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  #1  
Unread 20th of August, 2006, 21:17
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Post Scenario 3, Part 2

Scenario 3, Quick Post 7: Names

“Stay with me, blessed one; I don’t want to lose you.”
Babelson cringes at the title and does his best to keep up the fast pace set by his captors. The woman moves through the forest as quick and as quiet as a wolf. Probably because she IS one! Babelson thinks.
They’ve been on the move for a solid hour, not slowing one bit. The woman’s archers are as in good a shape as she; they haven’t lagged or slowed down at all. Probably used to running all day in the woods. Wonder if they are wolves too?
“What’s on your mind, blessed of Malar?” the woman asks, moving past a large stand of poplars, their leaves already showing hints of yellow.
“Pl-please don’t call me that,” Babelson says, barely above a whisper.
The woman stops suddenly and wheels around. “Don’t call you what you are? The blessed one? The child of promise who is proof of Malar’s favor?”
Babelson flinches at each sentence and hangs his head. Sweat runs down his face and chest and his hair is plastered to his scalp; his hand wrappings are in tatters.
The woman sniffs and looks around, noting how her archers have already taken up positions to watch their back trail. She turns her gray eyes back on the boy and asks, “What do mortals call you?”
“Folk call me Babelson.”
“After your mortal father, yes?”
Babelson nods, trying to block the thoughts of his childhood, the sadness on his father’s face every time he looked upon his son. Forgive me mother…
“That will be fine for me,” she says, “but don’t expect my master to call you anything other than what you are.”
“And…what am I…exactly?” Babelson asks, dreading the answer.
The woman scratches behind her ear and says, “You are the chosen of Malar – touched by his own hand.” She whispers reverently, running her sharp nails along Babelson’s chest. He flinches and backs away at her touch.
“You are the answer to years of prayer. My master has watched you grow up among your people. He believes, as do I, that you are the catalyst that will prove to the Realms that we are more than just wild animals in the dark. Mortals have oppressed us for ages – hunted us and killed us for sport just because we are different; just because we embrace the call of nature within us. You, Babelson, are the blessed one – the one that will lead us to glory.”
Babelson frowns at this, not knowing what to think. And to change the subject, he asks, “What is your name, lady?”
The woman smiles, her canine-like teeth white and shining. “My master calls me ‘Raven’.”
“For the color of your hair?” Babelson asks.
The woman drops her gray eyes and tinges of color spot her cheeks. Then she raises her head and nods. Suddenly, a howl echoes through the forest; its source is not far away. Babelson backs up against a tree, his heart pounding.
Raven smirks and says, “Not to worry – it is just White Spot – the pack has brought down a deer. Are you hungry, Babelson?”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Talk to me, akiko.
-g-

Last edited by hedgeknight; 23rd of August, 2006 at 11:11.
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Unread 20th of August, 2006, 23:24
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Looking to her in a bit of awe the big fisted hin is taken aback. Its been quite a while since he has traveled with other beasts or humans. Having only taken the guard job to fight off isolation blues him and Red have been alone in the woods for quite some time. "I usually don't eat the animals." The druid responds thinking about how he would usually forage for vegetables and nuts while his companion would catch a rabbit or other small creature for his meal. Never quite sitting well with him Babelson realized that Red was only an animal, and performing his necessary function in food chain. He on the other hand didn't necessitate the flesh so he avoided it whenever possible.

While moving quickly through the forest Babelson thinks back to his companion. Perhaps he will find help. *sigh* I'm beyond help, I can't drag anyone else into this anymore. Well, you never know when someone who actually has the ability to help may show up. He thinks while absentmindedly picking at his wrappings, leaving tiny pieces behind every few hundred meters or so.
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Unread 22nd of August, 2006, 23:11
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Quick Post 8

Scenario 3, Quick Post 8: The Hunt

Looking around, Gregson smiles. The other guard looks at him as if he were mad. "What are you smiling about fool... we've failed our duty."
"Nay, we haven't failed, or we'd all be dead." Gregson states, gesturing to those still alive. "We may not have won the day, but, we've saved many lives trying."
The smile upon Gregson's face doesn't depict the true turmoil of emotions welling up within Gregson. Nearly a dozen of my fellow guardsmen dead, Domin looking quite worse for wear, even one of the common folk fallen by their foul arrows... quite a bloody battle. "Learn to see the light in the dark Jesse, there's much yet to live for... like seeing the rest of these poor folk to safety." He says referring to the remaining passengers.
"You got a strange look in your eyes Greg'... what gives?" Asks Jesse, the other guard.

What gives? Maybe seeing that pit-be-damned-she-wolf-beast take off with that poor little half-man. Maybe seeing the arrows rain into the flesh of my comrades but not a one hit me. Maybe hearing you whine like a first year guard fresh out of the academy. MAYBE, having the feeling that I'm powerless to do anything about it.
"Attend to these folk and the sheep; I'm going to talk with Domin."

Walking over to where the others are attending their wounded Gregson overhears the elf and the half-orc talk of pursuit. “I counted 8 archers with the wench,” Mirko is saying. “We should be able to take care of them if we can turn the tables. They’ll either leave some of them behind in waiting or set traps for us; either way we have to be careful. If they see us coming they might set another ambush.”
“No ‘might’ about it,” Domin says with a grunt. “You can bet yer arse they will be waiting on you somewhere in them woods.”

"Sir?" Gregson asks, walking up to Domin, "Might I venture forth, into the woods, with the rest of these guys? I'd like to lend whatever help I can, and dole out vengeance for my fallen comrades, such as it may be. I don't know what help I'd be here if the barges were to fall under attack again, but out there..." he gestures to the forest "well, I know I'm sworn to you, so I ask, no, I beg you... let me go with them? They can use all the help they can get."
Mirko glances at the young guard as he adjusts his sword belt and armor to be more comfortable when running. Aramil says nothing, but Bra’kan gives a snort and a chuckle. Domin looks to Jesse who shrugs and then back to Gregson.
“Vengeance will eat up a man…if he lets it. You sure you want to do this?”
“Aye, captain Domin, I do.”
“Very well, lad. But you might want to ask these men if they’ll have you.”
(OOC: This is a good spot for some conversation among your characters. I’ll proceed with the post as if Gregson is along for the hunt. But, I would like to read some interaction between the four of you.)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


“I asked if you are hungry, Babelson?”
Looking to her in a bit of awe the big fisted Hin is taken aback. It’s been quite a while since he has traveled with other beasts or humans. Having only taken the guard job to fight off isolation blues, he and Red have been alone in the woods for quite some time. "I usually don't eat the animals." The druid responds, thinking about how he would usually forage for vegetables and nuts while his companion would catch a rabbit or other small creatures for his meal. Never quite sitting well with him, Babelson realized that Red was only an animal, and performing his necessary function in food chain. He on the other hand didn't necessitate the flesh so he avoided it whenever possible.
Raven merely smiles at his reply and heads deeper into the forest. “Not to worry – we have food aplenty for our trip.”

The “pack” moves quickly and quietly; Raven sets an unrelenting pace. While moving through the forest, Babelson thinks back to his companion. Perhaps he will find help. *sigh* I'm beyond help; I can't drag anyone else into this anymore. Well, you never know when someone who actually has the ability to help may show up. He thinks while absentmindedly picking at his wrappings, leaving tiny pieces behind every few hundred meters or so. (OOC: Nice plan!)

As night falls on Ardeep Forest, Raven calls a halt, seeking high ground on a knoll overlooking a glen with a trickling stream. Babelson staggers toward her, sweaty and exhausted, his legs quivering with soreness.
“Sleep here, Babelson; I’ll watch over you.” She says, pulling a slick stone from a pouch at her waist. As Babelson stumbles and plops down on a bed of leaves and moss, Raven draws her knife and begins sharpening the blade.
The last thing Babelson hears before sleep consumes him is the grinding sound of stone on metal and Raven’s whisper – “Rest well, blessed of Malar.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Having made camp after tracking the she-beast and her archers, the companions are weary. “It’s been a long day,” Mirko says, wincing at the stabbing pain still in his lower back from one of the archer’s arrows.
“Tell me ‘bout it,” Bra’kan grumbles, leaning against a stout oak and sliding down to the ground. “I’m sore all over. Kinda like the morning after in Beliard when I hooked up with…er…yeah.”
The Half-orc glances at Gregson as he stumbles over his words, causing the guard’s face to redden. “I’ll…er, take first watch!” Gregson says hurriedly and stumbles off into the darkness. Mirko watches him go and catches Aramil’s eyes. The Elf nods and goes to watch with the young guard.
Bra’kan sighs and takes a bite out of a cold piece of jerky; the last of his “stock” from the good folk in Beliard. Mirko frowns and says, “You still have some of that? It should be ripe by now!”
“Ah, what don’t kill a man makes him stronger…and meaner!” Bra’kan says with a laugh. “You think we’ll find the boy alive?”

Mirko nods. “She won’t kill him – at least that’s what my gut tells me. She wants him for her ‘master’ – whoever the hell that is! But, gods only know what will happen to him if we don’t intercept them.”
“When we find them,” Bra’kan says, chewing on the jerky, “just stay out of my way. That bitch is all mine!”
“And you remember what I said,” Mirko adds, pointing at his fellow barbarian. “Aramil leads the way and we don’t attack until he gives us the signal. We’ll only have one chance to do this right. And if you screw it up playing the hero, I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Kill me?” Bra’kan barks with a laugh, getting choked on the half-eaten jerky and spewing most of it on the leaves.
Mirko just grunts and leans back against a tree, his arms hugging his ribs. “You’ll probably be dead by morning anyway from that damned jerky.” He mutters, drifting off to a restless sleep.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

OOC: Through the night, after 8 hours of rest, everyone heals up 1+CON bonus in hit points. I've adjusted your stats below.

Stats:
Aramil – 12/12 (13 silver arrows)
Bra’kan – 15/15
Gregson – full hp (13 silver arrows)
Mirko – 27/21 (4 silver arrows)
Items: 1 vial of healing

All future posts belong in this thread - Scenario 3, Part 2. Take a look in OOC for XP!
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-g-
  #4  
Unread 25th of August, 2006, 12:12
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Gregson, ever vigilant on watch keeps his pacing around the tree quiet while thinking back on the previous days events. Vengence will eat a man up? Well if I don't do SOMETHING, that poor little half-man will be the one being eaten. I beleive Mirko is right though, whatever the outcome is I know it was the right thing to do. I just hope Domin, Jesse and those folk make it where they're going safely... If anything happens to them I'll feel like shit.

After his watch is up and Gregson is huddled up in his bedroll sleep remains evasive. Wow, I never thought I'd end up on a real Adventure. I guess that's what you'd call this. I wonder if it's like everyone says, 'dragons and treasures' and all. Guess we'll find out. After about an hour of tossing and turning Gregson recites a poem his Grandfather used to tell him to help him get to sleep.

"Sleep you are my hero, I envy you so much,
In your quiet dance of night, Your clever non-felt touch,
Subconcious waltz into the temporarily oblivious,
Sleep, will I always be this envious?"

With that lullaby in his head, Gregson finally drifts off to sleep.
  #5  
Unread 26th of August, 2006, 22:10
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Quick Post 9

Scenario 3, Quick Post 9: Voices in the Mist

Running…limbs and vines tangling, holding…wet with sweat…ragged and torn…lungs burning, gasping for breath…red eyes chasing…closer, ever closer…the moon lights the path…the moon sings to the soul…borne to the ground…sharp white teeth…ripping flesh, drinking blood…the blood is the life…the moon calls…and you answer!

“RAARGGHHH!”
Bra’kan’s cry shakes the pre-dawn stillness and Mirko nearly comes out of his skin. Leaping up, drawing steel, Gregson looks around for whatever is attacking. Aramil comes running, bow ready, eyes searching the undergrowth. Bra’kan breathes hard and looks around at his companions. He looks haggard and his hair is matted with sweat, dirt, and leaves.
“What the hell was that about?” Gregson asks.
“Must’ve…she was…nothing,” Bra’kan stutters, his face in his hands. “Just…a dream.”
“Nightmare more like it,” Mirko says, taking a deep breath and sheathing his sword. “It’s what you get for eating all that jerky before going to sleep last night.”
“I wish you’d get off me about that damned jerky!” Bra’kan says, his voice raised in anger. The barbarian gets up and stomps off into the cover of the woods to relieve himself. Aramil glances at Mirko, but says nothing; Gregson shakes his head and begins to break camp.
“What do you think?” Aramil asks, his voice low and pitched for Mirko’s ears only.
“He said it was just a dream,” Mirko says with a sigh. “For now, let’s leave it at that. We have more important things to worry about today.”
Breaking camp takes almost no time and not more than a half a mile farther on, Aramil finds something interesting. Here and there are small bits of cloth, seemingly dropped on the ground. Gregson laughs aloud when the ranger shows them the cloth. “That lad knows what he’s doing,” the guard says, nodding in approval.
“Leaving us a trail right to him.” Aramil confirms. “Let’s hurry.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Come to me, blessed one. Come to me, child of Malar.
Babelson comes awake with a start and looks up into Raven’s gray, smiling eyes. “Wake up, Babelson – time to be on our way.”
The voice in his head, skittering about the edges of his mind, confuses him for a moment, but then it disappears and Babelson gets up and stretches, looking around the ridge where they slept for the night. A white mist hovers along the ground, and the air is moist and cool. Already the archers are on the move; three are talking to Raven about 10 feet from him. The archers are rough looking men with thick beards and long hair. They almost always keep their hoods up and they are as quiet in the woods as a tiptoeing deer.
Babelson’s stomach grumbles and he hears a sound above him. Glancing up, he sees a reddish brown squirrel hanging on the side of a tall oak tree. The squirrel, jittery and excited as most are, abruptly sneezes, and moves a little closer to the young man. Babelson smiles and glances back at Raven, who is still in conversation with her archers. Ready to give these servants of Malar the slip, child?
Babelson’s head jerks up so fast he almost strains his neck. The words crawl through his mind and find a hold. The excited squirrel, its tail twitching and jerking, is staring intently at him. Babelson opens his mouth and is about to say something when the same voice rebukes him.
Not out loud, child. She’ll hear you! Now, are you ready to make a run for it?
Babelson looks at Raven and then back at the squirrel and then back at Raven. He concentrates and thinks, Who are you? What are you?
The squirrel crawls a little closer, its tail curled over its back. A servant of the Lady…sent to rescue you. Now, let’s go!
The mists along the ground begin to rise, quickly obscuring Babelson and the squirrel and the ridge with all its inhabitants.
Run, child! Run!
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


Stats:
Aramil – 12/12 (13 silver arrows)
Babelson – full hp
Bra’kan – 15/15
Gregson – full hp (13 silver arrows)
Mirko – 27/21 (4 silver arrows)
Items: 1 vial of healing

Morning fellers! Thanks for your patience. Here's Babelson's chance - is he gonna run for it?? And who is carrying the vial of healing?
Talk to me 'cause I want to post again late tonight or in the morning. It's starting to heat up!
-g-
  #6  
Unread 28th of August, 2006, 06:43
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Giving rapid glances between the squirrel and the woman who is leading him to certain doom Babelson contemplates his current dilemma.

I can't run. I have endangered too many people already. Maybe if I just stopped running already and died it would be all over and no one would have to worry about the 'blessed one' anymore. I'm so sick of this. Why couldn't running off with Red into the woods solved it all. Why does noone want to leave me alone?

I am a hin. And we do not run. We are fearless, brave and laugh at danger. I can face this without problem.


Babelson crosses his arms defiantly still steadfastly not moving.

Who the fuck am I kidding? I'm running like I always have. He takes off under the cover of fog, following behind the small mammal as best as possible.
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Unread 28th of August, 2006, 12:25
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Scenario 3, Quick Post 10

Scenario 3, Quick Post 10: The Hunt and the Chase

The conflict in Babelson’s mind takes less than three seconds, but it seems like hours to the impatient squirrel. Tail jerking and jittery, the squirrel knew it was only a matter of seconds before Raven noticed the rising mists.
But then the lad finally takes off running and the squirrel leaps from tree to tree, urging him onward, ever faster, and trying to put as much distance between him and his captors as possible.
A howl of rage and pain suddenly shakes the stillness of the forest and Babelson knows that Raven has discovered his flight. And he knows that she will not hesitate to track him down. But…what will she do if she catches him?
Don’t think – RUN!
The command shatters his thoughts and Babelson pushes himself harder than he ever has. Plunging down a hill, he trips and falls, tumbling head over heels, scratching and tearing his flesh and clothes. He reaches and catches a sapling and stops his fall, his mind addled by the tumble. But he doesn’t have time to regain his balance for he hears howls behind him and the chattering squirrel urging him onward.
Babelson runs until his legs on fire and his lungs are bursting for air. And although he runs, he knows that she is gaining on him. He can feel it – he can almost hear her heart pounding and smell her animalistic scent.
If only I could do something to slow her down.
But as he tries to think of what he could do, the familiar voice pops into his head. I’ve a few tricks up my sleeve, lad!
Babelson doesn’t stop running but he hears the chanting voice in his mind, chanting a spell he knows. He can almost see the forest come alive behind him – vines and grasses and saplings and limbs, reaching and grabbing, entangling his pursuers. In fact, he hears cries of surprise and frustration and he smiles.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Aramil pushes his companions hard, following the small pieces of wrapping, knowing it will lead him to the young man. When ol’ Red smelled the torn pieces of cloth, he got so excited he took off at a dash, heading for the hilly forested depths of Ardeep. Aramil reined him in, but only barely, and since then, he has set a pace that has kept Bra’kan cursing and threatening to eat the dog once they make camp again.
Moving as swiftly as possible, the companions head toward a hilly range filled with gulches and steep sloping ridges. A low mist floats along the ground, chilling the air. A small stream meanders through the rocky hills, underneath fallen trees and around large boulders that seem to have been moved by giants. Ol’ Red snuffs along the bank of the stream and with a low “woof” heads upstream, skirting a steep ridge on the left.
But as soon as the stream levels out a bit, Red stops and begins to growl. Aramil stops too and readies his bow, but he soon sees the cause for the hound’s mood.
A doe lies near the bank of the stream, torn and bloodied – entrails and pieces of her hide strewn all around. Lots of paw prints dot smudge the area as well as scat and even pieces of hair that Aramil knows belong to wolves.
But then he finds a boot print and another print that he knows must belong to Babelson. He looks up to tell his companions they are close when a howl echoes through the hills. The howl is soon followed by another and then another.
Red barks and takes off a dead run, heading upstream. Aramil runs after him and so do the rest of the companions, knowing that the howling wolves are hunting.
The stream breaks to the right but Red splashes through it to the opposite side and heads toward a break in the ridge. And suddenly, the hills are alive with the sound of…pursuit. (OOC: Just had to use that line! )
Coming through the gap in the ridge is a haggard young man, stumbling and running for his life – it’s Babelson! Red yelps happily and presses harder toward his friend, but the companions slow their pursuit as figures come crashing through the underbrush after the young man. Wolves dart through the trees on one side and coming down the ridge are the archers, led by the she-wolf, Raven. She is in hybrid form and howls when she spies the companions just below her.
But then…a newcomer enters the scene – moving gracefully, yet powerfully, a centaur emerges from the edge of a thicket. He has a bow of dark wood in his hands and he wears a studded leather shirt that covers most of his muscular chest and shoulders. His flank and legs are dun in hue and his tail (like the hair on his head) is the color of rich chocolate.
Seeing the forces chasing Babelson, the centaur raises a hunting horn to his mouth and blows a long, deep note. “For the Lady, let us drive these curs back to their holes!”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Stats:
Aramil – 20/20 (13 silver arrows)
Babelson – full hp
Bra’kan – 26/26
Gregson – full hp (13 silver arrows)
Mirko – 27/21 (4 silver arrows)
Items: 1 vial of healing (carried by Gregson)

Alrighty fellers - this is it! Take a good look at the map and give me your actions - two or three rounds worth. Imagine the archers descending upon your left, slightly above you, but in plain sight except for the occasional tree. Looking forward to your posts - OOC me with questions - whoohoo! Here we go!
-g-
Attached Images
File Type: jpg Ardeep Map 1.JPG (63.9 KB, 8 views)

Last edited by hedgeknight; 29th of August, 2006 at 04:45.
  #8  
Unread 28th of August, 2006, 13:18
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What a majestic looking creature! Boy, I hope he's on our side. Reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the centaur, Gregson spots the archers bearing down on the little half-man he's come to know as Babelson.

"For Goldenfields!" Gregson screams, attempting to tear the archers attention away from Babelson while making his way towards the hillside the archers are coming from. I will have my vengence by the blood of my enemies.

He makes his way from tree to tree, stopping to let loose a shaft every 20-30 feet while taking cover from the various trees spotted around the hillside. He takes aim at the nearest archers first while gradually closing the distance trying to make it to point-blank range if his targets prove tough to hit.
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Unread 29th of August, 2006, 03:35
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GRRRR! "GRRRRR!" GRRRRR! "GRRRR!" Stealth, should have let him lead in with stealth. They suprised us. "ARGH!" Bra'kan looks at his surrounds and sees the woman, he takes a quick wince and decides to try and stay away from her. He decides to go after her support archers, trying to take them down before they have a chance to come after them.

OOC: Move along map attacking archers, starting SE most archer, and continuing clockwise.
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Unread 29th of August, 2006, 04:25
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Mirko quickly takes in the battle field and situation, archers, wolves and the she-wolf, if we take her down they’ll fall apart,
The man-beast does not seem friendly to the she-wolf , maybe an allie...for now...
If the wolves get to us we’ll be sitting for the archers, they’ll take us like on the barges,

Mirko moves forward putting silver arrows in the air directed at the She-wolf, expecting the wolves to move in, he moves trying to get as close to her and pins some silver arrows before they rush him

"Fire at the She-wolf!"

"KEEP RUNNIG BABEL!!"
"move pass the river!!"

OOC: Mirko will fire his silver arrows at the she-wolf, moves a bit forward so when the wolves move in he can cover the archers (Aramil and Gregson) and allow them to keep firing, when the wolves move in, he’ll cut them down with his great sword moving towards the she-wolf to cut her down as well (using the silver dagger)
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Last edited by Belkregos; 29th of August, 2006 at 04:31.
  #11  
Unread 29th of August, 2006, 11:46
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You can make it. They'll lose you behind those large horse people- what the high holy hell?! Horse people. B-b-but, that's not right. What the hell are you thinking you have the mark of some evil deity, that woman back there turned into a beast and there are wolves chasing me.

Babelson never turns around. He continues running full speed past the equines.
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Unread 30th of August, 2006, 00:57
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Scenario 3, Quick Post 11

Scenario 3, Quick Post 11: Forest Fight
Initiative Order: Babelson (23), Red (22), Raven (22), Bra’kan (17), Archers (16), Aramil (16), Centaur (15), Wolves (15), Mirko (9), Gregson (6), Squirrel (4)

You can make it. They'll lose you behind that large horse person - what the high holy hell?! Horse people. B-b-but, that's not right. What the hell are you thinking you have the mark of some evil deity, that woman back there turned into a beast, and there are wolves chasing me.
His mind churning with questions, Babelson never turns around. He continues running full speed toward the centaur. Red heads toward his companion, barking and growling at the wolves that are heading toward Babelson.


What a majestic looking creature! Boy, I hope he's on our side. Reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the centaur, Gregson spots the archers bearing down on the little half-man he's come to know as Babelson.
"For Goldenfields!" Gregson screams, attempting to tear the archers’ attention away from Babelson while making his way towards the hillside the archers are coming from. I will have my vengeance by the blood of my enemies.
He makes his way from tree to tree, with Aramil just ahead of him. But as he and the ranger take aim at the archers, both are hit with a sticky web as if from a giant spider! Strands grab and hold them, anchoring them to trees and bushes. They struggle to break free as the cackling laughter the she-wolf echoes through the forest.

“Kill them all, my pets! But save the blessed one for me!”

GRRRR! "GRRRRR!" GRRRRR! "GRRRR!" Stealth, should have let him lead in with stealth. They surprised us. "ARGH!"
Bra’kan is already angry but when he looks around and sees the woman, he winces with remembered pain and decides to try and stay away from her. Instead, he charges up the hill, straight toward one of the archers. An arrow buzzes over his head and another glances off his armor, doing no damage. Bra’kan roars as he closes with the archer in front of him, bringing his double Orc axe to bear on the hooded man. Bra’kan cuts the archer in the ribs, taking the wind out of him and almost knocking him down (D8). The archer cries out, but quickly rebounds, drawing a knife and swiping it at Bra’kan. The barbarian avoids the blade and brings the axe down on the archer, cleaving him deep in the chest, killing him instantly! (D9)
On the other side of the woods, the centaur charges his ages-old enemies, the wolves, aiming and firing on the hoof (literally). A white-fletched arrow takes one of the wolves in the throat, and it yelps and rolls through the leaves, but doesn’t get up.
The wolves move in for the kill, lunging and biting at the centaur, drawing blood from his flank. Red joins the fray, running past Babelson and grappling with one of the wolves, savaging the beast’s neck with his teeth! The wolf tries to overpower Red, but the stout riding dog will not be shaken and in seconds, he finishes off the wolf and turns to face another that is nipping at his tail! (Go big Red!)

Mirko quickly takes in the battlefield and situation, and knows that if they take her down, the rest will fall or leave. "Fire at the She-wolf!" he yells, moving to get a good shot. Mirko nocks a silver arrow and fires. His aim is true and the silver-tipped arrow slams the she-wolf in the ribs, knocking her to one knee! (D11)
She screams in agony as the silver burns her to the core. She fixes her gray eyes on the barbarian, snarling with fury. “You are mine, barbarian!” she growls, raising her paws…just as another arrow buries deep into her back! (D12)
The she-wolf staggers against a tree and looks around frantically to see where the new threat came from. Her eyes widen with shock as the “squirrel” turns out to be a Wood Elf, perched on a limb in a nearby tree.
“That hurt?” he says, pulling another silver-tipped arrow from his quiver. But the she-wolf answers by chanting and sending a scorching ray of fire at the Wood Elf, blasting him out of the tree!
Mirko watches in stunned silence as the Wood Elf falls out of sight and then he turns his attention back to the she-wolf. “KEEP RUNNING BABEL!” he yells, knowing she’s going to kill them all. “Keep running past the creek and don’t look back!”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Stats:
Aramil – 20/20 (13 silver arrows) – webbed!
Babelson – full hp
Bra’kan – 26/26
Gregson – full hp (13 silver arrows) – webbed!
Mirko – 27/21 (4 silver arrows)
Items: 1 vial of healing (carried by Gregson)


Whoohoo fellers! It's clobberin' time! Raven is hurting but that's only making her meaner and madder. Take a good look at the map and talk to me. I want to post again no later than tomorrow. My prediction for the next post: somebody is gonna die!
-g-
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Unread 30th of August, 2006, 08:36
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Gregson struggles to break free from the sticky webs, moving away from the entangled area while looking around for the spider that could have done this. Must be a Big spider, or magic... ya could've been magic.

"Aramil, how are we to break free from this?" he shouts over to his companion, but seeing that's he's wrapped up at the moment he struggles on his own. Damnit, they're going to take my glory from me, the battle will be done before I get out of this mess.
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Unread 30th of August, 2006, 08:57
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"I.....don't.....know......break it.....I guess...." Aramil says, strugling to break the webs. Damn magic. Can go join the devils and demons.......They will pay, though.....oh, they will pay.....


OOC: Try to break free until successful. Once successful, move out using the shortest way possible. Then fire upon the she-bitch(wait, that's kind of an oxymoron....oh well) with silver arrows until she is dead. D-E-D, dead.
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Unread 30th of August, 2006, 10:04
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Mirko rushes forward bringing out the silver dagger intent in gutting the bitch navel to throat

DAMNED BITCH!!

archers, wolves, cursed magics!
all this and still you’ll end up dead,
thrown to the side with out ceremony or glory, just meat on the side
all I need is a blade, the rest I have
look in to my eyes only death you’ll find
I’ll gut you navel to throat!!

I’M yours?
good!
here, take it bitch!!

Mirko rushes the she wolf, silver blade in hand, (goes in to RAGE!! and charges) he knows he’s the one most likely end up in pieces but he knows he can stand tow to tow a few blows against her, enough for his companions to come down on her, if he can stop her that long, prevent her from calling her dark weapons, she’s as good as dead,
one mistake on her part is all he needs, one more mistake on her part
she already made 2, shell make another one
this bitch is dead already and he’ll make her know it
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  #16  
Unread 30th of August, 2006, 10:35
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"The archers are MINE!" Bra'kan continues on his rampage tearing apart the archers, bringing them down to their knees like the she-bitch had done to him before. I won't lose this time. REVENGE! "REVENGE" Bra'kan swings his mighty axe at all who stand before him, and laughs every second he can.

OOC: Continue archer onslaugt, moving along the line. Once damage is taken, rage for more power.
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Unread 30th of August, 2006, 13:03
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"Red! Be careful." Babelson straps his shield to his arm and runs behind the wolf currently attacking his dog. Figuring to divide the beasts attention he prods it with his shield. When he has enough time he draws his scimitar in an attempt to actually help draw blood. "Soo how do handle these beasts, large man?" He asks, looking up towards the horse-man.
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Unread 30th of August, 2006, 23:42
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Scenario 3, Quick Post 12

Scenario 3, Quick Post 12: Blood for Blood
Initiative Order: Babelson (23), Red (22), Raven (22), Bra’kan (17), Archers (16), Aramil (16), Centaur (15), Wolves (15), Mirko (9), Gregson (6), Elven Druid (4)

"Red! Be careful." Babelson says, strapping his shield to his arm and running behind the wolf currently attacking his dog. Figuring to divide the beast’s attention, he prods it with his shield. The wolf ignores him, intent upon the large hound that has already slain one of its pack brothers. “So…how do you handle these beasts, large man?” he asks, looking up at the centaur while he draws a scimitar from his belt.
A snapping twig alerts Babelson and he turns in time to see another wolf charging toward him! “Killing them works best for me, lad!” the centaur replies, pulling a large flail from a holster on his back.
Babelson slashes at the wolf but misses the beast which snaps at his legs, ripping a hole in his breeches. Babelson whacks at the wolf again, but the beast is too quick, darting in and slamming into his legs, knocking him down!
Red and a wolf leap at each other, growling and tearing out large chunks of hair. The wolf latches onto one of Red’s legs while Red goes for the throat. The two canines roll and thrash into a large patch of vines and brambles and then in a few seconds their thrashing suddenly stops with a yelp and a strangled sound.
The centaur swings the flail overhead and brings it down on the back of a wolf, crushing the beast’s spine! The second wolf seizes the opportunity and attacks, tearing into the centaur’s shoulder, leaving a bloody gash. The centaur shakes the wolf loose and swings at it with the flail, barely missing.

"The archers are MINE!" Bra'kan roars, continuing on his rampage. He charges the archers, intent on tearing them apart and bringing them down to their knees like the she-bitch had done to him before. I won't lose this time. REVENGE! "REVENGE!"Bra'kan roars, as one arrow flies by him, and another digs into his shoulder (D4). Blood is pounding in his ears and he smells it on his clothes…and his mind fills with rage!
Laughing manically, Bra’kan swings his mighty axe at the first archer he comes to, catching the man in the stomach (D7). Spinning, Bra’kan slams him again in the back (D5), dropping him like a sack of rocks.
The remaining archer fires at point blank range, nailing Bra’kan in the chest, but the enraged barbarian doesn’t even feel it. Instead, he laughs and charges the archer, twirling his axe and bringing it around in a deadly arc. The double headed axe first cuts the archer’s left arm clean off! (D9) Blood sprays the leaves and the archer screams, but Bra’kan keeps laughing even as his axe caves in the man’s face (D11).
A stinging pain barely registers through the haze and Bra’kan looks down to see a third arrow sticking out of his ribs (D4). He laughs and looks up to see the final archer, rapidly reloading. The blood calls to him and Bra’kan, eyes glazed and in full rage, feels the need…to feed. And he charges!

Gregson struggles to break free from the sticky webs, but he is wrapped up so well that all he can do is look around for the spider that could have done this. Must be a big spider, or magic... ya could've been magic.
"Aramil, how are we to break free from this?" he shouts over to his companion, but seeing that's he's wrapped up at the moment he struggles on his own.
Dammit, they're going to take my glory from me, the battle will be done before I get out of this mess.

"I.....don't.....know......break it.....I guess...." Aramil says, struggling to break the webs. Damn magic. Can go join the devils and demons.......They will pay, though.....oh, they will pay.....
And then, just like that, the ranger tears his arms and legs free! (Successful STR check of 22!) “Gregson, I’m out!” Aramil shouts, pulling a sticky silver-tipped arrow from his quiver and moving out from behind the webbed trees.

“DAMNED BITCH!!” Mirko roars, rushing forward. He jerks free the silver dagger, intent on gutting the she-wolf. She smiles at him and howls, sending the hair on his arms and neck standing on end. Leaping toward him, Mirko has but heartbeats to plan his attack as she bounds toward him.
I know I can stand toe to toe against her – if I can stop her long enough…one mistake is all I need – she’s already made two – she’ll make another! This bitch is as good as dead!
The two combatants clash in a flurry of claws and steel as the she-wolf rips Mirko across the face (D4) and again in the chest (D5).

“Archers, wolves, cursed magics!” Mirko says, shoving her off of him. “All this and still you’ll end up dead, thrown to the side with out ceremony or glory, just meat on the side!”
He slashes at her with the silver dagger, but she nimbly avoids the attack.
“Just meat is right, sweetling! And I promise to savor yours for a long time! Like I said, you’re all mine.”
Snarling, she leaps at the barbarian (just as Aramil breaks free; see above), attempting to bear him to the ground. Her sharp talons rake Mirko’s face (D6), barely avoiding his eyes. The barbarian roars in pain and rage and yells, “I’M YOURS? GOOD! HERE, TAKE IT, BITCH!”
And with both hands, Mirko drives the silver dagger deep into her stomach and rips upward, slicing her open from navel to throat! (C16)
Her scream of agony shakes the forest and her companions suddenly stop their attacks and turn her way. Gagging on her own bile, the she-wolf looks down at her ruined form, shocked to see her entrails dragging the ground.
Mirko, blood running down his face, can’t believe she’s still standing. “Want some more?” he growls, ready to charge again.
She glances in Babelson’s direction and a brief look of sadness comes over her. But then, she hardens her gaze and says, “Let’s end this!”
She gathers her legs to spring…and then relaxes as all of the energy goes out of her in an instant. Mirko blinks and then sees the familiar fletching of an arrow sticking out of the side of her head! (D7)
The barbarian quickly looks to his right to see Aramil lower his bow; a look of satisfaction on his Elven face. Mirko glances back at the she-wolf…watching in fascination as she reverts to human form.
“Is she dead? Are you guys dead? Could someone please help me out of this mess?” Gregson pleads with one arm stuck to the side of his head.

Across the forest, the wolves balk and flee, heading back into the deep recesses of the forest. Other sounds are heard in the woods, quite different from those of battle. Babelson is laughing and hugging Red – the hound is wounded but alive, and is trying to wash every part of the young man’s face.
The centaur blows a note of victory on his horn and it is answered by a call from the Wood Elf who, scorched and hurt, is limping toward Mirko and Aramil with a big smile on his face.
And there is one other sound in the forest, coming from the hill just above the companions. It is a wet, nauseating sound…the sound of a man dying in horror while a crazed Half-Orc ravages his throat like a hungry wolf.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


Stats:
Aramil – 20/20 (13 silver arrows) – free as a bird!
Babelson – 11/11
Bra’kan – 26/18 - feeding
Gregson – full hp (13 silver arrows) – still webbed!
Mirko – 27/6 (4 silver arrows)
Items: 1 vial of healing (carried by Gregson)


Alright fellers....now what?
-g-
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  #19  
Unread 31st of August, 2006, 05:15
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Mirko rises bloodied, muscles torn and cut; moves his arms and fingers making sure he’s still all functional,

"Good no tendons were cut"

a stoic cold stare in his eyes as he looks down at the pices of what used to be the she-wolf, spits the blood in his mouth to the side and steps over the body unceremoniously stops a step away bringing out a piece of cloth to wrap his wounds as he surveys the condition of his friends, nods at Aramil, and Gregson a barely noticeable smile rises when he sees Babel still alive but it fades as quickly when he sees Brakan going native, doesn’t say anything the stoic stare back on his eyes, tightens the wrapins of his wounds and nods at the new found allies (the elf and centaur) then remembers the she wolf at one time hade some healing water with her looking back at her body he says

“You might still have some use”

checks her carcass for anything valuable
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Last edited by Belkregos; 31st of August, 2006 at 05:23.
  #20  
Unread 31st of August, 2006, 07:49
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Best shot I've ever taken, if I do say so. Oh, Gregson... "Anyone have some way to get him," with a nod to the former guard, "out of that?" Aramil shouts to the elf and centaur. He then moves to the very edge, and with a shouted "catch" throws Gregson his sword. "I want that back whenever you manage to get out," he says with a smile. Wolves dead and fleeing....archers dead....nothing more for me to kill. I'll keep watch, I suppose.......

Upon the sounds of Bra'kan feasting Aramil's stomache churns, and a small amount of bile comes into his mouth. Fighting along him twice has proven almost detrimental to my health he thinks, swallowing his vomit. "Ack," he voices. "Not used to animals feasting like that." He then moves toward Babelson and Red, and continues. "You alright? She didn't get you, did she? No need to worry, though. She's dead as a brown leaf."
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Unread 31st of August, 2006, 08:32
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"Aye," Greg says catching the sword in his free hand. "I'll give it back, of course," then he begins slashing carefully away at the webs in an attempt to free himself. Isn't this just embarrasing, I should have worked out more. To think that an Elf broke free of something that I could not. What a blunder I've made of this mission. "Is the battle truly over?" The smile that usually inhabits Gregson's face is missing and a sad look is seen in his eyes.
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Unread 31st of August, 2006, 09:00
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Blood! Bra'kan basks in the blood of the enemies, once again letting the blood sit on his axe. He walks over among the group and sees Gregson caught in the webs. He decides to walk over to Aramil and give him a pat on the back. "Good Fight" Bra'kan laughs as the blood on his hand gets on Aramil's clothing.

Seeing that nothing else is happening, he decides to walk over Mirko and the she-bitch. You killed me. Now I shall change. With that thought, Bra'kan heaves his axe into the air and slams one side of his axe into her, trying to splash as much blood as possible out of her body and all over. Bra'kan smiles as he bathes in the blood, and looks over at Mirko, "it had to be done."
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Unread 31st of August, 2006, 09:08
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Hunched over the she-wolf carcass and going over her possessions Mirko keeps track of Brakan action with out being too obvious maintains himself between Brakan and the rest of the group, he thinks something worst than rage fueling the blood in his veins and is not sure how the new “allies” will react
If Brakan turns Mirko is not sure he can hold him back but he will try
and at the end if it comes to that Brakan is his friend before the new comers, for now he’s tense about where Brakan is going
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Unread 31st of August, 2006, 09:12
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Originally Posted by Noocytx Seeing that nothing else is happening, he decides to walk over Mirko and the she-bitch. You killed me. Now I shall change. With that thought, Bra'kan heaves his axe into the air and slams one side of his axe into her, trying to splash as much blood as possible out of her body and all over. Bra'kan smiles as he bathes in the blood, and looks over at Mirko, "it had to be done."
seeing Brakan back to his usual brute self Mirko nods with a smirk

he's thoughts seemed darker than what acrtually was, he tell's himself, theres nothing unnatural about Brakan actions
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Unread 31st of August, 2006, 10:51
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"What the heck was that?" The druid asks the centaur while looking off into the distance.
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