Ranger Rick
First Post
With the vardatch stuck in a tree, Brian punches the orc where the armor is not (underarm area)
OOC: AC 14 (include dodge feat) +3 hit lethal 1d6+2
OOC: AC 14 (include dodge feat) +3 hit lethal 1d6+2
Midnight: A Lost Faith's Shadow. Book 1, The Awakening. Chapter 1, The Charge
Race through the tunnel!
With blades drawn, Reznik enters the tunnel. His eyes shift focus, changing from green to black, granting him visibility in the darkness. He looks to Kaela and motions for her to follow with Aislinn.
"So many orcs", he thought. The freedom fighter knew he would be no good in a toe-to-toe fight against the war party. The only way to combat the forces of the Shadow was to meet it with equal cunning and ruthlessness. "I must find the hunter!"
Reznik quickly shifted his focus, concentrating on surviving until they could reach the woodline instead of survival afterwards.
With blades drawn, Reznik enters the tunnel. His eyes shift focus, changing from green to black, granting him visibility in the darkness. He looks to Kaela and motions for her to follow with Aislinn.
"So many orcs", he thought. The freedom fighter knew he would be no good in a toe-to-toe fight against the war party. The only way to combat the forces of the Shadow was to meet it with equal cunning and ruthlessness. "I must find the hunter!"
Reznik quickly shifted his focus, concentrating on surviving until they could reach the woodline instead of survival afterwards.
Krug
Newshound
Starhl, HP: 8(6)/16(14), AC: 12(14)
Flying into a rage after the grievous blow, Starhl swings his battleaxe 2 handed at the orc that just attacked him.
"Your death comes!" shouts tha Barbarian at the orc, spit flying from his mouth as he goes into a battle-frenzy, ignoring the just inflicted wound.
Rage: +4 CON (+2 HP), +4 Str, -2 AC etc
Battleaxe (2h): +8, 1d8+9/x3
Flying into a rage after the grievous blow, Starhl swings his battleaxe 2 handed at the orc that just attacked him.
"Your death comes!" shouts tha Barbarian at the orc, spit flying from his mouth as he goes into a battle-frenzy, ignoring the just inflicted wound.
Rage: +4 CON (+2 HP), +4 Str, -2 AC etc
Battleaxe (2h): +8, 1d8+9/x3
Starhl
Starhl's swinging battleaxe cleaves into the orc, hewing through metal, flesh, and bone. With a gurgling gasp the orc drops, its chest an open, gory mess.
Brian
Brian's fist finds the orc's soft spot, although the orc's heavy muscle feels almost as hard as the scale mail it wears. The orc grunts in pain, snarls, and swings its massive weapon through the night. Brian's eyes flash in pain as the vardatch connects with his shoulder, blood spurting over Brian and the orc (9 points of damage). The orc flashes a fanged grin, blood dripping over its lips.
OOC: RR, I can't find a hit point total for your character in the Rogues Gallery.
Reznik and Kaela
Reznik leads the trio down the dark tunnel. Little more than three feet high, progress is slow as all three are forced into a crouch and occassionally onto their hands and knees. The terror above in Caft is lost in the cool, silent tunnel, a brief respite from the horrors above. Aislinn weeps softly on the journey, sticking close to Kaela. After an indeterminable time, Reznik sees the tunnel end ahead. The tunnel opening is covered by a wooden ceiling, possibly a trap door. A dull roar can be heard coming through the wooden covering, its source unknown.
Valurel Itandel
The tramp of boots...the glaring blat of an orc black horn...
Something stirred in Valurel's chest. A memory...a painful memory. The Shadow was here now as well. Valurel sat up from his perch in the tall pine. The Shadow had come for the village in the valley below. Had they come because of him? He had only been in this forest a few days. It did not matter. Innocent people would die tonight. Painfully. Not if Valurel had anything to say about it.
Dropping lightly to the forest floor, Valurel's effortless stride carried him down the forested valley. Ahead, through the dark boughs, the fires of Caft were lit. In the darkness, screams begin to drift to his ears. Orcs laughing, shouting, blowing their black horns. The dying had already started.
To the north, Valurel's keen ears picked up something he did not expect to hear. Battle! Someone willing to fight against the Shadow! But who?
Striding through the forest, Valurel could see four figures locked in combat. Two orcs, two men. One of the orcs drop as Valurel looks on, but both men are hurt. Hurt bad by the heavy metal of the orcs...metal that crushes...tears...cuts...
Starhl's swinging battleaxe cleaves into the orc, hewing through metal, flesh, and bone. With a gurgling gasp the orc drops, its chest an open, gory mess.
Brian
Brian's fist finds the orc's soft spot, although the orc's heavy muscle feels almost as hard as the scale mail it wears. The orc grunts in pain, snarls, and swings its massive weapon through the night. Brian's eyes flash in pain as the vardatch connects with his shoulder, blood spurting over Brian and the orc (9 points of damage). The orc flashes a fanged grin, blood dripping over its lips.
OOC: RR, I can't find a hit point total for your character in the Rogues Gallery.
Reznik and Kaela
Reznik leads the trio down the dark tunnel. Little more than three feet high, progress is slow as all three are forced into a crouch and occassionally onto their hands and knees. The terror above in Caft is lost in the cool, silent tunnel, a brief respite from the horrors above. Aislinn weeps softly on the journey, sticking close to Kaela. After an indeterminable time, Reznik sees the tunnel end ahead. The tunnel opening is covered by a wooden ceiling, possibly a trap door. A dull roar can be heard coming through the wooden covering, its source unknown.
Valurel Itandel
The tramp of boots...the glaring blat of an orc black horn...
Something stirred in Valurel's chest. A memory...a painful memory. The Shadow was here now as well. Valurel sat up from his perch in the tall pine. The Shadow had come for the village in the valley below. Had they come because of him? He had only been in this forest a few days. It did not matter. Innocent people would die tonight. Painfully. Not if Valurel had anything to say about it.
Dropping lightly to the forest floor, Valurel's effortless stride carried him down the forested valley. Ahead, through the dark boughs, the fires of Caft were lit. In the darkness, screams begin to drift to his ears. Orcs laughing, shouting, blowing their black horns. The dying had already started.
To the north, Valurel's keen ears picked up something he did not expect to hear. Battle! Someone willing to fight against the Shadow! But who?
Striding through the forest, Valurel could see four figures locked in combat. Two orcs, two men. One of the orcs drop as Valurel looks on, but both men are hurt. Hurt bad by the heavy metal of the orcs...metal that crushes...tears...cuts...
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Krug
Newshound
Starhl, HP: 8(6)/16(14), AC: 12(14)
Consumed by rage and anger, Starhl rips his battleaxe out of the orc he had slaiin and charges towards Brian and the orc. He raises his battleaxe and brings it down on the foul creature, a lifetime of anger in that blow. He growls, his eyes fiery, the visage of a pure madman.
Rage: +4 CON (+2 HP), +4 Str, -2 AC etc
Battleaxe (2h): +8, 1d8+9/x3
Starhl will try to flank with Brian (+2 attack) if possible.
I would think Brian has 10 hp? Defender has D8 hit dice +2 from Con. He'll probably be away for the weekend, just FYI.
Starhl continues hacking away with his battleaxe for the next round(s), flanking with Brian.
Consumed by rage and anger, Starhl rips his battleaxe out of the orc he had slaiin and charges towards Brian and the orc. He raises his battleaxe and brings it down on the foul creature, a lifetime of anger in that blow. He growls, his eyes fiery, the visage of a pure madman.
Rage: +4 CON (+2 HP), +4 Str, -2 AC etc
Battleaxe (2h): +8, 1d8+9/x3
Starhl will try to flank with Brian (+2 attack) if possible.
I would think Brian has 10 hp? Defender has D8 hit dice +2 from Con. He'll probably be away for the weekend, just FYI.
Starhl continues hacking away with his battleaxe for the next round(s), flanking with Brian.
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Toric_Arthendain
Explorer
Valurel, HP: 12, AC: 15
Valurel does not suffer even a moments hesitation, his animal instinct and fierce hatred of Orcs in full control. He rapidly closes the distance between himself and the lone Orc still standing, launching a vicious assault with one wickedly clawed hand.
OOC: Claw attack, +4 to hit, 1d4+5 damage
He normally gets two claw attacks at his normal base attack of +4 from the Beast heroic path but since he most likely had to move more than five feet to reach the Orc, I figure he only gets one attack because two would be a full round action.
Valurel does not suffer even a moments hesitation, his animal instinct and fierce hatred of Orcs in full control. He rapidly closes the distance between himself and the lone Orc still standing, launching a vicious assault with one wickedly clawed hand.
OOC: Claw attack, +4 to hit, 1d4+5 damage
He normally gets two claw attacks at his normal base attack of +4 from the Beast heroic path but since he most likely had to move more than five feet to reach the Orc, I figure he only gets one attack because two would be a full round action.
Bobitron
Explorer
ooc: Eeeeek! What's that roar? Maybe a mill or something? I'm so nervous...
Kaela clutches Aislinn close, letting her sob. Best she gets it out now. We need her to be strong if she is to survive. She thinks back on what she must leave behind if they leave town without stopping at the cottage. All the infused oils. That old dagger. All my extra herbs. Kaela can't help but let out a quiet sigh. Those herbs might be of help if we need to barter on the road.
Kaela clutches Aislinn close, letting her sob. Best she gets it out now. We need her to be strong if she is to survive. She thinks back on what she must leave behind if they leave town without stopping at the cottage. All the infused oils. That old dagger. All my extra herbs. Kaela can't help but let out a quiet sigh. Those herbs might be of help if we need to barter on the road.
Starhl, Brian, and Valurel
Starhl closes the few yards between him and the orc quickly. His battleaxe crashes into the orc, catches on the orc's vardatch, and glances from the orc's armor. The orc turns and snarls at this new threat. Without warning a ghostly shape springs from the trees with a snarl. Landing on the orc's back, the beast's feral claws rake metal with a piercing shriek and sink into the flesh around the orc's neck. The orc throws back its head in pain, its howl cut short as Brian's fist dashes into its skull. The orc drops lifeless to the ground.
The clamor from the village is appalling. The legate sits aside his black destrier watching impassionately as women and children scream in terror and several of Caft's men are hefted by orcs and skewered on makeshift poles. They scream in pain, straining to reach their familes as their entrails hang in the dirt. Behind the legate stands a tall, rangy orc, its form almost lost in shadow as it looks in with either disinterest or disgust.
Kaela and Reznik
Reznik listens intently. The dull roar wanes and ebbs, its source some distance away. Reznik places his ear against the wooden ceiling of the tunnel's end. The source of the dull roar becomes apparant: Caft. Orc laughter, the blat of orc horns, the screams of the villagers. The horror of the Shadow has descended on Caft.
Kaela? Aislinn whispers in the dark. Promise me you'll help my mom? Don't let Lorne get her. You will, won't you? Aislinn waits expectantly, half-fearing Kaela's response.
Reznik presses against the wooden ceiling. It is heavy, that is for certain. Pushing with more force, Reznik shifts the object, enough to see the object's edge. A rain barrel. Covering the tunnels exit. But, what lies on the other side?
Starhl closes the few yards between him and the orc quickly. His battleaxe crashes into the orc, catches on the orc's vardatch, and glances from the orc's armor. The orc turns and snarls at this new threat. Without warning a ghostly shape springs from the trees with a snarl. Landing on the orc's back, the beast's feral claws rake metal with a piercing shriek and sink into the flesh around the orc's neck. The orc throws back its head in pain, its howl cut short as Brian's fist dashes into its skull. The orc drops lifeless to the ground.
The clamor from the village is appalling. The legate sits aside his black destrier watching impassionately as women and children scream in terror and several of Caft's men are hefted by orcs and skewered on makeshift poles. They scream in pain, straining to reach their familes as their entrails hang in the dirt. Behind the legate stands a tall, rangy orc, its form almost lost in shadow as it looks in with either disinterest or disgust.
Kaela and Reznik
Reznik listens intently. The dull roar wanes and ebbs, its source some distance away. Reznik places his ear against the wooden ceiling of the tunnel's end. The source of the dull roar becomes apparant: Caft. Orc laughter, the blat of orc horns, the screams of the villagers. The horror of the Shadow has descended on Caft.
Kaela? Aislinn whispers in the dark. Promise me you'll help my mom? Don't let Lorne get her. You will, won't you? Aislinn waits expectantly, half-fearing Kaela's response.
Reznik presses against the wooden ceiling. It is heavy, that is for certain. Pushing with more force, Reznik shifts the object, enough to see the object's edge. A rain barrel. Covering the tunnels exit. But, what lies on the other side?
Krug
Newshound
Starhl
The wounded Starhl, seeing the fallen orc, breaks out of his rage. He takes up the Vardatch. As he hears the screams from the village, he can only shake his head and mutter in rage. "Beasts. Beasts," he says. He turns to his companions. "I Starhl." He realises the extent of the wound, and his hands clasp on the shaft of his weapon.
The wounded Starhl, seeing the fallen orc, breaks out of his rage. He takes up the Vardatch. As he hears the screams from the village, he can only shake his head and mutter in rage. "Beasts. Beasts," he says. He turns to his companions. "I Starhl." He realises the extent of the wound, and his hands clasp on the shaft of his weapon.
