About Magan AethelingSlayer 2 Male human slayer 2
Magan has slightly curly blonde hair, a full beard and small scars on his face. His features are weather worn making him look much older than his 23 years. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------------------- - .
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Init +4; Senses Perception +4 ----------------
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Speed 30 ft. Melee:
Twf:
Ranged:
All at +1 attack and damage VS studied target. -----------------------
Str 14, Dex 17, Con 13, Int 12, Wis 8, Cha 10
Feats:
Skills:
skills table:
Skill Rank Ability Trained Misc Total
Languages Saxon-West saxon, Brettonnic - cornish
Traits:
Upkeep: Poor ---------------------
Light horse - Ealing, war trained with military saddle
Mundane:
Armour:
Weapons:
Consumable:
Group loot: 28sp, agile breastplate, handaxe, dagger, arrows Isolde: Buckler and Handaxe Special :
Ealing:
horse stats:
Light Riding Horse
DEFENSE AC 11, touch 11, flat-footed 9 (+2 Dex, –1 size)
OFFENSE Speed 50 ft.
STATISTICS Str 16, Dex 14, Con 17, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 7
Background - a back story backwards The year 598 - Brittany "Bletius will have you hanged for this" Tobias drools. His leg is split open ankle to knee where Jeffrey had cut it open moments before taking Tobias' knife through his throat. Magan turns, pulls a giant sword from the saddle of his horse. The blade has been dulled and there is no glint as he raises it above his head. Small dents in the handle and guard betray where jewels have been prised from the hilt. The whistle as it swings effortlessly through the air sell the quality of the craftsmanship. The thud of Tobias'head on the floor, the efficacy of the swing. Then there were 3. 3 minutes earlier
Once again, steel flies, wood crunches, blood flows 10 minutes earlier
Ealing suddenly rears, Magan is almost thrown from the saddle as the box spills its contents on the floor. The tug on the rope pulls Tobias from his horse which falls on him. 3 arrows follow taking small Tom from his horse. Ambush Then the charge. 3 minutes of swirling chaos later and the dead are once again strewn around 5hours earlier
Toland signals for the group to move out. Magan falls in with Jeffrey as the group winds its way towards the hill. 2 hours later the horses are left tied to some trees with young Tom to look over them as the building begins to fall into view, not a simple wooden structure as expected, but a stone wall, surrounding several structures of wood and stone. Leng and Banning fall back in as Toland gives a series of silent commands. Jeffrey and Magan draw bows and silently remove the guards from the north facing wall. Guards on a monastery? Grappling hooks are launched and the band begin the climb. As the first people reach the top of the wall a horn sounds and fighting begins on the eastern wall. Never mind, the mission continues. With attention drawn elsewhere the first half a minute is easy, knifes slide between chain links, throats spurt fountains, faces grow steel tongues. Then someone makes a heavy step, a second horn sounds, this one closer and the latrine pit spills it's contents on the cooling reeds. Go loud Torches are lit, cries go up, heavy steel is drawn, and the swirling chaos begins. Magan falls back into his old training ground habits, shield up, axe swinging, never stay still. Step left swing, step right duck. Catch the blow with the shield and slice the knee beneath. Throw the axe at the oncoming charge and back to his feet. Jeffrey by his right and Prasutagus to his left for now, but the formation could not hold long, men were falling down the line. Magan glanced to the east and saw the same. A building goes up in flames, the line folds into the full swirling chaos of battle. And in the midst of it all, a woman, surrounded by her own fallen, fighting like a valkyrie of the legends, laying Christians down left and right. The year 596 - somewhere in West Devon The days passed slowly, always moving west. Magan taught Jeffrey to fight, Jeffrey taught Magan to survive in the wild, moving unseen. Always moving west. 2 months earlier Slipping out of camp was easy, moving through the woods in the dark less so. He had to move quickly, it wouldn't be long before they noticed. A cry. And so it begins. Running, tripping, crawling, running. Cries all the time behind as the sun rose in the distance. Then smack.
"What are you doing here" "Poaching, you?" The man's tone was nonchalant, the relaxed calmness that comes from experience. The cries were getting closer Magan glanced over his shoulder "Escaping the army" The man smiled "Little well dressed for a soldier" "Looking a little well armed for a poacher" The cries were getting closer, accompanied by crashing of branches and clinking of chain. "You got a name" the grin broadened "Magan" "Jeffrey" the bow lowered "Together?" "Run!" |
