still be able to honor that oath, although the prospect of that looks dim. Besides, one mystery at a time. What if the contents of the chest open up another can of worms? Let us deal with this Hjort, first."
'Maybe we head for the roughest, worst tavern in town and start asking questions?" Kazmir says, "Rattle this Hjort, and bring him to light? I do not think he is some mastermind to hide long."
Kazmir frowns, "I doubt the neighbors know or saw much. If they really knew what was going on, the town probably would have done something about a pack of bandits waiting near the ruins." "Any chance we could find more about where to find this Hjort? he seemed to be a known figure in the city."
Kazmir sits in a corner, staring at the ceiling. Finally he says, "What are you doing over there, Ner? You are a strange companion my friend, but valiant in a fight."
Kazmir loves a good game of hide and seek.
Kazmir grunts in agreement, he had no wish to go exploring the town. "Good. I will wait with Ner and stare at this chest."
"This halfman has done more in battle then you have, innkeeper." Kazmir says, voice short. He could not just let an insult to a fellow warrior pass. "His name is Ner, I suggest you call him that going forward." The dwarf goes on, the same burr in his gravelly voice.
It comes down to reality, and it's fine with me cause I've let it slide
Kazmir spits in disgust as the man empties his stomach onto the snow. He turns to Petronia, "Bah, let them live. Are you really going to be worried if they sneak up on us? They were hardly much of a threat and clearly know nothing. Let's get back inside and find the real enemies." The dwarf moves to the chest and grabs a handle.
Kazmir is just assuming they are bandits and assuming bandits are free range. He isn't beyond all reason though, and will probably listen to Mathues.
Kazmir grunts at Matheus, "You can't be serious about letting him live? The man attacked us in cold blood. Besides, he is clearly little more then a hired bandit, a plague on every nation. Look at these other houses. We'd be doing them a favor by killing these rouges. What is an oath to a man like this? A man who attacks on orders from some unknown patron, for money."
I also think the GM is trying to tell us to keep a closer eye on the chest!
Kazmir rolls his shoulder as Matheus's magic binds the wounds together, and the bleeding stops. "Thanks." he says shortly before turning to their captive. The dwarf grabs the notes and reads them narrowing his eyes. "Where were you supposed to deliver your captives? You must have had a meet-up point in mind."
Kazmir slips out of the rage, bottling up the battle trance. As the feeling slowly fades, the pain in his should increases and he can see the blood freely running down his arm. The stony armor is coated in a thick layer of dwarf blood. The dwarf pulls out a wand and says, "Can anyone use it? One of them cut me a bit." As they gather around their captive he asks, "So, are you going to talk or do we have to start removing bits?" he hefts the still bloody hammer, "I'm no surgeon but I can get the job done."
Now that is how it is done!
Kazmir let out a long, low growl as the Ulfen attacked yet again, scoring a blow through the armor. While it hurt, even through the battle rage, the dwarf mastered it, ignoring the blood for now. Instead he turned on the man, raised the hammer high and brought it down on the man's head with a force like a falling tree.
Kazmir hears the roars and shouts of Ner behind him, and the dwarf turns. He sees the Ulfen thug set upon on all sides and grins knowingly. An animal at bay. The barbarian lunges toward him.
Kazmir barely feels the blow land on his shoulder, scoring a new wound. In the grip of battle frenzy, the dwarf had shrugged off far worse injuries. Instead he squares up against the thug in front of him, hefts his warhammer and lets fly a mighty blow.
Kazimir's blood quickens as his foes charge in and around him, flowing around him like water. A true battle! Although the dwarf is a disappointed as most of the Ulfen blows simply skate off his thick stoneplate. Hardly worthy fools. Indeed, one enemy comes too close!
Confronted with foes on all sides, and one shouting in some unknown tongue, Kazmir decides the time is right. He unleashes the battle rage that is always roiling near the surface, that white hate that drives his hammer. The dwarf can feel new vigor pour into his limbs!
But the new energy is too much and his rage filled blow goes wild.
Kazmir grins as an axe grates across his armor, drawing a thin line of blood where it catches his meaty shoulder. Battle and struggle! "The fish come into the net!" The dwarf shouts, pulling his earthbreaker free. He would not be outshone again. He hefts the heavy hammer, enjoying the weight. Then, with a wordless roar he charges forward toward the closest thug.
I imagine Kazmir or Petronia carried it and it is sitting in the snow near us while we looked for tracks?
I'm helping!
Kazmir peers at the tracks, "Nothing, these are all cold. I would guess the neighbors came after it was all over, either to help or loot, depending on how popular Skagni was." When Matheus says they are being watched, the dwarf grunts, "Why are we being so secretive? They painted for us to keep out, we are hardly going to blend in. Either they are our foes and have already marked us, or are allies too scared to greet us. Either way.." Kazmir turns toward the supposed figure (the dwarf can't see it) and bellows, "WHO GOES THERE?"
Kazmir grunts at the burned out husk of a building. The dwarf, a natural pessimist, was hardly shocked to find trouble. What mission of this type ever went smoothly? "We should at least search for tracks, and get an idea how long it has been like this. If it was today or yesterday....that is worse then if Skagni just wore out his welcome with the locals." The cold meant nothing to the dwarf and his magical boots kept the nipping wind at bay as he moved to root through the cold ruins. "Besides," he called back, "Maybe they left a trap or surprise that could reveal something of their intentions and identity."
The ale is thick and more hearty then before (not to mention it is the third....fourth? tankard). Kazmir can feel it land like a hot stone in his belly, releasing a dizzying fire to his limbs. His stomach clenches in pain, but like a true dwarf, it merely drives him on. With a roar he heaves on the knotted rope with enough strength to make the fibers stretch, almost outdoing Petronia and Matheues combined. His feet have firm purchase on the stone floor of the tavern and the heavy dwarf does not slide. For a moment his usually grim look vanishes to replaced by a grin of victory.
Kazmir raises a glass to Petronia's 'toast', it would be unthinkable otherwise. Whatever his problems with dwarven culture, this was one that he had never had much problem with. However, as he watched the strong, lithe woman down the frothing liquid a small part of him flashed to his father, raving and drunk, beard clotted with foam, roaring in anger, fists raised...... Kazmir shook his head and down his own ale. The dwarf watches as Petronia defeats the local champion at stork wrestling and finds himself letting out a cheer when she topples him. Rivals yes, but a good victory was a good victory. Besides, they were comrades in arms...of a sort.
Kazmir grunts at Petronia's offer at first and turns to Matheus, "You will be the judge? Or do you wish to contest with us?" The dwarf actually smiles, "I can wrestle you both at once." He clenches a massive, scarred fist.
Kazmir is about to decline when Petronia puts it in frame of a contest, a battle of wills and constitution. That, of course, he could not turn down, not from someone who was quickly becoming a rival. In the Salty Tusk, Kazmir orders a stout ale and finds a table, keeping at eye on Petronia the whole time. He was waiting for the woman to make the first move, whatever it might be.
Kazmir grunts sourly at Ner, "I've heard better songs. You should stick to skulking about in silence." Instantly the dwarf regrets the insult so he stalks away, looking out over the city. When Mathues talks about the chest the dwarf says, voice deep and gravel-rich, "I'll stay and guard the chest. Go, learn what you can."
A sparring match between them?
Too bad the GM is away Matheus, we could get in on the underground/tavern fighting scene.
Kazmir growls when Petronia leaves him with a (as he sees it) back-handed insult. 'Contributed'. The dwarf, still rushing from battle, almost stalks over and tries to toss the woman into the waves below. No, that would be unwise. Although it would be a worthy fight. Instead the dwarf become increasingly morose and annoyed at the ocean journey until Kalgard. He is so depressed, he almost decides to enter the city, get drunk and pick a few bar brawls, something he hasn't done in a long time. Not since he started following Our Lord in Iron. Grumbling he shakes his head and decides against such adolescent foolishness.
Kazmir grunts in satisfaction and also disappointment when the last hag is reduced to a gory puddle of skin, rotten clothes and crustaceans. The dwarf gives the latter a heavy stamp, feeling the shell of a crab give way under his weight. He glances to Petrona and says, "You fight well, woman. That was enjoyable." The dwarf hides his own internal annoyance at how little he was actually able to do. He turns to Ner and says, voice rough, "Good job, little man. You are a worthy fighter, despite your size." He moves to clap the halfling on the shoulders with a huge stoneplate guantled hand. "And bloodied too? A fine token of Gorum's favor."
Kazmir watches the small halfling duck and weave around the hag, nimble and capable. The dwarf sees an opening and strikes with his hammer.
after he swings, he feels the battle rage boil inside of him. That churning cauldron of power and anger that is so potent...so tempting. The dwarf forces it down, knowing that this battle is going well enough and he may need it later. Instead he contends himself to swing at the hag, hoping to turn it into paste. Besides, he doesn't want Petrona to outshine him.
His blow misses entirely and merely takes a chunk out of the ship's gunwale, throwing up a cascade of broken splinters.
The hag's horrifying, distended face makes Kazmir's usually iron stomach turn over, bubbling with disgust. His muscles slack as his body rebels against such sights. Still he manages to say to Petronia, "Get the crew back, we can't afford to lose too many of them." With that he steels his gut and plunges into battle against the same hag the tattooed woman is fighting.
That roll could have gone better.
Kazmir grunts a curse as he watches Matheus struggle in the water. The dwarf is not upset his ally is in danger, danger is the risk they all took on willingly for this mission but because he is unable to help, to join the fray. To watch a struggle take place outside of his reach? It made his blood boil. Then he saw the other two figures heading for the ship and Kazmir grinned a mad smile.
"Clear the rail!" Kazmir bellows to the crew, "Don't let them drag you down! Up here, we can fight them!" With that he pulls the massive earthbreaker from his back, hefting it in his hands. Let them come
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