Immersive Ink

heartless wrote:
On the side to the line and back say 8 feet, Padrig lights a torch and places it into the ground and stands infront and get this short bow out ready to shoot. He also places his spear in the ground and shield next to it so Padrig can quickly change weapons if need be.

"Get ready everyone something big is coming!", says Padrig.

Padrig will listen to how many directions any approaching sounds are coming from, and report it to the group.

tombowings wrote:
Flewellen takes up the task of fire building. Gathering what little sticks remain inside the campsite, Flewellen tosses them on the fire. After that he will take up his dagger and wade up to the front lines.

waysoftheearth wrote:

heartless wrote:OOC: Is there enough light with torch light to cast a scroll spell if need be?

Yes, lantern light or torch light, or even candlelight, is sufficient to read by.

waysoftheearth wrote:
The company is roused hastily to heed Olaf's warning in the chill, dark night. Each pulls his boots on hastily and locates his favoured weapon. Helms are donned (excepting Victor), and shields are grabbed.

Michele begins to work the windlass of his great arbelast, while Olaf checks the nervous mule and Ulric and Flewellen see to tossing all remaining fuel on the fire -- there is little enough of this, but at least a few tiny yellow flames spring up. The remainder of the company for as good a "line" as they can in the cramped clearing.

Each of you now clearly hears trees being swept aside and branches cracking and snapping as something large forces its way through the press of the dark copse. There is a deep, tremorous moan -- akin to the strain of a great tree being toppled -- and now you see nearby trees and shrubs shuddering, and then a whole tree is ripped aside and a hulking 8ft tall shape steps into its place with a great thud, smashing aside another of few trees remaining between it and the tiny camp site. The monstrosity seems to be made all of bark and moss and things of the swamp itself! It hunches over to bring its mishapen head level with you all and gives a mighty blast of a roar that shakes the surrounding trees! The mule shrieks and pulls frantically at his bonds. Knees tremble and knock together and both Fix and Boris go pale and soil their linens -- which, under the circumstances, is a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

--

Excepting Olaf and Anwyn, the fighting-man are protected only by their gambesons (AC8), helms and shields.

Victor's crossbow is loaded and ready. Michele's arbelast requires another round to load.

Mud map coming up...

waysoftheearth wrote:
The dark and cold situation is thus;



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W+E...&.&.&.&&.&.&..&.&.&&.&
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X Horror
- Path in
& Tree
* Campfire
# Cart
8 Mule

A Anwyn
b Boris
C Caine
D Dieter
F Flewellen
f Fix
G Gustave
M Mads
m Michele
O Olaf
P Padrig
T Taines
U Ulric
V Victor


Your intentions for the upcoming round, please...

verhaden wrote:
Mads the Fair

I don't think I'm on the map.

Mads yells out "We have no quarrel with you! Begone, lest we set you aflame in defense!" He takes an aggressive stance and makes the presence of his axe plain and clear. Muttering under his breath, he says "Lucky four-leafed clover my arse . . ."

waysoftheearth wrote:

verhaden wrote:I don't think I'm on the map.

Oops, fixed now [img]images/smiley/smiley.png[/img]

tonneau wrote:
"wa...?", says Gustave, sitting up in his bedroll and rubbing his eyes at the firelight.
He notes the confusion in the camp in a half-daze before focussing on the large swamp-thing, and becoming suddenly and exceptionally awake.
He grabs a knife from within his bedroll and frantically attempts to extract himself from the clinging embrace of what look to be a mix of fine silk sheets before he is trampled to death in his bed.

coffee wrote:
Dieter will grimly grip his sword and strike off to the northeast, hoping to circle around behind the d**ned thing.

makofan wrote:
Caine will follow Dieter, hoping for some sort of flank attack, should violence be needed