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Llewyn is surprised at the ambush, if only for his still weary, groggy self. As the villain's instrument appears Llewyn reaches into his pack to grab his own. Finding his strings to be out of tune he begins to twist and tune.

After the man has begun his playing, Llewyn strikes a chord COUNTERSONG!

"Your rhythm is off, your notes like a rock
your song has no mea-ning,
the power that you bring to bear
holds none on this flock!
HOLDS NONE ON THIS FLOCK!

The illusions sure are nice,
summoned deadly friends,
though the lot of them might think twice
they're to meet their ends!
This will be their ends!"

As the battle begins, the gnomes and elf jump into some crazy changing state..

"And as for your yonder dragon
Well it does sure look mad,
but we have some NIGHTMARISH GNOMES!
and that half elf aint half bad!"

Performance!: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

I'm waiting from a reply from Cerwek before I make my move elsewhere pinvendor, so, ya know, whatever

All y'all too emotional. Lets just be friends.

"... It appears the two men are incapable of action. Has love warmed their icy hearts, stayed their angry hands? Does common sense outweigh the slight against a lady's virtue?..."

I suppose city folk are all slow to action? Maybe its time I head in and get a drink.

I rebuff your advances of giving each of us a RC. I did nothing to earn it, I will not accept it! You cannae make me!

Also, I have my Roll20 account set up. WHAT DO?

BROKK,

maybe as a brigand, you're signing the charter to get the "legal" means to dispatch your old gang who may have turned on you?

Thinkin Parker the Hunter type sheeet?

Then again I guess I don't know how your Brigand background is set up.

I should really read people's stuff before posting nonsense.

But its too late for that.

Nah, I just have nothing else to do so inspiration struck and I went for it.

I wanna play a Bardbarian.

A portal of light years open to Ragnar's right. The light blinding out everything else, all he sees is the rectangle of a door in a white, white emptiness.

A man steps out, a wizard of some sort wearing a long black leather cloak.

"Ragnar... Come." He holds out his hands, a blue and red potion in each.

"Drink the blue and this portal will seal, you will wake and believe whatever you want to believe. Drink the red, and see how deep he rabbit hole goes..."

"What wizardy..."

WAIT A SECOND WE CAN GROW HORNS!?!?!

I'll agree, in this scenario, its unlikely that Ragnar would apply finishing blow. Though, really, at this point has he not already killed him? He has a grievous wound out in the woods. Finishing him off would almost be merciful?

Point is, I think Ragnar and Xulgag aren't in tune enough to what is happening right this second, so like ya said they're impartial. If it was a battle(!) then there would be no hesitation to finish off the foe.

Will Ragnar finish him off? Really that is up to the idea of would it be merciful? And would mercy thus be good? I don't know. Would the bandits allies be able to come get him and save him if he DID leave him?

Really, if Ragnar wasn't willing to kill these men, then from the get go we should've been using words and attempting to subdue them(think more nonlethal damage etc.) As it is though, they met us with arms first and it kinda escalated quickly from there.

People who kill wantonly are not exactly considered sane regardless of their "pure" or "noble" intent

Fair point, and maybe thats something our characters, newly bloodied in actual combat will have to come to grips with soon. I'm in no rush to decide.

Maybe we're looking at the wrong axis of the alignment grid. Maybe it would be more Lawful/Chaotic a question at this point? Would a lawful man end this bandit/kidnapper/guy or would he attempt to turn him over to authorities? What's the specific laws in this land that would affect that? Are these the Stolen Lands we've begun our trek into? It seems likely that we are out here with that intent to reclaim, probably by the sword.

Or MAYBE, Ragnar really isn't as good as I envisioned it thus far?

Maybe he started out CG but now that he out in the wild he can truly succumb to his nature?

Maybe he IS Chaotic Good but through my play he will turn more evil, or more good? I like to view it situation by situation. What WOULD I do if I were there. Its better than to say "I have decided to be always good and lawful," and therefore never truly have a choice in the decisions, it would already be determined.

And uhhh.... This is going swimmingly so lets keep at it!

I am liking these dialogues though. This is good. But I'd rather see it happen through RP. Which I am sure we will see once we get into it. Til then, fuggit no worries.

Thelan is holding the girl out at arms length, her struggling making his grip loosen.

"Get back! I'll do it!"

The hulking mass of muscle, Xulgag the half-orc walks determinedly forward. His shoulders shifting forward and back as he swings his thickly muscle limbs in pace with his step. Xulgag moves up, a few steps away from the bandit.

"I'll do it man! I swear! We don't need her, this is mad--!!!"

Xulgag steps forward and puts forth a mighty kick, lifting his right leg straight forward, bending at the knee and plants it directly in Thelan's chest. The bandit is launched backwards off his feet, his limbs curling pulling inwards like a spider when its squashed. His screams can almost be heard the entire way as he plummets to the bottom of the earth. Almost. The shriek of the small child hits such a pitch that the rest is drowned out.

Xulgag twists his head, a loud pop accompanying the action. He eyeballs the other two men. They run.

My vote is add cover (and do a reroll for complete fairness(?)) then proceed.

More importantly guys, I'm on a murdertrain.

Rolling his shield arm, turning himself to face the oncoming opponent, Ragnar is in glee. Battle! He had been in minor fights before, maybe he had killed a man once, he wasn't sure, he never saw the aftermath. The nearly severed head of this bandit squirting the last flow of its life from the stump. That was his. Ragnar ended that mans life in combat, and he couldn't say he didn't enjoy it. It was right, the flow of battle, the storm of sword and shield. All was simple in combat.

He turns his eyes to the next one. His arm down on his left, he brings the axe sweeping upwards to his right.

"Well, aren't you the prettiest girl in the ball!"

Attack!: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22

Damage!: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

"No Xul, you don't say? Robbers, raiders AND rapists on the road? What ever shall we do!"

His hand brushes against a warmth in his pack as he takes down his shield. The necklace! He remembers the Oracle and shoots a look to Corinne. Is she one of them? The girls in his prophecy? Ragnar doesn't have time to speak, those men were getting away fast.

"We have to stop them!"

Queue combat music

HURRY UP ALREADY!

But don't rush it.

The young warrior cleans under his nails with a small knife and sheaths it. Cracking his knuckles he leans back against the nearby wall and yawns.

/sit
/eat
/sleep
/stand

"Are we ready yet?"

/wait

Ragnar slips into the tavern and goes to find Xulgag at his preferred spot on the bar.

"Hey, Xul! Listen we need to talk, somewhere a little quieter." The half-orc taking his tankard along walks with Ragnar to a small quiet table and sits down.

"Alright, listen. We've become like brothers these last few months and while I admit, your dirty orc brain probably can't understand what it is I'm about to say, too much in your cups I'd say, you're the first person I've come to about this. There's something big going on, Brevoy is going to be making up charters for people to retake the Stolen Lands. Not everyone knows about it, not yet. I'll be having one of those charters fall into my hands. Could you imagine Xul? A land of our own! We can be kings! Well, what do you say? Up for an adventure?"

Your enthusiasm is already inside me. All over my face and hands, leaking into my every nook and cranny, a bright warmth ebbinbg away at my insides...

KINGMAKERRRR!!!!

Also, damn Stavo, that backstory was excellent. I had a mind to write up our encounter as well but you did a great job with it.

Indeed! Ragnar will make many orphans throughout the realm!

I do hope Corinne will be a bit older when Kingmaker is going on. I dont want to have TWO little girls in my party! All the other Vikings will make fun of me!

NO DUDE! I WOULD BE ABLE TO!

ME RAGNAR!

YOU FOLLOW ME BECAUSE I ARE STRONGEST!

Edit: Ok I didnt read very well, recording podcast will come back to this shortly!

My illusions are not shattered! I'm just meaning to say as long as we're specific in our exchanges we won't need to map it up. But it would probably be easier to just have us gridded out then to rely on us each saying "I move 10 feet to my left so as to avoid the cone of death coming from Drach."

Stavo, think of this. In Legend of Drunk Master(and many other Jackie movies) Jackie just doesn't want any trouble. He IS a lawful character, almost always. He does what he does and bumps around trying to avoid a fight or any interference with the police. But sometimes...Oh man, sometimes... those bad guys can't let a good guy rest so he beats their faces in with ladders and what not.

If you were wanting to play Gorkie Khan, half orc Drunken Boxer, he's just going around trying to better attain enlightenment and helping those folks he should help. He doesn't attempt to thieve, or rob, or murder. It's not his style.

I also think in general you can have alot, ALOT of leeway with alignment so long as yer role-playing it correctly. Don't let that one thing determine how you behave. Am I in Real Life a law abiding citizen? Sure. Do I occasionally do something illegal...maybe more than I like to admit but I am not chaotic, we can surely agree about that.

Perhaps then Neutral is truly where I belong? I doubt it, for the most part I do like having laws so I don't end up gutted on the side of the road.

I hope this helped you guys in any way, I'm not entirely sure if it helped me haha.

Of course... Gabe. If we left the Old World, went to High Fantasy, and CAME BACK to the Old World... We could be gods!

I can't believe they would willingly play with a guy whose avatar is Changer of Ways, get me the f#$% outta there!

Alright, fair enough, but it'd be uncomfortable, dick!

Albrecht was lost in thought, attempting to plot his own course out of this death trap. Njord's headless body falling down into the pit, the gases sifting about their feet. This is not how he wanted to go.

He hears Lutke call out, suggesting a magical solution. "This is gas! It is not a smoke...but truly I'd rather struggle against this than let death take me easily!" he shuts up thinking he shouldn't talk so much.

Thinking.... heating the air in here would roast them like an oven... No that won't work! What can he do!?! It was the best option. A quick burst of hot air might be enough to give them some breathing room. ugh, a pun. He hated himself sometimes.

In the confusion, Albrecht had no idea where the gas had come from, looking about he sees it now. A cannister! Those DAMNED DWARVES!

Albrecht attempts to punt the cannister down into the tunnel? Is such a thing possible? Assuming so I will roll as such.

1d100 ⇒ 99 vs BS (Its sorta like throwing, but like soccer right?)

Oh.... Oh no...

Looks like its time to concoct furthering adventures of Albrecht and Lutke...if we survive that is.

Albrecht knows what he'd like to find behind that door. An open field, green with healthy grass and beautiful flowers. Sigmar Himself sitting with Ghal Maraz enjoying a pint with it's dwarven creators. Shallya dancing and telling them everything would be all right.

It wasn't likely.

HOLY SNAP

Yeah my mom loves me what of it!

Saving throw!

1d100 ⇒ 42 vs 42

MIRACULOUS!

LACKEY: Channeling the spirit of the great Vincent Lombaristi, the Tilean Snotball legend? *grin* I'll toss you +10 xp for the idea, though the eyes of Tzeentch saw through your subterfuge! Fun speech nonetheless.

Just gonna go ahead and say Vince Lombardi would be a Njord snotballer coach. GOD BLESS GREEN BAY AND OUR SAVIOR AARON RODGERS

SO HELP ME DICKS IF HARLEN IS AFTER ME AGAIN I WILL KILL THIS BOARD

“Aye, I am Albrecht Baer, Apprentice of the Bright Order. I am here to serve.”

A blind Farseer, how… archetypical Albrecht thinks to himself. With brief introductions Albrecht and Nicodemus set to their tasks. Based in the Farseer’s home tower, the two begin their preparations. Strange how wizardly folks always seem to favor oddities in their architecture, Albrecht notes as they pass into the archway, guarded by twin bird faced gargoyles.

In magic, it is indeed 90% preparation, and 10% action. Spells are often long, complicated dealings and only the most basic and instinctual of castings are seen on a battlefield. A man can direct a blast, a faint illusion or cause a small explosion; anything more requires time and ingredients. For the expected siege, they would need stronger magicks then that.

The first night Albrecht was ready to turn in rather early; it had been awhile since the group had enjoyed the comforts of any sort. The bed, lumpy, smelled faintly of urine, but it was a bed. As his eyes closed for some much needed rest he was shaken awake by a violent quake.
“Did… You feel that?” Albrecht asked out, not sure if the old man was awake. He got to his feet and walked into a central chamber. He saw in front of him a table, the glowing green stone and for a moment he thought he saw two other orbs of color.

“Ah, young Albrecht! I thought you had gone to bed.” Nicodemus sat at the table studying the orb with his fingertips.

“I was attempting yes, I felt a jolt. Must have been my nerves or something…I see you’ve found the stone.”

“Yes, it was good of you to bring it here. It is not something we would want to fall into the wrong hands. This is not something we want them to have.”

So it was, over the next several days that Albrecht spent most of his time in the tower, preparing ingredients, casting circles, and other protective barriers. They would discuss their thoughts on the Winds, the Colleges, the Empire, all the topics one might expect two men to speak of. Nicodemus had him working on an arcane circle atop the tower, from which the Farseer would throw out his powers across all of Wolfenburg, fending off the coming hordes from any possible angle. It was during the construction of said circle that Albrecht discovered who this Nicodemus really was.

Whilst etching symbols into the stones with the horn of some exotic beast Albrecht made a note of what he was copying. Looking at the parchment it was filled with unfamiliar symbols. It was not that that gave him pause, as Nicodemus was not one of the Bright Order, but rather the ragged, sharp font of them. It took Albrecht aback. A flash of memory.

The vestibule of change is strong indeed!

He stood, knees aching from long hours of work and turned to head into the tower, to speak with Nicodemus about exactly what it was he had Albrecht doing.

Again, a flash.

Walking towards the entrance Nicodemus steps out from the hatch. “I have a feeling I know what you’re to ask me.” A smile spread across his face.
“Perhaps you do… I was curious about the purpose of this circle? I have been tracing it as you instructed but not sure what you mean to do with it.” Albrecht said. His Witchsight flashes, the green stone pulses inside Nicodemus’ robes.

“Be out with it. You know what I plan to do. I suspect you always knew, and were following along anyways. I mean to help the Kurgen wipe out Wolfenburg. These people are fools, they have no idea what it is to know the truth. We know such things Herr Baer, we know! They will fight and fight and fight but CHAOS will take it’s due, always. It is inevitability.”

“They, WE, are the Empire, we fight as we must. If we give up then Man ends. I will not see such a thing happen.” Albrecht could feel the electricity in the air, vibrating with power as Nicodemus brought it into himself.

“Must we?” Holding out the stone, “take it, help me bring ruin to this city. We will be rewarded by the higher powers!”

Not listening to any of this treasonous talk any longer Albrecht throws himself forward. Charging into Nicodemus and stomping him with force. he was a more than powerful wizard, Albrecht could sense, but he may yet prove to be a feeble old man.

Bounding across the tower top, Albrecht is mere inches away from Nicodemus before an invisible force knocks him to the side. He recovers quickly and again attempts to get his hands on the old man, surely a Tzeentchian spy! He feels magical energies trying to restrain him, his body sends out jolts of flame as Albrecht burns through them like spider webs. At last, his hands wrapped around Nicodemus' throat. Reaching down Albrecht finds the horn he had been grinding and plunges it into the evil wizard's throat, blow after blow as the man's blood coated his hands, arm and face in the warm life force.

Flash

Albrecht comes to awareness. He is standing on the tower top. His arms and face warm from the blood, but the body of Nicodemus is not in sight. The circle is completed, finished in blood and horn. He feels the low thrum of the stone clenched in his fist. The preparations are done.

It is time he be reporting back to the Captain.

Albrecht approaches the camp, and who should he see reporting to the Nulner than the shape of Nicodemus, his blind eyes looking up towards him. A smile spreads across his face.

Sharing an entirely too unsettling moment with Lutke Albrecht speaks.

"Let's get him in the tunnel. We should not be out here much longer."

Loop with Lutke INTO THE PAAAAAAAAAST

"Lutke, you're not much of a healer, I'd recommend you get the proper tools if you wish to keep trying."

Albrecht looks at Njords wounds.

"It's best we bring him inside too. I doubt there is much we can do for him."

Albrecht helps Lutke pull him inside as well. Albrecht only hopes the foul magic out in the Wind doesn't wake Njord too.

Descriptive Challenge (Albrecht):

Albrecht stretches his palm outward, a fire in his heart. He calls out into the Wind and Power of Aqshy to come to his aid, bend to his will and smite these undead foes! His life depends upon!

The Hag has conquered Death itself. The stone gave her some means to do so! Surely! Is the answer there?! This moment has stretched into an infinite and as his mind begins to make the choice Albre---

KAPOW!!

Something akin to a bomb has gone off in Albrecht mind. A dull warm sensation flows downward onto his neck. Lifting his right hand he touches his ear. Blood. Warm and slick.

The vision fades. The pools of purple vanishing instantly, all of the colors come filtering back in an instant and the World speeds as if it means to catch up.

Albrecht is in a daze. He has been tempted, and perhaps fatefully, been interrupted.

Not at all supposedly. I can quote chapter and verse when I get home, fool!

I know the parts yer talking about. But that's only if they find out about it...

All the fun. I know what I am gonna do, it'll work, fear not!

I let my phone die ONE time at work and all this happens?! My word!

Mudknuckles: Drachenfels isn't a villain! He's just misunderstood.

Byuuulllshit!

I'll get this update done before coma!

Albrecht looks at the crumpled form of the hag. At first he senses she must yet be alive, he feels a lingering magical residue, it must be her. Then his eyes catch the gleam at her throat. Hundreds of thoughts race through his mind. He knows what it is, he's been instructed of it, not to dabble with it, surely he could handle it being as powerful as he has the potential to be, use the enemies weapon against them, perhaps that could turn the tide, its a dark substance and mustn't be utilized. That jade stone gets the best of most men, no matter their intentions.

That's why we have to roll WP vs.50 1d100 ⇒ 77

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*Gulp*

Albrecht stumbles forward and...

Albrecht Baer is in truth a youth, but he exudes power. The arcane nature of his being make his very word seem stronger than steel. Albrecht is not entirely unfriendly, indeed if any of the Gray Wolves, Sigmar save them, had known him outside of the war or even before his apprenticeship they would have found him pleasant enough. But war ravages the mind as well as the body.

Willpower 1d100 ⇒ 20 Success!

Being the Magister assigned to the Gray Wolves, Albrecht has found himself in the presence of real leadership and it has apparently worn off on him. He leads the warband on the trail, and infuses their beings with warmth, staving off the cold is a trifling feat for one with such power.

"I ask of you all no more than I would ask of myself, we continue this march, not for ourselves, but for Wolfenburg and all of the Empire! Should we fall, the Empire loses more brave souls from its cause!"

Welp, check my sweet rolls.

I swear I won't dibs every description even though I'll almost guarantee I'll see them first. I'll be generous.