Ragnvaldr moves to the trap door, donning his shield once more. With a grunt, he grabs the trapdoor and heaves it open.
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The Ulfen loads another arrow and lets it fly at the alchemist.
As the villain skitters away, Ragnvaldr discards his axe and shield in a huff, drawing his bow and firing a shot at the alchemist.
The Ulfen takes a desperate swing at the alchemist but strikes nothing but air.
Ragnvaldr snarls as the flames blast him in the face and cover his arms. Lowering his shield a bit, he stomps off across the walkway in pursuit of the alchemist.
With the mongrelmen still coming, Ragnvaldr roars as he continues his relentless attacks. His heels dig in firmly, determined to hold the line.
Stubbornly holding his ground, the Ulfen lowers his head behind his shield and lashes out at the mongrelman engaging him in melee.
Ragnvaldr, heedless of his injuries, lays into the next mongrelman in line.
Trying desperately to clear a path and open up the battlefield for his companions, the Ulfen throws himself into the fight with reckless abandon.
Ragnvaldr muscles his way into the room and slams his shield against the mongrelman attacking Leik.
Ragnvaldr looks to his speaking companions as though they had abruptly gone mad. Axe in one hand, shield in the other, the Ulfen looks to the others in the room with a scowl. His massive frame turns in Leik's direction and he grumbles. "Where are they?"
Ragnvaldr nods to the dromite and rushes the door with a purpose. As he approaches, his face twists in a snarl of rage and he puts his boot to the latch of the door with all the force he can muster.
The Ulfen grunts, bending over to recover his shield. "Damned thing... what was that, anyway?" he looks to his more educated companions for an answer.
Now reaching the height of irritation, the Ulfen casts his shield aside and chokes up on his axe with both hands as he brings it down on the creature.
With a furious shout, the Ulfen lays into the beast again with his axe. "What in the Hells is this thing?!?"
Leveraging the aid of his allies, the Ulfen delivers another tremendous strike against the creature.
Seeing the effect of his attack, Ragnvaldr grins and delivers another powerful swing from his axe.
Crit away. They are crittable.
Seeing the creature's resilience, Ragnvaldr redoubles his efforts as he brings the axe down with fury.
With the door thrown wide, the Ulfen shoulders his way in and attacks the creature.
Ragnvaldr, seeing everyone apparently ready and waiting, shoulders up to the door. He tries the handle first to see if it is even locked...
The Ulfen's mouth twists in a snarl of irritation. "Fine." Moving back around to the front of the building where Rholf and Edwin still stand, Ragnvaldr unshoulders his axe and shield. Glancing to the others, he cracks his neck and nods before approaching the doors.
I get the feeling that everyone is thinking of Ragnvaldr as a "barbarian" and no one remembered that he's actually a Ranger. I've got skills a-plenty, I was just waiting to see if the party had some other plan. Once a plan was discussed and no one seemed to be willing to go for it, Ragnvaldr stepped up to the plate. We'll see how it goes.
Looking back and forth between Alinya and Leik, the Ulfen quickly becomes irritated with their indecision regarding climbing the building. He shoulders his axe and shield, digs his boots in, and starts scaling the wall with a grunt under his breath.
Ragnvaldr remains patiently waiting just around the corner, listening for any sign to spring into action. He draws his axe, holding it ready for the right moment...
The Ulfen remains out of sight with the rest of the party, shield braced and ready for if things go awry.
After the tale, Ragnvaldr raises a flagon to the tale-teller and grins heartily. "Well said, friend. Very well then, it would appear our mission is now two-fold and both equally pressed for time. The children of Leik's clan must be a priority, as there is no question to the innocence of youth and they are many while the beast is but one. When the children are safe, we will turn our attention towards acquitting the beast of whatever charges have been levied against him... or validating the prosecution's claims." With that, the Ulfen hasily guzzles the rest of his ale and sets the mug down as he stands. "We should begin at once."
As soon as is convenient, Ragnvaldr joins the other party members gathered in the common room of the inn. "So, friends, your companion is safely in the hands of the clergy and I suspect you have not come to Lepidstadt to hunt worgs. Leik is seeking the children lost to his clan, which is a goal worthy enough of pursuit, but when we came across you you were clearly in the middle of something else entirely. Tell me of your quest that we might better be able to aid one another." The Ulfen acquires a massive flagon of ale and listens intently to the tales of his traveling partners.
The Ulfen awakens before most of the others and the party finds him downstairs telling tales of the group's battle with the great worg to a small crowd of bleary-eyed villagers.
"This 'roach' is a warrior who has proven himself alongside us in battle. Unless you seek to besmirch my honor as an Ulfen shieldsman, I suggest you grant our party entry. We have wounded in need of aid and I have a powerful thirst in need of quenching," Ragnvaldr crosses his arms atop his horse, staring balefully at the guards. Gesturing to the rear of his horse, where a stack of bloody worg pelts are piled high, he addresses the guards again. "We ran afoul of some worgs in the countryside. Their pelts should be most attractive to your merchants here."
Kneeling by the man's litter, the Ulfen places a hand on his neck.
"This man seems out of his senses... has he been stricken by some curse or magic?"
"Let it run, that it may teach its children to be wiser than its companions," Ragnvaldr pulls a ragged looking cloth from his pack, cleaning the gore from his blade and shield. After a moment, he glances around at the others. "I am Ragnvaldr the Grey, warrior of the Winterheart tribe and oathsworn to Pharasma's holy service," he says emphatically, placing a fist over his chest after stowing the axe in his hip sheath.
With the remaining worg in retreat, Ragnvaldr turns to the only survivor still impudent enough to attack. With a furious yell, he brings both arms sweeping down with terrible strength.
Seeing the wolves dropping quickly, the Ulfen chuckles a hoarse laugh and steps up to assist the fallen Rholf.
Ragnvaldr swings again at Rholf's aggressor, bringing the shining axe in a wide sweep and exercising more caution with his attack.
If the first attack kills W2:
Seeing the wolf fall and Alinya still in peril, the Ulfen steps deftly into the fray and swats away her attacker with a powerful blow from his shield.
If W2 is still not dead: With the wolf tenaciously clinging to life, the Ulfen smashes down on it with his shield.
Seeing Rholf under duress and satisfied with the demise of the larger wolf, the Ulfen steps in to capitalize on the flank provided by the downed cleric and bellows a roar of fury as he brings the silver axe crashing down.
The blow fails to connect, however, and the blade slams into the dirt without effect.
"And now," the Ulfen growls, bringing the axe down atop the worg's massive head...
"...you die!" He punctuates his statement with another powerful backhanded blow from his shield.
Ragnvaldr presses his way through the crowd, stepping between Larissa and the alpha wolf. He comes in low, but launches himself forward with surprising force.
"You want anything more than a taste, you come through me first!" The Ulfen clangs his axe on his shield, preparing for the wolf's counterattack.
The Ulfen seems oblivious to the banter going on around him. His eyes are focused on the worg, the bright metal axe slowly turning over in his hand.
Yup, me too:
The Ulfen dismounts, donning his shield before spitting in the direction of the oncoming wolves. "I have slain fiercer beasts than thee, worg. Take the horse for your tithe if you wish. Let these people carry on and perhaps you'll not find yourself serving as a bedroll tonight."
The horseman approaches slowly, his axe held low on his right side, barely visible around the horse's body and saddle. He is a beast of a man, over six feet tall and clad in winter furs overlaying a plate-and-chain vest. A stout iron shield rests on his back over top of a longbow and full quiver and a smaller hatchet hangs from his belt alongside assorted pouches and a wooden holy symbol. When he nears the group, his attention turns towards the approaching wolfpack and he scowls. "If you mean to defend your wounded, we hold here. It will take more than wolves to end my journey so quickly," His voice is deep and strong, but bears no hint of malice.
GM: The ranger slows his horse to a gentle trot, hoping not to frighten the beast and put the others in danger. Quietly, he draws his axe and holds it low below the saddle line. He approaches the people bearing the litter with caution, but stands ready in case the beast is hostile.
GM: With little need for sentiment or long goodbyes to the others, Ragnvaldr collects his equipment with grim efficiency and procures a horse before setting off towards Lepidstadt.
GM: "Wherever this darkness lies, I will find it. If I am fated to die, then I will join our Mistress at the Boneyard. If not, then the Tyrant and his minions will find their way to the afterlife and plague the living no longer. I shall set out with the caravan tomorrow morning. I will return when my work is done," the Ulfen bows again, taking a step back before leaving the elder's chamber.
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