No worries Haggis... we've been lucky enough to be sparring partners plenty o' times - no doubt will do so again.

Thanks to one and all for indulging my Scots vernacular ;)

Cheers

Óengus grins as the damaged jack begins to lurch and lumber toward the companions;

"Och aye. Now we'll hae our hands full.. time tae kick that bucket lads!"

Having home interwebs headaches gents - and not getting a chance to post at work (good news is I'm still gainfully employed in the ailing oil industry... bad news I've more responsibility (cough) workload (cough) in my new role)

Might be a tardy in posting for this week coming...

Retconning above

As if struck by divine intervention, the ever canny scrapper grins and draws his comrades close;

(whispering): "Lads... that jack ain't long fer chopping poor Conrael... but it ain't long for choppin' them Khador basterds either... it's oot o' control like!"

The scarred brow on the stout troll furrow;

"We need tae draw the steamer away... subtle like until we hae nay need fer subtle an' can get auld school on the tin fecker!"

Ahhhh... now I gets the jist.

Forlorn Hope: Stand Down!

Depends if my actions kickstart a massive counter attack?

I've never been precious about my PCs so more than happy to chance an epic action for possibly glorious death...

Mark's game tho so will respect his take on such a forlorn hope?

Its not, but leaving Conrael to die is not an option. Listen I'm happy to sacrifice Oengus if you lot can use the distraction to get the troll to safety? He's a headcase so I've no qualms about a forlorn hope, but not if it gets all of you killed and doesn't save Conrael.

Cowards! We can take em! ;) I jest of course - thought the column was also off and this was looters and casualties left...

Óengus stares with a moment of incredulity at the lack of damage apparently inflicted by his bellow.

The moment is fleeting as the scrapper seeks to remedy the affront that the jack still stands... he rumbles forward and brings his heavy bludgeon to bear;

"Feckin' Wreckin'!"

MACE ATTACK: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 4) + 6 = 16
MACE DAMAGE: 3d6 + 4 + 6 ⇒ (2, 4, 1) + 4 + 6 = 17

Óengus grunts a "feck this" as he takes in the grim sight, and shifts forward - his thick neck swelling with power...

The scrapper bellows his war-cry at the damage jack, the ancient words of the kriel booming from the Son of Bragg:

"Buaidh no Bàs! Buaidh no Bàs!"

(Victory or Death)

Fell Call - Sonic Blast: 2d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (2, 6) + 2 + 2 = 12
SP 8 - POW 12 Attack: 2d6 + 12 ⇒ (2, 4) + 12 = 18

Immensely physical at the breakdown, and with go forward - they have indeed got the bit between their teeth.

Ditto. 1 feckin point. Hope the Aussies win the whole thing now so we can claim to have run them that bloody close.

Great games in the Quarters!

My logic is for the scrapper to engage the jack to buy the rest of you time to take out its handler or the other Khandor foot soldiers? I've no idea how long I'll last, but thinking Fell Call: Sonic Blast might be a decent opener??

Óengus shoots a wide toothed grin at Havar and nods;

"Aye. Down the gullet and hope I stick in its throat eh? Har!"

The scrapper scowls and runs a huge mitt across his scarred noggin.

"We can try tae punch thru it aye? I'll keep the tin man busy while you lot cut the guts o' its hander eh?"

Óengus grins at his suggestion of a forlorn hope;

"Mind lads Ah'm a Son O' Bragg... that walkin' kettle winnae know what hits it!"

Still here - sorry busy week at work... was also trying to find out best way to deck a steam jack... ;)

When could chuck the wee fella o'er the wall? ;)

Seriously skirting makes sense, although Oengus will be advocating a blood and thunder charge!

Aye

The scrapper-poet swings his mace above his scarred head as he runs, bellowing loudly;

"Intae them lads! Grind their bones tae make troll bread! Iron or flesh we leave 'em dead!"

Busy with Offshore Europe today/tomorrow gents, so please bot me scrapper as necessary.

Normal service should be resumed by close of play tomorrow.

Cheers

As the group pause, Óengus offers up the keg of eiske;

"N'ere make a decision withoot a dram lads! Here fill yer boots an' we'll muse oor situation like..."

The scrapper takes a deep quaff and passes it to any receptive hands;

"So do we crack Khandor skulls or heal the bairn's braickit bones? Ma heid says the latter, whilst my heart yearns fer the former..."

Letting the more wilderness savvy of the group take the lead, Óengus keeps his eyes open betwixt the odd wee nip;

Detection: 2d6 + 5 ⇒ (3, 5) + 5 = 13

"Yer wee beadies spoke anythin'?"

Óengus nods in agreement;

"Makes sense. Dinnae want them gettin' the jump ontae us!"

The scrapper will keep in rank, allowing a his precious cargo protection in the group.

+1. Wee dram for the road. Then knitbone. Then wee dram to toast our prize. Fix the bairns. Drams all round. Hunt the Khadorans. Wee dram to fortify the stones. Take out the Khadorans. Wee dram to toast our victory. Heal any wounds. Wee dram for medicinal purposes... Head back for a celebratory drinking session...

Did I miss anything ;)

Óengus heads back to where a cask of strong eiske can be had...

"Fer medicinal an' fortitudal purposes on our sojourn like!" is the reason he offers if asked.

If necessary he oils the wheels with some coin...

Óengus scowls then nods;

"An we're thirstier... Am aff tae grab the cask lessen ye lot think otherwise?"

Óengus nods sagely as he joins Conrael in a medicinal dram;

"If we're tae go a huntin' then best we get some supplies eh lads? A wee keg o' the good stuff for campfire tinctures gets ma vote..."

At Havar's concern he scoffs;

"Ye've a Son O' Bragg in yer company! Nae need tae fear the Jacks... for I'll bust em wi ma mace lad, and boot their tin-can sacs!"

We're trolls DMV - hamfisted is standard modus operandi lol

The scrapper takes the healer's mug and takes a sniff in mock disdain;

"Ale? At this time o' the morn! An' flat too..."

He empties the remainder outside the hut with a flick of his thick wrist, before returning with a grin;

"Nah. You need a nip o' the good stuff tae pep!"

Óengus takes his canteen and will empty a generous shot of Eiske into it...

"Mair than earned I reckon! Medicinal like!"

... before taking a wee nip himself from the canteen.

The scrapper's jaw tightens at the harshness of the spirit, and he grins again before offering it to anyone else;

"Breakfast o' champions..."

Óengus looks down at the pyg hunter with a wry smile;

"Lead on laddie! Let's get that lazy bugger oot o' his pit eh!?"

Onwards indeed...

Nursing his sore heid, Óengus yawns and reaches for his flask;

"Wee hair o' the mawg... Just the thing tae take the edge aff..."

The scrapper shoots a dram, then rises and stretches, cracking weary bones and examining his wounds from the previous day.

"Big yin's a bit tardy this morn eh..?"

he grumbles to all and none in earshot.

I've still 3 damage on the clock.

Óengus nods sagely as Havar gives the account, then chips in with;

"Oh we fought bonnie! Dropped a score o' mawg each, an' got the bairns back tae the bosom o' kith an' kin!"

Óengus lumbers toward the chief and elders, happier now he's quickly drained a tankard and collected to take the edge of his wounds and the discussion to come...

The scrapper awkwardly tips the nod toward the ranking members of the kriel, and mutters an aside to Havar between quaffs;

"Pssst. Yer up haggis! Gie them the spiel!"

Time to go back and get them once we deliver the bairns? What could go wrong?? ;)

Óengus grins in mock affront;

"Whoa there big yin! Naebody was talking aboot fichting! An' I heartily agree - much better things tae do... like drinkin', gamblin' and wench' Har!"

The broad brawler mulls the chieflings words further and his battered brow furrows a little;

"B'sides... If it came doon tae a rammy between us all, I'd knock seven bells oot o' the lot o' ye! Har! For I'm a Son O' Bragg boys!"

Oengus grunts a laugh at the verbal sparring;

"Quite the match eh lads? I've a gold on the wee man!"

Óengus grins at the scout's taking charge;

"On yerself wee man! Lead away... we'll lift and carry whilst ye scout an' harry!"

Óengus grimaces as the extent of the bairn's cracked bones are revealed, but the fell caller puts a brave face on;

"Och. Wee scrapes and breaks laddies... Ye'll be back chasing the lassies and leading the charge soon enough! Lets get ye all haim eh?"

As the group take their positions for lifting and ferrying, Óengus suggests he could bellow their position for help from the Kriel...

"A Signal shout would likely be heard... but also perhaps by mair nefarious ears in the woods also..."

Still a might nicked from the mawg's assault, Oengus lends his grunt to the lifting of the tree:

STR Check (ditto on Havar's approach - 1 FP paid): 3d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 3, 4) + 6 = 19

"C'mon lads! Let's shift this timber an' get the weeines back hame!"

Agree with the comments above - for my part I need to learn to use Oengus' abilities also; with tougher foes the Beat Back would have potentially protected the bairns etc. Signal Fell Call might have alerted the kriel to the danger...

Like that combat is brutal; as someone who loved Rolemaster and MERP back in the day, I'm actually relishing a roll on the injury table (I'm not precious about my characters - Mark can off them as he sees fit lol).

For my part still grappling with how the system actually runs, will devote some time to reading rules in more depth. All good though :)

Nae bother chief - will stat her up just in case ;)

Round 2 4 Damage; 1d6 ⇒ 5 - 1 damage on Intellect; 2 damage on remaining Physique and 1 carried over to Agility. 0/7 PHY - Disabled.

Óengus again is gnashed by one of the brazen vermin, its teeth finding a vein as he bleeds more profusely;

"Arrrghhh! Mither Gairm's son is tougher than that ye wee vermin!"

The trollkin rallies (Spend a Feat point to utilise Revitalise feat. Gaining 7 Vitality Points - 5 on PHY and 1 each on AGL and INT) and with renewed vigour he lashes out at the bloody toothled beastie;

Melee Attack - MACE: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (4, 6) + 6 = 16
Mighty DAMAGE: 2d6 + 10 ⇒ (4, 4) + 10 = 18

We upping the troll contingent DMVoV?

On a side note - was looking over old aliases and noticed a female trollkin that I'd ran previously (also a Fell Caller).

Much as I love Oengus, if we're moving into a troll-focussed think it would be even more fun running Morven Rochbrattle - balancing the (ahem) gender scale a little and unleashing a trollkin version of Ronda Rousey on you all.

(Ignore the stat build - different system)

Food for thought? If she's a go-er (nae in that way ye dirty dogs!) then I'll change up her profile and leave the change circumstances up to you DMVoV?

I think Havar's gotten you on track with the spirals BD? They're a little bit counterintuitive as first spit-check, but hopefully second glance will have them a bit easier.

As a general note - I'll be relying / expecting you to upkeep your own spirals as far as book-keeping goes, so figure out a way that works for you and find a spot on the profile for it aye?

He has indeed... leads like a true chief :)

Sure they'll be plenty else I bungle as we go but I'll get there lol.

Round 1 Redacted

The Mawg attacking the blocky scrapper manages to penetrate his armour with its needle teeth, sinking them into his thick neck;

Damage Location: 1d6 ⇒ 6: 1 point of damage take on Intellect. Remaining 5 damage absorbed into Physique

As the creatures gnawing draws blood aplenty, the fell-scrapper roars in anger and pain, before bringing his mace to bear on the hungry pest;

"ARGGGGH! YA DURTY WEE BAW BAG! BITE THIS YE SCURVY SH1TE!"

Melee Attack - MACE: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 2) + 6 = 14
Mighty DAMAGE: 3d6 + 10 ⇒ (2, 2, 3) + 10 = 17

I do mate - just being thick on this one... blaming post work brain freeze lol.

Right - lets get this show back on the road!

Cheers Havar. Am firing something in the OOC thread as I'm still confused a tad... (not on your points - which are crystal, but the reading of the rules is making me noggin smart...).

Okay Havar's explanation is perfect but I'm struggling to square that off with the rules description:

When a character suffers damage, roll a d6 to determine which
branch of his life spiral takes the damage.

Okay so I rolled a 6 which is Intellect...

Starting with the outermost unmarked vitality point in that branch and working inward, mark one vitality point per damage point taken.

Its this one that is throwing me - that "inward" suggests the damage remains on the branch, rather than moving to the next? So all damage would be on Intellect??

Once a branch is full, continue recording damage in the next branch clockwise that contains an unmarked vitality point. Continue
filling branches as required until every damage point taken has
been recorded.

Next 3 damage would shift to Physique?

Guess I'm not understanding why, in Havar's explanation, the damage initially goes to INT for 1 then it all flows into PHY? Why not keep it cycling at a 1 point per branch??

Guys if I'm being uber thick on this please let me know lol...

Head hurts...

Round 1

The Mawg attacking the blocky scrapper manages to penetrate his armour with its needle teeth, sinking them into his thick neck;

Damage Location: 1d6 ⇒ 6: 3 points take on Intellect - now Crippled (-2 DEF)

Damage Location: 1d6 ⇒ 5 (Ignore - Intellect again)
Damage Location: 1d6 ⇒ 2: 3 points taken on Physique

Hammered at work - above taken me 3 hours to construct, will finish actions when I get the chance :)

No worries Mark, we Scots are used to visiting Yorkshire ;)

I had every intention of coming to you chief so no worries there.

Argies vs Tonga will be a smashmouth game.

Mark - can you PM or FB me with your itinerary for the RWC. There's a Scotsman hankering to meet up with you :)