Leif's "Revenge of the Giants" [4E] [OOC 01]

Leif · Jun 30, 2012

Insight said:
[sblock=THE SHIELDSWORN OF MORADIN]The following describes the military order known as the Shieldsworn of Moradin.

"In the days since creation, the Sonnlinor took to arms in defense of the dwarven lands and sought glory in the All-Father's name. Threats posed by forces aligned against the dwarven people, growing in size and power, demanded that the Sonnlinor develop martial techniques to supplement their divine favor.

The Hammers of Moradin was the first military order to supplement the Sonnlinor. The Hammers, while valiant, were still priests, though recast as warriors. As the Hammers moved into strategic and leadership roles, another group of fervent, passionate warriors, emerged. This group came to be known as the Shieldsworn."

For the past 500 years, the Shieldsworn morphed from a cadre of holy guardsmen to near paladin-like in service to the All-Father. The Shieldsworn, as their namesake, were never without their stout shields. Units of Shieldsworn would march straight into the heart of the enemy's biggest force and would provide a bulwark against any possible enemy advance. Shieldsworn are tough, tenacious, and wholly devoted to Moradin.

Each dwarven stronghold boasts its own unit of Shieldsworn. Each Shieldsworn unit is numbered and each sends one representative to a council held on an annual basis. A stronghold does not employ the Shieldsworn as mere guards; they are used only when the stronghold is in danger of being attacked or is currently under siege.

The Hammers of Moradin provide leadership in military deployments. Despite this, the Shieldsworn are their own order and have their own leaders. When deployed, however, the Shieldsworn leaders are more like sergeants, fighting alongside the "grunts", rather than crafting strategy back at the stronghold.

The Shieldsworn hold the four tenets to be their creed (in addition to their sworn allegiance to Moradin and the church):

* We swear to fight to the dying breath to defend the stronghold.
* We swear to never leave a brother on his own.
* We swear to brave unholy hell to stop the enemy in its tracks.
* We swear to always bear the shield.[/sblock]

Good stuff, Insight!

drothgery · Jun 30, 2012

hafrogman said:
We briefly discussed the idea of Sariel, Althous and Heise having formed some sort of permanent group. We also sort of dismissed it, as we're not the most effective trio without any heavies. But perhaps that's the hook. After individual meetings and adventures, we eventually fell into our own company, employing a rotating assortment of fighters, warriors and soldiers to try and fill out our front line, but nothing has ever quite meshed.

* a tavern somewhere in Faerun *

A young eladrin woman played a flute in the corner. She was not familiar to the regular customers, who knew who the innkeeper regularly hired, and the traveling minstrels who rode this circuit. She might be new at the trade, but she was too good; if she showed that much talent at her apparent age, she would be playing for nobles in the great cities soon.

Two other strangers to the town were in attendance at a table near the flutist. One of the locals asked if they knew who she was.

"Oh, she's with us." Heise said. "We heard you were having some ... problems .. here. I know some sorcery and my friend here has an interesting way with and without weapons."

"And her?"

"She's very good at knowing when and where you ought to hit someone. It helps if we find a few people who like diving in to the middle of a fight to tag along with us, though."

"I wouldn't think you'd have much of a problem with that."

"We never have much problem finding someone willing to fight for their town. Someone who's willing to tag along with us from one side Faerun to the other is another matter."

hafrogman · Jun 30, 2012

drothgery said:
* a tavern somewhere in Faerun *

* Myth Drannor, some years previously *

" . . . the goblins are spread out and disorganized. Not a large threat, but committing troops to clearing them out would be expensive, and not very effective. Thus we have decided to hire your . . . group . . . to travel to the region and take whatever steps necessary to remove the threat. Your pay shall be . . . I'm sorry, but why am I speaking to . . . a squire?"

"I'm not a squire, my lord. I am a full member of the team. You are speaking to me because the others like to have me handle these types of meetings. People take to me."

"Yes, of course. As I was saying, your pay shall be . . . You're sure? You seem quite young."

"I started early my lord."

". . . you have been a warrior long?"

"I do not make my living with a sword, I am a sorcerer. My magic came to me at a young age, and forced my hand."

"Ah . . . an arcanist! My own daughter is . . . well, she could be . . . if she . . . I'm sorry. Could I ask a favor of you?"

"Well, once we finish this meeting, I will be in your employ, at your disposal."

"True, but this would still be a little outside the bounds of our agreement. I despair of my daughter some times. She has many talents in our own arcane arts, but it seems she has little enthusiasm for such pursuits. I was wondering if she might accompany you, and perhaps learn a little of the benefits of magic first hand."

"I . . . I'm sorry m'lord. You wish me to teach your daughter magic?"

"*ahem* This IS Myth Drannor, young man. We have the the finest masters of the arts and institutions of learning in the land. We are fully capable of educating her . . . I simply wish her to witness a more. . . practical application of magic. So she might understand first hand how she might bend her own talents to suit her goals."

"Well, if you think it will work. You know your daughter better than I, m'lord."

Son of Meepo · Jul 1, 2012

Leif said:
Son of Meepo, that's pretty cool, the way Baramos's dragon breath deals either fire dam or cold dam, or both? I guess it's so cold that it burns.

Yes, being part of an order that dealt with fighting primordials of fire, he learned how to adapt his breath to deal cold damage instead of fire. But more recently he has learned how to mix the two together. His dragon breath is a bit complicated.

[sblock=Dragon Breath]Dragon Breath
Encounter Arcane, Cold, Fire
Minor Action Close blast 3 (or Area burst 2 in 10)
Target: Each enemy in the blast (or burst)
Attack: +15 vs. Reflex.
Hit: 2d6 + 2 cold and fire damage.
Draconic Challenge: Each target is subject to your divine sanction until the start of your next turn.
Bolstering Breath: Allies in the area of effect gain a +1 power bonus to attack rolls until the end of your next turn.
Ancient Soul: Whenever you take cold or fire damage (after applicable resistances), you recharge this power.[/sblock]

I'll have to take a look at the other characters tomorrow after I've gotten some sleep to see if I can mesh backgrounds with any one.

drothgery · Jul 1, 2012

* a few weeks after Heise and Sariel's first meeting *

"So, do you think you would like me around after this?" Sariel asked, in the rapid-fire speech she slipped into when she was excited.

"I can't say you haven't been useful. Mostly not in ways your father would have approved of, though." Heise said.

"My father knows exactly what training I've had, both formal and informal -- he paid for it, after all. Classroom grades and almost certainly he's spoken to my instructors. And he has seen me and four other cadets win more than a few mock battles. He just is worried about his little girl up close and personal with something she can't hurt much directly."

"That worries me, too. I'm not sure you can always hit people with your barbarian."

"Why not?"

Son of Meepo · Jul 1, 2012

Baramos observed as the new recruits battled the nest of flaming serpents that had emerged from the caldera. These creatures would be no more a threat than any normal viper except that their fiery bodies would burn everything they touched. So, while it wasn't a glorious duty, it was a necessary one. A perfect exercise for new recruits of the order to hone their skills against the primordial threats of the caldera.

Baramos watched them rush headlong towards the nest, aware of what would happen next, but saying nothing. It was a lesson that the recruits would remember by their scars. As predicted, the serpents raised their heads, and like the spitting cobra unleashed their venom. But it was not poison they spit at the recruits, but rather sticky globs like burning pitch. Most of the recruits felt at least one blast strike them, lighting their scale ablaze. If they cried out it was surprise rather than pain, for Baramos had already trained them to endure much.

Still the teacher would not allow his students to be overwhelmed their first time out. Baramos exhaled his own blast, an orb of frozen flame that landed amidst the serpents and exploded. Thought the snake would have easily tolerated the head, the searing cold of that burst caused them to recoil. When the snakes tried to spit their fire again, those that fired upon the recruits felt the pain of the divine light of Bahamut, causing their shots to arc wide as it seared their flesh. Those that tried for Baramos found him a more agile target, and those that did hit him found that their fire did little to their target, in fact, it seemed to empower him more than hurt him.

The recruits finished closing with the nest and began to fight back, setting aside the pain of the flames. Baramos drew the essence of the elemental flame within and exhaled another blast of frozen flame before charging into battle, cleaving off the head of one of the serpents with his ancestral blade. Inspired, the recruits began to gain the upper hand on the snakes.

Baramos hung back, defending himself in the melee until he had thought the recruits had enough. Baramos discorporated, his body becoming an cloud of electrical charge. The lightning danced through the remaining snakes, killing the remainder of the nest. When Baramos reformed, the battle was over.

Baramos growled at his recruits. "If you try tactics like that against a pack of demons, I'll be sweeping up your ashes for burial! Now back to camp! DOUBLE TIME MARCH!"

Baramos ran the recruits all the way back to their camp, not allowing them to rest from the battle until they were home.

Leif · Jul 1, 2012

Can't yet give you xp again SoM, or I would for that story.

Insight · Jul 1, 2012

The last of the fire giants hit the stone surface outside Garadel with a resounding THUD. Durn Duradin took a moment to survey the landscape - a field of dead outside the foothills of the great dwarven stronghold - and drew in a tired breath. Durn looked down at his battered and bloodied armor; he was fortunate in that the majority of the blood on his mail was not his. Durn knew that a long campaign against the fire giants had ended and so, another chapter in the defense of Garadel against its enemies.

"Sergeant Ban," Durn said to one of his fellow Shieldsworn. "We'll need to start making litters to collect the fallen." Durn was ashamed that so many Shieldsworn had fallen to the giants, but he knew that his fellow defenders had died in defense of the stronghold. This was part of their creed - to never fail in defense of Garadel. Such was the responsibility for the 17th. Garadel was their charge and the Shieldsworn would not fail in keeping out the giants and their allies. That task had been successful, despite how many dead dwarves now laid in the bloodied fields outside Garadel.

Durn moved to the nearest fallen fire giant, a beast known as Firebeard. Truth be told, this "Firebeard" was probably the twelfth so named fire giant that Durn had faced in his career; it was a common enough monicker among those monsters. Durn took a blade and cut off a piece of the fallen giant's fire-red beard. He took it and placed the trophy in his belt pouch.

One of the dwarven military leaders, a "Hammer of Moradin", approached Durn. "Murkel," Durn said, turning towards the incoming warrior-priest. "Come to see the bitter end?"

"Durn," Murkel replied, looking over the place of so much recent violence. "The rest of the giants' forces, they...?"

"Gone," Durn said. The dwarf looked into the distance. "The rest of them fled. They knew the battle was lost."

"And you let them flee? They will be back, and with --"

"Of course, they will be back," Durn said sharply. "This battle is eternal. But it is not the duty of the Shieldsworn to engage in pursuit. We do not leave Garadel."

Murkel took to Durn's side. "I need to speak to you about that last point. You see, the issue with the giants, as you say, is eternal. Or, at the very least, has been eternal. Throughout our recorded history."

"Verily," Durn said, moving towards a fallen Shieldsworn. "These soldiers were good dwarves and deserve the utmost respect in their burial. Their shields will be displayed in the Great Hall."

The warrior-priest followed. "Yes, well, of course. The Shieldsworn are the most respected in... but, this is not important. Not right now."

"How dare you question the importance of the Shieldsworn?"

Murkel backed off. "No, Durn, that is not what I meant. Listen, I have something for you to consider." He paused for dramatic effect. "What if you could stop this eternal battle... forever?"