Croy is the capital of a small island kingdom of Skandiks. King
Melrik is only nominally allied with the powerful Skandik warlord of
Ossary, Alkazed, and Croy is friendly with the Invincible Overlord.
Called the Seat of Sages, Scholars' Retreat and Tinker Trove, Croy is
home to many craftsmen who meld arcane arts and lost secrets. Nearly
any item of advanced manufacture can be purchased here. This great
skill at craft comes from the knowledge gleaned from the secret
libraries of the nearby Shrine of the Tree, a temple to Odin. It
also is a source of fabulous pearls.
It is known that the larger Skandik isle of Breazal to the north has
designs upon Croy, and its defenders must be always on guard.
The town of Croy has a population of some 1,800, with around 6,000
people dwelling in the Royal Jarldom around Croy. King Melrik's
Huscarls number some 60 men and women. He is attended by Olaf Raven-
eye, the Wizard of Croy. King Melrik's wizard is a powerful
sorceror, but is said to be nearing his end.
The six lesser Jarldoms on the island comprise another 12,000 or so
population, each about 2,000 folk centred on a fortified steading.
Most of the Jarls have a Wise Woman or two on retainer, a couple have
the service of minor Wizards.
The Jarldom of the Ylfings under Jarl Eirik is typical. The Jarl
maintains a Personal Guard of some 20 Huscarls, and in time of war
can call on a Fyrd of 200 warriors. In extremis another 200 or so
thralls can be levied to fight.
In all the isle of Croy's total population is around 18,000.
Caernford is a heavily stockaded Dunael village on the Caern River, a
major centre of habitation for the Dunael of Dearthwood. It lies
just east of the Caern Bridge, a recently rebuilt wooden structure
that spans the narrow river.
Caernford lies some 15 miles northwest of Bier, 8 miles southeast of
Midway. It has a population of some 600, nearly all Dunael. There
is a Ranger Station here, its Warden Everett Lash reports directly to
the Dunael's Captain of Rangers. There are normally 5-12 other
Rangers present. Across the square, which turns out to be a rough & ready tavern
name of Branak's Beerhall.
Several minutes later, the Gate is opened, revealing the militiaman
accompanied by three ringmail-clad Dunael Rangers - two junior men
and the resplendent figure of Warden Everett Lash, a green Viridian
silk sash across his broad chest and broader stomach. A bushy white
moustache competes with craggy nose and bushy brow to dominate his
visage. A huge greatsword is slung over his shoulder.
He speaks, booming voice in the still night air:
Lash:
"Orcs, you say?! Tell me more!"
PCs
 |
| Iris Van Kennis of Croy |
Iris Van Kennis
(translates to Iris of Knowledge)
Rank/Position/Concept: Sorceress
Sex: female
Species: (normally human) human Skandik, some elven ancestry
Homeland: Croy, city of the Skandik Norse
Age: 20 in 4333
Height: (feet & inches) 5'2"
Weight: 102 lbs
Colour of - Hair: - Eyes: - Skin: Pale blond hair, very light greyish-blue eyes, almost silver, and creamy alabaster skin
Appearance: (eg handsome, ugly, fat, voluptuous, imposing) striking. She is attractive, but not beautiful, she dresses like an Amazon, though she is very short, she carries herself like she is 8 feet tall, and exudes a smouldering sexuality and power that leaves a lasting impression.
Clothing: (eg shirt, loincloth, tunic, long dress) leather and chain harness and a jade colored cape with Wotan's eye embroidered on it.
Demeanour: (eg grim, cheerful, studious) even tempered, studious with a charming magnanimous side to her when she feels up to displaying it.
Motivations: To gain life experience so she can prove to her Uncle/Mentor Olaf Raven-eye and deity Wotan that she is worthy of more power and knowledge. She seeks a staff, hidden somewhere in the city or surrounding area, and she can not inherit her mentor's spell book until she brings it back to him and proves herself worthy.
Background: Iris was very young when her parents were killed by an evil sorcerer. She was awestruck by the power he wielded, horrible as it was. She was taken in by her uncle, also a powerful wizard and the adviser to King Melrik of Croy. She was a strange and studious child, always after her uncle to teach her the ways of magic. As a result, she didn’t make friends easily, and had only one real friend at court. Arnora Fairhair, only daughter of the Jarl of the Ylfing clan. The two girls together, made much mischief as children, until Iris achieved the age of thirteen, when their paths parted, Iris was finally allowed to apprentice at her uncle’s side, and Arnora went on to become a rare Skjaldmeyjar, Shield Maiden She proved to have a keen mind and a natural affinity for magic, however, Olaf Raven-eye, wise man that he was always had his doubts about her, afraid that what she witnessed as a child would be too tempting, and she would slide to the dark side. He has tried to keep her neutral as she learned and grew, but now he is old, and infirm, and she has reached the time when she must learn her own true nature. He has given her a task to complete before he dies, so that he can move to Valhalla with the easy peace of mind that he did not leave his most powerful knowledge in the hands of one who will let it control her, rather than the other way around. He has stashed a magic staff with a trusted friend, and told Iris she must find it, and then legitimately buy it from the person who holds it. Only if she returns with the staff prior to his death, will she inherit the bulk of his knowledge. It's his hope that her life experiences as she works to earn the money and locate the item will reveal her true nature - whether good evil or neutral. The King has ordered his guard member and her old friend Arnora to accompany her on her journey and it is with great excitement that Iris prepares to leave her home, and make her way in the world.
Contacts: her mentor & uncle Olaf, the Wizard of Croy, King Melnik Ruler of Troy, Arnora Fairhair - Valkyrie
Strength Dexterity Constitution Intelligence Wisdom Charisma
7 (-1), 10, 13 (+1), 16X (+2), 12X, 15X(+1)
Class: Wizard Level: 2
Stats / Skills & Saves, inc +6 Prime bonus:
Str 7/+1
Dex 10/+2
Con 13/+3
Int 16/+10
Wis 12/+8
Cha 15/+9
HP: 8
AC: 10
Equipment: spell book , 3 daggers thrown ATT+0/d4-1, 2-h staff ATT-1/d6-1, 1 quarterstaff 1d6 damage, 1 bedroll 1sp, 1 backpack 2gp, quill 1sp
Wizard 2 XP 5,201 / 3210 8 8 10 or 16-18 0/d6-1 +8 sp: 104
T: Nobles' money pouch, with silver.
Travelling Spell Book: – also Read Magic
Spells Known & Memorised
0th level spells (4): Detect Magic, Endure Elements, Detect Poison, Light
1st level spells (4): Comprehend Languages, Magic Missilex2, Shield
Max spell known: 11
From wizard's keep record-keeper via Sgt Saren: a substantial stack of good
quality scroll parchment, quills and ink bottles.
2 Tharbrian riding horses
Rank/Position/Concept: Sorceress
Sex: female
Species: (normally human) human Skandik, some elven ancestry
Homeland: Croy, city of the Skandik Norse
Age: 20 in 4333
Height: (feet & inches) 5'2"
Weight: 102 lbs
Colour of - Hair: - Eyes: - Skin: Pale blond hair, very light greyish-blue eyes, almost silver, and creamy alabaster skin
Appearance: (eg handsome, ugly, fat, voluptuous, imposing) striking. She is attractive, but not beautiful, she dresses like an Amazon, though she is very short, she carries herself like she is 8 feet tall, and exudes a smouldering sexuality and power that leaves a lasting impression.
Clothing: (eg shirt, loincloth, tunic, long dress) leather and chain harness and a jade colored cape with Wotan's eye embroidered on it.
Demeanour: (eg grim, cheerful, studious) even tempered, studious with a charming magnanimous side to her when she feels up to displaying it.
Motivations: To gain life experience so she can prove to her Uncle/Mentor Olaf Raven-eye and deity Wotan that she is worthy of more power and knowledge. She seeks a staff, hidden somewhere in the city or surrounding area, and she can not inherit her mentor's spell book until she brings it back to him and proves herself worthy.
Background: Iris was very young when her parents were killed by an evil sorcerer. She was awestruck by the power he wielded, horrible as it was. She was taken in by her uncle, also a powerful wizard and the adviser to King Melrik of Croy. She was a strange and studious child, always after her uncle to teach her the ways of magic. As a result, she didn’t make friends easily, and had only one real friend at court. Arnora Fairhair, only daughter of the Jarl of the Ylfing clan. The two girls together, made much mischief as children, until Iris achieved the age of thirteen, when their paths parted, Iris was finally allowed to apprentice at her uncle’s side, and Arnora went on to become a rare Skjaldmeyjar, Shield Maiden She proved to have a keen mind and a natural affinity for magic, however, Olaf Raven-eye, wise man that he was always had his doubts about her, afraid that what she witnessed as a child would be too tempting, and she would slide to the dark side. He has tried to keep her neutral as she learned and grew, but now he is old, and infirm, and she has reached the time when she must learn her own true nature. He has given her a task to complete before he dies, so that he can move to Valhalla with the easy peace of mind that he did not leave his most powerful knowledge in the hands of one who will let it control her, rather than the other way around. He has stashed a magic staff with a trusted friend, and told Iris she must find it, and then legitimately buy it from the person who holds it. Only if she returns with the staff prior to his death, will she inherit the bulk of his knowledge. It's his hope that her life experiences as she works to earn the money and locate the item will reveal her true nature - whether good evil or neutral. The King has ordered his guard member and her old friend Arnora to accompany her on her journey and it is with great excitement that Iris prepares to leave her home, and make her way in the world.
Contacts: her mentor & uncle Olaf, the Wizard of Croy, King Melnik Ruler of Troy, Arnora Fairhair - Valkyrie
Strength Dexterity Constitution Intelligence Wisdom Charisma
7 (-1), 10, 13 (+1), 16X (+2), 12X, 15X(+1)
Class: Wizard Level: 2
Stats / Skills & Saves, inc +6 Prime bonus:
Str 7/+1
Dex 10/+2
Con 13/+3
Int 16/+10
Wis 12/+8
Cha 15/+9
HP: 8
AC: 10
Equipment: spell book , 3 daggers thrown ATT+0/d4-1, 2-h staff ATT-1/d6-1, 1 quarterstaff 1d6 damage, 1 bedroll 1sp, 1 backpack 2gp, quill 1sp
Wizard 2 XP 5,201 / 3210 8 8 10 or 16-18 0/d6-1 +8 sp: 104
T: Nobles' money pouch, with silver.
Travelling Spell Book: – also Read Magic
Spells Known & Memorised
0th level spells (4): Detect Magic, Endure Elements, Detect Poison, Light
1st level spells (4): Comprehend Languages, Magic Missilex2, Shield
Max spell known: 11
From wizard's keep record-keeper via Sgt Saren: a substantial stack of good
quality scroll parchment, quills and ink bottles.
2 Tharbrian riding horses
 |
| Arnora Fairhair of Croy |
Rank/Position/Concept: Skjaldmeyjar, Skandik Royal Guard [Shield Maiden, Valkyrie]
Sex: Female
Species: Human
Homeland: Croy, city of the Skandik Norse
Age: 20 in 4333
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 160
Colour of - Hair: Pale, Honey Blonde - Eyes: Cerulean Blue - Skin: Pale, Alabaster
Appearance: Exotic, in a very tall and imposing sort of way. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Or she'll have your head.
Clothing: (See picture in album) Armor crisscrossing shapely, hard contours. Add a wolfskin cloak.
Demeanour: Proud, Reserved
Motivations: Commissioned by King Melrik to accompany and protect the neice of Olaf Raven-Eye, the young sorceress Iris Van Kennis,
in her search for a staff of power.
Background: Born the only daughter of Eirik, Jarl of the Ylfing clan, Arnora Fairhair and her two elder brothers spent their
younger years growing up in the court of King Melrik. A fast friendship was established early on with Olaf Raven-Eye's neice,
Iris, with whom much mischief was had in the castle. Though their learning paths diverged when they came of age, Iris growing
in sorcery, Arnora in the ways of the warrior, the friendship remained steadfast. Her skill with the sword as much as her standing
with the Ylfing clan, earned her an appointment with the Skandik Royal Guard- a rare Skjaldmeyjar, Shield Maiden. The Valkyrie was
the perfect choice to accompany Iris in her travels, a loyal and devoted companion to guard the vulnerable young Sorceress.
Contacts: Iris Van Kennis, Olaf Raven-Eye, King Melrik, Jarl Eirik, & brothers
Class: Fighter Level: 2
Str 16 (+2)/ +10
Dex 13 (+1)/ +9
Con 14 (+1)/ +9
Int 12 / +2
Wis 10 / +2
Cha 9 / +2
Prime Characteristics: Strength, Constitution, Dexterity
Background, Race & Profession: Shield Maiden, Human Fighter
HP 17
AC 16
Level 2: HD D10 BTH +2
Armour: Scale Mail 50GP (+4), Large Steel Shield 20GP (+1 vs 3)
Weapons: Specialization (+1 hit, +1 damage) Bastard Sword 25 GP, Dagger 2GP (1d4)
Fighter 2 4,001 / 3718 17 17 16/15 +5/d8+3 +2 sp: 0
Wotan statuette cw 10/10 - heals at a touch, hangs on leather thong between her breasts, grows warm at Wotan's guidance.
"It's old magic. Wild Wotan-magic. Skandik magic, of the sea and the storm." - Jana the Tharbrian, 4333
"It's old magic. Wild Wotan-magic. Skandik magic, of the sea and the storm." - Jana the Tharbrian, 4333
Equipment: Bedroll 1sp, Blanket 5sp, Lantern 12GP, Lantern Hood 7GP, Rope 1GP, Whetstone 1GP, Armor/Weapon Oil 1GP,
Bandages (20 @ 10sp), Backpack 2GP
Walrus-ivory Wotan statuette concealed on thong around neck.
GM: The ivory Statue of Odin can heal up to 10 hit points per day, which can be
divided between multiple recipients. It just needs to be touched to the wound(s).
It can only be used by a Lawful and loyal follower of Odin - that would be Arnora, probably Iris, and possibly Garth, but in their hands it can heal
anyone. I call it the "Cleric on a Stick" (TM) ;)
2 Tharbrian riding horses
_The Herb-Garden of the King of Croy_ (21/3/4333 BCCC)
In the cool of the evening, the King of Croy walks with the youngest
his Huscarls, Arnora Fairhair. The pleasant garden within the king's
palace is sheltered from the sea winds, the air rich with the scents of
mint, rosemary, sage and thyme. Melrik the Wise pauses to pluck a sprig
of fresh thyme, enjoying the scent. The Skandik monarch turns to
Arnora, his blue eyes twinkling in the gloam of twilight. He strokes
his full beard a moment, before speaking.
"Tomorrow, Arnora, you leave with Iris for the City State. It is a
dangerous place - some say the most dangerous in all the world. Many
warriors more experienced than yourself have met their end in its
filthy alleys, and more in its marbled palaces... are you ready for
your task?"
Arnora:
"I remember you asked me that once before, Sire" Arnora's fair cheeks
were flushed, perhaps from the cool air, perhaps at the prospect of
serving her Liege. As they strolled, she purposefully maintained a
half pace back on his left, her fingers hooked casually at the root
of her spine. "You asked if I was ready for the task, when you took
my allegience, and gave me this sword." She smiled faintly,
remembering her arrogance. This time, she said only: "In all that I
may do, wherever fate leads, be it in life, or a glorious death, may
it bring honor to Croy, and to her King. May I serve well. If I die,
I will join the others, in Valhöll."
In her father's Great Hall, to the low beat of drums, the skalds
would recite the heroic sagas of her ancestors, whose blood coursed
through her own veins. She inhaled deeply, slowly, as the gloaming
overtook the garden, letting the fragrant scents of herb and flower
fill her senses, appealing to all that was deeply feminine within her.
"My Lord King, is there anyone I should watch for on the road?"
Melrik smiles at Arnora's words.
"Well said, Arnora."
Melrik looks up, to where the first stars of evening are appearing in
the eastern sky.
"Dangers beyond counting may present themselves... Croy has many
enemies, and the task Olaf has set Iris will not be easy. I hear
your brother has been seen in the area of the City State, working as
a common sell-sword..."
Melrik pauses at the thought of the exiled kinslayer. Farouk had
been a promising huscarl.
"...Should your paths cross, do not allow the bonds of kinship to
distract you from your task. Now, there is something I wish you to
have."
Melrik reaches into a pocket of his robe, produces a tiny statue of
walrus ivory. A figure of a warrior, fierce and stern. One-eyed. A
figure of Wotan. He passes it to Arnora.
"In a time of need, go to the Temple of Odin in the city. Show them
this, and they will aid you. Do not do this lightly."
Arnora:
"Thank you Majesty.. a generous gift.." Arnora takes the ivory
statuette of Wotan into her hand, her cerulean eyes examining it
thoughtfully.
News of Farouk took her by surprise. Hesitating.. "Wise King.." She
evaded his eyes, "If it was your kinsman cast out in disgrace from
clan and kingdom, if he was your blood, how would you react to him
should the fates cross your paths?"
Taking a thin strip of braided hide, the shield maiden tied and
knotted it securely around the statuette, and suspended the tiny
figure around her neck.
King Melrik watches Arnora thoughtfully.
"Were that kinsman my brother, who had slain my cousin... I truly do
not know. I would be wary of the Outlaw, no doubt. Yet my heart would
be glad to behold him again..."
***
Dawn breaks bright and clear across the Winedark sea.
At the Port of Croy's bustling docks, the merchant ship Good Hope is
readying to depart, bound for the Estuary of the Roglaroon and the
lands of the Invincible Overlord. A cargo of finely crafted wooden
goods is being loaded aboard, while Shipmaster Tudrun oversees a small
crate of Croy pearls. The ship will return to Croy with slaves bought
from the Overlord's markets, Dearthwood timbers, and perhaps silk from
far Viridistan.
On the docks, a small party has assembled to see the apprentice wizard
Iris Van Kennis and her bodyguard Arnora depart.
Iris' uncle the ancient whitebeard Olaf Raven-Eye, Wizard of Croy, is there,
leaning heavily on a staff - not his famed Staff of Power though, for
that now lies somewhere in the City State...
Olaf nods to Iris, his young apprentice now facing the greatest test of
her life. If she can return with the Staff of Power she will one day
succeed Olaf as Wizard of Croy. If not... best not to dwell upon that.
"The Keeper of the Staff is an old friend of mine, Iris. To help you
on your way to find him, I have a small clue."
Olaf reaches into his robe and produces a tiny swatch of azure silk,
handing it to Iris.
"Match the silk, find the Keeper. Of course that is but the first part
of your quest..."
Iris:
"Yes, Uncle."
? She said, swallowing the lump of emotion in her throat, as she took the cloth and tucked it safely into an inside pocket of her cape.
?Thank you old man. ? she said as her warm young hands gripped his aged and knarled ones. There was so much she wanted to say, needed to say, but she had no words to tell him how much she loved him or how grateful she was that he had taken her inn when she had no where else to go, had loved her, and taught her. She knew there was a possibility she might never see him again, but she refused to allow herself to dwell on that, instead, she smiled squeezed his hands one more time, and said,
"?I?ll expect that book when I return.?"
Olaf Raven-Eye smiles a little wistfully at his young apprentice,
perhaps fearing he'll not see her again.
"And you'll have earned it, young one."
Her jade cape flapped in the wind, as she turned to look upon her friend and traveling companion Arnora the Fairhair. She hadn?t seen much of the her since they were girls. The woman who stood next to her now was fearsome in her stance and beautiful in her form ? Iris felt better knowing she would be along.
"?Are you ready my friend?"? she asked, indicating the barge which seemed to be fully loaded and waiting for them.
Arnora:
The second time in as many days, someone had asked if she was ready.. Arnora took a few moments to ponder the significance of that. "I will serve you to the best of my ability, my friend." Arnora said gravely, abbreviating her thoughts, as her mind drifted to her conversation with King Melrik the previous evening. Salt air and the smell of surf filled her nostrils, and there was a keen light in the shield maiden's cerulean eyes. She took a knee at the shore, and dug a fistful of her native soil, which she carefully filtered into a small rabbit-skin pouch and tucked away into her cloak. She smiled faintly. "Aye, now I am ready."
The young Huscarl towered over the petite Iris- that at least had not changed from childhood. By the lusty stares of the shipmates surveying Iris' porcelain figure, that had not changed either. Her delicate beauty drew men like a lodestone. "Come," Arnora navigated the gangplank and assisted Iris carefully to the deck. "I would like to have a word with the shipmaster."
Shipmaster Tudrun welcomes the two young women about the Good Hope.
"Tis an honour to be transporting such well-born folk as yourselves,
my ladies. We've a six-day voyage to the Port of Bier on the
Roglaroon."
His gaze lingers a moment on Iris' nubile form. He looks across the
western sea, glimmering in the morning sunlight.
"There's a good breeze, should be good weather for the journey."
Iris:
If Iris notices the frank admiration inthe Shipmaster's gaze, she doesn't acknowledge it. "A gift from Wotan, no doubt" she says of teh weather, as she takes a place along the railing of the ship, to watch as her home slowly becomes smaller and smaller, until it is just a speck on the horizen.
When she can see Croy no more, she excuses herself to her cabin to study her spellbook and rest.
Arnora:
"You have anticipated my question," Arnora inclined her head, with a
faint smile. "May the winds and tides carry us swiftly and safely to
our destination. Thank you for the passage, Tudrun- She is a fine
ship. I see you have a valuable cargo this voyage." Hopefully that
would not be generally known, Arnora thought.
The shield maiden touched Iris' arm as her friend turned to depart
for her cabin. "It is good to see you again Iris.. I look forward to
our travels together. After I see if there is any service I may be
able to render during the voyage, I will look in on you to see if
you're settled.. We have much to catch up on, and I am curious to
know more about your task." She watched her disappear through the
aft hatch before returning to Tudrun.
"Your able crew knows these seas, and I would never wish to be
underfoot." The wind whipped her fair hair about the young Valkyrie's
proud features, her cerulean eyes matching the bright hues of the
northern waters. Arnora was at ease on the sea, as were most of her
people. "I make myself available during this short journey, if there
is any way I can assist."
The Good Hope casts off from the quayside, Olaf Raven-Eye raises his
hand in farewell, watching until the ship is out of sight, then turns
and slowly walks back up the steep little road to King Melrik's
castle.
> If Iris notices the frank admiration inthe Shipmaster's gaze, she
> doesn't acknowledge it. "A gift from Wotan, no doubt" she says of
> teh weather, as sh etakes a place along teh railing of teh shi, to
> watch as her home slowly becomes smaller and smaller, until it is
> just a speck on the horizen.
> Arnora:
>
> "You have anticipated my question," Arnora inclined her head, with
a
> faint smile. "May the winds and tides carry us swiftly and safely
to
> our destination. Thank you for the passage, Tudrun- She is a fine
> ship. I see you have a valuable cargo this voyage." Hopefully that
> would not be generally known, Arnora thought.
Tudrun grins:
"Aye, and fifteen stout hearts to defend it! All my men are skilled
with sword or bow, milady. But we're a fast ship, can outrun most of
them damn pirates and Brezal-men."
> The shield maiden touched Iris' arm as her friend turned to depart
> for her cabin. "It is good to see you again Iris.. I look forward
to
> our travels together. After I see if there is any service I may be
> able to render during the voyage, I will look in on you to see if
> you're settled.. We have much to catch up on, and I am curious to
> know more about your task." She watched her disappear through the
> aft hatch before returning to Tudrun.
>
> "Your able crew knows these seas, and I would never wish to be
> underfoot." The wind whipped her fair hair about the young
Valkyrie's
> proud features, her cerulean eyes matching the bright hues of the
> northern waters. Arnora was at ease on the sea, as were most of
her
> people. "I make myself available during this short journey, if
there
> is any way I can assist."
Tudrun nods:
"Thank you milady. We're well manned. Of course, if there's trouble
I'll have need of your sword arm."
302Re: (Croy) morning - The Good Hope - The Voyage
SimonFeb 15, 2007
The Good Hope sails west around Croy's rugged coast, then south-west
across the Wine-Dark sea east of the Warwik peninsula. A line of
small rugged islands can be seen off to the east, south of Croy - the
isles Empyreal Dawn, Ringlet, Slumber, Shadow Dragon and others, all
with their own mysteries and dangers, best avoided by sensible folk.
It seems that Wotan truly does favour the Good Hope, for no pirates,
storms or sea monsters interrupt her progress as she crosses the
Mouth and enters the Estuary of Roglaroon, a broad tidal river.
Passing the bustling river-city Modron, the ship heads up the
Estuary, the dark expanse of the Dearthwood dominating her western
shore. Many other ships ply this busy thoroughfare, and the
Overlord's patrol boats are everywhere, guarding against the river-
pirates. Tudrun waves to and greets several familiar patrol
captains, for the Croy merchant is well known and liked in these
parts.
On the morning of the sixth day out from Croy, the ship docks at the
Port of Bier, at a muddy jetty on the north bank of the Roglaroon. A
cluster of wharves and jetties crowd each bank, many holding merchant
ships being loaded or unloaded. A cluster of jumbled untidy
warehouses, huts and inns lie close by the wharfs, thronged with
sailors, stevedores and prostitutes. There are Dunael Woodsfolk,
civilised Alryans, red-skinned Altanians, even a few check-trousered
Tharbrians and fellow Skandiks. Compared to the relative calm and
order of Croy it seems a wild, dirty and chaotic place.
Shipmaster Tudrun barks orders to his crew, as the ship is secured he
takes a moment to speak with Iris and Arnora:
"We'll be at Bier around a week - I'll needs meet with my go-
betweens, see if the cargo's ready. Bier's a little rough, but safer
than most places in these parts. The Old South Road runs north from
here to the City State - it's patrolled by the Overlord's
equithrongs, but can still be dangerous. About fifteen leagues -
fifteen hours' walk, two days for most folks."
He grins.
"As I recall there's a Dunael village with a good inn at the half-way
mark."
Iris:
"Thank you Shipmaster," Iris said, clasping his hand. "May Wotan smile upon you for your return, and bless your trade." she said.
Iris turned to her companion and friend with a smile of eager anticipation, after six days cooped upon teh ship, she was more than ready to stretch her legs and get on with their journey. She flexed her shoulders, the leather and chain of her harness creaking abit as she moved.
319Re: (Croy) morning - The Good Hope - The Voyage
SimonFeb 16, 2007
> "Thank you Shipmaster," Iris said, clasping his hand. "May Wotan
smile upon you for your return, and bless your trade." she said.
Tudrun smiles down at Iris with what looks like genuine warmth.
"And may Wotan bless you too, little one. May the wind be always at
your back."
The ship is secured and the sailors start bringing up the heavy
crates from the hold.
Tudrun:
"No docking fee here - sure beats the Overlord's wharfs..."
He shudders at the memory of the Invincible Overlord's customs agents.
Arnora FairhairFeb 16, 2007
Arnora also expressed her gratitude to the shipmaster Tudrun, and let
her eyes linger upon the Good Hope, then out to sea, then over the
weathered shanties at Bier.
"I will follow your lead, Iris, for you will need to decide how best to
accomplish your tasks.."
The fair shield maiden dropped a couple coppers into the hands of a
grungy child who looked (and smelled) as if he probably lived under a
pier on a bed of seaweed.
"Shall we see if we can make the Dunael Village by nightfall?" The
prospect of walking the Old South Road after dark wasn't a very
pleasing idea.
GM:
The Dunael man Martin Koski is taking a morning stroll by the wharfs
when he sees a new ship there being offloaded - the Good Hope! He
remembers his time serving aboard her, and her Captain, Tudrun. A
good stout-hearted man, canny too.
Two fair-haired Skandik maids are talking near by the gangplank, one a
petite and beautiful aristocrat (Iris), the other a tall and statuesque
shield-maiden (Arnora). The shield-maid is giving two coppers to that
young scallywag Matt Briarson.
(tag Martin - John you can introduce your new PC. Send me redone
character sheet when ready).
MerandaFeb 16, 2007
>>"Shall we see if we can make the Dunael Village by nightfall?" The
prospect of walking the Old South Road after dark wasn't a very
pleasing idea. <<
"Aye," she agreed, also thinking that walking the road at night was a foolish proposition, that they needed to make haste, but also wondering if she should perhaps make time to enquire of the tradesman here, if they know of anyone who wears silks the color of her sample.
"Come, lets have a cup of mead at one of the inns, then be on our way." she said, "I am loath to be caught on the road at night, but I am equally opposed to the idea of passing up what might be important information to be had from the tradesmen of this region."
Iris shulders her small burden, carried her quarterstaff in her left hand, leaving her right hand free, a dagger Her daggers are secured in her harness, within easy reach of her right hand. She leads the way to one of the larger, more prosperous looking Inns.
Martin:
"Ahoy, Captain Tudrun." Martin calls cheerily and offers a friendly
wave to the figure of the captain that has turned to the task at
hand of offloading the ship. It had been a year or two but the good
captain seemed in good heath and in high spirits.
As Martin came closer down the wharfs he let his eyes and warm smile
stray to the two women that had little Matty about their
ankles. "Matt Briarson you leave these fine young travelers alone.
Don't you know what Skandiks like to do to boys that stray too long on
the wharfs? Why you're lucky they don't press gang you into service
of good Captain Tudrun." He gave the ladies a wink as the color
drained from the boys face.
"Ladies, Martin Koski at your service."
Arnora:
"From what I have seen, the boy could learn a lot working aboard the
Good Hope. Probably do the lad good, make him fine and strong."
Arnora tested the boy's arm, and smiled at Martin.
"Matt Briarson is it. How do you plan to hold a sword someday if your
arm is the size of a leather boot-lace?"
"This is the Lady Iris Van Kennis, neice of the Wizard of Croy. I am
Arnora." (Wise King Melrik taught her humility.) "We are just on our
way to find an Inn. Iris has a few questions to ask of the local
tradesmen, and then we will try and find the Dunael Village on the
Old South Road, before sunset, if we can."
355Re: (Port of Bier) morning - The Good Hope
SimonFeb 16, 2007
> "Ahoy, Captain Tudrun." Martin calls cheerily and offers a
friendly
> wave to the figure of the captain that has turned to the task at
> hand of offloading the ship. It had been a year or two but the
good
> captain seamed in good heath and in high spirits.
Tudrun looks a bit surprised, but smiles and nods back as Martin
walks up.
"Ahoy there Mart. Come back to re-enlist, eh? Got your sea legs
back?"
He grins, for Martin Koski was always more at home in a forest than
aboard ship.
> "Matt Briarson is it. How do you plan to hold a sword someday if your
> arm is the size of a leather boot-lace?"
The boy Briarson grimaces and tugs, completely ineffectual in Arnora's
firm grip. He sighs and relents.
> "This is the Lady Iris Van Kennis, neice of the Wizard of Croy. I am
> Arnora." (Wise King Melrik taught her humility.) "We are just on our
> way to find an Inn. Iris has a few questions to ask of the local
> tradesmen, and then we will try and find the Dunael Village on the
> Old South Road, before sunset, if we can."
GM: Martin knows the village well, variously called Midway, Midtown or
Midpoint, it's a stockaded way-post that lies on the Old South Road
half way between Bier and the City State, making it an ideal stopping
point on the journey. It's about 22 miles from Bier, 7-8 hour's walk.
There's an Overlord's equithrong garrison post there, making it
relatively safe.
Martin?s brown eyes widen at the mention of Lady Iris? nobility. ?It is my honor to meet you both.? To Iris, ?It is wise to bring a shield maiden to these lands. Arnora looks every bit the capable warrior and beautiful as well,? a smile to the warrior. ?However, there is always safety in numbers. I?d be pleased to have the honor to escort both of you to where you wish, if you will have me.? He paused to check the height of the sun and assess the time needed to reach the Dunael Village .
Tags..Iris, Arnora, GM
GM: It's late morning, about 10.30. Iris is on the short side so
reckon 8 hours walk plus an hour of rest breaks to make Midtown, you
can be there about 7.30 pm, about an hour after sunset (6.30 pm). If
you leave right now and push it you just might be there by sunset, but
Iris looks like she might struggle with such a pace.
There is a smaller village on the road some 15 miles away where it
crosses a small river, you could be there within 6 hours, ca 4.30pm.
Martin:
He looks back to the ladies, "Unfortunately, Midtown is abut 22
miles, a 7 to 8 hour walk from here, so time is short if you still
have business here. We would not wish to be caught at night without
reaching Overlord's equithrong garrison post. Though we could make
smaller village on the road some 15 miles away, so we won't have to
race the sun. Then a short walk the next day for Midtown." A
pause, "You have questions for tradesmen you say?" Martin looks
quizzical, "Lets see what we can do with that first."
Wishing the Captain goodbye Martin courteously leads the ladies off
the docks to finds local tradesmen.
ooc: Martin will also ask around to see if there is a caravan.
GM: Moving on...
Asking around, there aren't any caravans leaving today. The group
visits one of the more salubrious local inns, and over a goblet of
mead Iris enquires about the provenance of the piece of blue cloth.
Various unlikely suggestions are proferred, mostly involving brothels
and boudoirs, but nothing that sounds very likely.
<OId Arnora>
"From what I have seen, the boy could learn a lot working aboard the
Good Hope. Probably do the lad good, make him fine and strong."
Arnora tested the boy's arm, and smiled at Martin.
"Matt Briarson is it. How do you plan to hold a sword someday if your
arm is the size of a leather boot-lace?"
<New Iris>
Iris listened to the exchange with a smile for her friend, so tender in the inside, yet so fierce on the outside. She reached over and riffled the boys hair, "Tell her powerful wizards don;t need arms of steel." she teased winking at the young man.
<old Arnora>
>>"This is the Lady Iris Van Kennis, neice of the Wizard of Croy. I am
Arnora." (Wise King Melrik taught her humility.) "We are just on our
way to find an Inn . Iris has a few questions to ask of the local
tradesmen, and then we will try and find the Dunael Village on the
Old South Road , before sunset, if we can."
Old Martin_
Martin?s brown eyes widen at the mention of Lady Iris? nobility. ?It is my honor to meet you both.? To Iris, ?It is wise to bring a shield maiden to these lands. Arnora looks every bit the capable warrior and beautiful as well,? a smile to the warrior. ?However, there is always safety in numbers. I?d be pleased to have the honor to escort both of you to where you wish, if you will have me.? He paused to check the height of the sun and assess the time needed to reach the Dunael Village .<<
New Iris
"That is very kind of you Martin," she extends her hand to the handsome young man, noting his kind, warm brown eyes that seem to smile slightly befor ehis mouth twitches. "While we could certainly use the company, I fear I can not pay you, and do not wish to take advantage of your generous nature. It could be very dangerous."
New-
Martin smiled mischievously, "I seek no coin m'lady. Though I am a bit of a rogue, I seek to only to steel attention for myself among my own towns folk." He winks to the boy. "Your company will draw attention to 'Martin the great Ranger of Dearthwood, protector of beautiful maidens ."
Arnora:
Arnora laughed, "How can any maiden refuse such gracious and undying
flattery? I certainly cannot. It is truly a pleasure to meet you, I
am both honored and grateful for your company."
Looking down at the boy, whose arm she still held completely
encircled in a single hand, "What do we do about you, young
rapscallion?"
She misliked turning him loose to face the world alone, but there
again she could hardly adopt every stray child in every township
either.
"Here young one," She gives another coin, wishes him good fortune,
and attends her companions.
Apparently Martin was unable to locate any caravans today, and Iris
came up with nothing solid with regards to her quest.
"Come then, shall we? Let us make good time upon the road if we
can.."
<New Iris>
"Oh my Arnora," Did you realize we were in the company of Martin the Great Ranger? Protector of beautiful maidens?" Iris said in mock seriousness. "well Sir, in that case, we would be honored to have you escort us."
>>Asking around, there aren't any caravans leaving today. The group
visits one of the more salubrious local inns, and over a goblet of
mead Iris enquires about the provenance of the piece of blue cloth.
Various unlikely suggestions are proferred, mostly involving brothels
and boudoirs, but nothing that sounds very likely.
<<
"Well, we may as well head out and make the village by nightfall anyway. Please Martin, lead the way."
370Re: (Dearthwood) noon - Iris/Arnora/Martin
SimonFeb 17, 2007
Iris:
> "Well, we may as well head out and make the village by nightfall
anyway. Please Martin, lead the way."
The group purchase a light snack from the Inn and then head out along
the cobbled Old South Road, soon leaving the port of Bier behind.
They pass swiftly through the outlying fields, and as the noon sun
reaches its mid-point above them, they enter the depths of the
Dearthwood.
There are signs of much lumbering to either side of the roadway, but
the trees of Dearthwood grow with unusual speed, and young pines,
alder and ash are already growing rapidly amongst the stumps of their
fallen ancestors.
It's a sunny day, a slight breeze ruffles the treetops. The great
forest is dark and deep, and there are no other travellers in sight.
Fifteen miles to the next village - a five hour walk, easy enough to
make before sunset.
If all goes well...
______________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________
387Re: (Dearthwood) Parties Meet!
Expand Messages
SimonFeb 17, 2007
Iris, Arnora, Martin:
The three have been travelling north from Bier through the wood some
four hours, with occasional rest breaks for Iris, for the lady wizard
is unused to such exertions and her bedroll and pack is more load than
she's used to. Arnora, carrying full war harness as well as bedroll
and pack, helps her when necessary.
They have covered some eight miles, when Martin spots an ox-drawn
wagon standing on the road ahead through the trees, and human figures
nearby - it looks like half a dozen or so naked young women, and a
couple of male warriors - slavers? The women aren't chained or bound,
though. One of the male warriors looks wounded, he's lying in the
(open) cage, a dark-haired shapely young woman is mopping his brow.
The other, a small man, is chatting with a pretty, big-breasted blonde
girl, her arm around his waist.
Most of the other girls are sitting or standing around, talking and
stretching. They haven't spotted the three travellers yet.
tag: Iris, Arnora, Martin. If they openly approach Greenie, Saethr
Garth and co, you can all roleplay intros between the six PCs.
__________________________________________________________
(Deathwood) The Old South Road - Farouk, Greenie
SimonFeb 13, 2007
Guards to a Slave caravan is not the most prestigious of assignments,
but a man must eat, and Farouk has done worse in his time. For
Greenie, a job escorting Ragolet's slaves to the port of Bier gets him
away from the City State for a few days, a chance for those Tharbrian
pilgrims he stole from to leave town, or get themselves killed.
Assigned to guarding the rear of the caravan as it moves along the
ancient cobbles of the Old South Road through the Dearthwood to Bier,
it seems bad luck that Farouk's horse has lamed. While he stops and
dismounts to remove a stone from the stallion's hoof, Greenie hangs
back nearby - never leave a man alone in the wood it's said, or you'll
not see him again...
The caravan has moved on some distance ahead, out of sight through the
trees. Then Farouk finishes removing the stone and his stallion
gingerly tests its hoof again, the sounds of battle come drifting
through the forest - the caravan is under attack!
*****
The redhead amazon Saethyr lies in the iron cage, feeling every bump
as the slave wagon moves slowly south along the Old South Road, bound
for the Port of Bier and the slave market. She's naked, blindfolded,
and heavily chained, wrists behind her back, for Ragolet has warned
his men to take no chances with the assassin.
The fresh slave brand seared on her thigh marks her as a pit fighter,
dangerous. Perhaps she'll be sold to some merchant seeking exotic
gladiators, perhaps worse.
Six other bound slavegirls lie pressed against her in the cage, naked
flesh against flesh. Better than walking like the dozen male slaves
in the coffle behind, perhaps. The other slaves are bound too, but
more lightly, and not blindfolded, Saethyr can tell.
Suddenly Saethyr hears a scream - a death scream! The sound of
arrows scything the air. Someone yells:
"Ambush! - *urghh*!" - and dies, too.
Then the battle-cries, fierce, inhuman - orcs! A slavegirl screams,
the clash of swords. In seconds a fierce battle is raging around
her...
***
The slave caravan proceeds down the Old South Road towards Bier.
A wagon holding a cage of seven slave-girls pulled by two oxen
precedes a coffle of seven chained male slaves. Asturik the caravan-
master rides at the front of the procession, while Garth and five
other guards on foot flank the coffle. The two men on rearguard have
fallen out of sight behind the caravan, one of them attending to his
lamed horse.
Suddenly from the treeline, arrows scythe the air!
The wagon-drover topples with an arrow in his throat.
Asturik yells:
"Ambush! - *urghh*!" - and dies, too, two arrows in his chest. He
falls from the saddle and his horse bolts, dragging his corpse leg
tangled in a stirrup.
More arrows are falling amongst the slavers - two of the guards go
down, the three remaining draw swords, looking around wildly.
Then the battle-cries, fierce, inhuman - orcs! A dozen orc warriors
burst from the trees, axes and swords raised to strike.
A blonde big-breasted slavegirl in the wagon screams, blue eyes wide
with terror. The male slaves cringe, equally terrified of the
nightmarish monsters.
> Garth clutches his shield tight to his chest, and grips his sword
> tighly. He remembers what Uncle Lars told him - keep your head
behind
> your shield, and watch for the enemy. Whilst not being the
sharpest
> arrow in the quiver, Garth knows not to run out there and get cut
down
> by arrows. He's willing to wait til someone crosses his path
before
> trading blows.
>
> "Why in Odin's name did I tell that guy who hired me that I'd
killed so
> many men..."
The orcs charge into the remaining guards. Garth sees the man beside
him cut down an orc, then parry the sword-strike of another.
A huge orc in spiked bandmail comes charging towards Garth, wielding
a great two handed falchion. Garth lunges, his sword piercing the
banded armour of the orc's shoulder. It grunts, swinging a mighty
blow into Garth's left flank, hacking into his shield, through his
scaled armour and into flesh (7 dmg). Two more orcs come running up,
striking at Garth from the flanks. He parries one, and takes a light
wound to his thigh (2 dmg, 2 hp left).
Outnumbered three to one, Garth falls back. He aims at the orc
leader's head, luck or skill brings the blade in a perfect arc into
the armoured orc's muscular neck, almost severing its head ("20" - 18
dmg!) - the orc falls. The other two are raining blows at him, but
he parries one with shield, armour turns another.
Around him the battle is raging. Another orc falls to a slaver's
sword, but then the three remaining guards are swiftly hacked down,
leaving only Garth still standing against nine orc warriors.
Then there's the sound of hoofbeats, and through the trees comes a
rider, crossbow ready...
Farouk:
Swiftly mounting, Farouk rides towards the sounds of battle. The
unequal contest is already ending as he comes into sight, for only
one of the slaver guards is still up, facing off against two orcs.
Seven more orcs hack at the bodies of fallen guards, and look up as
Farouk approaches...
(tag Garth, Farouk)
***
Greenie:
> The lad hears the commotion, and swears under his breath. Quietly
he says to Farouk, "I'll try to creep around through the trees....you
get there fast and be a strong arm. I'm better if I'm hidden..." At
this he slipped quietly into the underbrush, and began sneaking his way
toward the caravan, hoping to come in behind one or more of the
ambushers. At least outside town he didn't have to hide his gear so
much. Made it much easier to access his sword and daggers in a hurry.
Greenie ducks into the trees while Farouk mounts up. Sneaking unseen
through the undergrowth, he sees the battle raging on the road ahead.
One of the guards, Garth, cuts down a huge orc in spiked bandmail, but
the other guards are falling before orc axe and sword-blows. A moment
later only Garth is left, facing off against nine orc warriors. To his
left Greenie sees Farouk approaching the battle on horseback.
(tag)
GM: Farouk fires at an orc, misses. Five of the orcs start towards
him as he reloads.
Sneaking through the trees, Greenie comes up behind an orc busy
slitting the throat of a fallen guard. He slides his shortsword up
into the orc's ribcage, piercing its heart. The corpse falls. A
second orc nearby finishes off another fallen slaver and turns,
snarling. It advances towards Greenie swinging a vicious ball-and-
chain (light flail).
Garth is facing two orcs. As they close on him again he lunges, the
orc twists aside and slams its axe at his head. The blow deflects
off his helm as the second orc slashes its sword at his legs. He
skips back and the blow misses.
Farouk gets another shot off at the mass of orcs charging him,
striking an orc in the left shoulder. It grunts but keeps coming.
The five orcs reach Farouk before he can unlimber his shield, hacking
at him with axes and swords. His horse is struck, and he reels from
multiple blows, struck three times (9 dmg, 2 hp left).
From where she lies in the slave wagon, Saethyr hears the battle
continuing. One of the slave girls with her says:
"The orcs are winning! There's only three guards left."
> Garth decides if he's going out, he's going out swinging.
>
> Taking advantage of the cowardly crossbowmans attempt to distract the
> greenskins, Garth attempts to carve the biggest Orc in front of him.
>
> Garth shouts at the top of his lungs, in Common so that the damn Orcs
> can understand "LAY DOWN A VOLLEY OF CROSSBOWFIRE AND THEN KILL
THEM!!!"
> to the hordes of reinforcements who were just waiting in the trees
for
> the ambush to be sprung...
GM: The two orcs attacking Garth seem unimpressed, but at least the
crossbowman has drawn off the bulk of them, and that little sneak
Greenie has just appeared from the trees and felled another.
Current situation:
Garth (2hp) vs 2 orcs
Greenie (6hp) vs 1 orc
Farouk (2hp) vs 5 orcs, 1 wounded
305Re: (Dearthwood) The Old South Road - Farouk, Greenie, Garth, Saethyr
SimonFeb 15, 2007
> Greenie will hurl a dagger at the orc, if he has time. If not he
will just have to do his best with his sword when the orc gets to him.
OOC: You can do this, and with your high DEX it's quite an effective
tactic. Your weapon stats are:
Weapon: Shortsword ATT +0/d6
Thrown dagger ATT +2/d4
Two handed combat: Sword ATT-1/d6, Dagger ATT -4/d4 (ATT -2 thrown)
GM: Greenie throws a dagger left-handed at the oncoming orc, striking
it in its barrel chest. It just looks angrier, though. As it raises
the flail Greenie strikes desperately with his shortsword, and somewhat
to his own surprise launches a perfect thrust to the orc's throat. It
gurgles and falls dying, choking on its own blood ("20" - 11 damage!).
Looking around, Greenie sees no more orcs threatening him, but both his
companions are hard-pressed. The two attacking Garth are closest, and
unaware of him - another chance to backstab?
Saethyr MoonfireFeb 15, 2007
OLD:
> From where she lies in the slave wagon, Saethyr hears the battle
>continuing. One of the slave girls with her says:
>
>"The orcs are winning! There's only three guards left."
Saethyr (new):
"How many of the orcs," Saethyr asks, cursing the chains the bind her
and not being able to see the battle herself in order to determine
the chances of escaping the orcs should they win the day.
"Eight - no, seven! The little man just killed another one, that's two
he's killed. Um, I could remove your blindfold? The slavemaster's
dead, he'll not care..."
Saethyr (new):
Nodding her head, "Yes please remove it. I need to see what is
happening." Was Saethyr's reply.
Three guards and seven orcs, the outcome did not sound good, thought
Saethyr. The thought of falling into the hands of orcs did not sit
well for her. If only she was free of the damnable chains and had her blades.
> Garth catches the Orc behind the two he is currently facing, blanche
> plae green as the little mans shortsword chops out its thoat.
> Attempting to gain him a little time Garth launches another attack on
> the Orcs facing him, attempting to feint one and hit the other.
>
> Roaring insensibly to keep the Orcs attention on him, Garth prays to
> Odin to make his sword bite deep!
Garth feints left, strikes right, and has the satisfaction of gutting
the unwary orc, its entrails splashing out onto the cobbles of the Old
South Road. As it falls dying, the last orc facing Garth quails,
falling back from the near-berserk Skandik. It turns and flees past
the surprised Greenie, heading into the trees.
Lying in the bottom of the wagon-cage, Saethyr feels hands tugging on
the blindfold and it's tugged free by a freckle-faced slavegirl with
short blonde hair, kneeling over her. Nearby Saethyr hears an orc's
death scream, the battle still raging nearby. Six orcs left...
Saethyr (new):
Saethyr smiles her thanks to the slavegirl.
"Any chance we can get these damn chains off?" Saethyr said dryly,
winking at the girl. "I'm Saethyr Moonfire. Listen, we need to figure
out what to do if the orcs win the day. I personally don't feel up to
falling into their hands anytime soon."
________________
> Farouk was amazed that the orcs covered FORTY feet so quickly, he
had
> thought he could abandon his reload and spur his hores away as they
came on,
> further drawing the orcs away from the other men as he had
INTENDED.
But
> the GODS were not with him that day.
>
> Making the best of a bad situation Farouk did his best and let his
knightly
> training take over, trying to slide to the side of the horse
effectively
> putting it between him and the attacking orcs. He didn't think he
could get
> far like this so he also sought to ready his sword.
GM: Farouk gets his falchion sword out and slashes at an orc as it
comes round his horse, misses (6+2 = 8).
The orcs are swarming around him, hacking at him with swords and axes
as they try to drag him down from his horse. He's hit three times,
including a blow to the back of his neck ("20") and takes 21 damage,
CON save DC 29, roll '1'. Farouk's severed head rolls across the
greensward.
The orcs turn to look at how the battle is going over at the caravan,
where Erics-son now stands over a small heap of orc corpses...
> Saethyr:
>
> Saethyr smiles her thanks to the slavegirl.
>
> "Any chance we can get these damn chains off?" Saethyr said dryly,
> winking at the girl.
The girl smiles apologetically, holding up her arms to show her own
chained wrists.
> "I'm Saethyr Moonfire. Listen, we need to figure
> out what to do if the orcs win the day. I personally don't feel up to
> falling into their hands anytime soon."
The girl nods:
"I'm Susanne..."
She looks over to the front of the wagon, through the press of huddled
nude girls.
"The driver's lying there dead. He's got the cage-key on his belt!
Maybe one of us could reach it through the bars..."
A redhead girl at the front nods and reaches through, snagging the keys
from the corpse slumped back against the cage, and starts to work them
loose.
Nearby there's a cry of triumph as the orcs fell another guardsman.
---
An orc has just fled past Greenie into the trees. Looking north the
two remaining guardsmen see the rest of the orcs take Farouk down from
his horse, decapitating the unfortunate cavalier. There are five orcs
left, and Garth is badly wounded. Perhaps they should flee? Greenie
would have little trouble evading the orcs, Garth would find it much
harder, should they abandon the slaves to pursue him.
Garth reckons that with odds of 5/2, he may as well release the slave
girls and at least they wont have to suffer the same fate as the rest
of the caravan. Swiftly rushing to the guard who he knew had the keys,
Garth uses the tip of his sword to flick the keys into the cage where
one of the girls can release the entire group. He then turns to face
the Orcs. Screaming obscenities regarding Orcs and their mothers,
Garth charges!!!
322Re: (Deathwood) The Old South Road - all
SimonFeb 16, 2007
--- In CandCWilderlands@yahoogroups.com, "rjiuk" <nomore.spam1@...>
wrote:
>
> OOC: Commiserations on the demise of Farouk - and apologies for
my
> remark regarding ducking back in. Twas a throwaway remark intended
to
> heighten the situation. I'm well aware of the two levels of Simons
GM-
> ship:- deadly and OMFG, having been a gamer/player with Simon
for....18
> years now LOL.
OOC: Oh, er, hi Bob. Didn't know it was you. :)
323Re: (Deathwood) The Old South Road - all
SimonFeb 16, 2007
OOC: BTW just a note that combat rounds in C&C are approx 12 seconds,
twice 3e.
> Garth reckons that with odds of 5/2, he may as well release the slave
> girls and at least they wont have to suffer the same fate as the rest
> of the caravan. Swiftly rushing to the guard who he knew had the
> keys...
GM:
Garth:
The keys are on the body of the wagon drover, slumped back against the
slave cage on the running-board at the front of the wagon. Garth runs
south over to the nearby wagon (away from the five remaining orcs, who
ran north to attack Farouk) and leaps onto the running board. One of
the slavegirls is trying to nab the keys to the cage. As Garth lands
on the board, the two oxen give a start and begin to plod, moving off
down the road south, away from the orcs! Garth lurches, nearly falling
off the board. He notices the whip still in the drovers' hand - if he
whips the oxen on, could he outrun the orcs, and maybe save the girls?
The redhead slavegirl passes Garth the key, he rips it from the dead
drover's belt. The cage door is on the far side of the wagon though,
to unlock it he'd have to stop the wagon, go round and open the door,
giving the orcs time to run up.
Saethr:
The lovely amazon's eyes widen in surprise as a muscular mail-clad
warrior leaps onto the wagon's running-deck - presumably one of the
caravan guards? Bleeding from two wounds, he goes for the cage-keys.
Greenie will go after the fleeing orc, in the idea that one is easier to deal with than five, and also that being farther away from the five is conducive to survival. If he can again manage to get surprise on one or more of them, then he'll take advantage of that. But from what he's seen he knows he stands little chance against five brawny orcs all together.
Greenie:
Greenie turns and chases the fleeing orc into the trees. He sees it
puffing along some distance ahead, its bandy apelike legs propelling it
with surprising speed. Greenie increases his gait, flitting through
the sun-dappled forest like a small and surprisingly pointy shadow...
Garth:
Garth sees Greenie disappear into the woods, chasing off after the
fleeing orc. That just leaves him and a bevy of beautiful naked slave
girls in a cage, up against five heavily armed orc warriors...
The seven male slaves are still cowering in their coffle, midway
between the south-moving wagon and the five orcs, who seem to have
finished hacking at Farouk and are turning to look Garth's way.
Garth:
Garth see's his last possible ally flee into the woods, and deciding
that the male slaves may delay the orcs long enough (snacktime for
Orcs has GOT to be at least 15 minutes...!) grabs the whip and spurs
the wagon team away at the fastest leisurely rate he can get out of
the animals. "Get those cuffs off and open that cage door - anyone
in there who knows the best way to fight Orc or get us the Hel outta
here?"
GM:
The whip cracks hard across the backs of the oxen. They moo and
start off down the road at a good pace. The redhead slavegirl passes
the key back into the cage, the big-breasted blonde at the rear of
the cage reaches up and starts to work the heavy lock.
The five remaining orcs start after the wagon, but it's heading off
rapidly into the distance and none have much desire to tangle with
the crazy Skandik who felled their leader. They turn to looting the
corpses and rounding up the male slaves before any of the Overlord's
patrols turn up.
The slave wagon bounces along at a good pace. The slave girls manage
to unlock cage door, it swings open, and they turn to unlocking their
manacles, it takes a few minutes, Saethyr's bonds are the heaviest
and she's the last freed. The slave girls are all but one fair-
skinned Tharbrians (Celts), Tharbrian girls famously make excellent
slaves. Five of the Tharbrians are teen-aged maidens, one looks
early '20s. The odd one is a flame-haired Amazon of somewhat
intimidating demeanour. The Tharbrian girls all regard Garth their
rescuer with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. Garth looks
over the delightful bevy of beauties the Fates have lumbered him
with...
OOC: Tharbrian Slave Girl database at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/CandCWilderlands/database?method=reportRows&tbl=6 !! :)
The wagon trundles quickly down the road, it's not very well sprung and
the cobbled road sends everyone bouncing, with interesting effects on
the ladies' upper anatomy. After a few minutes the oxen slow to their
habitual plod, and everyone catches a breath.
The pretty auburn-haired girl who helped Garth with the keys rubs her
now-unmanacled wrists and smiles shyly at him through the bars, they're
both about the same age.
"I'm Emma. We're all from Bendigroth - our village was attacked by
slavers..."
She pauses, and points to Saethr.
"Except her. I think she's an Amazon pit fighter."
SimonFeb 16, 2007
> Greenie:
> Greenie turns and chases the fleeing orc into the trees. He sees it
> puffing along some distance ahead, its bandy apelike legs propelling
it
> with surprising speed. Greenie increases his gait, flitting through
> the sun-dappled forest like a small and surprisingly pointy shadow...
Greenie chases the orc several minutes, always staying in cover, until
the exhausted creature stops and bends over, puking green vomit onto
the forest floor. It's still bent over as Greenie comes up behind it
and drives his shortsword into its ribcage, through its heart. It dies
quietly, and Greenie looks reflectively down at the corpse.
Silence descends. He's alone in the forest. If he's right, he's been
running east, and the South Road is somewhere south of his location,
running south-east towards Bier. Which is... that way?
OOC: Greenie & Garth get total 600 XP each for that battle. :)
SimonFeb 16, 2007
OOC: I was a bit sceptical of Greenie as a PC, but he killed more orcs
than anybody else in that battle! :)
Greenie: killed 3 orcs - 2 backstabbed, 1 straight up
Garth: killed 2 orcs, including the pack leader.
Farouk: wounded 1 orc, RIP
SimonFeb 16, 2007
> He will rifle the body for anything useful, valuable, and / or
informative. He will clean off his sword, and try to figure out how to
get back to the ambush site. He briefly considers a loud whistle or
call, but doesn't want to attract more orcs to himself.<
The orc was carrying a heavy cutlass-type sword (d8 damage) and wearing
filthy ringmail, now with extra ventilation. It has a quiver of 11
shortbow arrows, but no bow (they dropped their bows when they charged
in to melee). It also has three copper pieces, a rusty knife, and a
small piece of hard cheese.
Greenie reckons he must be over half a mile from the ambush now, out of
calling range. The wagon was heading south-east along the road, so if
he heads south too he might intercept it... maybe.
Then Greenie notices movement, some distance off through the trees.
It's a grey horse - Asturik the caravan master's horse! It must have
fled early in the battle. No sign of Asturik, he's probably lying dead
somewhere.
>"I'm Emma. We're all from Bendigroth - our village was attacked by
>slavers..."
>
>She pauses, and points to Saethr.
>
>"Except her. I think she's an Amazon pit fighter."
Saethyr (new):
Saethyr's spine stiffened. "I am an Amazon warrior. I am not a pit
fighter or slave," She stated firmly.
Garth reins in the animals, and draws them to a halt. "All you
ladies OK?" Garth, being only 17, puffs his chest out whilst trying
not wince too badly at his injuries. He quickly checks that all are
OK, before tending to himself.
"There's still one of us left back there, that Orc-hewer. We have to
go back. If you are an Amazon warrior, and I'm not saying you aren't,
can we take the last Orcs between us?"
Garth checks around the wagon in the unlikely possibility that there
are some spare weapons for the Amazon somewhere. In any event, Garth
now intends to try and get the girls back as far as he can to their
home villages, or at least back to a moderate area of civilisation.
SimonFeb 16, 2007
> Garth reins in the animals, and draws them to a halt.
GM: The slave girls take the opportunity to get out of the cage and
stretch their limbs.
> "All you
> ladies OK?" Garth, being only 17, puffs his chest out whilst
trying
> not wince too badly at his injuries.
The girls nod.
"Thank you for saving us..." says the big-breasted blonde, with a
doe-eyed look. "...I'm Carol. Who are you?"
The other girls introduce themselves too. Apparently
all but Saethr are from the same Tharbrian village on the Plateau of
Bendigroth, which lies quite some distance away to the northwest,
beyond the Majestic Mountains. Apparently the slavers came to their
village one day when most of the men were away, and carried them
off. They were sold in the City State to Guildmaster Ragolet,
Garth's employer.
> He quickly checks that all are
> OK, before tending to himself.
Garth is becoming increasingly aware of the bloody gash to his right
side inflicted by the orc leader's falchion. Metal scales and
backing have been driven into his flesh, and it's quite a mess. Emma
looks on with concern as Garth inspects the extent of his injuries.
Emma moves closer.
"Let me help you wash and bind that... we need some water."
> "There's still one of us left back there, that Orc-hewer. We have
to
> go back. If you are an Amazon warrior, and Im not saying you
aren't,
> can we take the last Orcs between us?"
>
> Garth checks around the wagon in the unlikely possibility that
there
> are some spare weapons for the Amazon somewhere. In any event,
Garth
> now intends to try and get the girls back as far as he can to their
> home villages, or at least back to a moderate area of civilisation.
No Amazon weapons, but Garth finds a light crossbow under the running-
board, along with a quiver of 12 bolts, presumably belonging to the
deceased wagon-driver.
Saethyr (new):
"Why would I help you or the other guard fight off the orcs?
Especially since I'm bound for the pens. I'm unchained now, I could
always take off on foot and leave you to deal with them yourself."
Saethyr glared at the guard, her look all too clear that she had no
intention to help either guard save their own necks.
GM:
The oldest of the slave girls, a shapely brunette, has said little
until now. Now she speaks up, first at Saethr:
"We're all in the same boat. We have to stick together."
She turns to Garth.
"I'm Jana. I was trained as an Initiate... I have a little healing
power. A very little. But enough to ease the pain of your wound."
Saethyr (new):
Saethyr looks at the brunette and replies, "If I stay, it will be on
my terms. And my terms are simple. I will be let to go free when it
is done. I will leave without either of them stopping me."
> Saethyr looks at the brunette and replies, "If I stay, it will be on
> my terms. And my terms are simple. I will be let to go free when it
> is done. I will leave without either of them stopping me."
Jana looks west, to where the afternoon sun is lowering towards
evening, and northwest, in the direction they have just come from.
She looks a little crossly at Saethr.
Jana:
"You don't have any weapons, or armour, or supplies. If you go running
off now you'll die."
She turns back to Garth. Laying her hand on his injured side, he feels
warmth enter his body. The pain eases, and the damaged scalemail
impacted into the wound falls away. (1 hp back, Garth at 3/11 hp).
Jana nods.
"That's all I can do."
GM:
Garth considers his options. It's about two hours until sunset; the
wagon is maybe 8 miles northwest from the Port of Bier on the
Roglaroon, their destination - at oxen-pace, that's about four hours or
so. The last Dunael village they passed is a similar distance back
northwest along the Old South Road, of course the orcs are in that
direction. Garth wonders where Greenie has got to; for all he knows
that fleeing orc has killed the little guy. It doesn't look like
Saethr is willing to help him against the orcs, anyway.
Greenie:
> He will give up on the horse, and try again to orient himself.
> Hopefully he can find the others.
Luckily, the sun is shining. It's afternoon, so it must be to the
southwest, which means south is... that way.
Fifteen minutes later, Greenie emerges from the forest onto the Old
South Road. To his relief he can see the slave wagon, just a hundred
yards or so further down the road. It's stopped, and the seven now
unchained slave girls are stretching their limbs outside the wagon,
while a nubile dark-haired slave girl is tending to Garth's flank
injury. The flame-haired amazon slave (Saethr) is standing near
Garth, looking annoyed.
Garth:
"Thanks for that" to the lady who just healed him.
"Listen Lady. I have NO intention of taking ANY of you ANYWHERE NEAR
any slavers or whatever. Im taking whoever wants to go, back to
civilisation. The ONLY reason I was on this damn wagon in the first
place was to get some money. OK. Now I dont know about you, but we
got a few hours til sunset, and I want to make ourselves as secure as
we can, cos in case you didnt notice we still have a bunch of
greenskins out there somewhere."
Garth thinks how hotheaded the Amazon is, just like Hilda back in the
village. Before he found out about her and Wulfgar.
"Are you helping or not?"
Greenie:
Greenie walks up, mentally tallying up the bodies of various kinds he sees, to get some idea of how many orcs got killed. "Anyone check the orcs for possible salvage?" He was a bit distracted by the pretty (and naked?) slave girls, but tried to not stare.
> "Are you helping or not?"
Jana, the brunette healer, interjects:
"Garth, our home on Bendigroth is a long way from here, but if you
can escort us to Council Lake west of the Howling Hills, the clans
are meeting there soon for the Spring Gathering. We'll be able to
return to our families, and I'm sure you'll be well rewarded. I
suppose we'll have to go back through the City-State..."
(tag Garth, Saethyr)
GM: You are on the Old South Road between the City State and Bier -
see:
http://ph.groups.yahoo.com/group/CandCWilderlands/photos/view/debc?
b=3&m=f&o=0
Scale 1 hex = 15m, you are 2 hexes SE of the City State. The road
towards Council Lake goes northwest from the City State through
Gaehill, then west over the Howling Hills.
> Greenie walks up, mentally tallying up the bodies of various kinds
he sees, to get some idea of how many orcs got killed.
GM: You're on the road about a mile and a half or so south-east from
the ambush site now, so the only bodies Greenie sees are the wounded
Skandik warrior Garth and his bevy of seven buxom naked beauties.
Rem the orcs won the battle, so there are no dead orcs (or slavers) to
loot!
IC:
Garth, Saethr and the girls see the little thief Greenie walk up,
casual as you please. The short big-breasted blonde girl Carol smiles
at him as he approaches, brushing a lock of hair from her blue eyes.
She moves towards Greenie.
"I saw you kill those two orcs! You were great! Are you hurt?"
The dark-haired healer Jana looks at Carol, a little disapproving of
her flirtatiousness.
(tag Greenie, Garth, Saethr)
Greenie is looking about at them all, relieved that they at least are all still alive. He blushed a bit at the girl's praise. "Me? Oh, I just got lucky, really, yeah, I'm fine." He looks down at himself to make sure. "Had to chase that one for a while, then saw the caravan master's horse and tried to catch it, but I'm not much of a horse person so it wouldn't let me get close. I fear we're the only survivors of the whole caravan...." He was still trying to not stare at the slaves, but finding it increasingly difficult, especially as regards Carol, the one who spoke nicely to him. It is also apparent he has found a new weapon, the cutlass he has tucked into his belt.
Tags all
Garth thinks how hotheaded the Amazon is, just like Hilda back in the
village. Before he found out about her and Wulfgar.
>>"Are you helping or not?"<<
Saethyr (new):
Saethyr studies him, her face unreadable. After several long minutes, she finally speaks.
"If you lie, you will pay with your life," she begins. Then looks back the way they had came, thinking. "It think it would be best for us to find some type of lodging we can hole up in and fortify until morning. Even if the other guard made it, which he probably didn't, we don't have the numbers or weapons to take on the last of the orcs. Returning would be suicidal and foolish."
Greenie (old):
Greenie walks up, mentally tallying up the bodies of various kinds he sees, to get some idea of how many orcs got killed. "Anyone check these orcs for possible salvage?" He was a bit distracted by the pretty (and naked?) slave girls, but tried to not stare.
Saethyr (new):
Greenie's voice causes Saethyr to spin about, assuming a defensive stance.
SimonFeb 17, 2007
> Greenie is looking about at them all, relieved that they at least
are all still alive. He blushed a bit at the girl's praise. "Me? Oh,
I just got lucky, really, yeah, I'm fine." He looks down at himself
to make sure. "Had to chase that one for a while, then saw the
caravan master's horse and tried to catch it, but I'm not much of a
horse person so it wouldn't let me get close. I fear we're the only
survivors of the whole caravan...." He was still trying to not stare
at the slaves, but finding it increasingly difficult, especially as
regards Carol, the one who spoke nicely to him. It is also apparent
he has found a new weapon, the cutlass he has tucked into his belt.<
GM: I shall avoid the obvious 'is that a weapon in your pocket?' line
here...
IC:
Carol flushes a little at Greenie's gaze, and smiles back. Like most
Tharbrians she's fair-skinned and blue eyed, with a short curvaceous
physique and a very impressive bosom. A couple of the other girls
move to greet Greenie, but Carol flashes them a glance, warning them
off, and she goes to put a hand round Greenie's waist. She leans in
close.
"Thank you for rescuing us..." She murmurs, and leans in, kissing
his cheek. Her full breasts brush against his slender chest.
Jana snorts disapprovingly.
(tag PCs)
rjiukFeb 17, 2007
Garth sizes up the new arrival. "Well met. I liked the way you took
out that Orc. Good Job." Garth approaches the man and shakes his
hand. He'd give him a hearty slap on the back but he's a bit the worse
for wear himself.
Garth will attempt to persuade the other two to assit in returning the
slave girls to nominal civilisation. He's feeling a little withdrawn
after the battle, and the reminder of Hilda. Garth will not make any
advances on Jana but if she appears willing Garth is no prude.
OOC: I wont get the chance to be near the PC for perhaps two days, so
Garth's withdrawal into himself means he can play along with the other
PCs and provide some minor muscle. Garth consults the gods above and
wonders how long til he levels? Sorry Im used to checking my XP bar in
WoW and getting an instant readout...
Saethyr (new):
Saethyr looks at the slavegirl slidling up to the other guard,
disgust clearly written across her face. Then returning her attention
to Garth, she says, 'If you expect me to add a hand in defending
against the orcs, what do you intend me to use as a weapon? Plus, I
need some kind of protection from their blades."
GM: Garth talks a little with Greenie and Saethr, proposing that they
help him get the Tharbrian girls back home. It's clear to Greenie and
Saethr though that the young Skandik warrior is beginning to get a
fever, and looks in a bad way. Jana the dark-haired healer helps him
to lie down in the cage on back of the wagon, where she tends to him
solicitously, mopping his brow with water from his flask.
387Re: (Dearthwood) Parties Meet!
SimonFeb 17, 2007
Iris, Arnora, Martin:
The three have been travelling north from Bier through the wood some
four hours, with occasional rest breaks for Iris, for the lady wizard
is unused to such exertions and her bedroll and pack is more load than
she's used to. Arnora, carrying full war harness as well as bedroll
and pack, helps her when necessary.
They have covered some eight miles, when Martin spots an ox-drawn
wagon standing on the road ahead through the trees, and human figures
nearby - it looks like half a dozen or so naked young women, and a
couple of male warriors - slavers? The women aren't chained or bound,
though. One of the male warriors looks wounded, he's lying in the
(open) cage, a dark-haired shapely young woman is mopping his brow.
The other, a small man, is chatting with a pretty, big-breasted blonde
girl, her arm around his waist.
Most of the other girls are sitting or standing around, talking and
stretching. They haven't spotted the three travellers yet.
tag: Iris, Arnora, Martin. If they openly approach Greenie, Saethr
Garth and co, you can all roleplay intros between the six PCs.
_________________________________________
old- Arnora:
"There's a sight one does not see every day.." Arnora appeared
bemused.
"A slave revolt?" An open cage and a bevy of nude beauties hardly
seemed threatening..at least not in the conventional sense. Urging
Iris to be watchful and keep herself safely near and behind, the
Skandik shield maiden glances to Martin. "What do you think? A
bandit ruse perhaps?" Her clear cerulean eyes scanned the forest to
either side of the road, and her grip tightened upon her sword. "If
this group has been setupon themselves, then I would be inclinded to
see if we can render any aid."
new- Martin:
Martin places a arrow to bow, impressed with Arnora's
caution. "Wouldn't be the first time Orcs had harassed the road
here about. To few guards to be a full escort for such costly
merchandise." The last was said as a matter of fact, being raised
in the area he was use to slave traders traveling this road. Even
the Skandik had it's need of slaves.
"I think they need help, no armor on the women and maybe two swords
among them."
Martin proceeds forward cautiously taking the lead, keeping the
arrow facing the down at the road but ready.
"Hail, do you need assistance," he calls firmly.
> Saethyr (old):
>
> Saethyr spun on her heel, cutlass at ready and her eyes narrowed.
> Slowly she whipped the cutlass back and force, prepared to defend
> herself if needed.
>
Martin-
The corner of Martin's mouth pulls into a lopsided smile as he sees
the beautiful pleasure slave spin to defend herself. His wolfish
smiles does not dictate Martins demeanor, he is fully alert and ready
for a fight. This road had many a man hacked to small pieces, he did
not intend to be one of them.
"Stand easy fair one. If I wanted those in your group dead surly I
would have loosed my arrows first."
There was something about the way she stood, this slave was at ease
with sword play. That was something to keep in mind.
GM: The Tharbrian slave girls watch nervously as the three travellers
approach. The big-breasted blonde girl Carol hugs Greenie closer,
looking fearful, while in the cage the shapely brunette healer Jana
looks up from tending to Garth, then over to the rogue Greenie,
waiting to see how he'll react.
Lying in the cage on a bed of straw, Garth looks over at the three
travellers approaching, still feeling a little light-headed. Looks
like a male bowman and two women - a tall Skandik war-maid in armour,
and a gorgeous, petite yet voluptuous maiden in scanty chain halter.
Hmm, the shorter woman looks strangely familiar... he's seen her
before.
It takes a moment in his befuddled state before he recognises her as
one of Croy's aristocracy, Iris Van Kennis, only niece of Olaf Raven-
Eye, the Wizard of Croy!
Iris:
>
> "I certainly have no wish to leave them if they are in trouble,
Arnora, however, I do not intend to be delayed to the point of folly
either. Let's see what can be done, and if need be, bring them along
to shelter for this evening before we part ways."
> "In Wotan's name stand down Amazon!" called Iris with the voice of
authority born of her nobility and station. "If you do not wish our
help, we will walk on by, but it looks as though your party could use
a hand getting to safety before dark."
new- Martin:
Martin places a arrow to bow, impressed with Arnora's
caution. "Wouldn't be the first time Orcs had harassed the road
here about. To few guards to be a full escort for such costly
merchandise. " The last was said as a matter of fact, being raised
in the area he was use to slave traders traveling this road. Even
the Skandik had it's need of slaves.
"I think they need help, no armor on the women and maybe two swords
among them."
Saethyr (new):
Saethyr glared at the male with intense dislike.
"I am Saethyr Moonfire of the Amazons," she declared proudly, her
eyes full of fire and pride. "If you harm any here, you will deal
with me personally. I have given them my word to help as long as they
keep their word of freedom."
Arnora:
Arnora nodded to Iris, reassuring she would follow and guard her
whatever decisions she needed to make to fullfill the quest she had
been given. "A kindness served here, Milady, may return to us a
thousandfold later- so sayeth Njarlis the Old, of the Ylfing Clan."
She murmured."
Raising her voice then so that all could hear, she inclined her head
in the direction of the exotic slave swinging the sword. "That one is
wounded." Arnora felt the tension fairly crackle in the air between
them all, and did not wish to provoke matters. She had to agree with
Martin, this had all the looks of a former slave wagon, limping along
after an attack of some sort. Sheathing her sword as a gesture of
good faith, Arnora placed both hands on her hips, and nodded in the
general direction of the cage, to the injured Garth. "I carry with
me healing supplies."
Saethyr (new):
Never letter her eyes leave the male (Martin), Saethyr relaxed her
stance slightly, but the cutlass remained in her hand and she was
prepared for any attacks.
To https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/Barbarians_of_the_Wilderlands/conversations/messages/404
Almost everyone dies at https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/Barbarians_of_the_Wilderlands/conversations/messages/2387 - March 13 2008, over a year of play.
Almost everyone dies at https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/Barbarians_of_the_Wilderlands/conversations/messages/2387 - March 13 2008, over a year of play.
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