Skolrykk dashes up and plunges his spear into the maul of the next snow-cat.
Charge:
Damage:
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Skolrykk stamps along in the cold and snow, keeping his eyes out for anything unusual. Perception: He runs up beside Ragnar to the entrance, eager to spill Puca blood after such a long time of rest.
Hi folks, I'm still here as well, just been a bit busy this summer with a new job.
I may have spotty internet this summer but it should be pretty good come september. I'll be around though!
Skolrykk gladly accepts the shelter of Luke's familial home.
Burning would have worked too, no...?
I'm still here, too. Lead on, fearless Dow!
Well that was exciting. Skolrykk smiles wryly.
Skolrykk shouts, not taking his eyes off the mute.
Skolrykk levels his spear on the mute. Aye that you do! he says in agreement with Luke.
Perception: Skolrykk is too busy watching the fight and his back to notice anything else...
Skolrykk stands by quietly, ready to fight if need be.
I travel light, so no room for drink save water...Aye, what is in the trade box?
I have a little gold, and if ye have something I like, I'll gladly do trade. Skolrykk says, accepting a bowl of porridge.
Skolrykk gladly accepts a mug of mead and a spot by the fire.
Like I said, a spear has no sheath but I mean no harm! Skolrykk says, leaning on the shaft of his spear.
Nor does my spear, but it is ever searching for one! Hah!
Aye, Skolrykk will take extra claws if Muli does not need them.
A fine pelt! Skolrykk says, accepting the other tooth and stowing it in his pack. He goes over to check on Nadia whilst Ragnar skins the beast. Alright?
Round 1 Skolrykk charges the cat at full speed with his spear lowered and his herecirm loud. Longspear:
He plunges the spear into the beast, attempting to distract it from Ragnar.
Perception:
From the other side of the Bison, Skolrykk motions silently for Ragnar to loop around.
Unless anybody else needs it, I will take it then. Of course, if anybody worships Desna, it would be of more use to them methinks...
Aye, good eating! Skolrykk nods, tossing his longspear from hand to hand.
Skolrykk worships Gozreh--god of the sea you know.
Nadia, gud morrow, I trust you are ready for the journey? Would you look at this cloak I picked up? I am wondering if it has some mystical properties.
Skolrykk falls asleep soon, wherever he may...
Skolrykk stretches and nods.
Skolrykk drops the cheese he has been stuffing in his mouth and looks over drunkenly. A fair lass! Welcome welcome welcome! I did not know him, but we slew trow--the trolls--the trow that were there and sent his bánfæt to the upgoduo. I am sorry. he says, frowning. You were gefríend?
bánfæt = body, corpse
Hey! I was using that! Skolrykk says, grabbing for his drink as the table is pulled away from him. Reflex:
Skølrykk hiccups.
Fort: Skølrykk raises his tankard of mead and drains it, letting out a mighty belch afterwards! He does not seem to notice the fight at all...
Skølrykk fills his horn, bolstered by Ragnar's tales of glorious adventure, and drinks again. Fort:
Skølrykk fills another horn and drinks it down quickly, brushing his mouth with the back of his hand as he finds his second wind. Fortitude:
Skølrykk fills his horn and drains it again, showing nothing on his face though his head has begun to swim.
Skølrykk takes his horn and fills it again, drinking it in large gulps but not quite as fast as the first horn. He sets it quietly on the table, looking across into the eyes of the giant.
Skølrykk Dråthenborn takes a horn and fills it with mead, draining it in one pass before setting it on the table upside down.
Perception: There are some among us from Irrisen, land of the Ice Witches... Skølrykk mutters to Ragnar over his tankard.
Skølrykk walks in through the gates, tapping his longspear on the ground beside him as he goes.
@Ragnar: Aye. They'll be disappointed though, naer had a lass such a mægenwudu! As for you, you should take care none of the stánbucca take a likin' to you and that beard... he says in response. Heading inside the inn, he calls to the wirt. Aye, ale an' bread. Perception: Stepping inside the inn he is blinded by the sudden darkness and taps around with his spear until he finds a table to sit at.
Perception:
Skølrykk walks up to the cliff edge, a little worried what he will see at the bottom. When he sees that Ragnar has come out on top, he laughs out loud, throwing his head back. Ha! A fine kill, but take care no Trow grows from your beard now!
Gone for the week, lads. I'll be back on Sunday.
Perception:
I think we should figure out what the cloak and bracers do first, then distribute them by who would most benefit from them.
Skølrykk Dråthenborn pulls the blue cloak from his pack, looking at it more closely by the light of the fire. Perception: Someone said this was magic? Heh, maybe it'll turn me unsewenlic! he says, swinging it over his shoulders. Or make me fliógan! he says, flapping his arms. He is clearly trying to cheer up the lad Petrik.
It sounds great and would be up my alley if I weren't so busy at the moment. I appreciate the offer, and wish you fair winds!
While the others are preparing Quern's pyre, Skølrykk gathers wood and piles it over the Trow, building a hot fire to purge the world of the monster. He leaves it burning and watches silently as the others say ther goodbyes. He then gathers his belongings and takes one last glance at the burning trow before entering the cave. Perception:
He readies his spear as the hound howls, looking around for the source of the disruption and not finding it. Sniffing at the air, he furrows his brow. The cold is in my nose, and I smell nothing.
Skølrykk tosses down his rope past the cacti.
Skølrykk gazes back down the cliff. I'll need my things. Perhaps Petrik can bring them up? Petrik! bring those with you! he calls, lowering the winch.
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