"What in the bloody--AIEEEEEEEEE!"
1d100 ⇒ 79 vs 50 (Fate +20%): FAILED!
1d100 ⇒ 91 vs 35 (Toughness): FAILED!
Heh, poor Private Aimes.
As one of the last men to enter the tunnel, Aimes is also closest to the blast radius. One moment he's there, the next the passage above him explodes and collapses, two tons of brick and wood fall in on the man, crushing him to a bloody pulp in a moment!
The last thought that races through the mind of the young Private is the cool uncaring face of the Gravin staring down at him in disapproval.
"You've failed me, Lukas," she seemed to say. "I'm very disappointed in you."
Lukas Aimes, Private in the Wolfenburg Army, and enthralled lover to the Lady Gravin Maria-Ulrike von Liebewitz of Ambosstein, died then and there.
There would be no funeral.
"What? How do I always get called out for this kind of lousy work." Aimes moans, huffing and puffing under the massive weight of the Kurgan corpse he slowly drags into the tunnel.
"Ah, shove it, Aimes!" Herr Roteshemd, the more hardy of the two men, snaps back. "If the enemy discover any hint that we were here, they may find the tunnel. We need to conceal these bodies. The Captain is only thinking ahead."
"I don't bloody see him or Steinmann lugging Morr damned bodies around." Aimes counters, pulling the badly bruised corpse behind him, a carpet of blood follows in his wake. "What I wouldn't do with just one more night with her."
"Oh, Private Aimes has himself a lady then?" Roteshemd chimes in, laughing.
"Yea, well, something like that..."
Aimes watched the two Dwarves load up their gear in the confusion and scamper off, up a pile of rubble and out into the darkness. The young private had considered following them, but the watchful eyes of Corporal Steinmann found him in the smoke and dust, peering thoughtfully in the sputtering darkness. Steinmann was talking with Captain Biedelmann! Had they found out already?!
Nervously, Private Aimes re-slings his backpack, doing his best to appear both wounded and busy. Soon enough, the eyes of the Officers have moved off to other men, now sizing up Herr Roteshemd.
"Your task is simple my love," the Lady Gravin had suggested. Aimes remembers the way she looked and smelled even now. "Bring this tiny idol, it's harmless really, and place it on the alter of the Temple of Sigmar. When this is done, no harm will befall any of us. Do you trust me?" The Gravin had kissed him then, pressing her warm naked body into his.
"I'll do it!" Private Aimes shouts aloud suddenly. Several soldiers turn to see who he is addressing. Blushing, Aimes waves them off with a nervous smile.
Now, all I need to do is find the right time to sneak away... Aimes thought to himself, And not get myself killed while doing it.
Looking about quickly to see that no one is watching, the brash Private takes another bite from his Black Root; a wave of artificial bravado washing over him.
Scrabbling through the rubble and ruin, Aimes cradles his smoldering backpack like a small child, digging through it furiously. Yes! His secret stash of Black Root is still intact. When no one is looking he grabs a piece and pops it into his mouth. Feeling invigorated, he continues to rummage.
OUCH! Aimes looks down, his finger bleeding. The strange jade statuette beams up at the young Private with a wicked smile, blood trickling from it's razor fanged mouth.
"What the--"
"My eyes, they buuuuurn!" Aimes weeps, hollering like a wounded child. "This wasn't supposed to happen. This was--"
Aimes slams into the back of one of the Dwarves and topples over, the guttering iron canister spitting its deadly fumes into the air just a foot away.
"Gravin, help meeeee!"
"Oh, Gods!" Aimes cries, his face draining of color. "Oh--" Aimes loses his lunch, his face a white mask of abject horror.
AND BACK IN PRESENT TIMES, BENEATH THE BRIDGE OF WOLFENBURG...
Left alone to his down devices, Aimes angrily glares at the back of Corporal Steinmann as he pushes past. Reaching into his tunic pocket, Aimes pulls out a small piece of black root and gives it a good tug with his teeth. He begins to chew. Moments later he can feel a wash of courage and resolve pass over him. Artificial as it may be, black root always made the young Private feel better.
"Well, I'll show you who's a good soldier. You'll see." Aimes mutters, moving off to a corner of the tunnel where he begins to inspect his supplies. Had he lost it in the struggle? Was it-- "Ah, here it is!"
Packed into the bottom of his soldiers bag, surrounded by the mundane trappings of his profession, Aimes could see the small jade statuette peering up at him with its mischievous smile, perfectly carved and lovingly crafted. The sweet tang of lust and sweat and carnal pleasures hit the Private's privates all at once! Quickly, he closed the backpack and tied it shut.
It had been a gift from the Lady Gravin herself! Aimes had been a different man when he had first met her early this very year. He remembered himself being brave and bold and incorruptible, even having the confidence to resist her, at least for a time. But she had broke him of that. Aimes shudders, remembering things best left to the pages of some harlots journal, reaching for another piece of black root to sooth his nerves.
"It shall be done, m'lady." Aimes mutters to himself, rocking back and forth. "Your wish is my only desire..."
"Hey, hey! Three cheers for the Dwarves!" Aimes shouts. "Hip Hip Hooray!"
"Hip Hip Hooray!" the red shirted soldiers of Wolfenburg chant, responding to the mighty cheer.
A cluster of men gather around Krak and Boom, hoisting them on their shoulders in celebration.
"Captain, we killed it! Did ya see?!" Aimes bellows, leaping up and down in the knee deep waters. "We sent that overgrown sludge sucker back to hell!"
Now forlorn and forgotten, the bobbing head of Viktor looks on in sadness and grief.
Aimes looks from the floating head of Viktor to 'The Raven' and back again.
"It's game over, man! Game over!" *grin*
Since I have not yet rolled up Aimes stats, I'll just use a base 35% for any tests he takes. Later, if he remains in play as a character, I'll roll him up properly. That being said:
Aimes is fumbling for a sword in the murky waters when the Bog Octopus erupts a spew of burning black acid into the air. Wooden timbers pop and burn as men scream and fall backwards into the mire!
"Son of a motherless--" Aimes shouts!
It's time for him to make his Agility check to see if he's effected by the creatures spooogy attack:
1d100 ⇒ 76 vs 35 (Ag): FAIL! (And yet so close)...
"AIEEEEEEEE!" Aimes bellows, the left side of his face burning as he falls face first into the brewing waters in the under-tunnel.
Aimes will now have a -1 to his Attack and Defense pool for the duration of the fight ONCE he's able to find his sword. We'll determine that now:
The cold river water seems to do little to sooth the burning. Aimes is then suddenly pushed deeper into the floorboards as someone else (Viktor), falls on top of him. Grasping and clawing, Aimes is now simply trying to regain his footing.
Let's test against his fortune:1d100 ⇒ 26 vs 30: PASS!
Trampled in the maelstrom of booted feet, Aimes luckily manages to get a grip on the hilt of his lost blade. Pushing upwards and out of the water, he begins to swing the weapon about him in a blind panic!
"You like that? Huh? How's that feel?!" he shouts. "Eat steel you overgrown calamari!"
Aimes is clearly not in control of himself at the moment. I'll make another roll against his Weapon Skill to determine what happens. If he passes, he managed to come into range with Hencticle. If he fails, not so much. A double or fumble means he plows his blade into a friendly target:
1d100 ⇒ 44 vs 35 (WS): FUMBLE!
There is a sickening TWHIIIICK! sound as Aimes swings wildly like a windmill in a hurricane.
"I got it! Captain! Did you see, I--"
The body of Viktor falls into the water, his head splashing down a moment later.
"Oh Gods..." Aimes weeps, staring in abstract shock at the bobbing head between his feet.
Alas, poor, poor Viktor.
"I've lost my bloody sword. Quick, hey! Someone toss me a weapon!" Aimes had shouted.
A moment later, Njord tosses the young warrior his blade. It arcs through the air like a wet lance, wobbling unevenly. Regaining his feet, Aimes reaches for the weapon in the darkness:
1d100 ⇒ 44 vs 35 (AG): FAIL!
With a shout of alarm, Aimes grabs the sword mid-flight, but fumbles the attempt. The sword spins into the water with a dismal splash.
"Scheisse!" he howls in shock. "I had that!"
AND BACK TO THE ACTION BENEATH THE WOLFENBURG BRIDGE...
"I got something for ya!" Aimes shouts, hacking wildly at each new tentacled terror that rises from the waters, "Oooo, how'd that feel?! Here, taste steel!"
The man is a blur of movement, but while Captain Biedelmann is a beacon of tactics and precision, Aimes is the flailing avatar of sheer pandemonium. One of Hentaicle's rubbery arms goes flying off into the darkness, guttering black stuff EVERYWHERE! Aimes let's out a cry of victory!
(This attack is for sake of description only and does not tally against the Octopus in terms of overall victory).
"I got one!" he bellows. "You see that Captain?! I got one!"
A moment later, Aimes is blasted backwards by a renewed attack from the bulbous creature, smashing the young soldier into the wood bracing along the ceiling; he crashes down into the water, winded but not dead.
"Gottsverdammt!" Aimes shouts, "I've lost my bloody sword. Quick, hey! Someone toss me a weapon!"
Consequently, I think Aimes might be my next favorite NPC next to Gretta, hah. His Avatar alone cracks me up!
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