Vivian sighs and grabs Herriman's hand, pulling him inside, past the scuffle, and to a more private corner of the main hall. The pale skin on her palm is soft and smooth, but noticibly cold to the touch, as if the Halfling was grasping an iron bar and not a person's hand.
"This should be over soon." Vivian muses with her deep alluring voice, as she sits down at a square table next to the fireplace, far from the commotion.
She pulls her hood down and the young adventurer can now clearly see those strikingly beautiful features in the light of the nearby candlebra. Vivian's eyes are indeed a deep cimson, her lips bright red and her hair is shiny, wavy and black. She has a delicate nose and prominent cheek bones, the face of a noble, reminding Herriman of the High Blood that runs the Human settlements. Staring in to her eyes for more than a few moments seems perilous for the Halfing, as he finds himself constantly struggling not to drown in Vivian's gaze.
"So, what do you suggest we do to stop mister Wizard from looting the Valley? I can place an arrow between his shoulderblades with fair ease, but somehow I think his benefactor will find a different errand boy, but will be forewarned this time. And slaying said benefactor... Well that's not something I'd risk doing unless there was no other alternative."
Even over the commotion of the nearby brawl, Herriman can clearly hear Vivian's voice, and a barely notecible accent, as if she was peaking an older variant of Muirlane Common, somehow twisting the pronounciation of her words as if she had come from one of the storybooks that speak of the times before the Unification.
She appears to be heavily distracted as the Dwarf's blood starts liberally soaking the wooden floor of the "Three Queens", staring at the fighting men with an intense stare that would break trough a stone wall.
[sblock]Roll a spot check. If you have any knowledge as a skill, roll that as well. the Unification has some common DC0 knowledge, I'll post that in the World Details.[/sblock]
***
Bolgrim laughs like a maniac and continues his assault, seemingly unphased by the two men's attacks. Blood gushes out from his wounds where Yasaderian bit in his sturdy muscles, and where Thok's Greatsword cleaved trough mail and skin. In an instant the Half Orc sees an opening while Bolgrim staggers on his feet, and lunges forward, driving his blade trough the Dawrf's gut. Blood gushes out by the galons and splashes across the tavern floor and Thok's arms, chest and face. Bolgrim screams and swings madly in retaliation.
His axe flies in a flurry towards the Half-Orc, as the Dwarf seems detached from the grim reality of his situation. The strength behind his blows is impossible, and each hit feels as if a tree trunk is smashing against Thok. The axe bites horribly deep across Thok's massive thigh, chest and finally lunges in his shoulder. Only the Barbarian's strong muscles prevent him from dying from the wounds right then and there.
Somewhere from behind, as the other Dwarves are struggling against the female Paladin and her two escorts, one notices Bolgrim's condition and shouts.
"Oi dem boys a'll get carved up by o'l Bolgrim!" The other Dwarves look at the fight with their murky, drunk stares and start laughing.
[sblock]Full attack vs Thok.
All three hit AC 18. Not sure why Thok isn't raging btw
Bolgrim deals a total of
108 damage to Thok. (105 when I account for DR)
Looking at Thok's stats. He has DR 1/-, and has been hit by Bolgrim 4 times, so that's -4 damage overall. So right now Thok is at 136 damage taken out of 128 HP. He would collapes unconscious on the floor unless he raged right now (I'll allow it, it's a free action). Assuming Thok enters Rage, his stats will be as such:
HP:
8/144, AC goes down to
16, and gets +4 str (take it in to account for attack bonus/damage)
[sblock=secret DM screen][sblock=Do not look please!]Bolgrim Bloodaxe
HP 192, dmg reduction 2/-, AC 16
Rage/Frenzy: HP:
77/216/2, dmg reduction 2/-, AC: 10, takes 2 points of NLDMG per round
Total full attack: +25/+20/+15 (-5 PA)
Damage: 1d12+15 (str) + 10 (PA) + 3 enchantment
Rage/Frenzy: 8/9 rounds.
Loot: Adamantine Breastplate, Greataxe +3, 1000 gp.
[/sblock][/sblock][/sblock]
***
Ferviel shakes his head and then runs his mail clad fingers trough his short stubby blond hair.
"Nah, you should help him. Filippo's a good man, but he's babying that boy too much. It's like this: boy cries, father gives him gold for "adventuring gear" and next thing you know it, boy ends up in a bear cave. And then it's Ferviel's job to go scare the bear off and heal the brat's half eaten legs. You'd think that would teach him, but no, he managed to loose himself again. With those zombies running around that Bran found, I'm betting a whole barrel of Filippo's wine that Chester and his "adventurers" went on a mission of extermination."
Ferviel pauses as he takes another swig of wine, and turns a corner down a cobblestone path. Commotion can be heard, coming from a nearby tavern. A brawl is taking place inside to be sure, but Ferviel doesn't seem too concerned.
"Now I don't know where these undead are spawning from, but it sure isn't the Valley like everyone thinks. That place has been warded off and locked up for decades, I personally check Lathander's Ward every week. But you know, zombies ain't the fastest critters around anyway, I'm sure the boy is fine. So what's your story? What are you doing here, besides pissing off Lathander's holy followers?" Ferviel laughs with his raspy voice and removes his mace from the holster. The weapon glows wtih the blue aura common for magical wepons, as well with the white light of holy energy. The head is made of a dark metal, most probably Cold Iron, and the whole shaft is covered with text.
