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Securing the two handed sword, the mw longsword, and his own weapons, Wulfcyne turns a mirthless grin upon the ragged and bloody orange skinned barbarian, spitting, 'I see ye be a' big a fool a' me then, me fugly friend.' Nodding to Makharat, the burly warrior hefts the large steel and wood...

Wulfcyne is gruff as he says, 'Loot tha bodies fer clues an' gear. Grab our fallen comrades an' get outta here. We don' wanna be answerin' questions. I'll carry Links.' The warrior continues searching all the bodies for clues or gear.

Genithar nods absent mindedly at Terran's words, slowly striding towards the Northern wall as he calls out, 'Be on your guard for anything, this place is over 50 centuries old and may crumble at a touch. I've found some arcane script on yon Northern wall, I shall investigate. It may be a clue.'...

The wounded warrior continues to check the bodies of the fallen warlocks, shifting the longsword he acquired at Arcanix, as Wulfcyen's large frame crouches.

we're that near the end!? nuts! yea, a judge would be good...

ooc; nice post mel! awesome map! During the ensuing trip, the Wizard quietly follows the guides and makes sure everyone has enough to eat and is in good spirits. At nights, Genithar speaks of the past ages of Giant rule and various theories on what brought their powerful nations low. Indeed...

Chuckling grimly, Wulfcyne finishes gathering up his own gear and stoops to grab one of the greatswords at random and yank the scabbard off one of the fallen thugs and mutters, 'Welcome ta tha City o' Towers.'

ooc; oh go eat a bug! :p Totally ready to move on. The wizard waves the group forward and they start down the river, following the path the map has laid out. ooc; can i get a descript of the river?

ooc; nice mogg! thanks for the update. Genithar looks to Corran and makes a helpful suggestion, 'Perhaps Plank would carry it for us, since we saved his life and all.'

Raising a blood stained eyebrow, the warrior grunts, 'Service be leavin' sumptin' ta be desired, neh?' Looking to the healer, Wulfcyne remarks, 'Be ye havin' any more grace ta day, Koh'Tara? Wha' should'n we be doin' wit Valhandra? An should we be waitin' round fer tha gaurd?'

Stepping back at the tiefling's continued frenzied stabs and slashes, Wulfcyne is calm and collected after years of seeing battle on the Western Brelish front. Though wounded quite grievously from the fallen Natr's sharp blades, the large human gives a mirthless smile as he mentions, 'Here's...

The Wizard smirked as he murmured, 'Your inner strength should see us all through, of that I have no doubt.'

ooc thanks mel, i'm ready. Having finished inspecting the bow and strapping the now deceased Drow's quiver to his back, Genithar secures the dozen arrows and then nods at his comrades, mentioning, 'Let's form up and move out. Corran, can you carry the leather armor for now, please?'

ooc; whoot! nicely done all! As the bedazzled form of the deadly Natr crashes to the floor and Nuria's powerful magics drop the last combatant, the large human whispers, 'May the Dagger take ye.' and begins to gather up his assorted weapons. Yanking his trident from Natr's body with a...

ooc; not sure if we're still following the init count, but here's W's action With a roar, the large warrior hurls the thick stock and gore stained head of his trident at the still distracted Natr, throw with ap! (1d20+8+1d6=26, 1d8+4=7) ooc; W should be in range to use point blank shot, if...

ooc; word An explosive 'Nay!' emits from behind Wulfcyne's large shield as the elven woman crumples to the floor.

ooc; Mogg, what type of armor does Terran wear at present? The darkly robed Wizard hefts his new bow and slowly makes his way to stand near Corran.

Looking to the now recovered Plank and the quiet employer Gregory, Genithar motions to the armor and shoots the pair a questioning look. At Shade's well placed shot, the Wizard exclaims, 'Well done! May the bow aid your hunt, for it has served me well for a decade now. As for our next move, I...

Rock on Bront, come back soon! *casual salute*

Hefting the well balanced black oak shaft of his tri-pronged polearm, Wulfcyne begins to pull back for a massive throw, but the large human's aim wavers between the woozily stunned Natr and the clear eyed warlock a scant 20' away.