Mountain growls and slams at the slicer with his mace and shield as little slivers of metal and stone flake off of his body from the creature's whirling blades.
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Mountain rumbles as he takes a few cuts and slices by the creature, slamming at it with his shield and the following up with his mace, trying to gain the creature's attention and push it back so Malick is out of its whirling blades.
If you just want to give me a ballpark, that works, Xabulba. Whichever of those arrow hits dealt the most damage, I subtract 10 off of it with my Unbreakable ability. Move to I12 and attack Slaughterstone #2 with Crushing Blow vs. AC
Looks at Malick, face emotionless as always. "While the control of the clockwork creature may be abolished, it is highly possible a copy of the egg implanted in me exists within them as well. We do not at this time know what continued exposure to it will result in."
Follows Malick wordlessly up the stairs. The clank of his feet on the stone stairwell the only clue to his passage. He wonders to himself quietly about why the group let the creature go freely, as it is obviously a threat.
"I think I can stand by myself, with less of something wiggling within me. I feel somewhat disoriented, however. There is an uncertain span of time that I cannot recall." Mountain rights himself slowly, hand hovering over his mace as he surveys the signs of battle.
Mountain stirs on the ground, making a sound like a iron girder straining under too much weight. "I believe the human term for my current state is 'ow'. Does anyone have the ability to remove this...thing and help me to stand. I seem to also be somewhat disoriented, a report of current situation would be warranted."
As Flint begins to yell a warning, with barely a syllable yet uttered, Mountain dashes forth to the first creature he sees. His mace finds his hand and swiftly moves downward in a simple strike, made more out of haste than any tactical reaction.
"I would remind you I am not composed of flesh and blood, thus I am immune to most maladies such as insanity. If something were directly affecting warforged with some sort of siren's call, I might be the only one to even hear it, much less be coerced." "I will not lie, if this coercion becomes any stronger, I may not be able to help myself in straying from the rest of you."
Mountain nods to Malick and lets him examine his chest. The Warforged seems even more distant than usual, taking a few seconds to respond to the request. His jaw twitches slightly. "North...something is there. I cannot explain how I know such, but there is something there. I know there to be a large Cannith enclave in Metrol. Perhaps they are sending out some sort of magical signal to warforged for aid..." He trails off, eyes glancing towards the dead grey horizon to the north. "It's...confusing. Disturbing. Like I am being lead in that direction. Perhaps it is just the mist. Is anyone else experiencing something similar? We need to try and determine what effects these mists have, so we can resist them or at least perpare ourselves." The small speech is much more than Malick has ever heard the warforged utter in such a time, it's quite obvious he is disturbed.
Mountain rushes at the creature, mace swinging down in a fast arc.
3 extra damage, so a total of 15, with my AC turning to 32 until my next turn if it hits Mountain roars and struggles against the creature, planning on guarding himself a bit more if he actually breaks free.
23 to hit (forgot the penalty on the roll); 9 damage Mountain growls and smashes at the creature, struggling weakly against its grip. "This is most infuriating."
Mountain roars, his body popping and sizzling in the poisonous vapor. A swift rush of movement brings him next to the creature, his mace swinging down in a vicious arc.
"It looks as though weapons are not the best choice against this. I shall hold its attention as much as I can." With those words quickly yelled out over the battlefield, Mountain dashes forward with a surprising speed. His mace flashes downward in an attempt to strike the creature.
Mountain quietly comes up to the assembled group with a load of supplies, setting it down before he speaks. His deep, stony bass suddenly echoing forth after his complete silence while packing the supplies. "While the mists may be quicker, we do not know what lays beyond them. At least to the north and south we know what threats we face. We must also assume the worst, that this mist may stretch well into Beland and beyond. If this were the case, entering it would prove quite foolish. Tactically, it would be best to scout the edges of this new activity to find its borders before we carry on."
Mountain replies in his normal gravelly tones, with nothing showing any real emotion to the discovery of the amulet or the symbol on it. "Warforged often bear markings for those they serve. While normally the marks indicate countries, I have only served Col. Ruing. I would guess the symbol is merely her personal symbol." Mountain moves off, as though this comment closed the matter, and begins packing up items for whatever trip the group plans. He looks about the campsite for signs of any other living members of Oddjob, but doesn't expect to find anything.
Mountain tosses two vials of blood red liquid into his mouth, crushing them with his jaws and sending small bits of glass tumbling down his chin. He grumbles and moves after a series of short repairs, brushing the ice from his joints. He speaks in heavy, leaden tones, his rumbling voice carrying across the small battlefield. "Where is Col. Ruing? She shielded us, but was not amongst the transformed. Before we do anything else, I think we should discern her location if we can."
Mountain growls hollowly and takes a swift swing at the undead creature.
19 Vs. AC, very unlikely to hit.
Mountain moves a bit to his right, out of the whirling cloud of shrapnel, keeping a close eye of Lasser. He lashes out with a quick slice, looking to nick Daermor with the blade.
26 vs. AC, including the +2 to hit
Mountain slams his mace heavily at the still standing creature. His blows seemed to be hurting the thing, but not enough for his liking. That last flurry hat him could have hurt is more than one had hit him, so he aimed his blow to give him a slight defensive edge.
10 Damage, my AC goes up by 2 until my next turn (Total AC 31)
Mountain is surprised by the first three of the attacks thrown at him. The creatures moved much more swiftly than he would have thought. He anticipates the last blow aimed at him bringing up his shield and absorbing most of the blow.
Mountain takes a swing at Sgt. Lasser as well, using the slight advantage gained by Flint's distraction to attempt a strong blow to the creature's face.
Mountain opens his jaw and spans it shut quickly, making a dull clanking noise. He roars over the sounds of battle. "The ones on fire seem a bit tougher, sirs. Could have just nicked this one, though." It hadn't felt like a nick, but he wasn't sure exactly how hard the others had hit Galdal.
Freed from immobility by the flames of Sgt. Lasser, but slowed by Galdal's explosive death, Mountain shifts his weight ever so slightly and rushes forth with all the speed he can manage at the closer of the two fiery creatures. His mace arm swings forth with what he hopes will be a ringing blow.
Mountain steadies himself and moves forward to the nearest foe, atempting a simple maneuver to push it back with his shield as he strikes the once-comrade-now-monster with his mace. He lets loose a mechanical roar as he finds a significant opening.
Attack roll: Natural 20+ 5 base+ 2 prof+ 4 str+ 2 enhance+ 1 class = 34 vs. AC
Init: 1d20+13=29 Moutain quickly readies himself, head moving almost birdlike as his eyes moves from target to target. He has already discounted his former friends as anything living, his mind quickly and impassively moving them into the same category with the Karrnathi undead. "Let us deal with the situation at hand, sir, unpleasant as it may be."
Background works fine for me, though truthfully Mountain isn't too big about learning about his past. He tends to focus entirely on the task at hand. He never gives much thought to the future, and only thinks about the past in terms of tactics that worked in certain situations.
A little bit about Mountain, then: Quiet and reserved, like most Warforged, Mountain tends to be frighteningly intense when actually involved in a fight. He also tends to roar in a disturbing manner when entering battle, and rarely seems to even notice that he is injured. He never eats, drinks, or sleep like all Warforged, which may be disturbing to those that never met him. Mountain only joined up with Oddjob 101 three years ago, and so is relatively new compared to many of the others in the group. Despite the lack of military hierarchy, he calls everyone 'sir', except for other warforged.
Ignore that *S*, it's my computer gaming clan salute, normally put it at then end of all my posts on that forum, so it's a bit of a habit. Hopefully I'll keep it out of the actual game as much as I can, but it gets ingrained after a while.
Mountain is now updated as well, as a nasty, nasty charging beast of doom. *S*
I'm looking into either Warforged Juggernaut or Dreadnought (from Martial Power) for my Paragon Path. Depends on how much Charge tends to be useful on the battlefields we'll be on, since most of the Juggernaut's abilities use it or depend on it.
MOUNTAIN SMASH! Again, not too sure if I've gotten everything, haven't been in too much 4th. Let me know if I have missed anything egregious. - Hammith
Heeeeeeeeeeeere's Mountain. Not too sure if I've gotten everything, haven't been in too much 4th. Let me know if I have missed anything egregious. - Hammith |