Having been hoisted out of the pit by Ricter, Fenna placed another minor spell on Malthir.
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Have sent Nick (Fenna) an e-mail, will wait a few days so he knows we're in action before I go back to botting.
What a f@#&ing day. I work in such a nest of two-faced, small-minded snakes.
I stand to inherit the company, so why i'd care about one bitter man's IT position... This guy is irrational.
For clarity, its the guy accusing me who is at risk of being sacked, so its not as big a deal as it might have read (realizing now its ambiguous)
Sorry all. The holdup is me. Had the worst week at work ever which has culminated in someone accusing me of trying to steal his job and getting sent home with possibility of being sacked as a result. Not posting this under my usual alias for legal reasons etc... I will get momentum back up and get things rolling this evening/weekend. This is not going to be a typical pace, so thanks for your patience.
Ludicus seemed grateful for Silas' interjection of a relevant example. Taking the lead, the Master At Arms fixed Governor Kapak a steely glare with his cybernetic eyes. My Lord-Captain has the right of it. In terms of brute force, pound for pound... an Ork is one of the most terrifying humanoids ever encountered by the Imperium. They revel in violence for its own sake. Their entire culture revolves around warfare. Doing battle is a form of worship to these Xenos. Ludicus shook his head slowly and grimly, to accentuate his words. Growing in volume as he spoke and fiercely gesturing with his muscled arms, he made an impressive speech that made the Governor pale as he was forced to imagine the severe situation Damaris would be in. Indeed... the Ork even lacks the biology to induce fear. They are utterly unafraid of death and are almost impossible to intimidate. Their very nervous system is barely capable of a flight response. Damaris, quite simply, is woefully unprepared for the Ork menace and Dante's strategy reflects this reality. No matter how effective our space strategy; some Ork's will slip through. Crash landing in a cascade of crushed metal and dead Ork's, their losses will only spur them on. Even if we are successful in our defence... the survivors will breed and plague your badlands and outskirts for years to come. Your people's children will remember the Ork menace and tales will be told of their hideousness, their rage, their wanton appetite for destruction- for centuries to come. Less known than their brutal traits... the Orks are also possessing of a low cunning. They will not allow themselves to be funneled into your orbiting defence platform. We must bear their assault head-on- meet the storm without letting it break us; and accept that some vessels will get by us. The war will be continually fought and met on two fronts; land and space. No gimmick or artful strategy is going to make this an easy victory. House Tyr... will do what must be done to fight their brutality with our own. Rest assured Governor... we are well practiced in applying excessive, terrifying force.
Meet your new friend PlayerBot...
Resting Cleft on the wall beside him, Kalev clutched the gate with two meaty hands and began to lift- or rather tried to. Initially, he made no progress with the gate whatsoever, despite his great strength. His face turned red with fury and indignation that the portcullis could resist him; and with a roar of anger and defiance he slowly raised the portcullis, high enough that he was able to get under it and lift it to a height just above his head. His muscles near-locked as he held the gate open despite its continual downward force and gasped- Take Cleft and get through the portcullis. Who knows what other surprises this room has for us...
The strong warrioress shook off the poison with Kheled's help before it did any real damage , and then climbed down right after Aristedes, not keen on the scrawny Professor being down there with only the halfling to protect him.
Seeing his friend the Duke go down in such a brutal fashion, Kalev sought to slay the Daemon as quickly as possible, seeing the terrible damage it could inflict. He continued to have trouble hacking through the Daemon's carapace as it skillfully warded two of his strikes into its carapace with quick motions of its claws. He did eventually hack through its torso, adding a slightly more significant wound.
With the zombies seemingly in pursuit and with the worst of his wounds healed, Durin attacked with a little less mind to his defence and continued to fall back. He struck a zombie but it met the haft of the hammer with a hastily raised longspear, cushioning and lessening the blow to its armour. In turn, Durin's own armour received a couple more superficial blows as he moved thirty feet back down the wagon trail, leaving plenty of room for Arachiel and Telurion.
Marcus conjured his rope trick and the group scrambled inside the extra dimensional space; Arachiel and Telurion entering last. The group were somewhat singed but were able to wait out the acid rain storm, which lasted a little under a minute. Despite the brief encounter with the acid rain, the burning liquid had taken its toll on one piece of carried equipment- Marcus' belt pouch was ruined.
Equipment Damage:
10% chance this time. 20% chance next time.
As Qhude whirled to face a fresh attack from the surviving attacker, he saw an arrow whistle overhead. The attacker grinned, thinking himself lucky that the arrow missed so badly. Qhude knew better, even in his rage- N'bellocq was simply finding his range. The arrow that followed mere seconds later hit the man right in his chest and he fell with a look of surprise transfixed on his dying face.
Inside the tent, Kieran struggled with the paralysis holding him; but with Shimye-Magalla's blessing and a great deal of physical effort, he broke free with a gasp of relief.
Well, i've never claimed to learn from my mistakes he quipped with a thankful grin, flourishing his sword.
Inside the tent, Kieran continued to struggle with the compulsion upon him; to no avail. Ansha:
The most powerful aura in the room is of moderate strength and you detect a few auras in the room; unsurprising given the amount of magical equipment you, Tebati and Kieran possess. You think it unlikely that the summoner would have used a spell to escape only to remain.
Never one to shy from a challenging shot, N'bellocq focused his arrows on the Mwangi harassing the firing line from the cover of a tent. His first shot was hasty and completely missed but the second arrow sailed across the camp, tore through the tent and took down the Mwangi crouched down behind it.
With two more excellent shots, N'bellocq continued to show off his extraordinary marksmanship. One arrow finished off the man he had previously hit and the archer swiftly adjusted his aim to take another fresh attacker in the neck- also dropping him. Thanks to N'bellocq's efforts, the lone soldier upon the south wall was now outnumbered 3 to 1, rather than 6 to 1...
N'bellocq continued to advance slowly south; but with things apparently well in hand with the severely wounded apes left by the kitchen; he switched his targets. He felt a sense of respect for the brave soldier facing down an entire squad of attackers upon the ramp and fired his arrows in support of him; also trying to thin the attacker's ranks and buy the remaining soldiers time to reinforce one another. Despite the distance, his arrows both hit their marks; downing one attacker with a shot that took the man high in the chest and wounding another with a gut wound.
Thats a lot of targets... N'bellocq whispered as he slowly began to stride south, firing arrows rapidly at Tebati's attacker in order to clear her a path, firing between a narrow gap between Kieran and Jakob...
Seeking to free up the others to aid Qhude, N'bellocq fired at both the ape attacking Kieran and the non-charmed ape moving aggressively towards Jakob. His aim was precise as an arrow slammed into both the ape's chests, but the wounds inflicted did not stop them.
Kieran rolled to his feet, grabbing his sword, while N'bellocq grabbed his bow and quiver.
Backing up against the closed stone door, Jakob and Qhude had the demon pinned between them, each using a long weapon as they did their best to keep the thing's Halberd at bay. Jakob managed to get his spear into the Demon's abdomen, but the blow lacked any real strength and it seemed to barely harm the savage, fierce foe.
Kieran deftly moved around the room, ducking and weaving so that he did not make himself an easy target as he moved; seeking a better angle to strike from. Moving to flank the Goat-headed demon, his initial blows were bested by the demon's tough hide.
N'bellocq held his breath, looking to fire through the melee at the goat-headed foe. The difficulty of firing into a melee was something the man was well accustomed to, but the cover provided to the demon was giving his eye trouble. Finally finding a shot he was happy with as Qhude and Kieran hacked and slashed, N'bellocq forcefully exhaled and let fly his first arrow fly; a shot that would have taken the demon in the throat had the haft of Qhude's guisarme not brushed it off-course as the two weapons collided. The arrow struck the demon's chest instead, glancing off as though the demon was wearing armour. The second arrow followed the first, not harming it at all...
Seeing the demon become a Wolf and Tebati enter the melee, Jakob decided to Bless the group, bringing the natural rhythm of nature to their attacks even in this grim place. Jakob then moved into the room with his longspear...
N'bellocq planted his feet and launched two arrows at the fearsome, goat-headed Demon Qhude that had engaged Qhude in melee. The first arrow he launched from his trusty bow simple glanced off the Demon's tough hide- which seemed to have similar consistency to a suit of platemail! The second shot was far more precise though, and pierced the beast's skin. The fierce creature growled fiercely, a low, guttural sound that made the hair of its listeners stand on edge, as though being stalked by a powerful predator...
Zanzu tried for another swipe with his claw once he spotted an opening, but the Barghest shifted on his feet and took the blow upon his armour...
Ricter: The armiger offered little resistance as you pinned him to the wall. You once again detected disturbances in his aura as he continued to be deceitful, snaking away from your grip and raising his hands defensively. The armiger appeared frightened of you but ready to defend himself. Please, Field Maralictor! I speak nothing but the truth! Something went awry with one of the summonings... A terrible accident in the citadel, the Signifer doesn't want Kardas to hear about it...
Ricter: You sense disturbances in Zoresk's aura through the use of your spell as he answers- No, Field Maralictor. If we make haste we can expect to make good time.
Ricter: You quickly moved through the castle and out into the courtyard. The messenger was being watched over by two members of the militia but their posture was relaxed; the man was an known Armiger after all. He was in his early thirties, heavily scarred from old battle wounds and looked ill at ease. He was an argimer you recognised- Armiger Zoresk, which is not entirely something you would take for granted since recruitment has been steady over the past several months. When he saw you, he apparently recognised you even without your trademark armour and saluted swiftly. You noticed he was dressed out of uniform as well and his clothes were poorly attired, as though he was in a great hurry to get to Kardasholme. He did appear to have some of his gear on him though, a backpack on his back and weapons on his shoulder or in the scabbards upon his belt. After the salute he wasted little time in immediately conversing with you. My Lord Ricter, there is little time to lose. You are needed as a matter of urgency at the citadel; there has been an incident. I can explain it as the Signifer told me along the way, but forgive me, my words are for your ears only and this courtyard may not be safe from eavesdroppers... the Armiger said, with a glance at the militia. I was given very explicit instructions. My horse is saddled and i've had the stable hands prepare one for you as well, Field Maralictor. It seemed to Ricter that there was something a little off about the Armiger before him. Whether the man was simply ill at-ease or being wary around the militia, Ricter was not sure. But something nagged at his mind, something warning him to be cautious. Suspicious by nature, he also wondered why an armiger would be sent by the Signifer and not a full Hellknight. The Signifer must surely have had his reasons. |