Sir Humphrey Worthington-Smythe's page

"Last round at the bar, bloodsuckers! Ring the bell, and give us one for the road!", Sir Humphrey roars thunderously into the face of one of the remaining vampires, before ringing its skull with his mallet. "I suggest you fall, cur!", he shouts at the other one, thrusting his saber into its ribcage.

Am I correct in assuming that Shakti's boost was +4 in total for me? If so...

Seeing Burgurk viciously assaulted by the vampires, Sir Humphrey flies into an even greater frenzy, aided greatly by Shakti's magics. "Scoundrels! Fiends!", he roars, as his hammer flattens a vampire's ribcage. As if by force of sheer insanity, or even fear, his flashing sword deflects the blows. "Atlas, hark again the thunder of cannons!", he turns towards the combat android.

"Once more, my fellows, ONCE MORE!", Sir Humphrey roars as he dives into the grenade cavalcade with nary a worry, his hammer crashing heavily into a vampire. "I will smell your fear, mindless knaves!", he roars into a beast's face as his sword buries into its ribs. "Run, as all enemies of the Crown!"

Sir Humphrey's brow furrows as the vats begin hissing, his eyeballs almost popping out, swelling with blood. "Scoundrellous witch! Hide behind the bodies all you wish,", he roars as he slams his mallet into the frame of the nearest vat, "no vat-born gnats can stand the might of the British Empire!" The hammer slams into the vat, metal giving way to metal, as the door snaps shut. "And our ingenuity!", he roars.

Sir Humphrey's mallet is drawn, as he nods. "Hrm. Perhaps the vats themselves are the cause of this particular strain of vampirism? That's a mystery I'd be willing to uncover. Isn't the definition of a 'zombie' to be a soulless body? Vampire Zombies, perhaps?" If he's scared, he doesn't show it. "What a fascinating application of the arcane that would be."

Oh! I also thought that we're talking after we've left the premises and we didn't have that discussion in the actual den of the beast. But, oh, well!

Sir Humphrey's already awake by the time everyone gets moving, and is jovially stretching his frame outside his armour. A sleeveless shirt-vest, yellowed by time is visible, as he appears to be huffing and puffing. "Ah! The morning gymnastics is an excellent way to start the day!", he takes in a deep breath as if he's standing in a green orchard, and not a mouldy underground, before finishing his reps. "Who'll join me! To be prepared is to be victorious! And a strong mind needs a strong body! The humours must be exercised! Hrm...", he seems to frown as he starts putting on his armour. "Mr. Atlas, if I may ask... perchance you have an integrated kettle?"

Sir Humphrey laughs out loud, nodding thoroughly in approval with Atlas. "Magnificently summarised!", he comments, snapping his fingers at Burgurk. "My dear Simvan friend, while our mission, and this world takes priority for us, it would be craven and yellow-bellied of us to simply betray a whole other world to this... being." He springs his finger in the air. "Just as it would be mad to oppose it it in the seat of its might. And, I, good sir,", he crosses his arms at Burgurk, "am certainly not mad!"

"Thus, the most logical recourse, and therefor my plan is to take no action, but rather a theoretical re-action to the Entity's theoretical re-action to us not taking our promised action." My favourite sentence so far. In his usual verbose manner, he summarises. "If it believed that a gentleman of the crowd would that simply follow its bidding, then I do have a railway to sell it in Calcuta."

Sir Humphrey's quiet face through the negotiations continues, as he lets the others take charge after his initial breach. "Hrm.", he adds a moment later. "My dear Jalera, it appears that our darkdweller is unfortunately unaware of the first rule of International Negotiations.", he pats his moustache, crossing his arms and tapping his nose. "Never trust an Englishman in the dark."

Immortals are no match for judicious use of the Oxford comma!

Sir Humphrey seems to nod and rub his moustache, though despite his manners, can't seem to resist guffawing as the powers are mentioned, murmuring an apology through his breath. "You have my promise, my dear Entity, then, that whenever I once again am in contact with an agent of her Majesty, I shall pass along your request.", he nods his head, before adding. "Though, it would be a scoundrelous venture of vincible ignorance to not inquire as to what you hunger for.", Sir Humphrey's moustache shifts as he purses his lip. "Assumptions are the tools of fools and rumourmongers, but perhaps we waded through your last meal?", he asks, giving the red-eyed humanoids a brief glance.

Ducking under Atlas' arms with surprising alacrity, Sir Humphrey clears his throat and sheathes his sword. The Impact Hammer, however, is still firmly in his hand, as he glances around the room. "Bah! Our comrade here has both the capacity and the predilection for, hrmph, wholesale carnage, if you excuse the prolish term. Underestimation would be unwise, though likewise so would ours.", he harrumphs out jovially, glancing straight into the tiny eye of the hidden mass with no trace of fear in his eyes.

"Introductions would be in order, though it would appear that you have us at a disadvantage, dear Entity. As uninvited guests to your home, manners dictate that I, Sir Humphrey Worthington-Smythe, faithful subject of Queen Victoria III, introduce, at the very least, myself." He nods his head, though under his thick eyebrows his eyes don't let the being out of sight.

"You're correct that our enemy is indeed the yellow-bellied and wily Grayspear. If your motives are honourable,", he adds, the sheer insanity of the words seemingly not affecting his words the slightest, "we needn't be foes, and we'll be all too happy to become her problem, as it were, provided you're inclined to point us in her direction.", he ruffles his moustache. "Some revelation as to the nature of the blood in the hallway, however, would be a greatly appreciated treat to my inquisitive mind." With a lighting-fast twirl, he tucks his hammer under his armpit in a parade stance, before nodding. "Now that introductions have been made, we come to question of futures, I believe?"

Persuasion: 1d10 ⇒ 9 That's a raise?
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 1

I'm choosing the coward's way of abstaining - but that's only because I already accidentally have a version of Sir Humphrey in both SWD and SWADE, so it wouldn't be any extra work - for me.

Would be this, I believe!

"Hrm! What a splendid coincidence.", Sir Humphrey adds, as the smell of blood compares to the smell of chamomile. "Did you know,", he adds a moment with the tone of an overly excited teacher, "that the olfactory senses are the most advanced and complicated of them all?" He shakes his head, nodding at Atlas. "But please, my good man, continue. Is it possible that said individuals were brought and salvaged as a food source, a tribute for the vampires?"

A wild grin spreads on his face a moment later, as he twirls his weapons. "One way to find out, my comrades, adventure waits for noone!", he enthusiastically speaks out, as he advances down the stairs.

Terrible apologies, old chaps! I'll strive to be on time from now on.

"By Jove!", Sir Humphrey exclaims, before glancing at the liquid, though a simple glance reveals that his surprise hides is something else than the obvious pool of blood. "The blood is recent, and it would appear that there was quite a few victims of the exsangiunation.", he harrumphs. "I've never met vampires, personally, though the scientific mind ponders,", he says as he pokes at the liquid with an interested finger, smelling the substance, "if they, akin to mosquitoes, excrete an anti-coagulative substance into their bites." His sword in hand, he affixes his armour as he steps up the stairs. "Otherwise, of course,", he cheerfully adds, oblivious to the morale implications, "It would take quite the large amount of time for the blood to leave the body, not to mention the amount of work required on the vampire's side! Hah!"

He grins. "Don't you find this fascinating?!"

Sir Humphrey laughs out, patting the sword and hammer on his belt. "A strong hand and a saber can never run out of ammunition, my dear Atlas!", he huzzahs, before giving the combat android a surprisingly strong punch in the shoulder, just as Shakti leaves her trance.

"Ah! Vampires! Of which sort, may I ask?", the mustache of Sir Humphrey ruffles with interest, as he takes out his datapad. "What are their known qualities? My only familiarity extends to a coven of cannibalistic and hemovoric witches I had the opportunity to meet in one of my travels to Albion.", he harrumphs. "Cornwall, despite its place as the gateway to the American colonies, hides its ancient secrets and mysteries well."

Small trip down memory (or imagination) lane done, he nods, the datapad's holo keyboard materialising. "So, what should I know about your vampires? Garlic, wooden stakes? My colleague Professor McArthur spoke of vampires in the Malaysian sub-continent that required, hm, urine to be poured on them, though I considered he was just having a laugh at my expense!"

Sir Humphrey regales Grayspear with naught but an impenetrable gaze and a stiff upper lip. "The lady appears to possess quite the gift of gab, I must confess.", he says a moment later, as he readjusts his armour. "Thus, I suggest given our battle comrade Burgurk's condition we find a place for some rest and recuperation.", he harrumphs. "Whatever and wherever, I'll be at the ready."

Isn't Seasoned 20XP, rather than 10?

As soon as the beast vanishes, the rabid, manic appearance of Sir Humphrey quiets down, the speed of the change challenging even the horrid creature's sudden departure. "Quite the spectacle, I must say.", he adds, before taking a cautious step towards Burgurk, swimming amidst a vortex of debris. "Miss Shakti, if I might ask you in your role of our resident pundit of the arcane mysteries,", he clears his throat. "Would that be a teleportation of sorts? I must admit, my own studies have merely allowed me to hold club level conversations with the academicians of the arcane, and none is more foolish than he who doesn't know how little he knows.", he harrumphs.

"At any rate, I daresay that our pluck has prevailed once more, and that scoundrelous abomination would consider twice before choosing to rear its cowardly head."

Spirit: 1d8 ⇒ 4
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Hrm.

I could've sworn that the XP I created Sir Humphrey was 10, and I could've sworn I tracked down 10 XP being handed through my quick read of the game.

Though, judging by the fact that everyone else's confident that it's been 8, I'll apologise for being wrong up until now, and put Sir Humphrey at 11 XP, same as everyone else.

The eerie energy around the beast does droop Sir Humphrey's eyes, but the man is not so easily deterred. "Bah! To slumber onto the battlefield? The time for rest is after our task is done, and not a second beforehand, and you'll do best to remember.", he scolds the creature wickedly, before the storm of his weapons once again rains upon the beast.

Sir Humphrey harrumphs as the figure begins speaking. Staring up at the humongous demonic entity, he appears unfazed, as he clears his throat. "Hubris, my good sir, is the bane of many a men before their prime.", he adds scholastically, before suddenly breaking into a mad dash towards the creature. "Defend yourself, miserable beast!"

Nodding, Sir Humphrey clears his throat. "If you'd pardon my correction, we'll hunt with them having not having our location. Destroying a camera is undoubtedly a thing that would be noticed, if someone's watching."

"I verily hope that excludes us, Mr. Burgurk!", Sir Humphrey guffaws at Burgurk's report. "Then that settles it. If there is a base here, and that is the assumption with which we're operating, then it must be deeply underground." He pulls at his moustache thoughtfully. "Atlas, old boy! Would you be able to persuade the sky jockeys to target a direct blast at the door? I believe that the cameras mean that we're already "done", as the criminal elements say.", he practically pronounces the quotation marks.

Door's probably build to withstand indirect explosions nearby, not a direct punch dead centre, and short of scavenging through all of the buildings and tracking things, I see no other option. Though, I could be wrong!

Sir Humphrey harrumphs, rubbing his chin at the sight of the abandoned silo. "Well, then, I believe either we've forced the cowards into hiding, or we're in the wrong place.", he postulates, before glancing at the building. "Though I am curious what secrets that bunker hides. One doesn't build a massive tomb of concrete", he scoffs at the word, "without a good reason."

"I'd suggest those of us with aptitude in subterfuge go forward and perceive if there's any recent activity, here or around the back. Once we've confirmed that the auxilliary constructions are uninhabited and abandoned, we ought to plan the breach of the main bunker itself.", he adds, as he quickly starts ducking between the abandoned buildings, searching the insides.

Stealth: 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (2) - 2 = 0 Next you're going to say that bright red armour isn't ideal for stealth operations. My wild die says, good day to you, naysayer! Good day!
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 5

Notice: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 2

Seemingly snapping out of his blood-rage in the matter of nanoseconds, Sir Humphrey ponderously glances at the fire and the carnage. "You needn't wait for me, my automatonical companion!", he harrumphs a moment later. "I am always willing and able to jump back into the trenches, hrm, yes."

Where did you manage to find masonry there? ^^

Hrm.

That was a long post! Sir Humphrey is also rather effective against big angry individuals, though he struggles a little against large numbers of opponents.

Noted! I'll try to limit running away from explosions in the last minute, then.

Buzzkill...

"Bah!, replies Sir Humphrey, pulling his moustache as he glances over the carnage. "Marvellous thaumaturgy, marvellous., he replies with a smile, before pointing to a patch of not-so-burned trees in the forest next to the clearing. "I was never truly the king of the circuit, that would go to Ol' Alasdair, of course, but I can still easily cover three-hundred feet of crossed terrain in ten seconds!" He scoffs, as if he's been asked how he could be so reckless as to cross on a red light.

"That being said,", he raises his arms and nodding his head. "I am grateful, since I did quite enjoy glancing at that magnificent display of military engineering." He furrows his brows. "Though I don't believe that sort of language is appropriate. "

Smarts: 1d8 ⇒ 7 To calm himself down
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 4

Being both insanely lucky (As per Crazy and Deflection) and insanely fast (Roughly the speed of your average everyday motorised vehicle comes to mind).

And bombing forests does cause a helluvalot of cover bonuses.

Was it an absolutely insane plan? Yes. Would it have worked? Who knows? Did I feel it was in character to run away with explosions behind my back? You're g!#@$&n right.

But, the player says a thanks for the teleport, and so will Sir Humphrey!

Ah. Right. The original build I've had in Discussion has been now re-introduced to Sir Humphrey. Now, as a Crazy, he gets a -2 flat to all attacks targeting him, which stacks with the Deflection, and the original Florentine adds a -1 to the ganging up bonuses. Which would convert the first attack into a parry (as it's a total of 1d8+4-1-2-2, or 1d8-1, and is a total of 10 against his parry of 11. The second one does equal his parry, though, but I don't know if it passes past his Berserk toughness of 12 (4 from armour). If the knife does have 4 AP, though, then that's a shaken, which I'll spend a Benny to remove as soon as I get it.

As Sir Humphrey feels a blade pass his armour, he lets out a scream of joy which interrupts his song. "Good hit, sir!", he roars at the man with mirth. "You are a cavalier, and a gentleman!", he continues, as he brings down his gavel on his honourable opponent, the impact hammer burying itself deep into the man's helmet. The momentum of the hammer continues, as another man is scattered onto the fields of battle. His vibrosword goes through another man's ribs, as Sir Humphrey continues his campaign of carnage, and another song begins ringing out from his bellows. "All together now! "♫♬-"Men of Harlech, march to glory,", he screams out in the faces of his enemies.

Ah. I have Ambidextrous, though I initially added the advancements down into the Advancement sections, and not up at the starting ones, which I now see is confusing. I see the issue here, I got confused with the SW Adventure Edition (Which I'm playing in two other games, where doing the same action twice is a-ok.

I'll re-do Sir Humphrey with the original stats, which do include Frenzy (and also Florentine.), before my next turn!

That would partly be because I declared I'm taking three actions and having an off-hand weapon. That said, I declared the -4 at the start of the round, but I forgot to add it to my rolls. Guilty!

Now, you may not be able to tell...

...but I'm having an absolute blast playing Sir Humphrey.

"Charge, Cavaliers!", Sir Humphrey roars as he leaps over the walls, crashing into the thickest of the enemy lines. His hammer held high into the skies, and sword in arm, he begins singing, as his weaponry begins turning the area around him red with blood.

♪♫♬-"Let rogues and cheats prognosticate,-", he screams musically into the faceless helm of a soldier, briefly before caving his head in two with his gavel. Stowing his swords in the guts of another, he continues, ♪♫♬-"concerning king's, or kingdom's fate,-" The unhinged maniac continues his path of shattered bones and broken armour, yet it would appear that striking in tune with his song is a little more important to him than warring, as he seems to pause his strikes to hit at the end of each stanza.

he would not be charging madly into the enemy lines

What a baseless assumption, my automatonic comrade!

I am assuming that one of the tiny squares is "One Pace"? In such case, I'll be using my Psionics to cast Deflection, as I technically still have an action after the move.

Psionics: 1d6 ⇒ 4
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 2

Quite Nice. All attacks now take a -4 penalty to hit the gentleman in total. ISP is now 7.

Continuing his mad dash through the treelines, a grin spreads on Sir Humphrey's face as he sees a power armour go up in flames. "Up and at them! Good show, sport, good show.", he roars out as he leaps from one bush to the other, his red armour barely peeking through the woods.

Basically sprinting, and into cover.
Pace: 1d6 + 12 ⇒ (4) + 12 = 16

Ah. Similar confusion with the squares here. I'm unsurprisingly most effective right into the enemy's face, be they man or power armour.

Sir Humphrey's crimson red armour rushes through the treeline with tremendous pace, as the man does his best to stay behind the trees as he's stampeding forward like a maddened beast. Basically, run as far as I can, then hide behind a tree.

I do apologise, I've been somewhat absent from this game, due to all the confusion about the rounds. I'm back now! And those 'u's are there for a reason! Lest we descend into barbarity.

"For Queen and Country-y!", a thunderous roar echoes from the woods as Sir Humphrey charges forwards with speed most horses and a few vehicles would be envious of. "You shan't tread on sovereign land no more, foul demagogues!", he continues, as his sword and hammer are brought in. Leaping over the fences, he slams into the left flank, weapons at the ready.

As he impacts, his sword buries itself into the first man he sees, as he begins thrashing his hammer madly. "Free Englishmen will never bow down to the French crown!", he shouts in the face of the man bisected by his sword, as he regales the invader hordes, breathing in deeply.

Laying close to the ground, Sir Humphrey nods at others, but mostly at himself. To pounce upon the unwitting scoundrels... is it honourless? Or do they descend from the skies, awaiting death at every corner.

Ducking as low as he can, he unsheathes his weapons, ready to strike. Perhaps, a bit of both. What is life without its flavours!, a wide grin appears through the man's moustache.

Hey guys, quick update - I have an emergency trip to make over the weekend, and I'll be driving for most of it.

Sorry about that! I'll be once again fully available come Monday.

"Bah!", buzzes Sir Humphrey over the comms. "Retreat is not a word mentioned in polite company, Mr. Atlas, at least when I'm around." Unsheathing his hammer and sword with baited breath, eager with anticipation, he adds. "And the bigger they are, the harder they fall."

As the mech mentions the airstrikes, a mad grin flashes on Sir Humphrey's face. "The rascals think they're ambushing a lone patrol, and they overcommit due to cowardice. That very lack of courage shall be their downfall.", he continues practically narrating, before suddenly shaking his head. "We are outside the blast range, Mr. Atlas, correct?"

Sir Humphrey's slightly disappointed voice echoes in the team's heads. ~Marvellous performance! The charge of the Light Brigade was unnecessary, it would seem.~

His head pokes from out of the bushes, as he spots the robot armour flying nearby, and, even despite the distance from the forest, his maniacal grin is visible. ~I've not yet shed my idiosyncratic cloak, and my dagger is ready for an ambush! The bigger they are, the harder they may fall!~

I should be ready to post over the weekend, but I might be brief! Thanks for botting me, DMSB!

Hey guys - I got a work trip this week, so I may not be able to post. Feel free to bot Sir Humphrey.

Seems reasonable regarding the vehicle! I'll try and stay in cover and close the distance, then, as I only have a pistol.

Oh, well. I guess I'll have to use my obscenely high Fighting skill. The shame.

I suppose you could drop off here, and we can attempt to drive the vehicle towards the gate. It's bound to be better cover than no cover at all. Afterwards, we charge. Or remain in cover and shoot. But mostly, charge!

"I believe myself a capable duelist, Mr. Atlas.", Sir Humphrey adds, hand over his hammer. Raising a finger at the android and Shakti in a middle of an argument, Sir Humphrey harrumphs. "I excel at the point where the battle is truest and one glances into their foe's eyes. Or, be in in the events where I've faced combat androids, photoreceptors.", the bolsterous man adds.

"But, we mustn't tarry!", he slams the steering wheel. "The stratagem is tangled enough, and they may get suspicious and blast us while we quibble like a hung parliament.", he slams his fist once more. "I say, you ready to pounce on whatever opens the back door, should they do so. I'll attempt to wave us through, and if that fails, engage their cowardly ranks as soon as I can." Pushing the Mountaineer into a slow crawl, Sir Humphrey advances towards the outpost, stack of bills on the seat next to him.

I get that tactics are important, it's just that we're 100 meters away, and we're in a car, so they undoubtedly see us, too. So, I suggest everyone gets ready to pounce if someone opens and inspects the inner components, but Sir Humphrey would try and b%~~*%&% regardless. That way, we still get the first shot (hopefully), and if worst comes around, we have the Mountaineer as cover. Which isn't all too good against rocket launchers, but nothing is.

Sir Humphrey harrumphs in approval as the cyborg grabs a large assortment of grenades. "As much as I find the Grayspearites displeasant,", he pats his chin, "I believe that our mission is far too important for us to waste time on simple mooks and thugs." He furrows his brows. "Though, since I find it difficult to come up with a ruse to fool them into waving us by, I must admit, combat appears to be unavoidable.", he ponders, fingers dancing on the hilt of his impact hammer.

"Unless... We introduce ourselves as vultures of the battlefield, and I suggest to them that we are merely passing on towards more peaceful feeding grounds, our craven minds and finely tuned cowardice suggesting to us that woe betides these lands. If we're lucky, we would be on our way. If they decide to inspect the cargo, then, well, we shall be beset by glorious battle." Patting his pockets, he takes out a sizeable pack of bills, before grinning. "The mercenarial mind is prone to wavering at the winds of currency, is it not? Drive me forwards, Mister Atlas, and let us see if money gets us out of this predicament!"

My suggestion is trying to bribe one of the guards with my, admittedly, miniscule amount of currency to let us pass as 'scavengers'. If someone has any money to add to the bribe, that'd be nice. It'd be the classic 'let me shake this money-free hand with you, border patrol agent, and we'll be on our way', and if that doesn't work, we go guns blazing.

But for the start, let's fly casual towards them.

"Marvellous, Mister Atlas!", Sir Humphrey nods as the cyborg states out his skills in the mechanical arts. "To war, then.", he grins out like a, well, a madman, as he raises his vibrosword in the air.

Okay. We still don't have a driver, unless the wolfen woman does drifting in her spare time, but with enough bennies and enough unreasonable decisions, we should be able to pull it off.

Rubbing his chin at Shakti's explanation of the Gordian knot, Sir Humphrey nods. "Excellent, indeed. Or, it could've simply been a statement that violence is a simple answer to complicated problems!" He flashes a smile at Shakti.

Sir Humphrey harrumphs thunderously as Burgurk makes his summary. "40% is more than enough!", he laughs, thumping his chest. "As for the WMD, hrmph.", he scratches his head. "I must admit that I have forsook most of my technical education on the altar of sophistry and humanities." If there's a regret in Sir Humphrey, it doesn't show. "Thus, I believe this option outside our options."

He claps his hands, once again beginning to pace. "For Mister Burgurk's plan, we would require a vehicle and a driver far more capable than I." He glances around. "Any volunteers?"OOC, none of us has a single point in driving, which is tragic, yet hilarious. "For Miss Shakti's plan, we would similarly require a vehicle and a capable technician." He scratches his head. "Which, again, lies outside my expertise. Mister Atlas TwentyOne Dash Twelve?", he ponders for a moment, then shakes his head.

"We could attempt to use our skills at subterfuge, however there is one more stratagem I believe we must attempt.", he smiles. "We know that the draconic protector is bound by his word to not raise his, hrmph, claw against Grayscale. Though, an entity with such incredible abilities may be able to assist us in getting there rapidly and undetected, while still not breaking his word." He smoothens his moustache. "And the task of convincing him of this... creative interpretation falls upon me."

He glances around. "Should we attempt to secure the dragon's assistance in such manner before reconsidering other options?"

Hey guys, I got some travelling over the weekend, post should be up Sunday night!

I agree - there's no way to know what'll happen, until it happens.

A wounded harrumph leaves Humphrey's mouth in response to Shakti's cynicism. "Perhaps so, but I have utmost confidence in your ability to untangle this Gordian knot!", he boasts.

Rubbing his chin, deep in thought, he points forwards. "If I have understood you correctly, then our foe cannot maneuvre the bulk of its undead forces with any meaningful alacrity. Thus, should we draw her here, we'd not be facing this shambling horde of yours." He taps his sword. "Where it is rather crass to brag, I am not the worst duelist out there.", he smiles. "If I were to get close enough to the foe, I daresay I would be more than capable of cutting away a necklace, with or without the head attached."

"So, what is our course? Do we wish to draw her out here, or march into the den of the beast itself in a charge of glory?", he asks. "To lay one's life defending this faraway realm from such malevolence, is a fate many will dream of. It comes to the men and women of today to stand tall, and deny this fate!"

Still Crazy.

GM - the place of power nearby is different than the Rift she uses to summon the undead, I'm assuming.

I suggest finding out more about whether or not we can use the place of power to our advantage. If it ends up being able to attract Grayspear's attention, now that the dragon's still watching over the village, we should attempt it.

If we can push her into attacking the village and the surrounding areas, while someone holds her attention towards the (I'm guessing, Ley Line?), her forces should be easier to sneak around so that a strike force would be able to get to her.

I'm sorry for not remembering most of the details, but do we have an idea where she might be? A stronghold of sorts?

Another, more riskier option would be to lure her in the flesh at the place of power, and together the three allied casters (wolfen woman, Burgurk and Shakti) help her fight off the alien presence in her mind. I'd say that should probably be plan B, but I did just come up with it. It is insanely risky, though, which is why the Crazy's putting it on the table.