Search results

Bannock puffs up proudly. "Came from it we did! And put the fire out we did too! There's not much that'll stop this motley band I say", he boasts, coming up between Arnir and Alric as he does so and draping his arms on their shoulders. "I wasn't sure about these folk when I first laid eyes...

Bannock looks at around and says, "Well, seems everyone else wants to just get on with things. I don't think we'll miss much at the waterfall..." Then he raises an eyebrow, lets the corner of his mouth twist a little, and looks Arnir in the eye, "...except maybe riches, treasure. Magical things."

"An enemy of Ragesia is a friend of mine, and if you're an outcast in Shahalesti too, then it sounds like you should come live in Gate Pass with us when we finish this little errand we lot are on. The real question is: how much can you carry? I'm loaded like a mule!"

"A single piece...amazing work...mmm.", Bannock mumbles as he admires the black metal glaive. He straps the new glaive to his pack and joins the others, planning on showing it to Arnir later.

Bannock stands agape. He honestly did not expect his strike to be so effective. He looks at the faint blue glow on his weapon, and then at Torrent. "Thanks kindly Torrent, it was your spells did make the difference in this fight." Flexing, he looks at himself and says, "If only the girls...

Bannock lets out a guffaw at the devil's seeming desperation. He's almost delerious with joy, sensing the weakness in his opponent. He shifts back a few feet (R-19), and re-extends to full reach grip on his glaive as he raises it in a backswing, and aims a downward slash to inside of the devil's...

Bannock grinds his teeth and and growls in pain at the impact of the devil's formidable weapon, but keeps his footing and stays up with ease. He revels in the flow of the fight, and counters with a powerful strike of his own. After his initial strike, he hops forward to R-20, inside the lethal...

As Torrent unleashes the spell's energy, Bannock feels his muscles bulge and suddenly flush with blood, like the most intense rush of adrenaline he's ever experienced. He feels like he could leap twenty feet in the air, or tear a man asunder with his hands. To him, it is glorious. "Now there's...

After the explosive scene, Bannock lets out a jubilant laugh and pumps his fist into the air. "Wooooooooo! Did you see that!? Haha! Let's do it again," he yells excitedly, and gives Hrimr and Torrent hard pats on their backs. "Nicely done, mates. I'm 'onestly a little downhearted that we...

Bannock stands and watches from the banks. He rather enjoys seeing Torrent half strip and get soaking wet. "Have fun you two, I like it just fine where it's dry. Never was much for swimming, even though I bet I can hold my breath longer than any of you!"

Bannock steps forward and speaks, amazed at the sight of a woman made of wood and leaves. "Milady, how are you able to stand the burning? It's amazing! I'm bloody sure I'd have passed out in shock from the pain of it, even if I was sustained by this forest's magics. Anyone as stout as you...

Bannock has accompanied the party through the meeting with Vuhl and the trek to see Gwenvere, though has been strangely silent, letting himself be distracted by the constant, distant song. "Go see who? Wait, the old angry Seela bloke mentioned something like this but I wasn't really listening...

Bannock rolls over and splutters awake. He wipes strand of drool from the side of his mouth. "Mmrph, hmm.. wha? Mmm. Oh. It's you. I was dreaming I was in a king's harem of dark-haired beauties," he says as he looks up at Arnir and grabs at the acorns being tossed at him. He squints at the...

Bannock finds a place near a wall, and slowly removes his armour. "I dunno, get me mad enough and I'm sure I could be pursuaded to stab a few of those pissant fellows from the bridge. Speaking o' stabbing, can't wait for that devil to come back, if I'm honest. He's got his own coming to him...

Bannock, salty from his last encounter with the devil, lets his glaive fall into an aggressive position. "Looks like murdering us it is, devil, because the Voss family will never help a lapdog of Ragesia!"

Bannock leans on his poleaxe and watches the parlay. Alric's emotional display is perplexing to his young mind. Hardened warriors are not supposed to act that way. Eventually he speaks up at Tiljann. "Hmm. I guess you can never trust a floating voice made of flames. I think we're headed in...

Bannock manages to find room for the essential tools both inside and strapped outside of his pack, but leaves the anvil behind, as carrying it on foot along with everything else is would be simply too exhausting. He returns to the group, clinking like a walking wind chime, with long shears and...

As he rummages, Bannock wonders if there was once a smith of any sort in this hamlet. He reckons not, since these daft elves had apparently taken to making swords of wood (hah! imagine!), but nevertheless, he hopes he might find a good set of artisan's tools.

"I doubt these elves were much into my type of things, but no sense in leaving a good village unlooted, eh?" Bannock strolls from house to house, entering those which he is able to and pokes around with his glaive at things, looking for useful weapons and equipment. He takes no care, and knocks...

"Hrimr, don't you think if something smashed in here, brought these two fellows low and made off with what's in that case, that there might be a trail or something? Tracks? Evidence of how they came and went? For a man who claims to be skilled in the art, it seems you'd rather talk and ponder...