(015) Near Saxxon's Gatehouse

[waysoftheearth]

waysoftheearth wrote:
Health Check:


Mads (AC4) 1 of 9
Dieter (AC3) -1 of 12 Incapacitated
Highbough (AC7) 4 of 4
Pelenwin (AC5) 8 of 12
Olaf (AC3) 8 of 10
Wibert (AC6) 8 of 8
Ulric (AC9) 0 of 4 Incapacitated
Gustave (AC7) 2 of 9
Andaros (AC5) 10 of 12
Boris (AC7) 4 of 7
Fix (AC7) 6 of 6
Victor (AC4) 10 of 10

[waysoftheearth]

verhaden wrote:
Mads the Fair

"Shit." Mads says breathlessly. Was that Dieter? Keeping his eyes on Sigmund, Mads hunkers down defensively, not wanting to give up another opening.

The arrival of Highbough and Pelewin give him some hope, however, and he attempts to allow them a shot at the action while retreating slightly.

[waysoftheearth]

tonneau wrote:
Gustave regards his punctured jerkin with some remorse before taking a dagger to a strip and using it to bind Ulrics injuries.
"Come back to us Ulric", he intones as he works, glancing up occasionally to see if any of the brigands are keen to crest the ridge that seperates them, "we could really use your magics right now..."

[waysoftheearth]

heartless wrote:

The Support:

Wibert, from his lone vantage, springs an arrow from his shortbow at the central part of the line of brigands (1d20=19) and despite the distance his missile flies with uncanny accuracy (1dd=5) and punches through the brigand's throat for 5 hit points, leaving him choking and spluttering on his own blood as he drops to the ground before he can loose his own missile.

Well I will be a Hobgoblin's Uncle, this Elvish shortbow is worth its weight in gold, mutters Wibert . He then kisses his short bow and shoots again.

[waysoftheearth]

mushgnome wrote:
Highbough presses the attack against Sigmund, staying out of Wulfric's reach if possible.

[waysoftheearth]

eris wrote:
Olaf shouts over his shoulder, "Boris, take care of Dieter's wounds! The rest of you charge the line of bowman and break them up!"

Then he drops his bow and pulling his sword and shield moves quickly around Highbrough to attack the big man that felled Dieter. Olaf will flank him, if possible, and use his shield to block the brigand's blows (sacrificing it if needed) while he thrusts and chops at this opponent with his sword.

[waysoftheearth]

tombowings wrote:
Pelenwin punches out hard, thrusting with his pole axe in the attempt to keep Mads from harm.

[waysoftheearth]

danhem wrote:
Ulric mutters strange and alien words in his unconscious delirium.

[waysoftheearth]

waysoftheearth wrote:
The Melee

The fighting is vicious. Mads, knowing his injuries, concentrates on defense, allowing Highbough and Pelenwin to press the fight against Sigmund, "Three against one now?!" blasphemes Sigmund, sweating the odds, but still holding his own with frantic thrusts and stabs of sword and dagger.

Initiative is rolled (1d6; Mads=2+1, Sigmund=2+1, Pelenwin=6-1, Highbough=4)

Highbough, with the advantage of reach, drives Sigmund back with artful thrusts and parries of his spear (1d20=8), but faced with three Men Sigmund is fighting for his life and holding a tight defense.

But with Sigmund on the backfoot, Pelenwin muscles into position before the wounded Mads, and anticipates Sigmund's counter beautifully, timing a (1d20=17) fierce swing of his pole-axe near perfectly, (3dd=2,5,2) tearing open Sigmund's chest armour and dashing open a freely bleeding wound for 5 hit points. Sigmund his hurt and desperate, but not beaten yet! He replies with a foray of his own (1d20=3) but he lacks his recent verve, and doesn't seriously threaten.

Meanwhile Olaf joins the fray and gives battle to the great, hairy Wulfric.

"Outta my way, boy!" spits Wulfric, hewing mightily about him with jagged morning-star and equally venemous profanities. Initiative is rolled (1d6; Olaf=1, Wulfric=1).

Olaf fients left then drives forward just as Wulfric looks to parry to his right, but then crashes forward. The young fighter meets the bear-sized murderer with a stunning clash of arms (1d20; Olaf=16, Wulfric=18)! Wulfric (2dd=6,4) smashes Olaf's sheild arm mightily, peircing shield and arm, and numbing the whole left side of Olaf's body for 8 hit points! At the very same moment Olaf slashes his broad bladed sword deeply across Wulfric's trunk-thick belly (2dd=4,4) for a gruesome 10 hit points!!

Olaf never recovers his balance, staggering for a moment more, then collapsing with a clatter (0 of 10 hit points).

"Is that all you've got?" grins Wulfric madly, looking about for his next victim -- bloody saliva hanging from his red teeth, as a wash of horridly bright gore starts seeping from his wound...

Behind them all, Boris thankfully drops to Dieter's side and drags him back from the brink of battle then takes his bruised and bleeding head in his caloused hands, "Sir, can you hear me, Sir?" he gasps, then hastens to free his water-skin and wash away the swear and blood from Dieter's ashen face...

[waysoftheearth]

waysoftheearth wrote:
As this begins to unfold Victor and Fix break into a charge and pound across the uneven gully toward the line of crass brigands, who are already hastily pushing fresh arrows from their frugle quivers and bending their bows to loose their deadly volley...

All the while, upon the high east ridge Wibert takes his aim once more, and lets slip his own missile -- aiming over Fix and Victor's heads.

Wibert's missile streaks across the field first, but the distance to his target is far, and theirs only short. With two of the ruffians already fled, the four that remain loose their barrage at Fix and Victor (target selection 1-3=Fix, 4-6=Victor; 4d6=5,2,3,3).

The air is thick with missiles!

Wibert's aim (1d20=13) is fair once more, and his missle stuns the dour enemy at the far right end of the line (1dd=3), giving him 3 hit points of serious hurt, but not slaying him.

The hail of black arrows whistle through the air toward bold Fix and Victor! (4d20=8,18,17,9). Several shafts fly wide of the pair, but another is true and punches deeply into Fix's ringmailed chest as he runs onto it, its dagger-point (1dd=5) bursting bloodily from his back. In slowed time Fix throws his head back to cry his anguish as he runs on, exposing his grimy neck to the chill air -- and to the evil eye of the last sully brigand who looses his peccant shot (1dd=6). Fix's cry is cut off as the deadly missile lodges half-way through his throat. Already falling, Fix gives a half choked cough. His face contorts in a diabolic grimace, and then he crashes to the ground on his back. Hard. He boldly struggles to rise again, managing to half lift his bloody face from the earth once. Twice. And then to gasp one more bloody gurgle before collapsing. Ruin and Havock! Fix lies slain upon the cold, muddy field.

Victor charges on brandishing axe and sheild, obliviously roaring his battle cry!