6dfd9c No.28203 [Last50 Posts]
Welcome my friends to Majewl; a world torn between the forces of man and dark forces of the Wild King. Our story begins long ago at the beginning of the world, the first of races were born pure and free except for one. The race of man was corrupted with darkness and greed. Though some were pure and noble man had a darkness in his heart, the ever growing lust for power. As magic was still raw in the world a single human attempted to bind it all to himself twisting his form to match the corrupted soul and the Wild King was born. The Wild King used his foul magics to corrupt the world and enslave all other life. Eventually a hero rose among the humans who would sacrifice himself to slay the Wild King and end his blight upon the world. On the site of the hero’s death a Order of Knights was founded “The Order of the Martyr” who are dedicated to the destruction of evil and protection of the realm. Hundreds of years have passed since then and humans have flourished spreading across the world with knowledge of the Wild King having passed into legend. With the decline in belief in the Wild King and magic the Order has become a dumping ground for embarrassing second sons and noble bastards. A shell of the once noble order which dominated the Outer Kingdom the Order limps along with Castle Heilger serving as their single remaining holding.
These opulent and decadent times have been ended with the horrifying news, THE WILD KING RIDES AGAIN. Dark forces rising from the deep southern swamps of the continent and ripping into the Outer Kingdom sacking and burning everything they touch. However, Castle Heilger resting place of the Hero acts as a shield; his holy spirit reaching out and stopping any incursion of the Wild King’s forces into the Inner Kingdom. His forces now march towards the Castle staffed by the declining order. Will you hold long enough to allow the forces of good to rally or be washed away by wave of darkness.
——
Character Creation:
Name: What’s in a name?
Age: How many years?
Speciality: Infantry/Skirmisher/Scout/Anything you want
Rank: [See section]
Background: What makes you tick
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
Rank:
First choose from which rank you hold in the castle, many ranks have limited populations. If your character dies in play you may always rejoin as any surviving defenders.
[Knight-Steward] 1 (Commander of the Order)
[Knight-Sorcerer] 1 (Magic man)
[Sword of the Martyr] 1 (User of the hero’s artifact sword)
[Knights of the Martyr] 54
[Order Servants] 26
[Visitors] 4 (special snowflake)
Grit Points:
Every character starts with 3 grit points which can be spent in game to turn any failure into a minor success and any success into a major success. A character can spend grit points at the start of the game to gain bonuses based on their backstory. Each character can also choose to take up to 3 negatives to gain grit points upon character creation. REMINDER: Please list clearly all Grit point purchases and gains from character creation.
—–
1: Critical Failure
2-10: Major Failure
11-19: Medium Failure
20-39: Minor Failure
40-59: Minor Success
60-79: Medium Success
80-95: Major Success
96-99: Critical Success
100: Divine Success
Maps and first turn will be on Monday. Every day will be cut into 4 turns, two for day and two for night.
____________________________
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6dfd9c No.28207
Name: Grigoric Urlfurlson
Age: 33
Speciality: Ranger/Archer/Scout? As long as I get a bow and arrow.
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: The Order Servants are the lowest of the Order, but not without their own honour and inner rankings. As a young teen, Grigoric showed phenomenal talent during the animal hunts when serving as a squire to the late Lord Urlfurl. Impressed by his accuracy and discipline, Urlfurl initiated the necessary procedures to allow Grigoric to train as a Knight of the Martyr. Now, many years later, Grigoric is well known as a very loyal Knight who has taken on the name of his savior to bring glory to both it and the church.
Grit: 3
-Bonus: Bow and Arrow Mastery
-Negative: Lowblood
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6dfd9c No.28208
>>28203
Name: Aelfwar Coenwulf
Age: 27
Speciality: Scout/Ranger
Rank: Order Servants - Hanwud Rangers
Background: Aelfwar was raised in the town of Elgerrie, several miles south of Castle Heilger. The Coenwulf clan were typically antagonistic to the Order, seeing them as heavyhanded thugs imposing antiquated values on villages that wanted nothing to do with them. But when news of the Wild King began popping up, Aelfwar knew the only hope of protecting his kin from the King's onslaught was with the Order.
So he slipped out one night, entering the Castle as a recruit. His training was brief and far from thorough, but the Order was already hard-pressed for willing volunteers. They slated him for service in the Hanwud Rangers, traditionally stationed to guard the forests around the castle, but now recalled within its walls on reserve duty. Though the ideals of the Order and its Hero are foreign to him, he knows the universal values: his home, his clan and his gods. They shall guide him through these dark times, an inspiration in the encroaching darkness.
Grit: 2
-Bonus: Advanced Woodsmanship, Great Resilience
-Negative: Pagan heathen
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6dfd9c No.28209
Character Creation:
Name: Armian Shatai
Age: 24
Speciality: Infantry
Rank: [Sword of the Martyr]
Background: Armian has been in the order since his birth. Taken in as an orphan when his mother an unknown common woman died giving birth just outside the castle. He has devoted his life to the order in a way few have before him. He has nothing else. His everyday was filled with instruction and self practice with the sword. He quickly rose to the very top of the lists when it came to blade combat. At the age of 20 he was awarded the rank sword of the martyr and has represented the order by bearing the holy weapon ever since. But this skill did not come without cost. He is very bad at talking to others his life locked in training made him unable to develop other important skillsets. While men will follow him into combat none follow him off the battlefield. He is in many ways outcast even while bearing the most honorable title the castle has.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: (Sword mastery) (Advanced tactics)
-Negative: (Anti-social)(orphan)
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6dfd9c No.28210
Claiming [Knight-Sorcerer]. Will begin writing nao.
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6dfd9c No.28212
>>28203
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Heavy Infantry/Tactical Knowledge
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: Grit - 1 - Leader of men
-Negative: Grit + 1 - Recently Promoted
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6dfd9c No.28213
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Sir Crovetius has been at Castle Heilger longer than most knights can remember. Unlike most recruits, he was born into the order, the illegitimate son of a knight and a commoner from a nearby village. Crovetius was raised within the walls of the Castle, and spent his youth learning to fight with the other recruits. His magical potential was realized when, in the middle of a particularly intense training session, his wooden sword turned as hard as iron, and colder than ice. A defensive stab with a training weapon became a lethal stab with a frozen sword. After he killed the recruit he was training with, he was thrown in the dungeons until the leaders of the Order could decide what to do with him. The Knight-Sorcerer at the time, a younger man named Ealdwyn, offered to take the youth under his wing, and teach him how to harness his power. The Commander approved, and Crovetius was released. Over the next few decades, he honed his magical ability under Knight-Sorcerer Ealdwyn. However, it seemed that tragedy was never far behind the young sorcerer. Towards the end of his training, when he was 47 and Ealdwyn was 61, he was walking through the Castle library at night, trying to find a tome for his mentor. When he cast a light spell to illuminate the shelves, the spell became amplified a millionfold and compressed into a single flash. What should have been a flickering flame became a flash of light as bright as the heart of the sun. Through cracks in the castle's mortar, the light could be seen, and, for a brief time, Castle Heilger could be seen a mile away. The other knights were mostly asleep, and were saved from the flash, but Crovetius stared right into the source of the light, and was forever blinded. Fortunately, he knew his way around the castle by memory, and could hear the other members of the order as they went about their business. However, he could never leave the castle again, lest he become lost and helpless. A few years after the event which blinded Crovetius, Ealdwyn passed away peacefully in his sleep, and Crovetius became the Knight-Sorcerer of Castle Heilger, to the dismay of some who feared his magical instability. A fortnight after the death of Knight-Sorcerer Ealdwyn, and Crovetius' installment as the new Knight-Sorcerer, a she-owl flew through Crovetius' open chamber window, and alighted upon his bedframe. He did not hear it fly in, but he heard it land on his bed, and he heard its call. When he sat up and reached out for the noise, the owl did not bite him, but rather lowered its head, so that he could stroke it. After that night, he developed a bond with the owl, who he named Stella. It would fly out at night, and when it returned, he could look into its mind, and see what she had seen. Crovetius had no such bond or ability with any other creature or person, so the two became fast friends, not merely through affection, but through necessity. Crovetius cared for the owl, and Stella became Crovetius' eyes outside of the castle. Many years passed, and Stella never seemed to age, though Crovetius grew older. Now, with the threat of the Wild King rising, the castle needs Crovetius and his owl more than they ever did before, for together, there was nothing which could escape their gaze.
Grit: 2
-Bonus: Magical (-1 Grit), powerful (-1 Grit), Owl familiar (-1 Grit)
-Negative: Blind (+1 Grit), Unstable (+1 Grit)
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6dfd9c No.28214
>>28209
Holy shit, I didn't even read your backstory and I accidentally ripped your birth off.
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6dfd9c No.28215
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount.
This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [+Unkillable]; [+Scary]
-Negative: [-Resentful] [-Old As Hell] [-Jerk] [-UPHOLDS THE GROOMING STANDARD IF WE LET THE GROOMING STANDARD FALL STANDARDS FALL]
Rank:[Knights of the Martyr]
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6dfd9c No.28216
Name: Hadrin Elthath
Age: 19
Speciality: Apprentice Beastmaster
Rank: Order Servant
Background: A Lowblooded peasant, a mere servant of the Order of the Martyr, Hadrin was a mere farmer from a family of farmers, toiling thanklessly to provide grain and meat. Growing up, Hadrin always worked well with animals and beasts, and eventually his skills were recognised and he was inducted as the apprentice beastmaster (something seen as odd considering the last beastmaster died 25 years ago) of the Order, tasked with training and caring for their mighty warbeasts.
Grit: 3
-Bonus: Animal Affinity
-Negative: Lowblood
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6dfd9c No.28217
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6dfd9c No.28218
>>28217
top kek, is this a good movie?
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6dfd9c No.28220
>>28203
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher/Scout
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Sylvan spent his early life in a secluded forest away from civilization living only with his abusive bear of a mother. Running away from home at a young age he learned to survive on his own, mostly sleeping during the day, afraid to sleep when predators were on the prowl.
Over the years Sylvan learned to handle himself, studying the habits and patters of the hunters he once feared, making them his own prey. Eventually he began to feel at ease in the forest, slowly migrating through the always equal looking rows of trees, his first contact with real civilization being his arrest as he was found poaching on the Order's lands.
In light of his rather odd circumstances Sylvan was not excessively punished but forced to serve the Order as a hunter, providing vension and other meat to his new masters' delight.
Even after having been taken into the order Sylvan never really changed his habits, mostly hunting at night and sleeping during the day, always on the search of a new, more dangerous beast to hunt down and kill. Enabled by his strange habits which largely keep him away from people in general Sylvan has never overcome the fear of his mother, avoiding what little women can be found around the Order with utmost efficiency.
>Grit: 3 [See Secion]
-Bonus: [Night Owl] [Anti-Beast Mastery] [Dodge Mastery]
-Negative: [Lowborn] [Dislikes Daylight] [Scared of Women]
This is WhiteDeath's guy
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6dfd9c No.28221
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6dfd9c No.28222
>>28218
Generation Kill was an HBO series. I speak highly of it.
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6dfd9c No.28223
>>28203
Name: Malachai Springhill
Age: 23
Speciality: Fencing Fop
Rank: [Knights of the Martyr]
Background: Born ninth child and sixth son to Count Edward Springhill, Malchai was always a troublesome child from birth. He cried often had a ravenous appetite, kept his parents and siblings up often and early. This is not even mentioning the sheer drain of resources he was as a sixth son and ninth child over all.
Malachai's upbringing was odd. The family was bordering on destitute for nobility and his tutors when not part of the family were cut rate at best, thieves at worst. As such he did rather poorly in most of his classes, excepting swordplay which he took to quickly and gracefully. This lead to him causing trouble everywhere poking people with sticks and "practicing" his swordplay on his sister's dresses and more. Despite all this Malachai grew up into relatively decent young man. Sadly it was not to last.
One night as Malachai was out on the town we ran afoul of the eldest son of Duke Brownhill. What started as a series of veiled insults quickly degenerated into general enmity. Malachai was thrown out of the bad they were at and left. Later as he was making his way through the city he was jumped by several of Brownhill's sycophants. Malachai dispatched them quickly in a series of duels in full view of several guardsmen. Several of the sycophants were sons of other noble houses and died as a result of the duels. Thus Malachai found himself politicked out of his home and into the knights of the Martyr by Brownhill.
Grit: 3
-Bonus: Swordmaster, Fast
-Negative: Political Enemy, Hot Tempered
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6dfd9c No.28224
>>28203
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 2
-Bonus: [+ Heavy Armor Mastery] [+ Hardy] [+ Fearless] [+ Highborn]
-Negative: [- Melancholic] [- Poor Aim] [- Prejudiced (Lowbloods)]
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6dfd9c No.28225
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
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6dfd9c No.28227
Name: Siegward
Age: 30
Speciality: Sentinel
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Siegward appeared at the gates of Castle Heilger a decade ago with his fathers sigil on a letter of assignment in one hand and his favoured weapon in the other. Since joining the order Siegward has spent his days training and nights watching the walls and waiting for opponents to prove himself against. Thanks to his attitude and inability to speak Siegward is widely regarded as the weirdo on the wall by his compatriots and while they wouldn't betray him outright they would be very unlikely of endagnering themselves beyond their duty for his benefit. If he could talk Siegward would still be a man of few words as he only holds respect for those that stay true to their duty and would rather let his convictions speak for who he is.
Grit: 2
-Bonus: [Eyes like a hawk][seemingly unnatural reflexes][master of the bladed polearm]
-Negative: [mute][comrade only in name]
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6dfd9c No.28228
>>28203
Name: Sigismund Berinhard
Age: 24
Speciality: Hunter/ Shock Infantry/ Mystic
Rank: Visitor
Background: Born to a northern tribe chief that united enough tribes to form his own kingdom, Sigismund was presumed heir to the newly formed throne. Only formed after he was considered an adult, Sigismund was given the upbringing of a northern savage and spent most of his childhood learning to survive in the unforgiving north, hunting monsters, great beasts, and fighting against other tribes. Sigismund was lucky to find a dire wolf pup after killing its mother in a chance encounter and brought it back to raise it himself, becoming fast friends and relying on each other. Unfortunately, on the fifth anniversary of the formation of the kingdom, he seduced several of the other tribe lords daughters, and under the old law he would have been executed. However, given he was the son of the king and the people were civilizing, he was exiled from the land and told never to return. Taking his animal friend, named Adolf, he roamed all about, hunting beasts the southerners were not accustomed to fighting and serving as a merc in the petty lords armies. Recently, he heard about the Wild Kings return and sensing a great chance for a good fucking fight, he arrived at Castle Heilger to fight some fucking monsters.
Grit: 3
-Bonus: Monster Hunter, Mystic, Fearless
-Negative: Mystic, Half-Pagan Heathen, Lustful
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6dfd9c No.28238
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6dfd9c No.28240
>>28238
THAT'S A POSITIVE, THE PATTERN IS EMPTY, GHOST RIDER.
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6dfd9c No.28256
>>28207
[Grigoric Urlfurlson]
Speciality: Archer
Armaments: Fine Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Brigandine Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword
Bonus: [Master Archer] +10 to all archery rolls
Negative: [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of noble blood
>>28208
[Aelfwar Coenwulf]
Speciality: Ranger
Armaments: Poor Hunting Bow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Hard Leather Armor, Dagger, Poor Hatchet, Poor Shield
Bonus: [Master Woodsman] +10 to all hunting and foraging rolls
[Great Resilience] You heal injuries at an accelerated rate [Half Time]
Negative: [Pagan Heathen] - You cannot roll Divine Successes
>>28209
[Armian Shtai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness
>>28212
[Bran the Bard]
Speciality: Commander
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
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6dfd9c No.28257
>>28213
[Sir Crovetius]
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus: [Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 5
Magic Bolt: 5
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
>>28215
[Dalmador the Scarred]
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
[Scary] +10 to rally troops
Negative: [Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>28216
[Hadrin Elthath]
Speciality: Beastmaster
Armaments: Fine Hunting Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Mail Armor, Poor Longsword, Poor Shield, 3 Hounds
Bonus: [Animal Affinity] +10 to all beast-command rolls
Negative: [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of noble blood
>>28220
[Sylvan]
Speciality: Skirmisher
Armaments: Fine Hunting Bow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Hide Armor , Poor Dagger
Bonus: [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
[Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness
[Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
Negative: [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of noble blood
[Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
[Sacred of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
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6dfd9c No.28258
>>28223
[Malachai Springhill]
Speciality: Fencing Fop
Armaments: Fine Rapier, Soft Leather Armor, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Swordmaster] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Fast] You always attack first
Negative: [Political Enemy] Someone in the order has been paid a lot of money to ensure your downfall
[Hot Tempered] You cannot pass on a direct challenge
>>28224
[Marius Valjean]
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings
>>28225
[Man Raider]
Speciality: Barbarian
Armaments: Fine Bone Club, Poor Bone Armor, Poor Hunting Bow, 12 Iron Wooden Arrows, Quiver
Troops: 50 Warriors, 150 Misc Swamplings
>>28227
[Siegward]
Speciality: Sentinel
Armaments: Fine Pike, Fine Half-Plate, Fine Longword, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master of Pole-arms] +10 to all pole-arm rolls
[Hawk-eye] +10 to all perception rolls
[Unnatural Reflexes] At the start of each combat roll a D6. On a 6 all opponents have -10 to their rolls
Negative: [Mute] Good luck screaming for help
[Comrade only in name] If you get yourself stuck it’s unlikely anyone is coming to save you
>>28228
[Sigismund Berinhand]
Speciality: Mystic Infantry
Armaments: Fine Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Fine Bastard sword, Splint Armor, Dagger, Poor Shield, Dire Wolf Companion
Bonus: [Monster Hunter] +10 against all monster type enemies
[Mystic] Gain mystic spell list
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
[Dire Wolf] You have an animal companion
Negative: [Mystic] -10 to all commands towards those who hold the true god in their hearts
[Pagan Heathen] - You cannot roll Divine Successes
[Lustful] If you have not partaken in pleasures of the flesh for more then 3 days you gain -10 to all rolls
>Ashchan minus one more grit
[Mystic Spell list]
Battle Trance: 3
Beast Sight: 4
Elemental Weapon: 3
Spare the Dying: 5
Ragnarok: 1
Fury of the Gods: 2
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6dfd9c No.28259
DO NOT POST ANYTHING YET.
If you have any questions or complaints please contact me. This is just a character dump more info will follow with the first turn on Monday.
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6dfd9c No.28260
>>28259
Does this count as a post?
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6dfd9c No.28276
>>28260
Do we all start at base grit points unless otherwise noted?
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6dfd9c No.28287
>>28276
You have 2 bonuses and 3 negatives
You would start with 4 grit points
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6dfd9c No.28293
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6dfd9c No.28298
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6dfd9c No.28300
>>28259
Castle Heilger Inventory:
Population
50 Swampling Raiders
150 Swampling Misc.
57 Knights of the Martyr
25 Order Servants
1 Order Smith
4 Visitors
100 Peasant Hunters
300 Peasant Misc.
Resources:
1 Well
10 days rations
6 Warhorses
3 Packhorses
8 days horse feed
6 Pigs
8 Chickens
10 casks of Mead
3 tons of lumber
30 days of firewood
Armoury:
1400 Arrows
30 Fine Longswords
30 Fine Kite Shields
20 Poor Longswords
40 Poor Spears
10 Fine Pikes
50 Fine Daggers
20 Fine Longbows
30 Poor Hunting Bows
10 Fine Tower Shields
5 Fine Warhammers
6 Fine Greatswords
10 Fine Plate Armours
6 Fine Half-Plate
10 Fine Brigandine
20 Fine Mail
——
The map is not perfect and is missing a few tiny details but.
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6dfd9c No.28301
>>28300
The first turn has begins as the sun rises on Castle Heilger as a swarm of peasants bang on the gatehouse for admittance foretelling the arrival of the Wild Kings forces. Approximately 700 Darklings and a massive Darkwood Walker approach from the south and should arrive by nightfall, how will you prepare for this first assault.
—
All days are 4 turns, 2 for day and 2 for night. All characters must dedicate two actions in a row to sleep a day or suffer cumulative negatives. [Can be split between two adjacent turns]
—-
Knight-Steward:
Who shall command the Gatehouse
Who shall garrison the Gate house
Feel free to communicate as a free action to give players commands on tasks.
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6dfd9c No.28302
>>28301
The sword awaits the stewards commands.
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6dfd9c No.28303
 | Rolled 85, 19 = 104 (2d100) |
>>28301
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 2
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 5
Magic Bolt: 5
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. If the horde is coming, we must prepare, and the first step in preparing a defense is to know your opponent. I will send Stella out, but keep a servant with me to keep me informed about developments. While Stella is out, she will seek out the enemy army on silent wings, and I will look for potential weaknesses in their defenses. Her caution is of the utmost importance, for not only is she my greatest friend and companion, I would be completely helpless without her. [Send Stella out to scout out the enemy force, but VERY carefully.]
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6dfd9c No.28304
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>28301
Marius volunteers to take position in the Gatehouse.
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6dfd9c No.28314
>>28301
>The Gatehouse Garrison
As the oldest and most experienced foot soldier of the order, and one of its most combat capable, Dalmador the Scarred shall be given command of the gatehouse, with Marius Valjean, Aelfwar Coenwulf, Armian Shtai and Grigoric Urlfurlson as the secondary lieutenants of the garrison. The Gatehouse Garrison shall consist of as follows:
>>28208
>>28209
>>28215
>>28224
>>28207
15 Swampling raiders
25 Swampling Misc.
20 Knights of the Matyr
5 Order Servants
35 Peasant Hunters
25 Peasant Misc.
>Raiding party
>>28208
>>28216
>>28220
>>28225
>>28228
Before the main enemy force arrives, we shall wither it down with our newly arrived friends expertise. Man raider shall take a raiding party consisting of Sigismund Berinhand, Sylvan, Hadrin Elthath and Aelfwar Coenwulf, and whoever else he deems necessary for the task. Your goal is to impede and harm the enemy as much as possible so that they are firmly blunted before they arrive at our gates.
>The Castle
Finally, all remaining parties are to ready the castle for the siege, batten down the hatches, fortify entrances and sallyports, boil the oil and ready the rocks.
Before the men and women depart to fufill there duties, Bran holds them for a few moments longer to deliver a solemn speech….
"Knights of the Order, people of the Great Swamp, and humble villagers of the Outer Kingdom. We find ourselves in dire straits, the Wild King rides once again, and the only thing standing in his way is this keep, and the people within it. Us. We are what will hold back the dark tide of evil from the lands beyond, in the same way that the Last Hero did many ages ago. And like him, we shall succeed, we shall not go quietly into that good night! We shall rage, RAGE against the dying of the light! The waves of the Wild King's army shall crash against our rocks but we shall hold firm! Holding in the hope that in our defiance, The lands of the Great Kingdom shall unite, and we shall banish Evil once and for all! Now go, make ready, for doom is coming, and we shall not meet it unprepared! The Gods, both new and old, are with us!
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6dfd9c No.28318
| Rolled 59, 59 = 118 (2d100) |
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
1. Bran would spend the first part of the morning praying at the Crypt of the Hero, asking for guidance and strength in the coming days, and for the safety of his people. Maybe a little side question about the horn.
2. For the second part of the morning, he would survey the castle and the gatehouse, seeing what pieces were in ill-repair and what could be fixed, along with seeing to the needs of the men and the peasants
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6dfd9c No.28319
"Dubs! Truly, the gods are with us!"
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6dfd9c No.28320
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6dfd9c No.28321
| Rolled 91, 33 = 124 (2d100) |
>>28314
Name: Grigoric Urlfurlson
Age: 33
Speciality: Archer
Armaments: Fine Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Brigandine Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: The Order Servants are the lowest of the Order, but not without their own honour and inner rankings. As a young teen, Grigoric showed phenomenal talent during the animal hunts when serving as a squire to the late Lord Urlfurl. Impressed by his accuracy and discipline, Urlfurl initiated the necessary procedures to allow Grigoric to train as a Knight of the Martyr. Now, many years later, Grigoric is well known as a very loyal Knight who has taken on the name of his savior to bring glory to both it and the church.
Bonus: [Master Archer] +10 to all archery rolls
Negative: [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of noble blood
1. Rally the Peasant Hunters, check their equipment, mood, and skill. While better equipment is unlikely to be found, proper maintenance and care goes a long way in keeping your arrows going a long way.
2. Lead the Poor Peasant Hunters on a Pleasant Pheasant Hunt. The attack will come at nightfall, so we may as well be productive and stock up on supplies to last the siege. Nothing like fresh meat to keep a man's spirits high!
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6dfd9c No.28322
You spelled my name wrong.
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness
1.2. The steward has issued orders and the sword obeys. I move down to the gatehouse and begin preparing for the siege. Applying mortar to holes in the front hoping it helps the damn thing hold together when the ent arrives. And digging pits in front of the gatehouse (so a charging enemy will trip and trample their own people) leaving them uncovered for now so our own men do not fall in them.
Bristling all the while at being put under the old man's charge. That moron couldn't lead a group of soldiers out of an old paper bag. His only skill is having survived this long while missing 3/4ths of his brain.
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6dfd9c No.28323
| Rolled 82, 26 = 108 (2d100) |
>>28322
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6dfd9c No.28325
>>28322
A raven arrives for Armian from the Knight-Steward
"Sword of the Matyr, as per our discussion earlier this morn, if you happen upon some useless refuse while stationed at the gatehouse, and if said refuse impedes upon our holy sanction, you have my permission to toss said obstruction off the ramparts, but do make sure it is directed at the people sieging us, that way it is put to some good use."
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6dfd9c No.28326
| Rolled 6, 72 = 78 (2d100) |
1/2 - Garrison duty! I am wasted in a maze of stone and brick! At least the raiding party has seen fit to include a "humble villager" in its ranks. Aelfwar will, with or without Man Raider's approval, head out with Sigismund >>28228 for the southeast, searching for ways around and out of the castle through the surrounding forests that would allow for either quick, surprising skirmishes against the approaching enemy or, if necessary, an escape route.
>+[Master Woodsman]
>>28314
>>28301
Name: Aelfwar Coenwulf
Age: 27
Speciality: Scout/Ranger
Rank: Order Servants - Hanwud Rangers
Background: Aelfwar was raised in the town of Elgerrie, several miles south of Castle Heilger. The Coenwulf clan were typically antagonistic to the Order, seeing them as heavyhanded thugs imposing antiquated values on villages that wanted nothing to do with them. But when news of the Wild King began popping up, Aelfwar knew the only hope of protecting his kin from the King's onslaught was with the Order.
So he slipped out one night, entering the Castle as a recruit. His training was brief and far from thorough, but the Order was already hard-pressed for willing volunteers. They slated him for service in the Hanwud Rangers, traditionally stationed to guard the forests around the castle, but now recalled within its walls on reserve duty. Though the ideals of the Order and its Hero are foreign to him, he knows the universal values: his home, his clan and his gods. They shall guide him through these dark times, an inspiration in the encroaching darkness.
Grit: 2
Speciality: Ranger
Armaments: Poor Hunting Bow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Hard Leather Armor, Dagger, Poor Hatchet, Poor Shield
Bonus: [Master Woodsman] +10 to all hunting and foraging rolls
[Great Resilience] You heal injuries at an accelerated rate [Half Time]
Negative: [Pagan Heathen] - You cannot roll Divine Successes
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6dfd9c No.28327
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6dfd9c No.28333
| Rolled 10, 36 = 46 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger
–
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
15 Swampling raiders
25 Swampling Misc.
20 Knights of the Matyr
5 Order Servants
35 Peasant Hunters
25 Peasant Misc.
–Actions—
1. Dalmador is reading 'the histories of grooming' in his bunk when the order comes down. His aide – a small boy named Lukacs – gives him the note and slinks away before Dalmador complains about his hair. "Orders.. orders… SWAMPLINGS? IN MY GATEHOUSE? THEY'RE NOT UP THE GROOMING STANDARD!" [Enforce the grooming standard on the garrison]
2. Dalmador then attempts to get his new assigned soldiers into shape. He's not pleased: he's trained in shock tactics and he's been assigned to garrison. His general mood about this decision is, in a word, not good. Eventually he opts to avoid training the bowmen and other ranged fighters for now, and instead opts to make a once over of the incoming refugees: some of them look strong and capable enough to handle an axe. If you can hold an axe, it's a start for a fine career as infantry. [Draft from the refugees into fighting formations: find anyone good in close combat]
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6dfd9c No.28335
Name: Archimetus
Age: 67
Speciality: Engineer
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: The fourth-born son of minor count, Archimetus did not have many prospects in terms of nobility. Low in stature and a lack of social graces clung to him at every banquet, ruining him for the court. And indeed, nature itself deemed him too weak to do battle. However, for these faults, he was given an intellect like none other. He learned himself adept at many mathematics, and soon applied himself further into more practical fields. Denied any glory or land for himself, he joined the Order of the Martyr to seek his own glory. There, he learned a large knowledge of mechanics, sieging, tunneling, contraptions and traps, and by 45 he was the Chief Engineer of the Martyrs.
A master of machines, architecture, contraptions and traps, Archimetus may be an odd man, but he is indeed a useful one
Grit: 3
-Bonus: Mechanical Genius
-Negative: Scrawny and weak
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6dfd9c No.28336
>>28335
Only a Mechanical Genius could devise something like this. ARCHIMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETUUUUUUS
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6dfd9c No.28337
>>28335
[Archimetus Goldberg]
Speciality: Engineer
Armaments: Mail Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword
Bonus: [Mechanical Genuis] +5 to all construction rolls
Negative: [Scrawny] -5 to all athletic rolls
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6dfd9c No.28338
| Rolled 77, 32 = 109 (2d100) |
Name: Siegward
Age: 30
Speciality: Sentinel
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Siegward appeared at the gates of Castle Heilger a decade ago with his fathers sigil on a letter of assignment in one hand and his favoured weapon in the other. Since joining the order Siegward has spent his days training and nights watching the walls and waiting for opponents to prove himself against. Thanks to his attitude and inability to speak Siegward is widely regarded as the weirdo on the wall by his compatriots and while they wouldn't betray him outright they would be very unlikely of endangering themselves beyond their duty for his benefit. If he could talk Siegward would still be a man of few words as he only holds respect for those that stay true to their duty and would rather let his convictions speak for who he is.
Armaments: Fine Guisarme, Fine Half-Plate, Fine Longword, Fine Dagger
Grit: 2
-Bonus: [Master of Pole-arms] +10 to all pole-arm rolls
[Hawk-eye] +10 to all perception rolls
[Unnatural Reflexes] At the start of each combat roll a D6. On a 6 all opponents have -10 to their rolls
-Negative: [Mute] Good luck screaming for help
[Comrade only in name] If you get yourself stuck it’s unlikely anyone is coming to save you
As with every day Siegward engages in his morning exercises then moves to the Gatehouse as a decade spent there has made him a fixture of the location lacking a need to volunteer.
1. As is required to keep to the standards of the military Siegward begins his day with a general athletic training menu
2. Resting with his breakfast Siegward spends the rest of his morning monitoring the peasants at the gates searching for any that appear to be troublemakers or not local to the region
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6dfd9c No.28339
| Rolled 88, 60 = 148 (2d100) |
>>28258
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings
1. Appropriate a good shield from the armory. If Marius is to hold the line then he needs to be prepared for anything.
2. Catch a few hours of rest. While some may lambast him for slumbering during the day, he reminds them that it's likely that he's going to be fighting ALL NIGHT.
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6dfd9c No.28340
| Rolled 97, 81 + 5 = 183 (2d100) |
Name: Archimetus
Age: 67
Speciality: Engineer
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: The fourth-born son of minor count, Archimetus did not have many prospects in terms of nobility. Low in stature and a lack of social graces clung to him at every banquet, ruining him for the court. And indeed, nature itself deemed him too weak to do battle. However, for these faults, he was given an intellect like none other. He learned himself adept at many mathematics, and soon applied himself further into more practical fields. Denied any glory or land for himself, he joined the Order of the Martyr to seek his own glory. There, he learned a large knowledge of mechanics, sieging, tunneling, contraptions and traps, and by 45 he was the Chief Engineer of the Martyrs.
A master of machines, architecture, contraptions and traps, Archimetus may be an odd man, but he is indeed a useful one
Grit: 3
Bonus: [Mechanical Genuis] +5 to all construction rolls
Negative: [Scrawny] -5 to all athletic rolls
1. With a few ideas of mechanical mischief in his head, Archimetus goes down to the forge and begins constructing a large amount of metal spikes.
2. Then he goes down to his drafting room and begins designing a large, swiveling Scorpion-style ballista
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6dfd9c No.28342
| Rolled 33, 57 = 90 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
Armaments: Fine Bone Club, Poor Bone Armor, Poor Hunting Bow, 12 Iron Wooden Arrows, Quiver
Troops: 50 Warriors, 150 Misc Swamplings
1. 50 warriors?
I have more than 50 Swamplings here. I've got young men and boys and men old enough to stand. If they can't hold an axe or a spear, they'll learn how to draw bows.
We're going to live or die here and if we die here everyone is going to kill one or more.
>Train Archers out of those unfit for being a warrior but strong enough to hold and draw a bow
2. If you can't fight, you're going to help those who can fight. Start making bows and arrows.
In the swamp we learned how to dry sinew to weave into bowstrings and make arrow shafts and shards out of bone. Now we've got a castle, an armory, and all the supplies we'll need.
>Get the Misc Swamplings to start churning bows and arrows
>especially the elderly or young who still have use of their hands but can't hold a bow or arrow
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6dfd9c No.28343
| Rolled 93, 45 = 138 (2d100) |
>>28301
Name: Malachai Springhill
Age: 23
Speciality: Fencing Fop
Rank: [Knights of the Martyr]
Background: Born ninth child and sixth son to Count Edward Springhill, Malchai was always a troublesome child from birth. He cried often had a ravenous appetite, kept his parents and siblings up often and early. This is not even mentioning the sheer drain of resources he was as a sixth son and ninth child over all.
Malachai's upbringing was odd. The family was bordering on destitute for nobility and his tutors when not part of the family were cut rate at best, thieves at worst. As such he did rather poorly in most of his classes, excepting swordplay which he took to quickly and gracefully. This lead to him causing trouble everywhere poking people with sticks and "practicing" his swordplay on his sister's dresses and more. Despite all this Malachai grew up into relatively decent young man. Sadly it was not to last.
One night as Malachai was out on the town we ran afoul of the eldest son of Duke Brownhill. What started as a series of veiled insults quickly degenerated into general enmity. Malachai was thrown out of the bad they were at and left. Later as he was making his way through the city he was jumped by several of Brownhill's sycophants. Malachai dispatched them quickly in a series of duels in full view of several guardsmen. Several of the sycophants were sons of other noble houses and died as a result of the duels. Thus Malachai found himself politicked out of his home and into the knights of the Martyr by Brownhill.
Grit: 3
Armaments: Fine Rapier, Soft Leather Armor, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Swordmaster] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Fast] You always attack first
Negative: [Political Enemy] Someone in the order has been paid a lot of money to ensure your downfall
[Hot Tempered] You cannot pass on a direct challenge
1. Go through my monirng warm up and practice routine for my blade.
+Blademaster
2. Drill some of the newer knights and more promising peasants, servants and anyone else who looks like they might make good fighters. In fact since the old shit Dalmador's idea of training is yelling at people until they do it right, make a point to show them. Granted I'm the best with my sword, but I have the general idea of most other weapons and can make them realize the importance of keeping balanced in a fight.
+Blademaster?
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6dfd9c No.28345
>>28342
>>28314
>NOTE:
Please change either action (or both) to LEADING THE RAIDING PARTY
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6dfd9c No.28346
>>28340
A raven arrives for Archimetus, bearing the seal of the Knight-Steward
"You have full command of the civilians of the castle to assist you in the matters of shoring up our defenses for the siege."
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6dfd9c No.28347
A bugle call is heard, signalling a message from the Knight-Steward
"Any man already not committed to their duty is ordered to scout the passes around the gate house and the Castle to ensure that there is no means through which the castle and gatehouse can be surrounded and flanked."
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6dfd9c No.28348
^^^^^^
READ THIS ALL UNPOSTED PLAYERS
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6dfd9c No.28349
| Rolled 89, 91 + 5 = 185 (2d100) |
>>28347
Ah yes, that won't do at all.
See, I have a letter here from the Knight-Steward pertificating towards me that I have control of all civilians, yes. For the construction of defenses, yes.
So, yes, you may have the soldiers, but I may have all the civilians, yes.
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6dfd9c No.28350
| Rolled 80, 76 = 156 (2d100) |
>>28301
>>28314
>>28326
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet:
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; Head with Aelfwar and spread out from the main party to look for tactful and best spots for ambushes and escape routes. If we can, try to determine whether they have castle crashers and whether we can take them out now before they get to the gatehouse.
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6dfd9c No.28351
>>28340
>>28349
As Sigismund meets up and heads out with Aelfwar, he notices a man ordering peasants around. What catches his eye is his attire and tools, signifying him as a blacksmith or some sort of engineer. Telling Aelfwar he'll catch up, he heads to the man and draws his attention. "You look like Blacksmith, yes? Was wondering if you make better shield for me. Mein is poor craftsmanship from greedy noble during last job, not very good at all. Need shield to deflect blows and arrows. Willing to work or do task, if want."
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6dfd9c No.28352
| Rolled 35, 78 + 5 = 118 (2d100) |
>>28351
Ah yes, I am not blacksmith, you indignant! I am an engineer of utmost architecture and contraption! Yes, I am not a simple man of crafting for you to cuttle about like a scum-alley whore. So indeed, I find it indeed rude you refer to me as 'blacksmith'
But, yes, we are all brothers of martyr here, so I shall make you a better shield
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6dfd9c No.28353
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6dfd9c No.28354
Day 1 Turn 1
Calm before the storm
>>28303
1/2. [Major Success] The forces of the Wild King march down the southern road with two raider bands of 40 darklings each scouting the way. The main body of the force standing at around 600 darklings and 1 massive Darkwood Walker seem to lend by a slender female Shadowkin move confidently towards the castle seemingly certain at the ease of this undertaking.
[Shadowkin are humans who have devoted themselves to the Wild King trading away their souls for supernatural powers]
>>28318
1. [Minor Success] You pray in the Crypt of the Hero, a serene calmness has fallen upon you. The New Gods watch over you in this time of need and you will lead your men to victory [Morale: Serene +5 all rolls for 4 turns or till shaken]
2. [Minor Success] There is come good news and some bad news, while the walls seems fine the castle gate is in dire need of replacement as the wood has rotted in many places and surely would not last long under siege.
>>28321
1. [Major Success] You mingle with the peasant hunters who are understandably nervous but you manage to help ease their worries. All of them are armed with at least a poor hunters bow and some sort of improvised close combat weapon, while not all are professional hunters most have at least a passing skill with the bow [Peasant Hunters Morale: High]
2. [Minor Failure] Unfortunately you are not able to find anything to hunt close to the castle and are loath to go too farm away from the gatehouse.
>>28322
1-2.[Major Success] Pit traps are dug outside of the gatehouse, though some men doubt their effectiveness you are sure you might get at least a few of the buggers
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6dfd9c No.28355
>>28326
1-2. [Moderate Success] The mountain is rugged, barren and almost completely lifeless, once you get into the forests of the gatehouse you make note of various points you could use for ambushes and the likes. If you want to do anything of the likes you should set it up now as the day is almost halfway through.
>>28333
1. [Major Failure] You begin to berate the Swamplings on their poor hygiene and lack of discipline. While in the middle of your long winded rant a swampling spits in your face and tells you to “politely” fuck off you northern son of a whore. [Swampling Morale: Abysmal]
2. [Minor Success] The peasants are more willingly as the hope into formation as you come down on them with a torrent of verbal abuse. They might be more scared of you then the enemy at this point [Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
>>28338
1. [Moderate Success] You limber up your body using a routine that has remained the one true constant in your life [Status: Warmed Up +5 to all rolls till end of day]
2. [Minor Success] The peasants seem fairly mundane, though they may just be on their best behaviour because of Dalmador’s drills
>>28339
1. [Major Success] The armorer a man by the Arnest is more then happy to give a shield to a man of your status [Choose Fine Tower Shield or Fine Kite Shield]
2.[Moderate Success] You sneak of to an area you don’t think Dalmador will check and hunker down to get some sleep before the coming battle.
>>28340
1. [Critical Success] With the help of the blacksmith you manage to churn out an impressive amount of iron spikes using only scraps left over from several other projects +[100 Iron Spikes]
2. [Major Success] The design is done with ease though the creation of a Scorpion would cut into the castles small supply of lumber.
>>28343
1. [Critical Success] What a wonderful morning! You must be on the top of your game today! [Status: Frickin Pumped +10 to all rolls today]
2. [Minor Success] Though the other knights don’t much need your help you made an impact on a few of the order servants who gladly take some pointers from you [Order Servants Morale: Moderate]
>>28342
1-2. [Minor Success] You lead out your Swampling raiders into the forest at the behest of the Knight-Steward you are uneasy of this plan but you will respect his orders. When you head out you meet with a Order Servant Aelfwar and a strange northerner Sigismund, they have apparently have scouted the forest and mapped out several spots you could use to stage an ambush. The forest is quite thick varied so almost any idea will do as long as they can lead to a suitable spot.
>>28350
1-2.[Major Success] You head out with Aelfwar helping him scout out the forest below the gatehouse. After memorizing the best spots for ambushes you are sure you can pull off a pretty decent ambush as long as things go as planned.
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6dfd9c No.28356
>>28355
WARNING: THERE ARE NO MAKE UP TURNS
MEN LIVE OR DIE ON YOUR WATCH
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6dfd9c No.28357
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6dfd9c No.28359
>>28348
A servant approaches Bran as he inspects the defenses.
"Erm, excuse me? Knight-Steward Bran, sir? I have a message for you, from Knight-Sorcerer Crovetius." He clears his throat.
"Knight-Steward - I have observed the darklings' lines, and have gained a good deal of information about them. Ultimately, it is up to you to decide what to do with this information, of course. The force is a midsize battalion, with 680 darklings, a Darkwood Walker, and a female Shadowkin, their leader. The battalion is split into three bodies. The main force is 600 darklings in formation with the Walker and the Shadowkin. The other 80 darklings are split into two scout groups, each consisting of 40 men. These scout groups have been assigned dual duties as raiders and as scouts.
I am going to recall Stella back to the castle, but I have a recommendation on how to take advantage of our new intelligence. I know that you have some men scouting out the surrounding area, and I believe that we could send them a message, with Stella, instructing them to commence guerilla operations against one or both of the 40 darkling strong raiding parties. Though the darklings have numerical superiority over our forces, we hold the element of surprise, and could lay traps, block their path with trees, or simply attack them, for we have superior soldiers. By depriving their army of specialized scout units, we would blind them to our operations beyond their immediate surroundings, giving us a massive advantage. Of course, the final decision is up to you, as Knight-Steward of the Order. I await your instructions, and am prepared to send Stella out again, to deliver a message to the scouts, should it be requested."
The servant indicates that the message is finished, and stands at attention, prepared to bring Sir Bran's orders to Sir Crovetius.
[I'll wait for your orders before I take any action.]
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6dfd9c No.28360
>>28359
The knight-steward Approaches Sir Crovetius in his study, a pleased look on his face,
"Well done Knight-Sorcerer, well done." He turns to the owl perched near the older man, tossing her a giblet, "And well done to you too, miss Stella. Now, Sir Crovetius, I would like you to carry on sending stella out at once with details of the enemy force to our raiding party already out in the field, after that, you may do as you wish."
>>28340
After this, The Knight-Steward seeks out the Castle Engineer. "The Castle needs a new gate, the one we have is rotting and falling to pieces. As the Castle Engineer, I am putting you in charge of its reconstruction."
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6dfd9c No.28361
>>28360
Yes, indeed sir, yes. I shall get to it when I can
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6dfd9c No.28362
| Rolled 96, 54 = 150 (2d100) |
>>28354
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
1. I've heard stirrings of conflict in the Gatehouse, this cannot do, our first line of defense must stand united, or we shall not make it past the first night of this siege. I'll shall head the the gate house and sort this matter out myself.
[Morale: Serene +5 all rolls for 4 turns or till shaken]
2. While I'm down there, I shall survey the defenses of the gatehouse as well.
[Morale: Serene +5 all rolls for 4 turns or till shaken]
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6dfd9c No.28363
| Rolled 89, 63 = 152 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger
–
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
15 Swampling raiders
25 Swampling Misc.
20 Knights of the Matyr
5 Order Servants
35 Peasant Hunters
25 Peasant Misc.
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Abysmal]
–Actions—
1. Dalmador pauses for a moment as the spit dribbles down his face. There is a pause as his removes his gauntlet, wipes it off with is leather glove, and then flicks it away. He does not break eye contact. For a moment it appears Dalmdaor would remain calm, but in a half second his face turns as red as a tomato: a world of folds and creases earned by years of incidents not terribly unfamiliar from this one similarly appear. It is frightening. "SPITTING IS A VIOLATION OF THE HYGIENE STANDARD YOU BOGFUCKING PUKE! THAT'S EVEN WORSE THAN THE GROOMING STANDARD!! YOU SHIT! IT SPREADS ILL SPIRITS! YOU FUCK!" [Punch him in the stomach with full force with gauntlet on and then shave his beard if he has one. Order must be enforced.] [+Scary] [Grooming Standard: Global]
2. After the incident Dalmador spends some time cutting his hair in a nightly ritual-of-sorts. The ritual is held at the exact time every night and everyone sets their clock to it: no mater what happens you can find him doing this.. [Grooming Standard: Personal]
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6dfd9c No.28364
| Rolled 46, 33 = 79 (2d100) |
1/2 - Aelfwar sets lookouts and redoubts at various points along the mountainside forests, both to espy oncoming soldiers and serve as ambush points should the need come. Once he has some set up, he returns to the Castle to inform the Knight-Steward of his efforts, pointing out the various places they could strike from.
>>28355
Name: Aelfwar Coenwulf
Age: 27
Speciality: Scout/Ranger
Rank: Order Servants - Hanwud Rangers
Background: Aelfwar was raised in the town of Elgerrie, several miles south of Castle Heilger. The Coenwulf clan were typically antagonistic to the Order, seeing them as heavyhanded thugs imposing antiquated values on villages that wanted nothing to do with them. But when news of the Wild King began popping up, Aelfwar knew the only hope of protecting his kin from the King's onslaught was with the Order.
So he slipped out one night, entering the Castle as a recruit. His training was brief and far from thorough, but the Order was already hard-pressed for willing volunteers. They slated him for service in the Hanwud Rangers, traditionally stationed to guard the forests around the castle, but now recalled within its walls on reserve duty. Though the ideals of the Order and its Hero are foreign to him, he knows the universal values: his home, his clan and his gods. They shall guide him through these dark times, an inspiration in the encroaching darkness.
Grit: 2
Speciality: Ranger
Armaments: Poor Hunting Bow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Hard Leather Armor, Dagger, Poor Hatchet, Poor Shield
Bonus: [Master Woodsman] +10 to all hunting and foraging rolls
[Great Resilience] You heal injuries at an accelerated rate [Half Time]
Negative: [Pagan Heathen] - You cannot roll Divine Successes
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6dfd9c No.28365
>>28364
Ordnon please read Bazrael1's commands and turn action. You may redo your actions if you would like.
>>28355
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6dfd9c No.28366
| Rolled 786, 867 = 1653 (2d1000) |
>>28257
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion]
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. Hunting the hunters had been Sylvan's specialty for quite some time now, though he wasn't all too certain whether a Darkling could be classified as a beast. While they were certainly not human he had never met one up close.
Either way the scouting parties should prove to have leaders of their own. While he would keep himself in the background Sylvan would be sure to take shots at the scouting group's apparent leader. Once that had been settled he would keep some distance trying to spot any Darklings which could try to run off and inform the main forces, taking them down with bow, arrow or any other means necessary.
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6dfd9c No.28367
| Rolled 98, 7 = 105 (2d100) |
>>28366
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6dfd9c No.28368
| Rolled 72, 52 = 124 (2d100) |
>>28355
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings
1. Continue resting.
2. Once Marius wakes, he strides from his resting place and proceeds to memorize weak points in the defenses, possible ambush routes on the walls, and other areas of tactical interest. He picks the spot most likely to come under manual siege and stands there as the sun falls.
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6dfd9c No.28369
| Rolled 79, 62 = 141 (2d100) |
>>28354
Name: Grigoric Urlfurlson
Age: 33
Speciality: Archer
Armaments: Fine Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Brigandine Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: The Order Servants are the lowest of the Order, but not without their own honour and inner rankings. As a young teen, Grigoric showed phenomenal talent during the animal hunts when serving as a squire to the late Lord Urlfurl. Impressed by his accuracy and discipline, Urlfurl initiated the necessary procedures to allow Grigoric to train as a Knight of the Martyr. Now, many years later, Grigoric is well known as a very loyal Knight who has taken on the name of his savior to bring glory to both it and the church.
Bonus: [Master Archer] +10 to all archery rolls
Negative: [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of noble blood
1. This hunt is a waste. Return to the castle, set the Peasants practicing their archery.
2. A midday nap is a fine thing to have.
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6dfd9c No.28372
| Rolled 11, 62 = 73 (2d100) |
>>28355
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet:
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1; Getting help from swamp tribals, set up traps throughout the forest
2; Take a nap with Adolf under a tree. Need to rest and get acclimated to this forest.
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6dfd9c No.28373
| Rolled 89, 83 = 172 (2d100) |
>>28355
Name: Siegward
Age: 30
Speciality: Sentinel
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Siegward appeared at the gates of Castle Heilger a decade ago with his fathers sigil on a letter of assignment in one hand and his favoured weapon in the other. Since joining the order Siegward has spent his days training and nights watching the walls and waiting for opponents to prove himself against. Thanks to his attitude and inability to speak Siegward is widely regarded as the weirdo on the wall by his compatriots and while they wouldn't betray him outright they would be very unlikely of endangering themselves beyond their duty for his benefit. If he could talk Siegward would still be a man of few words as he only holds respect for those that stay true to their duty and would rather let his convictions speak for who he is.
Armaments: Fine Guisarme, Fine Half-Plate, Fine Longword, Fine Dagger
Grit: 2
-Bonus: [Master of Pole-arms] +10 to all pole-arm rolls
[Hawk-eye] +10 to all perception rolls
[Unnatural Reflexes] At the start of each combat roll a D6. On a 6 all opponents have -10 to their rolls
-Negative: [Mute] Good luck screaming for help
[Comrade only in name] If you get yourself stuck it’s unlikely anyone is coming to save you
Warmed up +5 to all rolls
The crowd seems to be in good order so Siegward begins preparing for the oncoming battle
1. Siegward looks for a small to mid-sized shield in the armoury to keep at the ready for use with his backup weapon and protect against any kind of ranged assault during the engagement
2. Siegward starts getting ready for the battle by going over all his gear and ensuring everything is in good condition checking for any damage to his armour and sharpening his weapons
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6dfd9c No.28374
| Rolled 57, 95 = 152 (2d100) |
>>28355
Age: 23
Speciality: Fencing Fop
Rank: [Knights of the Martyr]
Background: Born ninth child and sixth son to Count Edward Springhill, Malchai was always a troublesome child from birth. He cried often had a ravenous appetite, kept his parents and siblings up often and early. This is not even mentioning the sheer drain of resources he was as a sixth son and ninth child over all.
Malachai's upbringing was odd. The family was bordering on destitute for nobility and his tutors when not part of the family were cut rate at best, thieves at worst. As such he did rather poorly in most of his classes, excepting swordplay which he took to quickly and gracefully. This lead to him causing trouble everywhere poking people with sticks and "practicing" his swordplay on his sister's dresses and more. Despite all this Malachai grew up into relatively decent young man. Sadly it was not to last.
One night as Malachai was out on the town we ran afoul of the eldest son of Duke Brownhill. What started as a series of veiled insults quickly degenerated into general enmity. Malachai was thrown out of the bad they were at and left. Later as he was making his way through the city he was jumped by several of Brownhill's sycophants. Malachai dispatched them quickly in a series of duels in full view of several guardsmen. Several of the sycophants were sons of other noble houses and died as a result of the duels. Thus Malachai found himself politicked out of his home and into the knights of the Martyr by Brownhill.
Grit: 3
Armaments: Fine Rapier, Soft Leather Armor, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Swordmaster] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Fast] You always attack first
Negative: [Political Enemy] Someone in the order has been paid a lot of money to ensure your downfall
[Hot Tempered] You cannot pass on a direct challenge
[Status: Frickin Pumped +10 to all rolls today]
1. Well Time to walk around the castle and make sure there are not any holes around the castle. Given how this was considered the ruddy bum of the civilized lands and orders I expect to find several. The "noble" and "wise" lords haven't given this place it's due in a loooong time. Bloody ingrates.
+Frickin pumped!
2. More drills for anyone who needs them. We're getting combat soon and I'd to make sure everyone knows which end of the sword, axe, spear, or mace to hold.
+Swordmaster
+Frickin pumped
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6dfd9c No.28375
| Rolled 99, 50 = 149 (2d100) |
>>28365
>>28364
I'll change my actions, then.
1/2 - That done, Aelfwar returns to the Gatehouse, there to see the blacksmith. A rusty dagger and a wooden board for a shield? These he could stand. But a near-useless hunting bow? He's a ranger for heavens' sake, he ought to have a weapon that fits the title.
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6dfd9c No.28377
| Rolled 52, 31 = 83 (2d100) |
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness
1.2. Taking a quick nap before resuming work. Armian continues digging out pits and holes throughout the approach to the gatehouse.
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6dfd9c No.28378
| Rolled 5, 53 = 58 (2d100) |
>>28360
Sir Crovetius smiles in the general direction of the Knight-Steward. "Right away, sir!" As soon as Bran departs, he bellows: "Hasruphel!" A servant rushes in. "Take down a message for Stella."
>>28354
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 2
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 5
Magic Bolt: 5
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2.
>>28208
>>28216
>>28220
>>28225
>>28228
"Raiding Party - Enemy raiders/scouts operating in your area. 2 units, 40 darklings strong. Main force 600 strong, 1 darkwood walker, 1 shadowkin leader. No commands from KSt Bran, operate on new intel as you please. Recommending incapacitation or destruction of one or both scout parties. Signed, KSo Crovetius."
Sir Crovetius bids farewell to his owl once again, and sends her out to look for the allied raiding parties and deliver her message, while keeping an eye out for any additional details which could aid in the defense of the castle.
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6dfd9c No.28383
>>28378
>>28355
Sigismund's eyes open up without a startle and he stares at the White Owl before noticing a little note on his leg. He unfurls the note and reads it before standing up and collecting his gear. Handing the note back to the owl he says, "Thanks you, mein Avian freund. Go back to your master now." Sigismund stretches a bit before noticing the time and heads back to base.
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6dfd9c No.28390
| Rolled 52, 97 + 5 = 154 (2d100) |
>>28355
Name: Archimetus
Age: 67
Speciality: Engineer
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: The fourth-born son of minor count, Archimetus did not have many prospects in terms of nobility. Low in stature and a lack of social graces clung to him at every banquet, ruining him for the court. And indeed, nature itself deemed him too weak to do battle. However, for these faults, he was given an intellect like none other. He learned himself adept at many mathematics, and soon applied himself further into more practical fields. Denied any glory or land for himself, he joined the Order of the Martyr to seek his own glory. There, he learned a large knowledge of mechanics, sieging, tunneling, contraptions and traps, and by 45 he was the Chief Engineer of the Martyrs.
A master of machines, architecture, contraptions and traps, Archimetus may be an odd man, but he is indeed a useful one
Grit: 3
Bonus: [Mechanical Genuis] +5 to all construction rolls
Negative: [Scrawny] -5 to all athletic rolls
1. Build and install a new gate for the gatehouse
2. At the gatehouse, install a ballista on the rampart between the two towers on the third and second floor
>>28342
Ah yes, you there. Archer man. As Chief Engineer, I am comandeering you for an important task
There are holes dug outside the gate house, I need you to take these metal spikes and plant them in the ground.
This is a necessity, yes.
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6dfd9c No.28400
>>28390
Addendum:
For first action, instead of gatehouse its the castle itself
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6dfd9c No.28415
>>28203
Name: Gnupa Bjartmarsson
Age: 25
Speciality: Heavy infantry/Berserker
Rank: Visitor
Background: Hailing from the outskirts of Majewl, The first born son of Jarl Sigfast Bjartmarsson, Gnupa Bjartmarsson, ordered by his father, has called upon Battle-hardened men to answer the call of the order. This will be Gnupa's first test, as his personal goal is to appease the old gods through war, valor and the skulls of his enemies.
Gnupa, blessed by his seiðmenn, has taken up arms and sailed with his Brethren to seek a good fight and and a great trophy to mount in his hall, and what greater fight is there then the one to the death against the greatest enemy of man?
Grit: 2
-Bonus: Bloodlust, Heart of a warrior
-Negative: Impulsive
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6dfd9c No.28429
>>28415
[Gnupa Bjartmarsson]
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
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6dfd9c No.28430
>>28415
+Troops: 20 Huscarls
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6dfd9c No.28434
| Rolled 62, 9 = 71 (2d100) |
Name: Gnupa Bjartmarson
1.Me and my men shall march to the gate house signing battle chants.
2.We shall position ourselves on the battlements of the gatehouse where the fighting shall be the thickest.
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6dfd9c No.28435
| Rolled 38, 73 = 111 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
>>28378
>>28372
1-2. Working with the best of both plans, we will try to attack and lure the scouts into the prepared traps. For whatever they are worth.
But we must kill the scouts. Warriors, we know the swamp better than any of them!
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6dfd9c No.28437
>>28435
Actually on second thought this raid has gone on long enough and we DID get the info we needed.
High tail it back to the gatehouse. NOW.
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6dfd9c No.28440
Name: Aliet Noer
Age: 22
Speciality:Falconry Archery
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: Aliet was always fascinated with birds her whole life. She's always dreamt of one day taking flight with her winged companions and focused on becoming as close to possible with them as she could. So she decided she would take up the art of falconry in order to both be close to her favorite species as well as serve her home as a knight. Now with her large hawk Ròsperè she serves the wall to hold the keep.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: Falconry
-Negative: Anti Social
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6dfd9c No.28447
>>28362
1. [Critical Success] You head down the mountain road to the Gatehouse where you find everything seems to have been dealt with. The Swamplings seem even more alert ehn ever before and some are even in parade formation, maybe Dalmador has some use after all. The Knights appreciate having you checking on everything as some have their doubts about Dalmador’s “style” of command. [Knight Morale: High]
2. [Minor Success] You don’t see anything really wrong with the gatehouse, the foundation is cracked in some locations and a few of the chains are rusty but you doubt that will cause any problems.
>>28363
1. [Critical Success] The swift punch to the gut has surely taken the wind out of this swampling as you pin him down with your knee on his chest as you bark orders to a servant to grab you a shaving kit. Taking time to do a good job you manage to shave the squirming swampling who you think has started crying. You seem to have gathered quite a crowd who you bark at to get back too work! [Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
2. [Moderate Success] You head to your room touching up your appearance for it’s a poor commander who asks something of his men he does not do himself [Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
>>28364
1. [Minor Success] You return to the gatehouse with no problems making your way back up to the castle.
2.[Minor Failure] Once you head to the armory the quartermaster Arnest says you gotta have permission from the Knight-Steward if you want more gear.
>>28366
1. [Critical Success] You shadow the darkling scout through the forest picking them off at every turn, collecting arrows from the bodies you have made a great dent in their forces for just one man -20 Darkling Scouts -[Darkling Scouts Morale: Shaken]
2. [Major Failure] Eventually you miss a shot allowing a Darkling to make it back to the main force alerting of your tactics and a group of heavily armed Darklings and the Shadowkin woman begin to hunt for you.
>>28368
1. [Moderate Success] What a wonderful nap.
2. [Minor Success] Upon waking you make it towards the rampart where you are sure to be in thick of it when the time comes. Unfortunately you get a spot a little more exposed to arrows then the others where men already take cover. Still you would have to be quite unlucky to get hit.
>>28369
1. [Moderate Success] You make your way back to the castle without incident but it’s getting quite late and you don’t have time for more training.
2. [Moderate Success] You take to your bunk as the sun sets over the castle.
>>28373
1. [Major Success] You manage to acquire a [Fine Kite Shield] from the armoury.
2. [Major Success] You sharpen your Guisarme and polish your half-plate, you are ready for the bloodshed to come. [Status: Calm: +10 to first roll]
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6dfd9c No.28448
>>28374
1. [Moderate Success] You take a quick peak around castle walls and there don’t seem to be any huge flaws besides the rotting gate, you do however wonder at the eastern side of the castle which sags ever so slightly below the western.
2. [Critical Success] Drills are had and the peasants really have taken your teachings to heart and may truly be able to help in the coming battle [Revise: 300 Peasant Misc to 250 Peasant misc. 50 Peasant Militia]
>>28377
1-2.[ Moderate Success] You take a nap before the siege is to begin
>>28378
1-2. [Minor Success] Stella delivers the message to all outside the castle.
>>28383
1. [Moderate Failure] Trap making goes poorly as the swamplings are terrible at forest-craft and you have little experience in it yourself.
2. [Moderate Success] You make it safely back to the gatehouse, good thing you didn’t send the night out there it could have gone poorly.
>>28434
1. [Moderate Success] Your men begin their chants pumping themselves up for the coming battle [Huscarls Morale: PUMPED]
2. [Major Failure] When you arrive at the gatehouse the commander places you front and centre on the battlements so when the battle starts you are arranged to take the first barrage of arrows.
>>28435
1. [Minor Failure] The ambush on the scouts goes poorly as a false start gives away your position though you manage to disengage without too many causalities [-5 Swampling Warriors]
2.[Moderate Success] You make it back to the gatehouse just as they are about to shut it, you doubt these northerners had much faith in you at all.
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6dfd9c No.28449
>>28448
Day 1 Turn 2
Hello darkness my old friend
The Darklings swarm at the edge of the forest crafting crude makeshift ladders to scale the walls of the gatehouse. The Shadowkin is no where to be seen though the Darkwood walker seems to have grabbed a tree to use as a club though you are unsure how it is planning to assault the gatehouse.
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6dfd9c No.28450
>>28440
[Aliet Noer]
Speciality: Falconer
Armaments: Fine Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Fine Mail Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Falcon 'Rospere'
Bonus: [Falconry] +10 to all falconery rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
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6dfd9c No.28452
>>28390
1. [Minor Success] With help of the peasants you begin to build a new gate 1/4
2. [Critical Success] Well thank god you had all these spare parts lying around, wasn’t that lucky. Quickly you have the peasants haul it down setting it up the gatehouse. You better be careful you only have 5 shots. +[Ballista Gatehouse: 5 shots]
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6dfd9c No.28457
| Rolled 68, 2 = 70 (2d100) |
>>28448
Age: 23
Specialty: Fencing Fop
Rank: [Knights of the Martyr]
Background: Born ninth child and sixth son to Count Edward Springhill, Malchai was always a troublesome child from birth. He cried often had a ravenous appetite, kept his parents and siblings up often and early. This is not even mentioning the sheer drain of resources he was as a sixth son and ninth child over all.
Malachai's upbringing was odd. The family was bordering on destitute for nobility and his tutors when not part of the family were cut rate at best, thieves at worst. As such he did rather poorly in most of his classes, excepting swordplay which he took to quickly and gracefully. This lead to him causing trouble everywhere poking people with sticks and "practicing" his swordplay on his sister's dresses and more. Despite all this Malachai grew up into relatively decent young man. Sadly it was not to last.
One night as Malachai was out on the town we ran afoul of the eldest son of Duke Brownhill. What started as a series of veiled insults quickly degenerated into general enmity. Malachai was thrown out of the bad they were at and left. Later as he was making his way through the city he was jumped by several of Brownhill's sycophants. Malachai dispatched them quickly in a series of duels in full view of several guardsmen. Several of the sycophants were sons of other noble houses and died as a result of the duels. Thus Malachai found himself politicked out of his home and into the knights of the Martyr by Brownhill.
Grit: 3
Armaments: Fine Rapier, Soft Leather Armor, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Swordmaster] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Fast] You always attack first
Negative: [Political Enemy] Someone in the order has been paid a lot of money to ensure your downfall
[Hot Tempered] You cannot pass on a direct challenge
[Status: Frickin Pumped +10 to all rolls today]
1. Set up a watch for the night since Our Lord commander is at the gatehouse. Special attention to the sagging east side. I'm no builder but that is definitely not good. Castles shouldn't sag like an old woman's chest.
+Frickin Pumped
2. Take a detachment of men and head towards the gatehouse. Best to stop them there now than deal with all the damage they could do at the castle proper. We'll stop them now and make them pay.
+Frickin Pumped
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6dfd9c No.28458
>>28457
Grit point on action 2.
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6dfd9c No.28462
| Rolled 81, 35 + 5 = 121 (2d100) |
>>28447
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
1. The lord commander looks down upon the force gathered before the gatehouse, as the little worms stride to and fro to make crude ladders to assail the keep. He looks to his men, they are ready.
He draws in a quick breathe and bellows: "RAISE THE DRAWBRIDGE! HEAVY INFANTRY UP FRONT, PIKES BEHIND, ARCHERS IN BACK! I WANT 4 MEN EACH TO THE ARROW SLITS WE HAVE IN THE TOWERS ARCHERS, FIRE AT WILL!" he turns to face the men arrayed near him, "If you have a shield, best put it to the sky so you don't catch a arrow to the throat. If one of those dribbling cunts puts a ladder in your face, push it back down so the bastards fall to the abyss, if you can't, then steel yourself and prepare to cut down the bastards as they come up. and for the gods' sake, someone kill that fucking giant before he breaks the gate down."
He turns to face all the soldiers on the top level of the gate house,
"BY THE OLD GODS AND THE NEW, ==THEY!==
==SHALL!== ==NOT!== ==PASS!=="
+ Morale: Serene +5 all rolls for 4 turns or till shaken]
2. His orders now given, he takes place near one of the battlements, ready for war.
+ Morale: Serene +5 all rolls for 4 turns or till shaken]
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6dfd9c No.28464
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 12, 88 = 100 (2d100) |
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6dfd9c No.28465
| Rolled 80, 42 = 122 (2d100) |
>>28448
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet:
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1; Direct Adolf to find me something good from the castle
2; That beastie is leaving himself wiiide open. Better get some more arrows and shoot it down before it starts doing what I think it will with those trees
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6dfd9c No.28466
| Rolled 90, 28 + 5 = 123 (2d100) |
>>28452
>Name: Archimetus
>Age: 67
>Speciality: Engineer
>Rank: Knight of the Martyr
>Background: The fourth-born son of minor count, Archimetus did not have many prospects in terms of nobility. Low in stature and a lack of social graces clung to him at every banquet, ruining him for the court. And indeed, nature itself deemed him too weak to do battle. However, for these faults, he was given an intellect like none other. He learned himself adept at many mathematics, and soon applied himself further into more practical fields. Denied any glory or land for himself, he joined the Order of the Martyr to seek his own glory. There, he learned a large knowledge of mechanics, sieging, tunneling, contraptions and traps, and by 45 he was the Chief Engineer of the Martyrs.
>A master of machines, architecture, contraptions and traps, Archimetus may be an odd man, but he is indeed a useful one
>Grit: 3
>Bonus: [Mechanical Genuis] +5 to all construction rolls
>Negative: [Scrawny] -5 to all athletic rolls
1. Keep building that new gate
2. At the gatehouse, smooth out the edges of the exterior to make it more difficult for ladders to be placed
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6dfd9c No.28467
| Rolled 5, 36 = 41 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger
–
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
15 Swampling raiders
25 Swampling Misc.
20 Knights of the Martyr
5 Order Servants
35 Peasant Hunters
25 Peasant Misc.
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
–Actions—
1. Dalmador looks out to the assembled siege force with a small spyglass he has borrowed from the engineers. The host, at least at this distance, does not seem to large. Yet. It is only the spearpoint and a larger host will likely arrive with more proper instruments: aerial beasts, sappers, artillery. As such Dalmador sends a handful of his trusted men to listen for sappers that might be digging to undermine the wall. He also directs a few of his men to watch for aerial attackers and magical users of no small power that might maneuver unexpectedly. After yelling his directions for awhile, Dalmador settles in with his spyglass to count the enemy host – he has dispatched his squire Bingley to find any spell users in the castle that might be able to help him figure out what the host is composed of. [Survey for special enemy units → Prepare for unconventional attacks]
2. Dalmador, after utilizing the lackluster castle facilities, finds a few minutes to drag the local cleric to the gatehouse to bless his troops and himself. The cleric – a man named Michelson – has always been a coward and a man of weak faith. The fact that his facial hair was constantly in disarray also did little to enamor Dalmador to him. At this point a more sensitive person might consider the issue of the mixed faith of the men assembled. However, Dalmadaor doesn't really care if the swamplings are heathens – everyone must recognize death and the hereafter as a brute fact. [Find Michelson → Get the troops blessed] [+Scary]
—Gatehouse Communique—
A runner is sent to:
>>Marius Valjean, Aelfwar Coenwulf, Armian Shtai and Grigoric Urlfurlson.
The runner states. "The gatehouse commander is not convinced of a ladder based attack given that the enemy host is still relatively small. With that said, until something else is seen stand by to repel a standard latter attack. Gatehouse commander suspects this is a probe."
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6dfd9c No.28468
>>28447
Name: Siegward
Age: 30
Speciality: Sentinel
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Siegward appeared at the gates of Castle Heilger a decade ago with his fathers sigil on a letter of assignment in one hand and his favoured weapon in the other. Since joining the order Siegward has spent his days training and nights watching the walls and waiting for opponents to prove himself against. Thanks to his attitude and inability to speak Siegward is widely regarded as the weirdo on the wall by his compatriots and while they wouldn't betray him outright they would be very unlikely of endangering themselves beyond their duty for his benefit. If he could talk Siegward would still be a man of few words as he only holds respect for those that stay true to their duty and would rather let his convictions speak for who he is.
Armaments: Fine Guisarme, Fine Half-Plate, Fine Longword, Fine Dagger, Fine Kite shield
Grit: 2
-Bonus: [Master of Pole-arms] +10 to all pole-arm rolls
[Hawk-eye] +10 to all perception rolls
[Unnatural Reflexes] At the start of each combat roll a D6. On a 6 all opponents have -10 to their rolls
-Negative: [Mute] Good luck screaming for help
[Comrade only in name] If you get yourself stuck it’s unlikely anyone is coming to save you
Warmed up +5 to all rolls
Calm +10 to first roll
Ready for battle and focused on the task at hand Siegward readies for the bloody work
1. Seeing all these peasants and barbarians manning the wall Siegward needs to make sure they actually hold against the Darklings and grabs some of his fellow knights and through motion and pointing gets them to start fixing the form and position of the conscripts so they are less likely to take an arrow in the eye or getting the people next to them killed
+15 to roll
2. Siegward attempts to find any of the darklings that appear to be leading the men or particularly intimidating so he can position himself to meet them in battle when they inevitably climb the wall
+15 to roll
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6dfd9c No.28469
| Rolled 93, 26 = 119 (2d100) |
>>28468
bugger
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6dfd9c No.28471
| Rolled 62, 88 = 150 (2d100) |
>>28447
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings
1. Marius brings up his kiteshield in one hand and holds his lucerne hammer at the ready, holding it like a spear tucked under his arm owing to the spiked tip. He takes a defensive position behind his shield to protect himself from arrows and stands at the ready as the onslaught begins.
2. If any darklings manage to get up to the ramparts, push their ladders away, impale them with the hammer's spike, or otherwise cut them down. Toss down the shield if he has to.
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6dfd9c No.28472
| Rolled 32, 23 = 55 (2d100) |
>>28449
Gnupa Bjartmarsson
1. As Gnupa looks to the sky, a raven passes over. He looks back to his men and delivers a grand Viking speech
"The gods are with us men! I have foreseen this day! Many a men shall die this day, but not us! For you are warriors! You are the gods fist!!! The gods rage incarnated!! This world will have its time. But not this day! If any of you bastards do fall, Valhalla awaits you! The men of the order look around and see pagans and savages, but I see warriors that served my father! So now we will make these wretched creatures go back from where they came!
2. Order my men to form a shield wall with a 1/4 with their shields raised to the sky to protect us from volleys.
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6dfd9c No.28473
| Rolled 1, 58 = 59 (2d100) |
>>28472
Imma spend one grit point on action uno
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6dfd9c No.28474
>>28462
"And for fuck's sake, someone get on that ballista and hit the giant tree, give it some fireshot!"
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6dfd9c No.28477
| Rolled 1, 8 = 9 (2d100) |
1/2 - We've got Darklings at our gates and they want me to go see the Steward? Damned bureaucracy will be the death of us! Whatever, no time for that now. Man the forward battlements, and take potshots at as many soldiers as I can with this crap bow.
>>28447
Name: Aelfwar Coenwulf
Age: 27
Speciality: Scout/Ranger
Rank: Order Servants - Hanwud Rangers
Background: Aelfwar was raised in the town of Elgerrie, several miles south of Castle Heilger. The Coenwulf clan were typically antagonistic to the Order, seeing them as heavyhanded thugs imposing antiquated values on villages that wanted nothing to do with them. But when news of the Wild King began popping up, Aelfwar knew the only hope of protecting his kin from the King's onslaught was with the Order.
So he slipped out one night, entering the Castle as a recruit. His training was brief and far from thorough, but the Order was already hard-pressed for willing volunteers. They slated him for service in the Hanwud Rangers, traditionally stationed to guard the forests around the castle, but now recalled within its walls on reserve duty. Though the ideals of the Order and its Hero are foreign to him, he knows the universal values: his home, his clan and his gods. They shall guide him through these dark times, an inspiration in the encroaching darkness.
Grit: 2
Speciality: Ranger
Armaments: Poor Hunting Bow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Hard Leather Armor, Dagger, Poor Hatchet, Poor Shield
Bonus: [Master Woodsman] +10 to all hunting and foraging rolls
[Great Resilience] You heal injuries at an accelerated rate [Half Time]
Negative: [Pagan Heathen] - You cannot roll Divine Successes
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6dfd9c No.28478
>>28477
Hello darkness my old friend…
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6dfd9c No.28479
>>28478
Not going to grit that 1?
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6dfd9c No.28480
>>28479
This is my fate now
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6dfd9c No.28481
| Rolled 84, 43 = 127 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
–
1. Warriors get behind the walls and grab your bows and get deeper in the castle.
I go into a nearby tower near one of the watchers on the wall, to see which direction the enemy is coming from.
I then yell down to my warriors and have them fire up and over the wall in that direction. It's not accurate, but we'll deliver vollies of arrows to rain down and harrass the enemy approaching the castle.
2. Get the young and elderly to start making more arrows, get the women to tend to the wounded.
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6dfd9c No.28482
| Rolled 82, 63 = 145 (2d100) |
>>28447
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion]
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. With the main force returning there was nothing left for Sylvan to do. He would need to get back into the castle quickly or, if it had already been sealed, he would need to stay hidden in hostile territory, awaiting his chance to return to the castle.
Certainly a good hiding spot would be needed.
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6dfd9c No.28483
>>28462
also, 1 has a +10 from [Leader of Men]
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6dfd9c No.28484
| Rolled 99, 56 = 155 (2d100) |
>>28447
Name: Grigoric Urlfurlson
Age: 33
Speciality: Archer
Armaments: Fine Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Brigandine Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: The Order Servants are the lowest of the Order, but not without their own honour and inner rankings. As a young teen, Grigoric showed phenomenal talent during the animal hunts when serving as a squire to the late Lord Urlfurl. Impressed by his accuracy and discipline, Urlfurl initiated the necessary procedures to allow Grigoric to train as a Knight of the Martyr. Now, many years later, Grigoric is well known as a very loyal Knight who has taken on the name of his savior to bring glory to both it and the church.
Bonus: [Master Archer] +10 to all archery rolls
Negative: [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of noble blood
1. Continue resting, I suppose. The forces have not attacked so far, and I trust my fellow commanders to lead the way.
2. Wake up, and get ready for an assault. My peasant archers shall man the walls, ready to repel invaders!
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6dfd9c No.28485
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
>>28484
>99 to rest
>>28477
>1,8 to do something useful
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6dfd9c No.28486
| Rolled 10, 71 = 81 (2d100) |
>>28448
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 2
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 5
Magic Bolt: 5
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1. Crovetius scrambles to the gatehouse, with the help of Stella and the servant Hasruphel. His hopes are to reach the highest tower so that he can sling spells down on the massed enemies below. [Go the the highest point of the gatehouse]
2. Upon reaching the highest point in the Gatehouse, Crovetius scans the battlefield through Stella's eyes. Even before he got here, the old man knew that he would focus his attention either on the Walker or on the Shadowkin. With no Shadowkin in sight, he is forced to cast his spell at the Walker, for it threatens to batter down the gates with its tree. [Cast Sunbolt at Darkwood Walker]
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6dfd9c No.28487
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>28486
Local blind man trips on his way up the stairs, casts devastating spell inside tower, fucks everything up. I'm going to have to spend a Grit point so that things don't go tits up.
SPENDING 1 GRIT POINT, 1 REMAINING
Also, here's the d6 for the spell.
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6dfd9c No.28488
| Rolled 46, 77 = 123 (2d100) |
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness
1. find some cloth and a torch.
2. Then man the ballistae and shoot that fucking tree. Light the motherfucker on fire.
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6dfd9c No.28499
>>28486
I thought that might be overkill. Switching my spell to flare before the next update, if that's alright.
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6dfd9c No.28514
>>28473
[Gnupa Bjartmarsson]
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
I meant action two
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6dfd9c No.28520
| Rolled 73, 89 = 162 (2d100) |
—–
Darkling Forces: 0
Vs.
Order Forces: +10
—–
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6dfd9c No.28524
| Rolled 100, 87 = 187 (2d100) |
>>28520
Darkling Forces: -5
Correction
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6dfd9c No.28531
| Rolled 82, 84 = 166 (2d100) |
>>28457
1. [Moderate Success] Extra watches are set up around the castle.
2. [Minor Success] You head down towards the gatehouse. You find it overcrowded with men fighting, running supplies and tending wounds. As you are not part of the command structure and don’t know how to join in without making a mess you set up an outpost part way up the road to act as a rearguard if the gatehouse falls.
>>28462
1.[Critical Success] You speech stirs courage in even the most cowardly peasant [Order Forces: +10 for turn]
2.[Minor Success] The first barrage of arrows lands upon the battlements your shield taking the brunt of the force. Few injuries around though you don’t see any causalities all in all a good start.
>>28465
1. [Major Success] Adolf brings you a large leg of mutton he must have pilfered from someone.
2. [Minor Success] You fire off some shots into the Darkwood Walker which easily hit home but do little against the thick rotten wood.
>>28466
1.[Critical Success] You manage to finish the gate and the servants help install it in place.
2. [Minor Failure] Little progress is made and you are getting quite tired.
>>28467
1.[Major Failure] You walk across the ramparts watching arrows fly and the jostle of enenmy troops begin their ramshackle, an arrow flies from the horde hitting near your left armpit. Though it caused no injury it seems to have tangled into your padding underneath your plate armor and now impends your movement [Plate Armor: Hindered -5 to all combat rolls]
2. [Minor Success] You get Michelson to begin chanting the litany of protection, you are sure it will help the men hold firm in the coming skirmish.
>>28468
1. [Critical Success] With great effort you manage to get the conscripts in the propers places to avoid most of the missile fire, no deaths will be on your hands.
2. [Minor Success] You position yourself to take the brunt of the attack, for you are a sentinel against the darkness and you will do your duty.
>>28471
1. [Moderate Success] Arrows patter against your shield, the simple arrows are no match for strong wood and banded metal.
2. [Major Success] You watch horde swarm from the woods, their wild chanting and howling ripping apart the calm night. You track the movements of the ladders positioning yourself for their landings [Prepared: +5 to next roll]
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6dfd9c No.28532
| Rolled 25, 63 = 88 (2d100) |
>>28472
1. [Minor Failure] The speech does little as the shrieking hordes of darklings and great darkwood walker swarm towards the gatehouse.
2. [Minor Success] The arrows rain upon your men, their shields hold strong and no one is hit with anything more then a flesh wound.
>>28477
1.[Critical Failure] As you line up your shot you feel a war ooze washing over your face. Reaching up you feel an arrow lodged into the crown of your skull, of all the luck when did that get here….. [1d6 for CRITICAL Injury Severity]
>>28481
1. [Major Success] Taking position you and your warriors loose volley after volley into the darkling hordes. Many die as they run towards the gatehouse but many still make it.
2. [Minor Success] With a quick shout the woman are pushed from in action and move to help any injured.
>>28482
1. [Major Success] You run deeper into the forest finding the thickest of brushes and disguising yourself deep within the leaves. This is none to soon as the Shadowkin and darkling escort arrive in a nearby clearing. She seems frustrated and you see her begin to glow red as prepares to cast some sort of spell.
>>28484
1. [Critical Success] You sleep deep and dream of when you where a child basking in the summer sun. [Mood: Sunny +10 to all rolls for 4 turns or till shaken]
2. [Minor Success] The peasants are on order to patrol the main castle and don’t think they should head down to the gatehouse.
>>28486
1. [Minor Success] You manage to grit your teeth and climb to the top of the gatehouse.
2. [Moderate Success] Muttering incantations and throwing the components of newts tongue and sulphur you create a brilliant flash of light illuminating the battlefield and blinding many darklings [darkling forces: -5]
>>28488
1. [Minor Success] You grab a torch and oil lighting the ballista bolt on fire.
2. [Moderate Success] You line up with the darkwood walker releasing the massive bolt which thunks deeply into the chest of the walker. The fire is slow but seems to be starting to do some damage.
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6dfd9c No.28533
[Day 1 Turn 3]
First Blood
—–
As the initial arrow barrage dies down the Darklings swarm towards the gatehouse chanting and howling, the few that fall in pit traps are quickly trampled by their fellows who also die in droves to the concentrated fire from all forces of the gatehouse. The ever thinning numbers of darklings now begin to set their ladders to scale the gatehouse. The Darkwood Stalker though injured with a ballista bolt still moves like a living battering ram smashing into gatehouse shaking it’s very foundation. Throwing one of it’s massive hands to the battlements it begins to try and scale the gatehouse.
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6dfd9c No.28534
| Rolled 1 (1d6) |
>>28532
Just fuck my shit up, fam
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6dfd9c No.28535
| Rolled 19, 7 = 26 (2d100) |
>>28531
Age: 23
Specialty: Fencing Fop
Rank: [Knights of the Martyr]
Background: Born ninth child and sixth son to Count Edward Springhill, Malchai was always a troublesome child from birth. He cried often had a ravenous appetite, kept his parents and siblings up often and early. This is not even mentioning the sheer drain of resources he was as a sixth son and ninth child over all.
Malachai's upbringing was odd. The family was bordering on destitute for nobility and his tutors when not part of the family were cut rate at best, thieves at worst. As such he did rather poorly in most of his classes, excepting swordplay which he took to quickly and gracefully. This lead to him causing trouble everywhere poking people with sticks and "practicing" his swordplay on his sister's dresses and more. Despite all this Malachai grew up into relatively decent young man. Sadly it was not to last.
One night as Malachai was out on the town we ran afoul of the eldest son of Duke Brownhill. What started as a series of veiled insults quickly degenerated into general enmity. Malachai was thrown out of the bad they were at and left. Later as he was making his way through the city he was jumped by several of Brownhill's sycophants. Malachai dispatched them quickly in a series of duels in full view of several guardsmen. Several of the sycophants were sons of other noble houses and died as a result of the duels. Thus Malachai found himself politicked out of his home and into the knights of the Martyr by Brownhill.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Rapier, Soft Leather Armor, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Swordmaster] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Fast] You always attack first
Negative: [Political Enemy] Someone in the order has been paid a lot of money to ensure your downfall
[Hot Tempered] You cannot pass on a direct challenge
[Status: Frickin Pumped +10 to all rolls today]
1.Set up lines of supply through my secondary position. Arrows and supplies are brought to the gatehouse, and wounded who cannot fight are taken here to get treated away from the battle proper. Not nearly as glorious as I wished, but it'd help us win the battle all the same. Wouldn't do to run out of arrows.
+Frickin Pumped
2. With that done I get a cat nap there telling my subordinates to wake me should the situation change.
+Frickin Pumped.
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6dfd9c No.28536
>>28534
Blood seeps over your eyes as you slump to the ground, blackness slowly consumes you with the last image you ever see being of the gatehouses stone roof. [You are Dead, Feel free to make a new character from remaining alive defenders]
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6dfd9c No.28537
| Rolled 52, 63 = 115 (2d100) |
>>28531
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings
1. "Come on," growled Marius as he cast down his shield and put both hands on his weapon, holding it like a proper hammer. "Stick me if you can, scum-bloods."
Marius skewers, bludgeons and hammers to death any darkling that tries scaling the ramparts. +5
2. After thinning the invading ranks, he proceeds to then kick the ladders off of the walls and to the ground.
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6dfd9c No.28538
>>28203
Name: Horgandr Blackthorn
Age: 43
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: Horgandr was raised from birth as a servant of the Martyr, brought up in a religious commune dedicated to preserve the Martyr's legacy. His father served as captain of the Legacy Guard until his premature death fighting barbarian raiders from the north.
Horgandr took up his father's helm in the midst of the battle, when his soldiers were flagging. Impersonating his sire, Horgandr lead his men to victory, and thereafter became known as the Blackthorn, after a deadly vine of the region. Only a few short years later, Horgandr has been recalled from the Legacy commune, to defend his faith at Castle Heilger. In his lands he was a hero, here he is a common knight. But regardless of his rank, his title remains, and under the shade of his father's helm the Blackthorn will fight relentlessly for the good of his faith.
Grit: 2
-Bonus: [Inspiring Captain] [Tenacious]
-Negative: [Surly Jerk]
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6dfd9c No.28539
| Rolled 72, 46 = 118 (2d100) |
>>28533
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness
The moment that thing's head pops over the gatehouse wall I put 2 bolts in it
1. In its left eye which should hurt it long enough to reload and put another one
2. In its right eye.
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6dfd9c No.28540
| Rolled 54, 27 = 81 (2d100) |
>>28532
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion]
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. Sylvan's heartbeat began to drown out his surroundings as he stared onto the magic spectacle evolving before him. Women were violent creatures to begin with, but the fact that she was leading an army seeking to slaughter all humans and did so using powers that exceeded Sylvan's comprehension by far did not make the situation any easier.
Silently sighing the hunter knocked his arrow. He would only get one shot. Right between the eyes.. no. An eye. Any eye. Sylvan would settle for any eye he could hit. Nervously he raised his bow. Or perhaps the throat? How was he supposed to know where a woman's weakspot was? After he took the shot he would have to run like he had never run before. Find a new hiding spot, perhaps not too far away. Surely they the Darklings wouldn't expect him to hide closeby. A plan more than anything, Sylvan wasn't sure if he would even be able to command his own legs to stop.
With a last deep breath the boy from the woods rose from the bush, stringing back the arrow, his hands as steady as they could be, his aim as true as it needed to. He let go. The arrow shot forward. History took its course.
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6dfd9c No.28541
>>28540
Burn that grit to up that roll Mr Governor!
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6dfd9c No.28542
>>28539
[Horgandr Blackthorn]
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Fine Kite Shield, Fine Mace, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armour
Bonus: [Inspiring Captain] +10 all command rolls for groups of 40 or less
[Tenacious] You require 1 less action per day to rest.
Negative: [Surly Jerk] This boys abit of an ass and has made some enemies in the order that would gladly give you that last push over the edge.
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6dfd9c No.28543
>>28540
Doctor Fam ima need a second grit point on that second action asap
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6dfd9c No.28544
| Rolled 25, 6 = 31 (2d100) |
1/2 - Even without rank or station, Horgandr naturally takes a commanding position atop the battlements. He orders peasant archers and skirmishers to direct fire at the Darklings further back, while defenders on the walls pour oil and drop stones down on the heads of those trying to scale over the top. If any do manage to make it through this gauntlet, they are met with a swift rebuttal from Horgandr's sword.
>+[Inspiring Captain]
>>28542
Name: Horgandr Blackthorn
Age: 43
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: Horgandr was raised from birth as a servant of the Martyr, brought up in a religious commune dedicated to preserve the Martyr's legacy. His father served as captain of the Legacy Guard until his premature death fighting barbarian raiders from the north.
Horgandr took up his father's helm in the midst of the battle, when his soldiers were flagging. Impersonating his sire, Horgandr lead his men to victory, and thereafter became known as the Blackthorn, after a deadly vine of the region. Only a few short years later, Horgandr has been recalled from the Legacy commune, to defend his faith at Castle Heilger. In his lands he was a hero, here he is a common knight. But regardless of his rank, his title remains, and under the shade of his father's helm the Blackthorn will fight relentlessly for the good of his faith.
Grit: 2
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Fine Kite Shield, Fine Mace, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armour
Bonus: [Inspiring Captain] +10 all command rolls for groups of 40 or less
[Tenacious] You require 1 less action per day to rest.
Negative: [Surly Jerk] This boys abit of an ass and has made some enemies in the order that would gladly give you that last push over the edge.
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6dfd9c No.28545
>>28544
wew. Spending grit on that there roll.
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6dfd9c No.28547
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 64, 13 = 77 (2d100) |
>>28531
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
>+ Morale: Serene +5 all rolls for 4 turns or till shaken]
1. Good men, keep fighting! We nearly have them, all we need to do is kill that massive beast and the day shall be won, then we may mop up the survivors! And once the enemy routes, I want a party to come with me so we may slaughter that wicjked witch who leads them! For the Hero!
Morale: Serene +5 all rolls for 4 turns or till shaken]
2. Bran would hold his spot on the battlements, slaughtering and darklings that neared him.
Morale: Serene +5 all rolls for 4 turns or till shaken]
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6dfd9c No.28548
>>28547
gonna burn a grit point on action 2
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6dfd9c No.28554
| Rolled 79, 56 = 135 (2d100) |
>>28531
Name: Siegward
Age: 30
Speciality: Sentinel
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Siegward appeared at the gates of Castle Heilger a decade ago with his fathers sigil on a letter of assignment in one hand and his favoured weapon in the other. Since joining the order Siegward has spent his days training and nights watching the walls and waiting for opponents to prove himself against. Thanks to his attitude and inability to speak Siegward is widely regarded as the weirdo on the wall by his compatriots and while they wouldn't betray him outright they would be very unlikely of endangering themselves beyond their duty for his benefit. If he could talk Siegward would still be a man of few words as he only holds respect for those that stay true to their duty and would rather let his convictions speak for who he is.
Armaments: Fine Guisarme, Fine Half-Plate, Fine Longword, Fine Dagger, Fine Kite shield
Grit: 2
-Bonus: [Master of Pole-arms] +10 to all pole-arm rolls
[Hawk-eye] +10 to all perception rolls
[Unnatural Reflexes] At the start of each combat roll a D6. On a 6 all opponents have -10 to their rolls
-Negative: [Mute] Good luck screaming for help
[Comrade only in name] If you get yourself stuck it’s unlikely anyone is coming to save you
Warmed up +5 to all rolls
1/2. Seeing the massive hand Siegward does the first thing that comes to mind and goes to it motioning to or grabbing anyone he sees with a chopping weapon and no bow to join him and hack at the wrist in an attempt to dislodge the giant
+15 from mastery and warmness
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6dfd9c No.28556
| Rolled 2 (1d6) |
>>28554
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6dfd9c No.28571
| Rolled 29, 46 = 75 (2d100) |
>>28532
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 2
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 4
Magic Bolt: 5
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2.
That walker needs to be destroyed. If it gets over the walls, it will cause untold havok. Another flare should do the trick, but I'll focus, so that I have a better chance of successfully casting it. I want that walker to burn. [Cast Flare at Walker]
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6dfd9c No.28572
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>28571
And the d6 for the spell
I just realized I forgot to subtract my grit. It should be at 1.
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6dfd9c No.28573
>>28571
Based off of
-Flare-
This cantrip creates a burst of light. If you cause the light to burst directly in front of a single creature, that creature is dazzled for 1 minute unless it makes a successful Fortitude save. Sightless creatures, as well as creatures already dazzled, are not affected by flare.
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6dfd9c No.28574
>>28573
Ffs, I can never get this right. Can I switch to flame spray, if it has the necessary range? If it doesn't, it'd be great if I could just do a magic bolt.
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6dfd9c No.28575
>>28574
Maybe use the spell Magic Bolt?
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6dfd9c No.28576
>>28575
Yeah, that's what I meant.
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6dfd9c No.28577
>>28576
4u
Flare: Makes blinding flash
Magic Bolt: Shoots a bolt of pure force
Create Water: Creates Water
Lock: Reinforces a door
Flame Spray: Shoots a spray of flames in a cone infront of you
Root Bind: Aoe roots come to bind enemies
Cone of Cold: Shoots a large cone which freezes the area
Magic Weapon: Temporarily makes any weapon magical
Wraith Warrior: Creates a wraith warrior to protect you
Summon Storm: Summon a lightening storm in target area
Sunbolt: Hyper Beam point and it dies
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6dfd9c No.28586
| Rolled 42, 73 = 115 (2d100) |
>>28542
[Gnupa Bjartmarsson]
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
1-2 have my men hold position and prepare for anything that gets to the front line
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6dfd9c No.28599
| Rolled 47, 34 = 81 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger
–
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+15 Swampling raiders
+25 Swampling Misc.
+20 Knights of the Martyr
+5 Order Servants
+35 Peasant Hunters
+25 Peasant Misc.
>>Current status:
[Plate Armor: Hindered -5 to all combat rolls]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions—
1. Dalmador issues the general order to repel the invaders with all force. He is barking orders and signaling with his sword. [Issue a general defense] {+Scary: +10}
2. Dalmador orders any pitch that can be located to be brought to the wall and dumped on the stalker. It should stick to the creature and avoid causing a general conflagration. [Find any pitch and use it]
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6dfd9c No.28616
| Rolled 1, 97 = 98 (2d100) |
>>28531
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet:
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; Would not do good to extend myself. Head back to the castle while eating the mutton and acquiring some drink, preferably wine, before sleeping in my guest chambers. Take some uncomfortable armor bits off but keep on, need to get up in the morning for shift if the siege keeps going. Give rest of mutton and bone to Adolf before sleeping
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6dfd9c No.28618
>>28616
>>28531
How many grit points it's gunna take so I don't die?
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6dfd9c No.28619
>>28618
None you are sleeping
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6dfd9c No.28700
| Rolled 94, 18 = 112 (2d100) |
—–
Darkling Forces: 0
Vs.
Order Forces: +5
—–
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6dfd9c No.28701
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6dfd9c No.28702
>>28700
gonna burn a order grit point on that roll fam
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6dfd9c No.28703
>>28700
Corrected
Order Forces: +10
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6dfd9c No.28704
| Rolled 79 (1d100) |
>>28700
rolling for anal circumference
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6dfd9c No.28706
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6dfd9c No.28707
| Rolled 74, 30 = 104 (2d100) |
>>28535
1. [Moderate Failure] You try and get a supply line set up but most of the peasants are dead tired and pretty much already falling asleep.
2. [Major Failure] Telling everyone to get some rest, you settle into your bunk for the night. You begin to fall into the dreamless slumber till you hear a door creak open… Someone is standing over your bed but you cannot see who in the darkness.
>>28537
1. [Minor Success] The first darkling up the ladder is greeted with a swift blow to it’s head which crumples like a paper bag as it falls into the swarm below. With help of the other knights and conscripts around you any darkling who attempts to gain the wall is swiftly dispatched.
2. [Moderate Success] When the swarm falters you rush forward using all your strength to topple the ladder back towards the earth. You section of the gatehouse is clear for now.
>>28539
1. [Moderate Success] The first shot strikes true smashing in the Darkwood walkers left eye sending it reeling back.
2. [Minor Success] The second shot however goes wide just barely skimming the monster as it starts to scale the wall. You are however forced to abandon the ballista as the Darkwood Walker smashes into it as it brings itself on the wall.
>>28540
1. [Major Success] Pushing himself out of the brush he lets loose the arrow which flies true slamming into the Shadowkin’s chest, her eyes wide with shock she slumps over the magic fizzling in the air.
2. [Minor Success] You run as fast as you can from the clearing as the Darkling troopers howl close behind you crashing through the greenery. Eventually you hide yourself in the hollow of a tree though you can still hear the darklings searching for you.
>>28544
1. [Minor Failure] You head to gatehouse where the siege is underway, however your attempts at command seem to only befuddle the peasants and knights who are already under Dalmador’s command.
2. [Minor Success] You join the melee on the wall however you begin to see while one side is holding strong the other is failing as a group of darklings have successfully gained the wall.
>>28547
1. [Moderate Success] You rally the men! No way your going to lose this one know! Shit did the darkwood walker just get on the wall! The darklings also have a foothold on the left side! [+5 Order Forces]
2. [Minor Success] You rush into the melee sword in hand killing darklings left and right trying to push them back off the wall, but there are just way too many of them.
>>28554
1. [Critical Success] You hack away at the walkers hand as it pulls itself onto the gatehouse. You could not stop it but where it right hand once was is just a nice stump.
2. [Moderate Failure] You had to act right away and hand no time for non-verbal communication.
>>28571
1. [Minor Success] You fire a brilliant bolt of purple magical energy at the Darkwood Walker smashing of a large portion of rotting wood from it’s midriff.
>>28586
1. [Minor Success] The huscarls hold the line as the darklings try to swarm the walls kicking over ladders and slaying those who climb them. However the great number of both has forced them backwards and a group has taken part of the wall.
2. [Moderate Success] Your men however have a bigger problem as they are forced back even further as the massive Darkwood Walker has pulled itself onto the wall.
>>28599
1. [Minor Success] You bark at these little pukes to hold the line and send these scumsuckers straight back to hell.
2. [Minor Failure] You head into the gatehouse yelling at the servants about where the fuck is your pitch you have a tree to burn [Finding pitch 1/4]
>>28616
1.[Critical Failure] As you try and head back to the castle you are confronted by the Order Knight Garl Ironhand who yells at you about being a coward and where the fuck do you think your going!
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6dfd9c No.28708
>>28707
Day 2 Phase 1
Coming of Dawn, Coming of the Crows
The sun peaks over the mountains giving everyone a clear view of the battlefield. The darklings have taken massive losses as the ground around the gatehouse is littered in bodies from traps, arrows and combat on the wall. However this has made it so only the most furious and veteran darklings have made it to the wall and have managed to gain a foothold on the left side. The Darkwood Walker which is terribly injured has also manage to gain the wall and is sure to wreck terrible havoc on the defenders.
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6dfd9c No.28709
Name: L. Umber Jacques
Age: 38
Specialty: Lumber Jacking
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Every good fire needs a sturdy heart of wood! Umber has dedicated his life to ensuring the wood stays stocked for The Order, mastering the art of a straight cut through a fine and powerful log. At the young age of 7, Umber was taken in by The Order. His job was passed on to him by his mentor, the previous logger for The Order.
Grit: 1
-Bonus: Spending 2
-Negative: Nope. See ya.
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6dfd9c No.28710
| Rolled 27, 12 = 39 (2d100) |
>>28707
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings
1/2. Marius growled beneath his helm as he saw the carnage before him– and heard the sounds of slaughter coming from the gatehouse's left side. He strode out from his post and hefted his hammer.
Marius moves to help drive the Darklings back on the left side.
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6dfd9c No.28711
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>28710
>>28707
Melancholic roll.
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6dfd9c No.28712
| Rolled 94, 96 = 190 (2d100) |
>>28709
Character is thrown of ramparts for being silly.
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6dfd9c No.28713
| Rolled 98, 70 + 10 = 178 (2d100) |
>>28707
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
1/2. Bran looks to his left flank, crumbling under the darkling assault, he readies himself and gives a mighty shout, "RALLY MEN, TO ME! TO ME! Horgandr , take your men down the center, Dalmador, the right flank, follow down the battlements! Arise, men of the Order, Arise! Today is a sword day, a red! ERE THE SUN RISES!" And with that, he charges the darklings. "FOR RUIN, AND THE WORLD'S ENDING!"
+[Leader of Men]
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6dfd9c No.28714
| Rolled 23, 41 + 10 = 74 (2d100) |
>>28713
to clarify, That roll was to rally the men and get them to get the bastards off our wall, while taking part in the action myself
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6dfd9c No.28715
| Rolled 28, 79 = 107 (2d100) |
>>28707
Age: 23
Specialty: Fencing Fop
Rank: [Knights of the Martyr]
Background: Born ninth child and sixth son to Count Edward Springhill, Malchai was always a troublesome child from birth. He cried often had a ravenous appetite, kept his parents and siblings up often and early. This is not even mentioning the sheer drain of resources he was as a sixth son and ninth child over all.
Malachai's upbringing was odd. The family was bordering on destitute for nobility and his tutors when not part of the family were cut rate at best, thieves at worst. As such he did rather poorly in most of his classes, excepting swordplay which he took to quickly and gracefully. This lead to him causing trouble everywhere poking people with sticks and "practicing" his swordplay on his sister's dresses and more. Despite all this Malachai grew up into relatively decent young man. Sadly it was not to last.
One night as Malachai was out on the town we ran afoul of the eldest son of Duke Brownhill. What started as a series of veiled insults quickly degenerated into general enmity. Malachai was thrown out of the bad they were at and left. Later as he was making his way through the city he was jumped by several of Brownhill's sycophants. Malachai dispatched them quickly in a series of duels in full view of several guardsmen. Several of the sycophants were sons of other noble houses and died as a result of the duels. Thus Malachai found himself politicked out of his home and into the knights of the Martyr by Brownhill.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Rapier, Soft Leather Armor, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Swordmaster] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Fast] You always attack first
Negative: [Political Enemy] Someone in the order has been paid a lot of money to ensure your downfall
[Hot Tempered] You cannot pass on a direct challenge
1-2. Feint a strike at them with my dagger to get to my feet and get enough room to draw my rapier. Then If I have been attacked defend myself as best I can, and I I haven't demand an explanation. A Good one.
+Fast
+Sword master
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6dfd9c No.28718
| Rolled 44, 63 = 107 (2d100) |
1/2 - Taking the wall? Not so long as I can hold a sword! Charge into the melee, rallying other fighters around me. We will drive these godless dogs off of the battlements!
>+[Inspiring Captain]
>>28707
Name: Horgandr Blackthorn
Age: 43
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: Horgandr was raised from birth as a servant of the Martyr, brought up in a religious commune dedicated to preserve the Martyr's legacy. His father served as captain of the Legacy Guard until his premature death fighting barbarian raiders from the north.
Horgandr took up his father's helm in the midst of the battle, when his soldiers were flagging. Impersonating his sire, Horgandr lead his men to victory, and thereafter became known as the Blackthorn, after a deadly vine of the region. Only a few short years later, Horgandr has been recalled from the Legacy commune, to defend his faith at Castle Heilger. In his lands he was a hero, here he is a common knight. But regardless of his rank, his title remains, and under the shade of his father's helm the Blackthorn will fight relentlessly for the good of his faith.
Grit: 2
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Fine Kite Shield, Fine Mace, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armour
Bonus: [Inspiring Captain] +10 all command rolls for groups of 40 or less
[Tenacious] You require 1 less action per day to rest.
Negative: [Surly Jerk] This boys abit of an ass and has made some enemies in the order that would gladly give you that last push over the edge.
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6dfd9c No.28719
>>28718
Taking the center as ordered.
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6dfd9c No.28721
| Rolled 13, 83 = 96 (2d100) |
>>28708
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness
1.2. It's time to shine for the martyr and earn my blade. I scream for the archers to target the ent momentarily to distract it then leap and drive my blade through its right eye and downward in an attempt to Pierce it's twisted unnatural heart
[Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls
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6dfd9c No.28722
| Rolled 12, 59 = 71 (2d100) |
>>28721
Grit point on the 13
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6dfd9c No.28727
| Rolled 16, 9 = 25 (2d100) |
>>28707
Name: Siegward
Age: 30
Speciality: Sentinel
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Siegward appeared at the gates of Castle Heilger a decade ago with his fathers sigil on a letter of assignment in one hand and his favoured weapon in the other. Since joining the order Siegward has spent his days training and nights watching the walls and waiting for opponents to prove himself against. Thanks to his attitude and inability to speak Siegward is widely regarded as the weirdo on the wall by his compatriots and while they wouldn't betray him outright they would be very unlikely of endangering themselves beyond their duty for his benefit. If he could talk Siegward would still be a man of few words as he only holds respect for those that stay true to their duty and would rather let his convictions speak for who he is.
Armaments: Fine Guisarme, Fine Half-Plate, Fine Longword, Fine Dagger, Fine Kite shield
Grit: 2
-Bonus: [Master of Pole-arms] +10 to all pole-arm rolls
[Hawk-eye] +10 to all perception rolls
[Unnatural Reflexes] At the start of each combat roll a D6. On a 6 all opponents have -10 to their rolls
-Negative: [Mute] Good luck screaming for help
[Comrade only in name] If you get yourself stuck it’s unlikely anyone is coming to save you
The giant is crippled but it still stands and this mighty oak must fall as a point to rally around
1/2. Siegward advances on the Giant intent on felling it from it's base and chopping away at one of it's legs
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6dfd9c No.28728
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>28727
Well shite
Spending both my grit so I don't get stepped on and also my d6
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6dfd9c No.28729
| Rolled 14, 19, 11, 88 = 132 (4d100) |
>>28707
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 4
Magic Bolt: 4
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. Once more. Another Magic Bolt for that Walker, and I can take a minute to breathe. [Magic Bolt -> Walker]
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6dfd9c No.28730
| Rolled 67, 57 = 124 (2d100) |
>>28729
>4d100
y tho
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6dfd9c No.28731
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>28729
And he d6 for the spell.
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6dfd9c No.28732
| Rolled 96, 20 = 116 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger
–
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+15 Swampling raiders
+25 Swampling Misc.
+20 Knights of the Martyr
+5 Order Servants
+35 Peasant Hunters
+25 Peasant Misc.
>>Current status:
[Plate Armor: Hindered -5 to all combat rolls]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions—
1. Dalmador takes a moment to remove the arrow in his armor and make sure his facial hair is up to standard. Also, blood has also made his sword harder to swing and he's somewhat tired, so this gives him a few seconds of rest. [Grooming/arrow removal] [-Old As Hell] {{META: I assume that at the rate of which the game is moving the grooming is a minor action, otherwise half of my actions will literally be used grooming}}
2. Dalmador grabs the nearest runner he can find and screams at them to find the pitch. He doesn't have enough time himself – he's too busy fighting – but there's plenty of child runners around to be useful in this sort of thing. He's more measured around children, but he is still scary. [[Finding pitch 1/4]] {+Scary: +10?}
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6dfd9c No.28733
| Rolled 18, 98 = 116 (2d100) |
>>28707
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet:
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; The atmosphere immediately got tense, the killing intent oozing from Sigismund suffocating, but as soon as it began it ended. The Wolf whined a bit and Sigismund started a bellowing laugh and ruffled the Wolfs head, "Of course, Martyr Knight, I don't know what was thinking. I am use to mercenary life, am not use to being siege as often." Sigismund rubbed his eyes a bit and headed back to the gatehouse to find it starting to get overrun. "Adolf, erschlagen." Push the monsters back and push down the ladders
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6dfd9c No.28734
| Rolled 8, 95 = 103 (2d100) |
Name: Gnupa Bjartmarsson
Age: 25
Speciality: Heavy infantry/Berserker
Rank: Visitor
Background: Hailing from the outskirts of Majewl, The first born son of Jarl Sigfast Bjartmarsson, Gnupa Bjartmarsson, ordered by his father, has called upon Battle-hardened men to answer the call of the order. This will be Gnupa's first test, as his personal goal is to appease the old gods through war, valor and the skulls of his enemies.
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
1/2. Gnupa sees it as his time to claim his grand trophy he wields his battleaxe and charges the walker attempting to take one of its legs to bring it down.[Bloodlust +5]
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6dfd9c No.28750
| Rolled 96, 33 = 129 (2d100) |
>>28532
Posting for baz he will roll.
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
1.2. Continue firing on the enemy soldiers.
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6dfd9c No.28754
| Rolled 58, 73 = 131 (2d100) |
>>28707
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion]
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. Sylvan was convinced he had killed her, after all his arrow had struck her right in the chest. No doubt she had been taking her last breath even before he had begun hiding in the tree.
The darklings would continue their search, Sylvan had to make the best of his hiding spot staying as low as possible, perhaps even improving it a little, after all he would most likely have to sleep in hostile territory as there was little reason to continue running around outside while dozens of Darklings were looking for him.
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6dfd9c No.28772
>>28203
Name: Chaplain Merek Grimaldus
Age: 42 winters
Speciality: Rallying point, raising of Morale, religious duties
Rank: [Knight of the Martyr]
Background: Merek has been a member of the Church of the Martyr ever since he was a small child, taken in after being found on the streets thieving. Punished for his sins as a child and raised to never commit them again he has grown zealous of the religion that allowed him shelter and food. As a young man he learned of the Order of the Martyr and sought to join them and fulfill his debt to the church by holding Castle Heilger against the tide of the Wild King, and bring the order back to it's full complement and glory. Twenty long winters he spent as a member of the Order attempting to teach those who would see this position as a punishment, teach them of the glory and duty that their position held. Ten long winters since he began to use force to teach those who were unwilling. Five long winters since his Zeal grew and he began to see heresy within those who would not submit to the Order. A valued member of the Order and a rallying point to those who believe, many however keep a good enough distance away that Grimaldus's suspicions do not fall on them, so that they are not forced to submit to his inquisitions and tests of faith.
Grit: 2 [See section]
-Bonus: [Standard-bearer][Priest of the Martyr][Zeal][Hatred of the Damned]
-Negative: [Zeal][Hatred of the Damned][Suspicions of Heresy]
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6dfd9c No.28775
>>28203
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 2
-Bonus: Last of the Seelie, The Ring, Mastery is the Virtue, Ancient Vigor
-Negative: Last of the Seelie, Or Die Trying, Inhuman
Awaiting confirmation from scruff the knight-steward
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6dfd9c No.28776
>>28775
if cornwillass is okay with it, then I am
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6dfd9c No.28929
>>28775
[Chaplain Merk Geimaldus]
Speciality: Chaplain
Armaments: Fine Mace, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Banner of the Marytr
Bonus:[Standard-Bearer] You carry the flag of the first Hero! All forces near the flag gain +5 but bad things would happen should you ever lose it.
[Priest of the Martyr] +10 to rally Knights of the Martyr
[Zeal] +5 to all combat rolls
[Hatred of the Damned] +10 versus Shadowkin
Negative: [Zeal] Every combat encounter roll 1d6. On a 1 you must pursue and cannot retreat.
[Hatred of the Damned] You must engage Shadowkin at all costs if in the same battle as they are.
[Suspicions of Heresy] You must spend 2 actions per day investigating for heresy among the ranks
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6dfd9c No.28930
>>28775
[Surtin Veek Tori]
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
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6dfd9c No.28931
| Rolled 78, 7 = 85 (2d100) |
—–
Darkling Forces: -5
Vs.
Order Forces: +15
—–
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6dfd9c No.28933
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6dfd9c No.28934
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6dfd9c No.28935
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6dfd9c No.28940
>>28710
1. [Minor Failure] You wade into the fray smashing through the darklings and helping push them back with the other forces. You can tell you are taking heavy losses among the conscripts. While in the fight you seem to have been hit with a blade across your shoulder cutting through the plate [1D6 Minor Injury]
>>28713
1. [Critical Success] With a rousing speech and command the Knights and conscripts rush to push back the darklings [Order: +15]
2. [Moderate Success] Leading the charge you smash into the darklings engaging them in brutal melee combat, causalities are high as the veteran darklings are fearsome fighters.
>>28715
1. [Moderate Success] You flip out of bed drawing your rapier as you face a rather confused Knight of the Marytr, it seems in your haze you wandered into the wrong room. You swiftly apologize and head over to your own room.
>>28718
1. [Minor Success] You manage to rally your fighters leading them into the darklings core.
2. [Moderate Success] Charging into darklings shield first you manage to help push them to the edge while viciously hacking at them over the shield wall with your men.
>>28721
1. [Minor Success] You run forward using the battlements as a spring board leaping at the Darkwood Walker. You smash into the creature grappling onto it’s chest, you can hear a cracking sound [1D6 Minor Injury]
2. [Critical Success] Lining up your sword with it’s black heart pushing the Sowrd of the Martyr through it’s black heart. It topples over the ramparts as you jump to safety.
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6dfd9c No.28941
>>28727
1. [Minor Success] You dodge in-between the things legs hacking away as you watch Armian jump on the creature slamming his sword into it’s heart. As it falls you find yourself crushed partly under it’s bulk as it fall of the ramparts. You manage to stay on the ramparts but man does it hurt [1d6 Moderate Injury]
[Only 1 grit spent]
>>28729
1. [Moderate Success] Firing off on more bolt you manage to keep the creature tilted while Armian slays the creature.
>>28732
1. [Critical Success] You remove the arrow with ease, it seemed to only have jammed in the plates and done very little real damage to the armour.
2. [Minor Failure] The search for pitch continues 2/4
>>28733
1. [Moderate Failure] Your attempts at intimidation are less then impressive as the Knight brushes you off heading back into the fray.
2. [Critical Success] You join the fray hacking and slashing at the darklings as the Order forces push them back at a very bloody cost.
>>28734
1. [Major Failure] As you charge the leg you find yourself on the receiving end of a wayward kick sending you reeling across the ramparts [1d6 Major Injury]
>>28750
1. [Critical Success] You continue to rain death upon the darklings slaughtering them in hordes.
>>28754
1. [Minor Success] You burrow in deep praying to the new gods and the hero that the darklings will not find you.
2.[Moderate Success] You enter a dreamless slumber…
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6dfd9c No.28942
>>28941
Day 2 Phase 2
Black and Crimson Ramparts
—-
The sun is high in the sky as the battle of the days ends. The Darkwood Walker is slain and the darklings are in full route but at what cost. The fighting on the gatehouse has left the ramparts littered with the corpses of Knights, Servants, Swamplings and Darklings. The grounds outside of the gatehouse are littered with darklings corpses with fewer them fifty escaping the failed attack.
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6dfd9c No.28943
| Rolled 6 (1d6) |
>>28940
Injury roll.
+[Heavy Armor Mastery}
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6dfd9c No.28944
| Rolled 59, 61 = 120 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
1-2.
"Ughah-Bhugah!
We won!
GET OUT AND LOOT THE BATTLEFIELD. WE FEAST TONIGHT"
Can't just let all these corpses rot and spread disease can we? Also take any weapons and shiny bits.
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6dfd9c No.28945
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6dfd9c No.28946
| Rolled 5 (1d6) |
>>28941
Moderate Injury roll
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6dfd9c No.28947
| Rolled 5 (1d6) |
>>28940
[1D6 Minor Injury]
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6dfd9c No.28948
>>28946
[Core: Cracked Ribs : -5 to all actions]
>>28947
[Leg: Sprained Ankle: -5 to all movement actions]
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6dfd9c No.28949
>>28944
>>28485
"Lord Commander," says Chief Man Raider holding a conspiciously /non-darkling-leg-on-a-stick/
"Ah, ye do not mind our disposal of the dead do ye?"
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6dfd9c No.28950
>>28949
"Do as you will, it saves us supplies. Tell me though, how does it taste?"
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6dfd9c No.28952
>>28950
"Depends on how ye cook it.
It's not like chicken, I have no idea where people get that idea. Too lean to be a fat cow either.
More like. . .goat. Ye may try some for yourself."
The chief offers the Commander a bite.
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6dfd9c No.28953
| Rolled 77, 45 = 122 (2d100) |
>>28929
>Name: Chaplain Merek Grimaldus
>Age: 42 winters
>Speciality: Rallying point, raising of Morale, religious duties
>Rank: [Knight of the Martyr]
>Background: Merek has been a member of the Church of the Martyr ever since he was a small child, taken in after being found on the streets thieving. Punished for his sins as a child and raised to never commit them again he has grown zealous of the religion that allowed him shelter and food. As a young man he learned of the Order of the Martyr and sought to join them and fulfill his debt to the church by holding Castle Heilger against the tide of the Wild King, and bring the order back to it's full complement and glory. Twenty long winters he spent as a member of the Order attempting to teach those who would see this position as a punishment, teach them of the glory and duty that their position held. Ten long winters since he began to use force to teach those who were unwilling. Five long winters since his Zeal grew and he began to see heresy within those who would not submit to the Order. A valued member of the Order and a rallying point to those who believe, many however keep a good enough distance away that Grimaldus's suspicions do not fall on them, so that they are not forced to submit to his inquisitions and tests of faith.
[Chaplain Merk Geimaldus]
Speciality: Chaplain
Armaments: Fine Mace, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Banner of the Marytr
Bonus:[Standard-Bearer] You carry the flag of the first Hero! All forces near the flag gain +5 but bad things would happen should you ever lose it.
[Priest of the Martyr] +10 to rally Knights of the Martyr
[Zeal] +5 to all combat rolls
[Hatred of the Damned] +10 versus Shadowkin
Negative: [Zeal] Every combat encounter roll 1d6. On a 1 you must pursue and cannot retreat.
[Hatred of the Damned] You must engage Shadowkin at all costs if in the same battle as they are.
[Suspicions of Heresy] You must spend 2 actions per day investigating for heresy among the ranks
1.2. SEEK OUT HERESY WHEREVER IT MAY LIE. A CLEANSED CASTLE IS A HAPPY CASTLE
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6dfd9c No.28954
Officially, the Swamplings were aware on the other Order's qualms about the consumption of the dead, and the official stance was to eat only the Swampling dead
That being said, the Swamplings were quite keen on /skinning/ all their meat. Swamplings would be seen carrying around burnt pieces of skinned flesh. After all,
we all look the same on the inside.
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6dfd9c No.28955
| Rolled 51, 59 = 110 (2d100) |
>>28941
Age: 23
Specialty: Fencing Fop
Rank: [Knights of the Martyr]
Background: Born ninth child and sixth son to Count Edward Springhill, Malchai was always a troublesome child from birth. He cried often had a ravenous appetite, kept his parents and siblings up often and early. This is not even mentioning the sheer drain of resources he was as a sixth son and ninth child over all.
Malachai's upbringing was odd. The family was bordering on destitute for nobility and his tutors when not part of the family were cut rate at best, thieves at worst. As such he did rather poorly in most of his classes, excepting swordplay which he took to quickly and gracefully. This lead to him causing trouble everywhere poking people with sticks and "practicing" his swordplay on his sister's dresses and more. Despite all this Malachai grew up into relatively decent young man. Sadly it was not to last.
One night as Malachai was out on the town we ran afoul of the eldest son of Duke Brownhill. What started as a series of veiled insults quickly degenerated into general enmity. Malachai was thrown out of the bad they were at and left. Later as he was making his way through the city he was jumped by several of Brownhill's sycophants. Malachai dispatched them quickly in a series of duels in full view of several guardsmen. Several of the sycophants were sons of other noble houses and died as a result of the duels. Thus Malachai found himself politicked out of his home and into the knights of the Martyr by Brownhill.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Rapier, Soft Leather Armor, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Swordmaster] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Fast] You always attack first
Negative: [Political Enemy] Someone in the order has been paid a lot of money to ensure your downfall
[Hot Tempered] You cannot pass on a direct challenge
1. Try to coordinate the aid from the castle to the gatehouse. Supplies, helpers and fresh men, go in, wounded and exhausted people go out to their quartering or the medical areas.
2.Personally lead the a contingent of men to give our honored dead a proper send off. Graves if feasible, a proper respectful burning if not. The Darkling Corpses can get put in the ditches and burned any old way, no one gives a fuck about them. The tribesmen can handle their own corpses but not ours.
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6dfd9c No.28957
| Rolled 12, 8 = 20 (2d100) |
>>28941
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion]
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. As he was still outside the castle a great opportunity was offered to Sylvan. The Darklings were routing. He would try to catch one of guard and kill it doing his best to disguise himself as one of the Darklings. He would then follow the stream of fleeing Darklings to their new leader. If everything went well perhaps he would get another shot at one of their leaders.
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6dfd9c No.28958
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6dfd9c No.28959
| Rolled 52, 92 = 144 (2d100) |
>>28940
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings
1. Help clear bodies from the gatehouse. Savagely defend all Order dead from the cannibalistic swamplings.
2. Catch some sleep in the barracks, for it has been a long night.
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6dfd9c No.28962
>>28954
CLARIFICATION FOR ALL ORDER MEMBERS:
CANNIBALISM IS A SIN AGAINST THE GODS AND HUMANITY!
HOWEVER SWAMPLINGS ARE NOT CONSIDERED HUMaN AND THUS ARE EXPECTED TO COMMIT SUCH GASTLY ACTS UPON EACH OTHER
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6dfd9c No.28964
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6dfd9c No.28965
| Rolled 85, 87 = 172 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger
–
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+15 Swampling raiders
+25 Swampling Misc.
+20 Knights of the Martyr
+5 Order Servants
+35 Peasant Hunters
+25 Peasant Misc.
>>Current status:
[Plate Armor: Hindered -5 to all combat rolls]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions—
1. Find the chaplain and seek his guidance: rumors of cannibalism are met with the utmost disgust and revulsion by Dalmador. It's bad for morale to eat the dead, and it's particularly egregious to the faith. Whenever he catches a man doing it, someone hangs. Cannibalism is a crime and a breach of military order. Period. {Treating this as 'grooming' standard'}
2. Dalmador rallies what men of faith can be found inside the castle to the task. Order must be maintained.
>>28953
Dalmador is shouting. "CHAPLAIN! A WORD! There is rumor of cannibalism in the castle! This is even worse than the grooming standard violations! It is a crime against the gods low and high, and I will not have it. Chaplain, you have my support against such criminals and barbarians should you require it."
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6dfd9c No.28966
| Rolled 90, 75 = 165 (2d100) |
>>28965
[+10: Scary]
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6dfd9c No.28968
| Rolled 87, 5 = 92 (2d100) |
>>28941
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 4
Magic Bolt: 3
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. Crovetius lets out a sigh. The battle was almost too much for an old man like him. "I'll just be a minute, Hasruphel.", he says before collapsing into a deep slumber. [Sleep]
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6dfd9c No.28969
>>28957
>>28958
Guess this is how we part. Grit for the Grit God!
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6dfd9c No.28970
>>28965
>Cannibalism
>Worse than grooming violations
I SAW A MOOSE STACHE THAT DISAGREES WITH YOU!
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6dfd9c No.28972
| Rolled 68, 72 = 140 (2d100) |
>>28941
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet:
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; Scout out and seduce womens in the castle, after all, this could be their last day alive. Use this to also do a sleep
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6dfd9c No.28974
>>28952
"I'm afraid not chief, but thank you for the offer. Now, there are some much *thicker* members of the order…" Bran motions to Dalmador, already foaming at the mouth because a nearby knight hadn't yet polished the darkling blood of his chestplate; Dalmador's surprisingly clean, "…That would object to your practices, as for me, I am willing to let you do what your gods deem right, so long as you only butcher your own people and leave our dead to their rituals. To prevent some trouble from certain sods…." Bran again motions to Dalmador, "… I'm going to have to ask you to move your people's butchering and cooking activites to the mountains behind the gatehouse. We have bigger enemies then ourselves here, and Dalmador is to blind to see that, so to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, I must ask your people to preform this ritual somewhere out of the sight of the men. As a side note, excellent work by your men and women today on the walls, your archers are very skilled."
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6dfd9c No.28975
| Rolled 50, 11 = 61 (2d100) |
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
1. Bran sees the scene playing out before him, in awe of the sheer asinine stupidity of it, here these men just won a great battle at a great cost, and no sooner then the last scabby Darkling had disappeared in the treeline than some shitheads had decided that the momentary reprieve from the killing was to much and had to fly into a idiotic rage. "ENOUGH!" He booms, casting a baleful gaze upon the sorry scene cast before him, "There are to be no hangings unless the darklings consume a man of the order or one of the brave peasants who died in defense of the gatehouse. These men are to be buried with full honors. The Swamplings are to do with their own dead as they wish, BUT they are to do it in the mountains behind the gatehouse, away from the eyes of the men. We have bigger problems then the practices of a people we've been killing for hundreds of years, and bigger enemies then each other. Any man trying to sow discord in this Castle shall find himself guarding the Bridge when the next enemy wave hits, I swear unto the gods. We have a job, and that is to hold THIS FUCKING PASS, AND WE WILL DO THAT JOB SO THAT THE REALM MAY SURVIVE!" He looks at the men gathered around, taking a breath before speaking again. "We have all lost men here, and we needn't kill each other, the Wild King and his minions will do that gladly, now, honor our fallen comrades memories by surviving, persevering, and defeating the Wild King. He killed them, and we shall avenge them. Now, you all have jobs to do, we need to get this place ready for the next attack, and save what injured we can. We've already wasted enough time even having this discussion, now go, and do right by the dead. Do not make THEIR SACRIFICE, OUR SACRIFICE, IN VAIN!"
2. After this, the lord commander would stop by the crypt of the hero, offering a small prayer, then rest. He needed to get it while he could, for it would soon be long before he could again.
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6dfd9c No.28977
>>28975
+10 to that first roll for [Leader of Men]
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6dfd9c No.28987
| Rolled 17, 69 = 86 (2d100) |
1 - With the line held and many men fallen beneath his blade, Horgandr decides now would be a good time to get some well-earned sleep.
>+[Tenacious]
2 - Upon waking, Horgandr would carry out the orders of the Knight-Steward. These peasants, while valiant, have no skill. That's his job. Get them into proper fighting shape. Let the old curmudgeon have the Swamplings, earth-blooded peasants make a better mould for real warriors.
>Train and drill the peasant soldiers
>+[Inspiring Leader]
>>28942
Name: Horgandr Blackthorn
Age: 43
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: Horgandr was raised from birth as a servant of the Martyr, brought up in a religious commune dedicated to preserve the Martyr's legacy. His father served as captain of the Legacy Guard until his premature death fighting barbarian raiders from the north.
Horgandr took up his father's helm in the midst of the battle, when his soldiers were flagging. Impersonating his sire, Horgandr lead his men to victory, and thereafter became known as the Blackthorn, after a deadly vine of the region. Only a few short years later, Horgandr has been recalled from the Legacy commune, to defend his faith at Castle Heilger. In his lands he was a hero, here he is a common knight. But regardless of his rank, his title remains, and under the shade of his father's helm the Blackthorn will fight relentlessly for the good of his faith.
Grit: 2
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Fine Kite Shield, Fine Mace, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armour
Bonus: [Inspiring Captain] +10 all command rolls for groups of 40 or less
[Tenacious] You require 1 less action per day to rest.
Negative: [Surly Jerk] This boys abit of an ass and has made some enemies in the order that would gladly give you that last push over the edge.
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6dfd9c No.28990
| Rolled 1 (1d6) |
>>28532
Major injury roll
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6dfd9c No.28991
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>28990
V nice
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6dfd9c No.29017
>>28990
[Upgrade to critical wound]
Roll 1D6
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6dfd9c No.29035
| Rolled 37, 3 = 40 (2d100) |
>>28940
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 2
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
Having resolved to kill the Wild King or be killed I have come to the Hero's bastion to see the mistake of ages gone from this world.
I hail the gates for their commander >>28975 as I approach "An ally has come, an arch enemy of the Wild King, a lord without a home to return to until darkness is expelled from the land. These are dark times and you have dire need of a strong sword arm and perhaps a hope to nurture your men's spirits, I will take the tainted iron you would discard and make it clean!"
12 Gather unbroken weapons left by the darklings and purify them for the Steward to behold.
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
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6dfd9c No.29036
>>29035
"Come, any enemy of the Wild King is a friend of the Order in these trying times."
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6dfd9c No.29052
| Rolled 5 (1d6) |
>>29017
Critical wound roll 1d6
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6dfd9c No.29077
>>29052
[Head: Major Concussion: -15 to all rolls]
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6dfd9c No.29079
| Rolled 77, 98 = 175 (2d100) |
>>28941
Name: Siegward
Age: 30
Speciality: Sentinel
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Siegward appeared at the gates of Castle Heilger a decade ago with his fathers sigil on a letter of assignment in one hand and his favoured weapon in the other. Since joining the order Siegward has spent his days training and nights watching the walls and waiting for opponents to prove himself against. Thanks to his attitude and inability to speak Siegward is widely regarded as the weirdo on the wall by his compatriots and while they wouldn't betray him outright they would be very unlikely of endangering themselves beyond their duty for his benefit. If he could talk Siegward would still be a man of few words as he only holds respect for those that stay true to their duty and would rather let his convictions speak for who he is.
Armaments: Fine Guisarme, Fine Half-Plate, Fine Longword, Fine Dagger, Fine Kite shield
Grit: 2
-Bonus: [Master of Pole-arms] +10 to all pole-arm rolls
[Hawk-eye] +10 to all perception rolls
[Unnatural Reflexes] At the start of each combat roll a D6. On a 6 all opponents have -10 to their rolls
-Negative: [Mute] Good luck screaming for help
[Comrade only in name] If you get yourself stuck it’s unlikely anyone is coming to save you
[Core: Cracked Ribs : -5 to all actions]
1/2
Injury and fatigue call for good old fashioned bed rest
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6dfd9c No.29084
| Rolled 71 - 15 (1d100) |
Name: Gnupa Bjartmarsson
Age: 25
Speciality: Heavy infantry/Berserker
Rank: Visitor
Background: Hailing from the outskirts of Majewl, The first born son of Jarl Sigfast Bjartmarsson, Gnupa Bjartmarsson, ordered by his father, has called upon Battle-hardened men to answer the call of the order. This will be Gnupa's first test, as his personal goal is to appease the old gods through war, valor and the skulls of his enemies.
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
1/2. Me & huscarls will go rest
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6dfd9c No.29164
| Rolled 88 (1d100) |
[Random Encounter Roll]
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6dfd9c No.29179
| Rolled 37 (1d100) |
Cheeki Breeki
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6dfd9c No.29298
>>28944
1. [Minor Success] You search through the dead darklings finding all their weapons feel unnatural to the touch, however you do manage to collect arrows for later usage.
2. [Moderate Success] You take off with your corpses up the mountain for your “ritual”.
>>28953
1. [Moderate Success] You make your rounds of the castle proper ensuring all there are in proper standing with the gods. While walking the hallways your attention is drawn by a high giggling. Bursting into the common room you catch one of the northern barbarians half way undressing a Order Servant. Shouting in a rage the Order servant quickly scurries of, what will you do with this barbarian?
>>28955
1. [Minor Success] You help set up coordinate aid as the wounded are ferried out of the gatehouse and up to the castle
2. [Minor Success] The losses have been horrid with a huge number of knights and peasants being slain. You do your best to give them a proper burial taking the knights to the Crypts and the peasants being burned.
>>28957
1.[Minor Success] Realizing he looks nothing like a foul darkling Sylvan slinks back into the forest.
>>28959
1. [Minor Success] You help Malchai and the peasants deal with the dead.
2. [Major Success] You make it to your bunk in the gatehouse collapsing into the soft pillow and drifting off to sleep.
>>28965
1. [Major Success] With the help of Knight Malchai and Knight Marius deal with the dead. The rumors of cannibalism come from the Knight-Steward allowing the Swamplings to take their dead up the mountain for whatever they do to their dead which to many men means it must be cannibalism.
2. [Major Success] The priests are summoned as the move to inter all Knights into the Crypts of the Order. You spy the young Knight-Steward, marching over to give him a piece of your mind you are interrupted by the sounding of a horn. Someone approaches the gate with a flag of parley!
+[Condition: Tired -5 to all rolls]
>>28968
1.[Major Success] Crovetius collapses into a deep slumber and is carried to his bed by some servants.
>>28972
1.[Moderate Success] You find a beautiful young servant girl who is all too eager to enjoy some of your rough northern hospitality. However as you are about to get too it you are interrupted by a uncouth knight who begins cursing the girl and screaming something about damnation.
>>28975
1. [Moderate Success] You manage to calm the fears of most of the men as they grumble off, you see Dalmador is till less than pleased as he seems to be to about to start on one of his famous rants as a horn rings through the air, someone is at the gate.
>>28987
1. [Moderate Failure] You have a restless sleep [Condition: Troubled: -5 to next action]
2. [Moderate Success] You begin to train the peasants in some simple weapon drills, this would be a lot easier if the Knight-Steward would open the armory…
>>29035
1. [Minor Success] You purify one sword +[ Exotic Scimitar]
2. [Major Failure] However the next weapon you try and purify takes the form of a snake which lashes out at you +[Head: Dark Snakebite: -10 to all actions]
>>29079
1. [Moderate Success] You fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.
2. [Critical Success] You dream of a far off land where a man rides a horse of brilliant white, if only you could one day achieve the peace that he has +[Condition: Inspired: +20 to next action]
>>29084
1. [Minor Success] You sleep hoping tomorrow the world will stop spinning
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6dfd9c No.29300
>>29298
Butcher Bill
[Does not include PC's]
Pre-Battle:
15 Swampling raiders
25 Swampling Misc.
20 Knights of the Martyr
5 Order Servants
35 Peasant Hunters
25 Peasant Misc.
20 Huscarls
Survivors:
8 Swampling Raiders
18 Swampling Misc.
12 Knights of the Martyr
1 Order Servant
16 Peasant Hunters
18 Peasant Misc.
18 Huscarls
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6dfd9c No.29302
>>29300
Butcher Bill: Darkling
Pre-Battle:
500 Darklings
100 Darkling Veterans
1 Shadowkin
1 Darkwood Stalker
Survivors:
10 Darklings
40 Darkling Veterans
1 Shadowkin
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6dfd9c No.29304
>>29298
Day 2 Phase 3
Lord Kragoff’s Arrival
—-
Outside the gatehouse stand Lord Aster Kragoff of Morlik, his small domain borders the Orders own land and he has often been called one of the Orders few reaming friends. He has with him a host of 20 Knights and 100 Footmen. He wishes to help you with the siege for the glory of the New Gods.
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6dfd9c No.29305
>>28975
Malachai after a Long Day tracks down the Knight Commander. "Bran I got the supplies and watch set up as best I could. The East wall of the castle is sagging like an old woman's teat, and I am exhausted. have someone wake me if you need me, but until then I am going to sleep." He then looks down at Lord Kragoff. "And I know he's supposed to be a friend, but Aster is looking a might skeevie right now. Might wanna ask who these 'new gods' are." Of course Malachai whispers this as to not offend the Lord.
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6dfd9c No.29306
| Rolled 38 (1d100) |
>>29298
Name: Gnupa Bjartmarsson
Age: 25
Speciality: Heavy infantry/Berserker
Rank: Visitor
Background: Hailing from the outskirts of Majewl, The first born son of Jarl Sigfast Bjartmarsson, Gnupa Bjartmarsson, ordered by his father, has called upon Battle-hardened men to answer the call of the order. This will be Gnupa's first test, as his personal goal is to appease the old gods through war, valor and the skulls of his enemies.
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
1/2. Go see if this castle has an apothecary to treat my concussion. and if not go back to my chambers and rest
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6dfd9c No.29307
>>29304
The knight Commander looks down at the party from the Battlements of the Gatehouse, something about the grin on Lord Aster's face filling Bran with dread. He quickly calms his fears and hails the lord. "I bid thee well, Lord Aster, Friend of the Order. It brings me much joy to find you and your men untouched by this scourge that finds itself firmly set upon these lands. Now, my friend, I see that you wish to aid us in these dire times, and I can much respect and do appreciate that greatly, but the way that you can help us, and indeed the entire realm, if not the world, is to travel inland and inform all that you can of the Wild king's return, and to rally them to our side."
The Steward turns, facing now the Knight Malachai
"Aye, he does seem a bit off, he's usually stern as can be, and quiet as a mouse, but now he looks stark raving mad. Have the men ready for another assault, it seems the corruption of the Wild King may have taken one of our only friends as well."
He then turns back to look at the party below, "What say you, noble lord Aster?"
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6dfd9c No.29308
| Rolled 41, 39 = 80 (2d100) |
>>29298
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings
1. Finish resting.
2. Upon awakening, Marius gives a polite greeting to the Lord and his troops before going to help repair the damage to the gatehouse caused by the Darkwood Walker.
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6dfd9c No.29309
Barring any assault, these are the orders of the
Red is to fix the gatehouse and prepare for another assault, he can take what he deems necessary to do this. Arrow coverings are a must, as they massacred us last time.
The forces in the castle are ordered to see to it that it is brought up to shape, the mountains nearby should provide ample stone for this task. Any lumber that is required is to be taken from the castle stores or cut from the forest outside of the gatehouse, under armed guard of course. After that, the training of the peasants is to continue.
As a general order, do what your character can be best at, and don't dick around too much.
Also morgoth, I would much like you to cast detect evil on this nigga out front checking out the gatehouse.
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6dfd9c No.29310
As a aside, anyone that cannot currently help the castle out is permitted to go out hunting/ foraging for supplies, or any task which you deem beneficial in the long run
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6dfd9c No.29311
| Rolled 38, 54 = 92 (2d100) |
>>29298
Name: Malachai Springhill
Age: 23
Speciality: Fencing Fop
Rank: [Knights of the Martyr]
Background: Born ninth child and sixth son to Count Edward Springhill, Malchai was always a troublesome child from birth. He cried often had a ravenous appetite, kept his parents and siblings up often and early. This is not even mentioning the sheer drain of resources he was as a sixth son and ninth child over all.
Malachai's upbringing was odd. The family was bordering on destitute for nobility and his tutors when not part of the family were cut rate at best, thieves at worst. As such he did rather poorly in most of his classes, excepting swordplay which he took to quickly and gracefully. This lead to him causing trouble everywhere poking people with sticks and "practicing" his swordplay on his sister's dresses and more. Despite all this Malachai grew up into relatively decent young man. Sadly it was not to last.
One night as Malachai was out on the town we ran afoul of the eldest son of Duke Brownhill. What started as a series of veiled insults quickly degenerated into general enmity. Malachai was thrown out of the bad they were at and left. Later as he was making his way through the city he was jumped by several of Brownhill's sycophants. Malachai dispatched them quickly in a series of duels in full view of several guardsmen. Several of the sycophants were sons of other noble houses and died as a result of the duels. Thus Malachai found himself politicked out of his home and into the knights of the Martyr by Brownhill.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Rapier, Soft Leather Armor, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Swordmaster] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Fast] You always attack first
Negative: [Political Enemy] Someone in the order has been paid a lot of money to ensure your downfall
[Hot Tempered] You cannot pass on a direct challenge
1. Get some actual damn sleep
2. More sleep
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6dfd9c No.29318
| Rolled 52, 86 = 138 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger
–
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
+Tired: -5 to all rolls
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions—
1. Dalmador dozes of slightly after sitting down for a few moments. All of this yelling is really quite exhausting for the old man. [Doze off] [-5: Tired]
2. After that Dalmador finds a few minutes to bless his armor by finding a priest. Dalmador suspects Michelson is still alive, but he's not sure. In any event Dalmador is thankful to the gods that the plate stopped the arrow, and no doubt the gods will appreciate his strict observance in these dark times. [Personal grooming] [-5: Tired]
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6dfd9c No.29319
| Rolled 14, 87 = 101 (2d100) |
1/2 - Pompous shite, he keeps the armory barred to us when we need as many capable men with usable weapons as possible! I don't have time for his negligence. These men are going to learn how to fight, with or without the Steward's cooperation.
>Train the peasants
>Troubled: -5
>>29298
Name: Horgandr Blackthorn
Age: 43
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: Horgandr was raised from birth as a servant of the Martyr, brought up in a religious commune dedicated to preserve the Martyr's legacy. His father served as captain of the Legacy Guard until his premature death fighting barbarian raiders from the north.
Horgandr took up his father's helm in the midst of the battle, when his soldiers were flagging. Impersonating his sire, Horgandr lead his men to victory, and thereafter became known as the Blackthorn, after a deadly vine of the region. Only a few short years later, Horgandr has been recalled from the Legacy commune, to defend his faith at Castle Heilger. In his lands he was a hero, here he is a common knight. But regardless of his rank, his title remains, and under the shade of his father's helm the Blackthorn will fight relentlessly for the good of his faith.
Grit: 2
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Fine Kite Shield, Fine Mace, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armour
Bonus: [Inspiring Captain] +10 all command rolls for groups of 40 or less
[Tenacious] You require 1 less action per day to rest.
Negative: [Surly Jerk] This boys a bit of an ass and has made some enemies in the order that would gladly give you that last push over the edge.
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6dfd9c No.29320
| Rolled 5, 73 = 78 (2d100) |
>>29304
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour, [Exotic Scimitar]
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 2
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
[Head: Dark Snakebite: -10 to all actions]
>>29304
Giving the 'Lord Kragoff' a good long look and meeting the eyes of the fellow defenders I believe they understand my intentions
>>29307
"A moment Sir Bran, to allow me to verify what all here must feel."
12 Cast [Detect Evil] on 'Lord Kragoff'
[Head: Dark Snakebite: -10 to all actions]
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
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6dfd9c No.29321
>>29319
*cough* the armory is open to the knights and servants at all times you cuck *cough*
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6dfd9c No.29322
File: 1470495885978.jpg (901.13 KB,2048x1365,2048:1365,Napa-Valley-Wine-Train-Cas….jpg)
| Rolled 74, 70 = 144 (2d100) |
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
1. Head up to the castle, stop at the Crypt to pray for the souls we've lost in the battle, and for those yet to die in the battles of come, then rest.
2. After that, head back down to the Gatehouse to look for anything of note, while also taking note of the state of the Gatehouse itself.
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6dfd9c No.29323
| Rolled 27, 68 = 95 (2d100) |
>>29298
Name: Siegward
Age: 30
Speciality: Sentinel
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Siegward appeared at the gates of Castle Heilger a decade ago with his fathers sigil on a letter of assignment in one hand and his favoured weapon in the other. Since joining the order Siegward has spent his days training and nights watching the walls and waiting for opponents to prove himself against. Thanks to his attitude and inability to speak Siegward is widely regarded as the weirdo on the wall by his compatriots and while they wouldn't betray him outright they would be very unlikely of endangering themselves beyond their duty for his benefit. If he could talk Siegward would still be a man of few words as he only holds respect for those that stay true to their duty and would rather let his convictions speak for who he is.
Armaments: Fine Guisarme, Fine Half-Plate, Fine Longword, Fine Dagger, Fine Kite shield
Grit: 2
-Bonus: [Master of Pole-arms] +10 to all pole-arm rolls
[Hawk-eye] +10 to all perception rolls
[Unnatural Reflexes] At the start of each combat roll a D6. On a 6 all opponents have -10 to their rolls
-Negative: [Mute] Good luck screaming for help
[Comrade only in name] If you get yourself stuck it’s unlikely anyone is coming to save you
[Core: Cracked Ribs : -5 to all actions]
[Condition: Inspired: +20 to next action]
1. Our knights and servants are dead and the slack must be taken up, travel through the unmaimed peasants and spar with them to find any potential beyond that of bodies in a shield line [Combined pole-arm and perception of talent roll so I either pick one in which case it's a +25 or use both and get a +35]
2. Despite his bedrest the body still aches Siegward travels to the infirmary looking for anything to dull the pain until his body heals naturally
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6dfd9c No.29330
| Rolled 78, 27 = 105 (2d100) |
>>29298
>Name: Chaplain Merek Grimaldus
>Age: 42 winters
>Speciality: Rallying point, raising of Morale, religious duties
>Rank: [Knight of the Martyr]
>Background: Merek has been a member of the Church of the Martyr ever since he was a small child, taken in after being found on the streets thieving. Punished for his sins as a child and raised to never commit them again he has grown zealous of the religion that allowed him shelter and food. As a young man he learned of the Order of the Martyr and sought to join them and fulfill his debt to the church by holding Castle Heilger against the tide of the Wild King, and bring the order back to it's full complement and glory. Twenty long winters he spent as a member of the Order attempting to teach those who would see this position as a punishment, teach them of the glory and duty that their position held. Ten long winters since he began to use force to teach those who were unwilling. Five long winters since his Zeal grew and he began to see heresy within those who would not submit to the Order. A valued member of the Order and a rallying point to those who believe, many however keep a good enough distance away that Grimaldus's suspicions do not fall on them, so that they are not forced to submit to his inquisitions and tests of faith.
[Chaplain Merk Geimaldus]
Speciality: Chaplain
Armaments: Fine Mace, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Banner of the Marytr
Bonus:[Standard-Bearer] You carry the flag of the first Hero! All forces near the flag gain +5 but bad things would happen should you ever lose it.
[Priest of the Martyr] +10 to rally Knights of the Martyr
[Zeal] +5 to all combat rolls
[Hatred of the Damned] +10 versus Shadowkin
Negative: [Zeal] Every combat encounter roll 1d6. On a 1 you must pursue and cannot retreat.
[Hatred of the Damned] You must engage Shadowkin at all costs if in the same battle as they are.
[Suspicions of Heresy] You must spend 2 actions per day investigating for heresy among the ranks
1. PUT HIM THROUGH THE TESTS OF FAITH, IF HE SURVIVES THEN HE WILL BE LET GO, OTHERWISE HE WILL BE DEAD.
2. SEARCH OUT THESE RUMORS OF CANNIBALISM, SUCH HERESY SHALL NOT HIDE FROM MY SIGHT
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6dfd9c No.29333
| Rolled 16, 88 = 104 (2d100) |
>>29298
>>29330
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; Hmmm, I don't have to take this test, I am a guest of the Knight Steward and killing me would surely be his end, but I will take the test. This will confirm my faith in the new gods, as the priests that came to crown my father taught me. Then, I'll find that woman again and comfort her(Sleep roll, god dammit). I'm sure she must be scared after all this guy did.
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6dfd9c No.29334
>>29298
>>29333
Don't make me use a fucking grit point here, you fucking cunt. First of all, if Anniria is a zealot of the faith of the martyr, then why would there be multiple fucking gods? Second of all, why would the martyr care about fucking sex, this is war, that's gunna fucking happen. Third of all, how is Anniria then a zealot of all the gods in the faith, wouldn't that be contradicting of some of the other gods tenets, which would mean Anniria is a fucking heretic and probably insane and shouldn't even be a knight. Fourthly, fuck you for fucking cockblocking me you god damn kike bastard. Fifthly, I don't really want to kill another player so please don't make me pls
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6dfd9c No.29335
| Rolled 29, 37 = 66 (2d100) |
>>29298
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 4
Magic Bolt: 3
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. Crovetius stirs from his deep slumber. "The shadowkin! Where is she?" His aide rushes to him and explains that she hasn't been seen since she was struck by Sylvan's arrow. She is presumed to be alive. Crovetius gets to his feet, and sends Stella out the window, to search for the Shadowkin. Once the owl is gone, Crovetius sits down. "That Shadowkin is the head of their army. If she is killed, they will be much easier to break. We've already dealt their morale a blow by destroying the darkwood walker, but as long as she is out there, commanding them, we're still not out of the woods. Now, take a message to the Knight Steward." [Send Stella out to (carefully) find the Shadowkin."
>>29322
Hasruphel, Crovetius' servant, intercepts Bran on his way back to the Gatehouse. "Milord. I come bearing another message from Knight-Sorcerer Crovetius. He says that he's sent his owl out to look for the Shadowkin, and that once she finds her, he advises you to send an elite force out to kill her, and decapitate their force. He also asks if you could tell the men to keep their eye out for newts, or foul smelling yellow rocks, which he called sulphur. He needs the tongues of newts, and sulphur dust for one of his spells."
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6dfd9c No.29336
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6dfd9c No.29338
| Rolled 98, 44 = 142 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
After we have filled our bellies and had the Shaman bleed some of the swamplings and burn some of the meat for our gods, we wear the skulls on our belts and then use the rest of the bones as useful.
1. Darkling meat is poison. However, were there not some non-darklings in the enemy army?
Harvest the Darkling Bodies and prepare them for use in war. We will ring out the blood to dip in our arrows, the fat we can use for oil for lamps and fire, the skulls as more trophies, bones into bone armor, and the skin as leather and cloth once smoked and dried.
The flesh itself?
Hang the boned skinned drained meat on pikes and put them in the path of the next wave for the crows and flies, away from the camp so as not to cause disease to us.
2. Make some swampling pitfalls, traps, and punji pits all around the battlefield for the next wave.
The Darklings don't care about their dead, they tend to just march over or step on them as they pile on. Good, we can make spike traps that are activated when a Darkling corpse is stepped on or moved.
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6dfd9c No.29339
>>29335
Bran's personal Steward, Johan Van Müller, delivers a message back to the Wizard. It reads, "Should the Shadowkin be found, a team shall be dispatched most haste, we also have a missing man in those woods, see if your bird can find him as well."
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6dfd9c No.29647
| Rolled 16, 61, 68 = 145 (3d100) |
—Dark powers—
Wild King Approach: -30
Sacking of the Outer Kingdom: -10
Reinforcements: +5
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6dfd9c No.29648
| Rolled 24, 46 = 70 (2d100) |
[Leg: Sprained Ankle: -5 to[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
1.2. Return to the castle to rest and heal up.
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6dfd9c No.29649
>>29306
1. [Minor Failure] The castle surgeon is busy with more urgent cases and you are sent to the side to wait for treatment.
>>29308
1. [Minor Success] A restful slumber is had and you wake up refreshed.
2. [Minor Failure] Marius tries to help but is unskilled at masonry and only seems to get in the way..
>>29311
1.[Moderate Success] You finally get some sleep..
>>29318
1. [Minor Success] You take off your armor and settle into bed the soft cushions lulling you to sleep
2. [Major Success] After finding Michelson helping with the dead he leads you in a short prayer before you go to bed.
>>29319
1. [Major Success] You continue to drill the peasants 5/10 [Peasant Soldiers]
>>29320
1. [Moderate Success] You peer deep into the heart of Lord Kragoff and sense no taint of the Wild King on him.
>>29322
1. [Moderate Success] You head to the castle saying a short prayer to the Gods before heading to your room for a deep slumber.
2. [Moderate Success] The Gatehouse has surprisingly taken little damage during the fight with some chipped masonry and the busted ballista.
>>29323
1.[Major Success] You find a peasant by the name of Leo who has taken a liking with you and is almost a prodigy with a spear but still far from your level
+ Companion: Leo [Spear/Militia]
2. [Moderate Success] You are given a balm to rub on the wound and sent away [Add Injury 1/10 Turns Healing]
>>29330
1. [Moderate Success] You begin the trail of Faith placing the Northman within the Chamber of Silence to complete the ritual.
2. [Minor Failure] You search for these rumors of cannibalism and all you find are more rumors…
>>29333
1. [Moderate Failure] You are taken to a small stone room deep inside the bowels of the castle once pushed inside you find yourself face to face with a statue of Arshal the God of Revenge, in one hand rests his bloody sword Sineater and in his left he holds the Skull of Jorghim the old god.
2. [Major Success] As you stand before the statue you can feel it’s stone eyes boring into your skin. It’s presence causing you to sweat as you feel your very soul is judged, every sin and virtue seen plainly before the eyes of a God. Eventually the door behind you opens as a priest lets you out saying you have passed the trail. As you leave take one more peek into the room and see nothing but a plain statue standing where the fearsome visage of Arshal once was.
>>29335
1. [Minor Failure] Stella is sent out to scout then forest for the Shadowkin. As she fly low towards the canopy she is skimmed by an arrow and she pulls back towards the castle.
>>29338
1. [Critical Success] You begin to render the Darklings into useful materials, though they have little fat and their skin is too thin to be much use their bones are perfect! +50 Bone Armor +200 Bone Arrows +50 Bone Clubs
2. [Minor Success] You set up a few traps
>>29648
[Minor Success] You get some rest…
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6dfd9c No.29650
| Rolled 34, 74, 24 = 132 (3d100) |
>>29649
Day 2 Phase 4
Encroaching Darkness
—-
Lord Kragoff gives you a salute before leading his men off into the night heading for the Inner Kingdom. As the night wears on you can see masses of torches in the forest and can hear the marching of hundred of soldiers. As the sun begins to peak over the mountains you finally get an a view on the force that has gathered to take the Castle. At it’s core are about 1200 Darklings accompanied by 200 Shadowkin warriors and a contingent of siege equipment [1 Battering Ram 1 Moveable Bridge 2 Catapults]. Lurking of to the side you can see the survivors of the prior days siege licking their wounds so to speak.
A large Shadowkin clad in large black armour heads in-front of the army planting a banner with a gold bull head on a black field.
“I am Woden Blacksteel of the Golden Bulls, follower of the True King of this world! I command you to send me your best warrior out to meet me in a duel so I may break him to truly show the futility of resisting the True King!”
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6dfd9c No.29651
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6dfd9c No.29652
| Rolled 96, 47, 21 = 164 (3d100) |
>>29333
Correction +[Blessing of Arshal : +5 to combat while injured]
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6dfd9c No.29653
>>28203
Name: Hiram Aziz
Age: 39
Speciality: Surgeon
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Hiram Aziz was a student at a renowned medical academy before he was expelled for unorthodox experiments, aiming to not merely heal the human body, but to improve it. After his expulsion, he offered his services to the embattled Order of the Martyr, so that he may continue to refine his skills.
Grit: 3
-Bonus: Surgical Training, Unorthodox "Improvements"
-Negative: Creepy, Accusations of heresy
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6dfd9c No.29654
| Rolled 11, 54 = 65 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 Bone Arrows +50 Bone Clubs
Troops: 45 Warriors, 150 Misc Swamplings
1-2. Dole out the Bone Armor and Bone Clubs to the warriors.
"Some of you old farts, women, and young boys still have working arms. Stop standing around and grab a bow."
Train more Misc Swamplings into archers while that hothead duels fuckhisface
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6dfd9c No.29655
| Rolled 64, 48 = 112 (2d100) |
>>29649
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour, [Exotic Scimitar]
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 2
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
[Head: Dark Snakebite: -10 to all actions]
12 Enchant the [Exotic Scimitar] to give greater speed to the owner, the longer he can survive the greater our champion's chance at victory.
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6dfd9c No.29656
| Rolled 93, 13 = 106 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger
–
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
+Normal!
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions–
1. Dalmdador asks Michelson if he has any purity seals to attach to his armor. For some reason Dalmador is concerned about pestilence and other things. Why? Well, we know. This guy has a thing for hygiene. [Purity seals]
2. "WHERE THE HELL IS THE PITCH? IT NEEDS TO BE READY FOR THE NEXT ASSAULT? I SWEAR TO THE POWERS…" [Find the pitch: 2/4]
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6dfd9c No.29657
>>29311
As Surtin heard the challenge and looked to the men's reactions many heads turned to the fencer, I knew this blade with its enchantments would serve this man well for he had the courage to use it and I knew he was only moments away from accepting the challenge.
I walk over and offer the enchanted [Exotic Scimitar] to Malachai Springhill. "This blade will give you great speed, strike deeply."
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6dfd9c No.29658
>>29655
-10 for Dark Snakebite
+5 for Mastery in Virtue
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6dfd9c No.29659
| Rolled 21, 75 = 96 (2d100) |
>>29649
Name: Malachai Springhill
Age: 23
Speciality: Fencing Fop
Rank: [Knights of the Martyr]
Background: Born ninth child and sixth son to Count Edward Springhill, Malchai was always a troublesome child from birth. He cried often had a ravenous appetite, kept his parents and siblings up often and early. This is not even mentioning the sheer drain of resources he was as a sixth son and ninth child over all.
Malachai's upbringing was odd. The family was bordering on destitute for nobility and his tutors when not part of the family were cut rate at best, thieves at worst. As such he did rather poorly in most of his classes, excepting swordplay which he took to quickly and gracefully. This lead to him causing trouble everywhere poking people with sticks and "practicing" his swordplay on his sister's dresses and more. Despite all this Malachai grew up into relatively decent young man. Sadly it was not to last.
One night as Malachai was out on the town we ran afoul of the eldest son of Duke Brownhill. What started as a series of veiled insults quickly degenerated into general enmity. Malachai was thrown out of the bad they were at and left. Later as he was making his way through the city he was jumped by several of Brownhill's sycophants. Malachai dispatched them quickly in a series of duels in full view of several guardsmen. Several of the sycophants were sons of other noble houses and died as a result of the duels. Thus Malachai found himself politicked out of his home and into the knights of the Martyr by Brownhill.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Rapier, Soft Leather Armor, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Swordmaster] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Fast] You always attack first
Negative: [Political Enemy] Someone in the order has been paid a lot of money to ensure your downfall
[Hot Tempered] You cannot pass on a direct challenge
>>29657
Thanks Surtin, I am going to need a heavier to blade to pierce his armor anyways. Let's hope this bad boy does the trick.
1. Pray, pray for the first time in a long time. I will need all my strength and more for this.
2.Stride out to meet Woden in the duel. Get a feel for the blade I have it's balance and weight. Next the terrain, see how our footing is and how much room we have to maneuver. Finally how he fights, dodge him and see how he moves. He can't be too fast in that armor, once I figure out how he fights, bleed him. Strike the joints when he moves to strike or to follow me, stay out of his reach, make him overextend then punish him for it. This is duel, the stakes are just higher.
+Swordmaster
+Fast
+Surtin's Enchanted Exotic Scimitar
+Obeying compel for Hotblooded
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6dfd9c No.29660
| Rolled 55 (1d100) |
>>29659
–Woden Blacksteel—
+5 Shadowkin
+10 Swordmaster
+10 Corrupted Steel Sword
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6dfd9c No.29661
>>29650
The lord commander looks at the vast host arrayed before his gatehouse, as once again the Keep is assailed by the forces of the Dark. As he sees the black beast of a man issue his challenge, he can't help but snicker. He opens his mouth in response.
He gestures to the man standing before the castle
"Hey boys, look at this, we've got our shipment of sausages, but its got a pretty thick metal barrel around it! Say, pretty boy, how bout you and your army fuck back off to the Southern Swamps."
He then looks at the "knight" standing before the castle, before opening his mouth again
"OI, YOU FOOKIN WANKER, WE WUS FOOKIN SLEEPIN BEFORE YOUR FAT ARSE CAME HERE FOR YOUR…" the lord commander flails his wrist limply "….DUEL FOR THE HONOR OF THE (cue finger quotes and a high nasally voice) "TRUE KING". You want a fight, you'll get, granted that your fat ass can get out of all that sissy armor to fight proper. It's like you're afraid to get hurt, what with that mountain of steel you're wearing, boy. "
TheKnight-Stewart motions towards (>>29659) Malachai "You seem steamy and ready for a brawl, go show that tin can what we do to followers of the "True King" around here. Now, he's a big as a tree, and probably as slow too, so go for his joints and back. Get behind him, and he'll have a hard time hitting you."
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6dfd9c No.29662
>>29661
Malachai smirks, "Tell me something I don't know boss man. You may be a Lord Commander but I LIVE for dueling. Just be sure to have the bridge on a hair trigger so I can get back in when I'm done teaching this armored sausage how real men fight." He walks down in typical foppish fashion with a smile plastered to his face.
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6dfd9c No.29663
| Rolled 39, 61 = 100 (2d100) |
>>29649
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
1. While the noble fop distracts the lumpering sausage tin, lets move more men down to the keep, and sure up its defenses.
Bring down the Following (Which should be a free action) and construct hoardings
+ 8 Knights
+40 Peasants
and whatever swamplings baz wants to send
+[Leader of Men]
2. If sending men down isn't a free action, then use this one to construct hoardings, if not, then ready the gatehouse for assault (if curious dies, raise the drawbridge, boil the pitch, get the rocks, light the brazier, etc)
+ [Leader of Men]
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6dfd9c No.29664
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6dfd9c No.29665
| Rolled 1, 15 = 16 (2d100) |
>>29649
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
Marius strides out onto the ramparts, hammer in hand, and watches with a rather bored expression as Malachai strides out to duel the darkling champion.
"We should kill the fool with a ballista bolt. Not humor him with offering one of our own…"
1. Help >>29656 find the Pitch, for it seems, in his advanced age, he has lost track…
2. Practice with the hammer and limber up in preparation for the next oncoming assault.
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6dfd9c No.29666
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6dfd9c No.29667
| Rolled 53, 90 = 143 (2d100) |
Name: Gnupa Bjartmarsson
Age: 25
Speciality: Heavy infantry/Berserker
Rank: Visitor
Background: Hailing from the outskirts of Majewl, The first born son of Jarl Sigfast Bjartmarsson, Gnupa Bjartmarsson, ordered by his father, has called upon Battle-hardened men to answer the call of the order. This will be Gnupa's first test, as his personal goal is to appease the old gods through war, valor and the skulls of his enemies.
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
1. Pray to the old gods looking for strength for the battle to come
2. Align my huscarls on the walls to begin battle chants for morale boost
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6dfd9c No.29668
| Rolled 41, 67 = 108 (2d100) |
1/2 - Single combat, not for me. I always prefer a fight with several dozen spears behind me. On that note, while the Shadowkin are busy watching their leader get slain, I should get some crack training in on these peasants. The better prepared they are, the more likely they'll survive.
>Peasant Soldiers 5/10
>>29649
Name: Horgandr Blackthorn
Age: 43
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: Horgandr was raised from birth as a servant of the Martyr, brought up in a religious commune dedicated to preserve the Martyr's legacy. His father served as captain of the Legacy Guard until his premature death fighting barbarian raiders from the north.
Horgandr took up his father's helm in the midst of the battle, when his soldiers were flagging. Impersonating his sire, Horgandr lead his men to victory, and thereafter became known as the Blackthorn, after a deadly vine of the region. Only a few short years later, Horgandr has been recalled from the Legacy commune, to defend his faith at Castle Heilger. In his lands he was a hero, here he is a common knight. But regardless of his rank, his title remains, and under the shade of his father's helm the Blackthorn will fight relentlessly for the good of his faith.
Grit: 2
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Fine Kite Shield, Fine Mace, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armour
Bonus: [Inspiring Captain] +10 all command rolls for groups of 40 or less
[Tenacious] You require 1 less action per day to rest.
Negative: [Surly Jerk] This boys a bit of an ass and has made some enemies in the order that would gladly give you that last push over the edge.
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6dfd9c No.29669
>>29661
>>29662
"Aye Lord Commander, that IS a pretty big barrel of sausage. . ."
>>29662
"My men could use some extra sausage rations. If you beat him, be sure to send it to us."
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6dfd9c No.29670
>>29665
as much as i'd like to, by proxy, ruin red philosophy's everything, spend a grit point on that natural 1
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6dfd9c No.29671
>>29649
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Blacksmithing/Preaching
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 3
-Bonus: (One based off fluff)
-Negative: (One based off fluff)
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6dfd9c No.29674
| Rolled 90, 26 = 116 (2d100) |
>>29298
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion]
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. Time to return to the castle after a job well done.
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6dfd9c No.29675
| Rolled 68, 83 = 151 (2d100) |
Name: Siegward
Age: 30
Speciality: Sentinel
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Siegward appeared at the gates of Castle Heilger a decade ago with his fathers sigil on a letter of assignment in one hand and his favoured weapon in the other. Since joining the order Siegward has spent his days training and nights watching the walls and waiting for opponents to prove himself against. Thanks to his attitude and inability to speak Siegward is widely regarded as the weirdo on the wall by his compatriots and while they wouldn't betray him outright they would be very unlikely of endangering themselves beyond their duty for his benefit. If he could talk Siegward would still be a man of few words as he only holds respect for those that stay true to their duty and would rather let his convictions speak for who he is.
Armaments: Fine Guisarme, Fine Half-Plate, Fine Longword, Fine Dagger, Fine Kite shield
Grit: 2
-Bonus: [Master of Pole-arms] +10 to all pole-arm rolls
[Hawk-eye] +10 to all perception rolls
[Unnatural Reflexes] At the start of each combat roll a D6. On a 6 all opponents have -10 to their rolls
-Companion: Leo [Spear/Militia]
-Negative: [Mute] Good luck screaming for help
[Comrade only in name] If you get yourself stuck it’s unlikely anyone is coming to save you
[Core: Cracked Ribs : -5 to all actions] [1/10 Turns Healing]
While it is sad that the fencer gets to be the one to duel it is probably not Siegward's place to do one while injured
1. While the enemy is delayed by the duel we will need to be ready. Siegward takes Leo to the armoury to get him some decent protection and replace anything of his that was damaged by the Giant
2. The mind and body need to be ready for a battle above all else for a moment's hesitation to strike can mean death. Siegward engages in some light excercises and practice swings to limber up and focus his mind on what's coming
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6dfd9c No.29676
>>29653
[Hiram Aziz]
Speciality: Surgeon
Armaments: Fien Dagger, Thick Robes, Surgeon Kit
Bonus: [Surgical Training] +10 to all surgery rolls
[Unorthodox Imrpovements] +10 to all less then reputable medical practices
Negative: [Creepy] -10 to all social rolls
[Accusations of Heresy] You will always be the first suspect
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6dfd9c No.29677
>>29671
[Aelfwar Coenwulf]
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
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6dfd9c No.29678
| Rolled 8, 61 = 69 (2d100) |
>>29677
[Hiram Aziz]
Speciality: Surgeon
Armaments: Fien Dagger, Thick Robes, Surgeon Kit
Bonus: [Surgical Training] +10 to all surgery rolls
[Unorthodox Imrpovements] +10 to all less then reputable medical practices
Negative: [Creepy] -10 to all social rolls
[Accusations of Heresy] You will always be the first suspect
1: Provide medical attention to Gnulpa and anyone else who needs it.
2: Dissect the corpse of a Darkling and attempt to learn anything I can about the creatures.
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6dfd9c No.29679
| Rolled 27, 42 = 69 (2d100) |
>>29677
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 3
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
1&2. So many of the men have damaged weapons and armor from the battles. Start blessing the quenching oil and get to repairing equipment.
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6dfd9c No.29680
| Rolled 67, 18 = 85 (2d100) |
>>29649
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 4
Magic Bolt: 3
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1. I certainly won't send Stella out again for a little while. Despite our predicament, she needs her rest just as much as the rest of us. However, she's well enough to accompany me back to the tower. While I head up, I'll ask Hasruphel to carry a chair up for me. I'll probably be sitting there for a little while, and I'd like somewhere to rest. [Go up to the tower]
2. Battle is inevitable. Even if the darklings' champion is defeated, the horde will likely attack, as they have no honor. I will spend some time mentally preparing myself for the battle. [Meditate to boost spellpower]
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6dfd9c No.29681
| Rolled 23, 46 = 69 (2d100) |
>>29649
[Leg: Sprained Ankle: -5 to[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
1.2. Seek out the healer to get patched up. If they are to busy we can try to brace/wrap it ourselves to heal.
(get healed nigga)
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6dfd9c No.29719
>>29654
1. [Minor Success] Some of the young bows are drilled into shape +20 Warriors -20 Misc
>>29655
1. [Minor Success] You enchant the Scimitar with what power you can muster, it isn’t much but you hope any edge can help Malachai
>>29656
1. [Major Success] Michelson is quick to give you all sorts of purity seals to cover your armour with +[23 Purity Seals]
2. [Moderate Failure] You find nothing maybe Marius had better luck…
>>29659
1. [Minor Failure] As they always have your prayers go unanswered.
2. [Major Success] See bigger post.
>>29663
1. [Minor Success] You have constructed [Shitty Hoardings] and are now out of wood…
2. [Moderate Success] The Gatehouse is almost restocked 1/2
>>29665
1. [Minor Success] You have managed to locate the [Pitch]
2. [Moderate Failure] Oh god you think you pulled something +[Arm Injury: Pulled Muscle : -5 to next 2 rolls]
>>29667
1. [Minor Success] You pray hard but outside of the north the old gods rarely answer 1/2
2. [Major Success] You begin the chant with your huscarls and soon find many of the Knight and Order servants joining in [Order:+5]
>>29668
1. [Moderate Success] You continue the drills 7/10
>>29674
1. [Major Success] You move around the massive darkling force and sneak up past the tree line and towards the gatehouse. As you quickly jog the last part you meet eyes with a Knight and Shadowkin champion locked in combat. They stop both stunned as you jog by, you give them an awkward wave.
>>29675
1. [Moderate Success] You manage to acquire Leo a decent Bringadine for protection +[Spear/Soldier]
2. [Major Success] You limber up +[Condition: Limber +5 to next roll]
>>29678
1. [Major Failure] As you turn to heal Gnupa you find he’s wandered off, oh well…
2. [Moderate Success] A quick dissection of a Darkling reveals little you did not already know, they have long lean muscles and their pale eyes have a harsh time dealing with sunlight. You wonder why the Wild King would create creatures with such an obvious weakness….
>>29679
1. [Minor Success] There is no end to the work in a siege…
>>29680
1. [Moderate Success] Your old bones ache as your servant helps you up the tower
2. [Moderate Failure] You can’t seem to concentrate today [Condition: Nervous: -5 to all actions for the day]
>>29681
1. [Minor Success] You get a cold wet cloth draped over it and take some time to relax [Sprained Ankle 2/6 turns]
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6dfd9c No.29720
>>29719
Day 3 Phase 1
Gatehouse Duel
—-
Malachai and Wooden meet into combat beneath the Gatehouse as the suns begins to rise causing their swords to glitter as if made of light themselves. Malachai starts the duel rushing forward with a barrage of blows attacking Woden’s joints hoping to find a weak-spot in his armor. Sadly he cannot find one as Woden responds with heavy swings that Malachai barely manages to dodge thanks to a little enchanted help. Eventually a stalemate if formed as Malachai is never able to land a strong enough hit to break Woden’s armour and Woden is unable to hit Malachai at all. It would take only one slip up on either side to end this duel…
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6dfd9c No.29722
| Rolled 4 (1d6) |
>>29719
Mood Roll
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6dfd9c No.29723
| Rolled 72, 30 = 102 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger
–
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
+Normal!
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions–
1. Dalmador attaches the seals to his armor. This will inspire the men to better hygiene and grooming habits in the future. [Attack purity seals to inspire the men about grooming habits] {+23 purity seals}
2. After that Dalmador heads down to the smith to get his sword and armor engraved with proper purity runes and other fancy things that should have been put on but weren't. This will surely inspire the men! [Head to the smithy for purity runes]
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6dfd9c No.29724
>>29723
That first action should read 'attach'.
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6dfd9c No.29725
| Rolled 56, 31 = 87 (2d100) |
>>29719
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour, [Exotic Scimitar]
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 2
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
[Head: Dark Snakebite: -10 to all actions]
1 I will need rest to heal this head wound [Head: Dark Snakebite: -10 to all actions]
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
2 Construct a Sanctuary where I can focus and rest in meditation
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6dfd9c No.29726
| Rolled 66, 84 = 150 (2d100) |
1 - Good, we're getting somewhere. Let's just hope that nobleborn can keep the Shadowkin busy long enough to let these men finish their regiments.
>Peasant Soldiers 7/10
>>29720
Name: Horgandr Blackthorn
Age: 43
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: Horgandr was raised from birth as a servant of the Martyr, brought up in a religious commune dedicated to preserve the Martyr's legacy. His father served as captain of the Legacy Guard until his premature death fighting barbarian raiders from the north.
Horgandr took up his father's helm in the midst of the battle, when his soldiers were flagging. Impersonating his sire, Horgandr lead his men to victory, and thereafter became known as the Blackthorn, after a deadly vine of the region. Only a few short years later, Horgandr has been recalled from the Legacy commune, to defend his faith at Castle Heilger. In his lands he was a hero, here he is a common knight. But regardless of his rank, his title remains, and under the shade of his father's helm the Blackthorn will fight relentlessly for the good of his faith.
Grit: 2
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Fine Kite Shield, Fine Mace, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armour
Bonus: [Inspiring Captain] +10 all command rolls for groups of 40 or less
[Tenacious] You require 1 less action per day to rest.
Negative: [Surly Jerk] This boys a bit of an ass and has made some enemies in the order that would gladly give you that last push over the edge.
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6dfd9c No.29727
>>29726
Second roll was to get some rest, derr
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6dfd9c No.29728
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 40, 90 = 130 (2d100) |
>>29719
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
1. Continue to get the men I ordered last turn down to the gatehouse, and to get the needed supplies down there as well.
[Leader of Men]
2. Alright boys, here's how its gonna go, I want archers in the hoardings, swordsmen behind, and pikes in back. Archers, if our noble fop is to fall, then you are to rain hell upon the darklings and the shadowkin dirt. Remember, we are all that stands between the rest of the world and the fury of the wild king! IF WE FALL, THEN SO TO DOES THE WORLD AROUND US, SO LET US NOT GO GENTLE, LET US NOT FALL TO THE CORRUPTION OF THE DEVIL HIMSELF. NO! LET US STAND UNITED; KNIGHT, PEASANT, SWAMPLING! UNDER THE EYES OF THE WILD KING, WE ARE ALL THE SAME, AND WE SHALL DIE THE SAME IF WE FALTER! SO LET US STAND, LET US RISE, AND CAST THE ABOMINATIONS BEFORE US BACK INTO THE PIT FROM! WHENCE! THEY! CAME!
[Leader of Men]
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6dfd9c No.29729
>>29728
Gatehouse restock 1/2
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6dfd9c No.29730
| Rolled 41, 28 = 69 (2d100) |
>>29719
>>29720
>>29649
Name: Malachai Springhill
Age: 23
Speciality: Fencing Fop
Rank: [Knights of the Martyr]
Background: Born ninth child and sixth son to Count Edward Springhill, Malchai was always a troublesome child from birth. He cried often had a ravenous appetite, kept his parents and siblings up often and early. This is not even mentioning the sheer drain of resources he was as a sixth son and ninth child over all.
Malachai's upbringing was odd. The family was bordering on destitute for nobility and his tutors when not part of the family were cut rate at best, thieves at worst. As such he did rather poorly in most of his classes, excepting swordplay which he took to quickly and gracefully. This lead to him causing trouble everywhere poking people with sticks and "practicing" his swordplay on his sister's dresses and more. Despite all this Malachai grew up into relatively decent young man. Sadly it was not to last.
One night as Malachai was out on the town we ran afoul of the eldest son of Duke Brownhill. What started as a series of veiled insults quickly degenerated into general enmity. Malachai was thrown out of the bad they were at and left. Later as he was making his way through the city he was jumped by several of Brownhill's sycophants. Malachai dispatched them quickly in a series of duels in full view of several guardsmen. Several of the sycophants were sons of other noble houses and died as a result of the duels. Thus Malachai found himself politicked out of his home and into the knights of the Martyr by Brownhill.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Fine Rapier, Soft Leather Armor, Fine Dagger, Enchanted Exotic Scimitar
Bonus: [Swordmaster] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Fast] You always attack first
Negative: [Political Enemy] Someone in the order has been paid a lot of money to ensure your downfall
[Hot Tempered] You cannot pass on a direct challenge
1. See if I can remember a Hymn or litany to sing under my breath while fighting. If the gods bless me, great. If it just pisses this fucker off, great.
2. Well this is getting neither of us anywhere fast. Time for trying something a little different. Sun's rising and this guy is a Shadowkin, time to use that. Feign exhaustion, then when he commits to s trike dodge and maneuver him to get the sun in his eyes. While that's got him flummoxed, slip behind him and strike the more exposed rear joints of him armor, specifically the knees, the bottom of shoulders, elbows and neck.
+Swordmaster
+Fast
+Surtin's Enchanted Exotic Scimitar
+Obeying compel for Hotblooded
+5 from the chant led by Gnupa in the ramparts?
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6dfd9c No.29733
| Rolled 96 (1d100) |
>>29730
–Woden Blacksteel—
+5 Shadowkin
+10 Swordmaster
+10 Corrupted Steel Swor
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6dfd9c No.29734
| Rolled 97, 41 = 138 (2d100) |
>>29719
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Pitch
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
[Arm Injury: Pulled Muscle: -5 to next 2 rolls]
1. Help get the pitch ready in the gatehouse so that it can be tossed down on invaders in a moment's notice. -5
2. Get into position and stand at the ready, as per Bran's orders. -5
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6dfd9c No.29735
>>29680
On the path to find solitude for rest I feel the presence of a sorcerer "A moment, I am spent but you might be able to help that young man out there"
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6dfd9c No.29737
>>29730
spend both grit on action 2, for all the good it won't do.
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6dfd9c No.29738
| Rolled 90, 10 = 100 (2d100) |
>>29719
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 3
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
1. The equipment repairs are never done.
2. During the duel Urist enters the temple and prays to Hardin to bless Sir Malachai. To sharpen his blade so he may strike down the darkling champion, and to bolster his armor so that no blade of the dark may harm him.
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6dfd9c No.29741
>>28203
Name: Tancred the Reckless
Age: 26
Speciality: Medium Infantry
Rank: [Order Servant]
Background: a stalwart boy repudiated by his drunkard father at a young age, he has since striven to prove a man worthy to himself and his peers to sate his deep complex of recognition. Always engaging in dangerous exhibitions and impossible odds, life eventually lead him to seek the harshest training a man would be willing to provide. Thus he became Dalmador the Scarred's squire and on a regiment that bordered torture, this boy became a rock of a man. Still retaining his thin figure, his muscles became steel bound and his mind… still reckless. Nevertheless he proved a man capable of reliably obeying orders and of upholding the grooming standard.
He sees the Wild King's siege as merely another opportunity to test himself regardless of what other consequences the invasion has for the world.
Grit: 3
-Bonus: [Made of Steel][Expert Climber][Unimpossible Odds]
-Negative: [Rash][Adrenaline Addict][Youthful Delinquent]
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6dfd9c No.29746
| Rolled 70, 98 = 168 (2d100) |
>>29735
Crovetius smiles as he looks past the speaker, leaning on his staff. "I think you will find, my friend, that it is my job to help all of these young men out here. If you mean one of them in particular, then you'll have to be more specific, as these eyes see nothing. I was, however, just about to try to help out our champion, if that is what you mean."
>>29719
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 4
Magic Bolt: 3
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. The fight below may go poorly for our champion at any time, but I have a plan which could help. The darklings may get enraged if I interfere in the fight directly, but if the sun were to put off a little extra light, then that would merely be an unfortunate occurrence for anyone facing it at the time. When Malachai's back is to the sun, and Woden is facing it, I shall cast Flare, and attempt to focus every bit of light into the darkling champion's eyes. [Cast flare at the combat when it only endangers Woden.] [-5 from Nervous]
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6dfd9c No.29747
| Rolled 2 (1d6) |
>>29746
And the d6 to see if the spell is supercharged or erratic.
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6dfd9c No.29748
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6dfd9c No.29750
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>29737
[Critical Injury: Woden]
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6dfd9c No.29756
| Rolled 19, 21 = 40 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 Bone Arrows +50 Bone Clubs
Troops: 65 Warriors, 120 Misc Swamplings
1-2. More archers! Pick up those bows swamplings!
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6dfd9c No.29758
| Rolled 2 (1d6) |
>>29750
Rolling for Malachai
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6dfd9c No.29761
| Rolled 1, 90 = 91 (2d100) |
>>29719
Name: Gnupa Bjartmarsson
Age: 25
Speciality: Heavy infantry/Berserker
Rank: Visitor
Background: Hailing from the outskirts of Majewl, The first born son of Jarl Sigfast Bjartmarsson, Gnupa Bjartmarsson, ordered by his father, has called upon Battle-hardened men to answer the call of the order. This will be Gnupa's first test, as his personal goal is to appease the old gods through war, valor and the skulls of his enemies.
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
1. Go to the armory to get a shield
2. Eat some stew
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6dfd9c No.29762
| Rolled 91, 36 = 127 (2d100) |
>>29761
V nice
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6dfd9c No.29763
>>29761
>>29762
might want to spend a grit point
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6dfd9c No.29779
| Rolled 40, 44 = 84 (2d100) |
>>29649
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; Ugh, am so tired. I'll find that fine maiden and give a quick tumble and cuddle so when I wake up I can relieve the knights at the wall on a full tank.
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6dfd9c No.29785
>>29761
Local barbarian decapitates self with shield
"How the fuck did he do that?" asks perplexed Knight-Steward
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6dfd9c No.29786
>>29779
Cockblocked by Anniria again. lol2bad4u
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6dfd9c No.29788
>>29761
Spending last grit point on action 1
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6dfd9c No.29789
| Rolled 64, 59 = 123 (2d100) |
>>29719
Name: Siegward
Age: 30
Speciality: Sentinel
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Siegward appeared at the gates of Castle Heilger a decade ago with his fathers sigil on a letter of assignment in one hand and his favoured weapon in the other. Since joining the order Siegward has spent his days training and nights watching the walls and waiting for opponents to prove himself against. Thanks to his attitude and inability to speak Siegward is widely regarded as the weirdo on the wall by his compatriots and while they wouldn't betray him outright they would be very unlikely of endangering themselves beyond their duty for his benefit. If he could talk Siegward would still be a man of few words as he only holds respect for those that stay true to their duty and would rather let his convictions speak for who he is.
Armaments: Fine Guisarme, Fine Half-Plate, Fine Longword, Fine Dagger, Fine Kite shield
Grit: 1
-Bonus: [Master of Pole-arms] +10 to all pole-arm rolls
[Hawk-eye] +10 to all perception rolls
[Unnatural Reflexes] At the start of each combat roll a D6. On a 6 all opponents have -10 to their rolls
-Companion: Leo [Spear/Soldier]
-Negative: [Mute] Good luck screaming for help
[Comrade only in name] If you get yourself stuck it’s unlikely anyone is coming to save you
[Core: Cracked Ribs : -5 to all actions] [2/10 Turns Healing]
[Condition: Limber: +5 to all actions for the day]
With the duel ending the battle will start soon
1. Siegward directs Leo to take up a position on the wall, coddling will do him no good he will either live or die at the edge of the blade
2. While the boy takes his place Siegward quickly prays to the gods and takes his own position at the walls opposite one of the siege towers
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6dfd9c No.29805
| Rolled 46, 98 = 144 (2d100) |
>>29681
[Leg: Sprained Ankle: -5 to[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Sprained Ankle 3/6 turns till healed
1.2. See if I can get the ballista working again
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6dfd9c No.29838
>>29723
1. [Moderate Success] You attach the purity seals upon your armor! You truly are the most pure in this gatehouse!
2. [Minor Failure] You probably shouldn’t abandon your post if the gatehouse is soon to be attacked
>>29725
1. [Minor Success] With a light application of magic you manage to heal the wound.
2. [Minor Failure] You are unable to find such a place in the packed gatehouse
>>29726
1. [Major Success] The [Peasant Soldiers] are done training! They might actually put up a fight now!
2.[Major Success] You take a quick powernap
>>29728
1. [Minor Success] The forces are reassigned and the supplies are ferried down
2. [Critical Success] The men have become accustomed to your commands and are rallied once more the defense of the gatehouse -[Recently Promoted] +[Order Forces: +15]
>>29730
1. [Minor Success] You remeber a poem your mother once taught you:
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
2. [Minor Success] You grit your teeth as you leap forward slashing deep into his knee joint. A trial of blood follows your scimitar as you withdraw desperately trying to stay out of the massive Shadowkn’s range. However you are just not fast enough as the massive sword cuts into your arm slicing through your leather armor like paper. The pain overtakes you in red with the last memories you will most likely have are of the sneering Shadowking towering above you…
+[CRITICAL Injury:Arm: Severed Arm Mortal Wound: 2 turns]
>>29734
1. [Critical Success] The pitch is set up in the most effective places for the most coverage of besieging forces.
2. [Minor Failure] This might not be the most protected position but it’s the best you’ll get
>>29738
1. [Major Success] The repairs are done and forces are sure to have abetter chance now [Order:+10]
2. [Major Failure] You can't even bring yourself to pray in such dark times [Condition: Disheartened: -10 to all rolls for 3 turns]
>>29734
1. [Critical Success] The pitch is set up in the most effective places for the most coverage of besieging forces.
2. [Minor Failure] This might not be the most protected position but it’s the best you’ll get
>>29746
1. [Critical Success] You castFflare with the sun catching the eye of the Shadowkin brute, however it may have been two little, though you managed to stop him from outright killing the boy he still did lose an arm…
>>29756
1. [Minor Failure] They train but do they learn?
>>29761
1. [Minor Success] You manage to get your hands on an [Average Shield] for a nice peasant
2. [Major Success] Damn that is some fucking good stew [Condition: Sated: +10 to next two rolls]
>>29779
1. [Minor Success] You don’t find the maiden but you do find a rather portly cook who is more than happy to help you with some release. After a rather mediocre lay you grab some shut eye.
>>29789
1. [Moderate Success] You head up the gatehouse to watch the duel and prepare for battle
2. [Moderate Success] As many prayers are they go unanswered however you do feel slightly calmer [Condition: Calm: +5 to next roll]
>>29805
1. [Critical Success] Huh, seems the damage wasn’t that bad. You mange to get a new rope and it’s good as new! [2 bolts]
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6dfd9c No.29839
>>29838
Day 3 Phase 2
Dark Victory
—-
The duel ends as quickly as it started with Malachai overreaching to get a slash on Woden’s knee and then failing to get out of range in time. The Knight lies bleeding on the ground as Woden Blacksteel raises his severed arm towards the gatehouse.
“You are next fools!”
With this the invading army gives a fearsome roar as they begin to charge…
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6dfd9c No.29840
>>29839
Woden Blacksteel
[Major Wound: Hamstring: -15 to all rolls]
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6dfd9c No.29841
| Rolled 61, 24 = 85 (2d100) |
>>29839
>>29839
[Leg: Sprained Ankle: -5 to[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Sprained Ankle 4/6 turns till healed
1.2.with the end of the duel the champion takes aim at the darling brute placing a massive ballista bolt into his chest.
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6dfd9c No.29842
>>29741
[Tancred the Reckless]
Speciality: Squire
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Poor Chain-mail, Average Wooden Shield
Bonus: [Made of Steel] +5 to all combat rolls
[Expert Climber] +10 to all climbing rolls
[Unimpossible Odds] +5 to all rolls when outnumbered!
Negative: [Rash] Who cares about orders! Not you! -10 to follow orders to stop retreat!
[Adrenaline Addict] If there is a fight going on you must be in it or moving to it
[Youthful Delinquent] Not many knight like you -5 to interact with Knights
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6dfd9c No.29843
| Rolled 78, 11 = 89 (2d100) |
>>29838
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 3
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition: [Disheartened: -10 to all rolls for 3 turns]
1&2. Begin making bolts for the Ballista. Pray while they are forged to bless them with the holy power of Hardin
-Disheartened (-10)
+Master-Smith (+5)
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6dfd9c No.29844
| Rolled 13, 60 = 73 (2d100) |
>>29838
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour, [Exotic Scimitar]
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 2
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
12 Berserk on Malachai. "Fallen heroes, hear the Valkyrie's cry! With the Red Rage of Battle, bind this man's eyes…
Where manners mild before had lurked, make him go…BERSERK!!"
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6dfd9c No.29846
| Rolled 48, 25 = 73 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor [+23 Purity Seals], Fine Dagger
–
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
+Normal!
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions–
1. Dalmador orders the men to defend the gatehouse as usual. He feels quite peppy about his new armor, so he doesn't yell that much. That much. Still some, though. [+10: Scary] [Defend the gatehouse]
2. In order to boost morale Dalmador personally wades into combat: he slashes brutally, honestly, and quite thoroughly. [Wade in]
>>29741
"BOY! BOY! DEFEND THE GATEHOUSE!"
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6dfd9c No.29850
| Rolled 3, 92 = 95 (2d100) |
>>29838
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Pitch
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
1 and 2. "Idiot boy, taking the challenge like that!" Marius raised his hammer as the enemy force surged forward.
"THEY STEP ONE FOOT ON THIS WALL, I'LL GRIND THEIR BONES TO POWDER! FOR THE ORDER!"
Fight back against the invaders. Give no quarter.
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6dfd9c No.29867
| Rolled 54, 22 = 76 (2d100) |
>>29838
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 3
Magic Bolt: 3
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. Here I go again, I wish that I were a healer, and could do something about that boy out there, but I am an old magus, not learned in the art of mending. However, I excel at destruction. That champion can be killed like anything else. Someone else is bound to fire on him, and will probably get the credit for the kill, but mine is a thankless job, and I do it happily. I seem to be low on Magic Bolt, and I can't for the life of me remember the reagents. Cornwallis, pls help. What are the components to Magic Bolt? Despite my dwindling reagents, I shall cast Magic Bolt again, for there is little else I can do at this range without my spells becoming dangerous overkill. [Cast Magic Bolt at Woden Blacksteel. Fucker's got a -15 to resisting it or something.] [-5 from Nervous]
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6dfd9c No.29868
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>29867
And the die for Supercharged [6] or Erratic [1]
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6dfd9c No.29877
| Rolled 7, 57 = 64 (2d100) |
>>29839
>>29846
[Tancred the Reckless]
Speciality: Squire
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Poor Chain-mail, Average Wooden Shield
>Bonus:
[Made of Steel] +5 to all combat rolls
[Expert Climber] +10 to all climbing rolls
[Unimpossible Odds] +5 to all rolls when outnumbered!
>Negative:
[Rash] Who cares about orders! Not you! -10 to follow orders to stop retreat!
[Adrenaline Addict] If there is a fight going on you must be in it or moving to it
[Youthful Delinquent] Not many knight like you -5 to interact with Knights
1. Rush to the Armory and go get a Fine Kite and a Fine Brigandine, take advantage of the chaos to sneak in should permission be barred.
2. Groom self and defend the Gatehouse. [+5: Made of Steel][+5: Unimpossible Odds][+10: Scary (Dalmador's Orders)]
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6dfd9c No.29882
| Rolled 5, 32 = 37 (2d100) |
>>29839
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion] -> 0
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. In an awkward position somewhat behind enemy lines it was up to Sylvan to make as much of a difference as he could. With some luck his arrows would be mistaken for friendly fire. His target would of course be the enemy commander once more. He had already shot a Shadowkin once, now the time had come to take out whomever else was leading or at least organizing the charge.
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6dfd9c No.29883
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6dfd9c No.29886
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 15, 56 = 71 (2d100) |
>>29838
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
1/2. Bran looked down at the bleeding knight, his arm lying nearby in the hands of the bloated champion of the Dark King. He couldn't help but feel that this outcome was inevitable, and that maybe if he himself had gone out to fight the brute, maybe things would be different. But alas, the chains of command had kept him here, making sure the gatehouse was properly supplied , and that was ultimately more helpful then going out and getting killed. Although it pained him at times, Bran did ultimately understand that as a commander, he cannot do everything himself, and sometimes, people have to get hurt, and often die after, for progress to be had. BUT, that did not mean that the men, men like Malachai, needed to die in vain. In their place, the survivors; they would fight on, the strength of those who came before and to ensure the future of those who come after pushing them to the very limits of mortal strength. And so it would be now, that Bran would fight, he would fight with the Strength of a Thousand men. For the Order, for the Gods, For the Hero, and For the World. "MEN,STAND FAST, AND HOLD THE LINE. THIS KEEP HAS STOOD FAST FOR 800 YEARS, BUILT BY THE VERY HERO WHO STOPPED THE WILD KING LONG AGO. HONOR OUR DEAD, HONOR HIS MEMORY, AND HONOR THE GODS THEMSELVES AS YOU FIGHT, YIELD NOT A INCH, AND SLAUGHTER THESE BARBARIANS THAT STAND POSED TO TEAR DOWN ALL THAT MAN HAS BUILT!"
[Leader of Men]
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6dfd9c No.29907
| Rolled 57, 28 = 85 (2d100) |
>>29838
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; Ugh, definitely not the best, but I needed that. C'mon lets go Adolf, we got a war to fight. Hmmm, what the fuck is going on out here? What a damn mess, you southerners, fah. I better get my bow out and snipe the enemy commanders, I don't think these men can fight anything more than a mindless horde.
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6dfd9c No.29908
| Rolled 29, 25 = 54 (2d100) |
1/2 - Basic training is through, and just in time, too. Seems the northman wasn't quite as skilled as he thought. Not my concern. What IS my concern is that the Darkies aren't going to wait any longer. So we'll give em something worth waiting for! Get the peasant soldiers to the garrison near the gatehouse, keep the skilled warriors at the battlements. And then, await further orders. Without them, best I can do is hold these Darkies off.
>>29838
Name: Horgandr Blackthorn
Age: 43
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: Horgandr was raised from birth as a servant of the Martyr, brought up in a religious commune dedicated to preserve the Martyr's legacy. His father served as captain of the Legacy Guard until his premature death fighting barbarian raiders from the north.
Horgandr took up his father's helm in the midst of the battle, when his soldiers were flagging. Impersonating his sire, Horgandr lead his men to victory, and thereafter became known as the Blackthorn, after a deadly vine of the region. Only a few short years later, Horgandr has been recalled from the Legacy commune, to defend his faith at Castle Heilger. In his lands he was a hero, here he is a common knight. But regardless of his rank, his title remains, and under the shade of his father's helm the Blackthorn will fight relentlessly for the good of his faith.
Grit: 2
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Fine Kite Shield, Fine Mace, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armour
Bonus: [Inspiring Captain] +10 all command rolls for groups of 40 or less
[Tenacious] You require 1 less action per day to rest.
Negative: [Surly Jerk] This boys a bit of an ass and has made some enemies in the order that would gladly give you that last push over the edge.
>+[Peasant Soldiers]
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6dfd9c No.29930
| Rolled 84, 38 = 122 (2d100) |
welp rolling
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6dfd9c No.29932
>>29886
- Negative: [Recently Promoted] - When things go wrong, they go even worse all failures count as one degree more severe
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6dfd9c No.29934
| Rolled 42, 72 = 114 (2d100) |
Name: Aliet Noer
Age: 22
Speciality:Falconry Archery
Rank: Knight of the Martyr
Background: Aliet was always fascinated with birds her whole life. She's always dreamt of one day taking flight with her winged companions and focused on becoming as close to possible with them as she could. So she decided she would take up the art of falconry in order to both be close to her favorite species as well as serve her home as a knight. Now with her large hawk Ròsperè she serves the wall to hold the keep.
Grit: 3 [See section]
[Aliet Noer]
Speciality: Falconer
Armaments: Fine Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Fine Mail Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Falcon 'Rospere'
Bonus: [Falconry] +10 to all falconery rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
1/2. Oh man, I must have been out a long time. Well, that lad that just got his arm cut off looks like he needs help, I'll jump off the gatehouse and go help him then!
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6dfd9c No.29936
| Rolled 97, 50, 46 = 193 (3d100) |
—–
Darkling Forces: +5
Vs.
Order Forces: +25
—–
++Deus Ex Roll++
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6dfd9c No.29937
| Rolled 16 (1d100) |
>>29936
—Woden—
Try to fucking survive roll: -15
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6dfd9c No.29940
| Rolled 86, 90, 75, 80 = 331 (4d100) |
>>29937
Power-grab Roll: Darkling Witch: +10
Lord Kragoff's Charge: +5
Darkling Morale:
Shadow-kin Morale:
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6dfd9c No.29941
>>29841
1. [Moderate Success][Enemy Grit Point Spent] You fire a bolt straight at the chest of the shadowkin brute who only narrowly manages to dodge it.
>>29844
1. [Moderate Success] You craft 7 ballista bolts
>>29846
1. [Minor Success] You scream at the cowards to get in line and get those shields up! [Order:+5]
2. [Minor Failure] You join the melee pushing ladders and repelling any who would dare set foot upon your gatehouse! You however are getting old and can no longer fight as when you where young and mange to get hit [Minor Injury: 2D6]
>>29850
1. [Major Success] Hammer in hand you smash into any shadowkin or darkling that attempts to scale the walls. You soon turn into a lynch pin for all around you holding firm when others would break
>>29867
1. [Minor Success] With your last crushed firefly and pure river water you cast Magic Bolt which flies across the battlefield smashing into Woden’s chest cracking his chest plate and throwing him to the ground.
>>29877
1. [Major Failure] You have no time for this, you have a gatehouse to defend!
2. [Moderate Success] You throw yourself into the fray helping push back ladders and attacking any who would attempt to gain ground. The fighting is brutal but the gatehouse is holding.
>>29882
1.[Whitedeath you are already back in the castle]
>>29886
1. [Minor Success] You never were the best with a longsword, but they could never say you were no the most zealous. Leading from the front you fighting with the best of them, the shitty hoardings doing wonders to protect you from the arrows!
>>29907
1. [Minor Success] You take out your bow joining the defenders, every shot hits true as there are so many enemies but you do seem to hit a few you think are commanders.
>>29908
1. [Minor Failure] You have no orders to bring down men to the gatehouse, you don’t want to mess up any planning so you camp slightly up the road.
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6dfd9c No.29942
>>29941
Day 3 Phase 3
Friendly Charges and Lost Friends
—-
The Darkling and Shadowkin forces swarm towards the walls with ladders supported by a great many archers, the Shitty Hoardings erected by the Knight-Steward do wonders to keep the arrows off. Though ferocious the assault has yet to gain any ground as the Knights of the Order hold strong throwing back any who attempt to gain the gate. The morale however still seems high as their confidence in cause and numbers is hard to break.
—-
In the middle of the battlefield Woden tries to pull himself to safety his ruined leg trailing behind him. His chest plate has been discarded in ruins behind him as every movement is a great labour. Rising behind him is a creature that was once a man with a huge grins on it’s face. It’s eyes glow a foul red as it grabs unto the injured shadowkin’s leg squeezing hard causing a scream to ring across the battlefield. The creature that was once Malachai pulls the scrambling champion towards him, his iron-like grip to strong for Woden. With malicious greed the creature bites into Wodem’s face tearing flesh from bone as it begins to consume him, each guttural gulp causes the creature to grow it’s veins bulging and it’s skin turning a sickly grey.
—-
On the outskirts of the battle Lord Kragoff orders a charge into the backline of the Darkling forces slaying the guards and setting fire to the siege engines. He then quickly retreats giving a salute towards the castle
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6dfd9c No.29943
>>29844
1. [Moderate Success] You bestow upon the fallen Knight the Red Rage of Battle causing him to rise and attack the gloating shadowkin.
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6dfd9c No.29944
| Rolled 1 (1d6) |
>>29941
[Dalmador Injury Roll]
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6dfd9c No.29945
| Rolled 34, 39 = 73 (2d100) |
>>29838
>Name: Chaplain Merek Grimaldus
>Age: 42 winters
>Speciality: Rallying point, raising of Morale, religious duties
>Rank: [Knight of the Martyr]
>Background: Merek has been a member of the Church of the Martyr ever since he was a small child, taken in after being found on the streets thieving. Punished for his sins as a child and raised to never commit them again he has grown zealous of the religion that allowed him shelter and food. As a young man he learned of the Order of the Martyr and sought to join them and fulfill his debt to the church by holding Castle Heilger against the tide of the Wild King, and bring the order back to it's full complement and glory. Twenty long winters he spent as a member of the Order attempting to teach those who would see this position as a punishment, teach them of the glory and duty that their position held. Ten long winters since he began to use force to teach those who were unwilling. Five long winters since his Zeal grew and he began to see heresy within those who would not submit to the Order. A valued member of the Order and a rallying point to those who believe, many however keep a good enough distance away that Grimaldus's suspicions do not fall on them, so that they are not forced to submit to his inquisitions and tests of faith.
[Chaplain Merk Geimaldus]
Speciality: Chaplain
Armaments: Fine Mace, Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Banner of the Marytr
Bonus:[Standard-Bearer] You carry the flag of the first Hero! All forces near the flag gain +5 but bad things would happen should you ever lose it.
[Priest of the Martyr] +10 to rally Knights of the Martyr
[Zeal] +5 to all combat rolls
[Hatred of the Damned] +10 versus Shadowkin
Negative: [Zeal] Every combat encounter roll 1d6. On a 1 you must pursue and cannot retreat.
[Hatred of the Damned] You must engage Shadowkin at all costs if in the same battle as they are.
[Suspicions of Heresy] You must spend 2 actions per day investigating for heresy among the ranks
1.2.THAT, >>29844 THAT RIGHT THERE, >>29943 THAT LOOKS LIKE HERESY! TIME TO PURGE! WITH HOLY FIRE!
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6dfd9c No.29946
| Rolled 1 (1d6) |
[Special Roll: Dalmador]
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6dfd9c No.29947
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
[Moderate Wound Roll]
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6dfd9c No.29948
| Rolled 70, 39 + 10 = 119 (2d100) |
Name: Gnupa Bjartmarsson
Age: 25
Speciality: Heavy infantry/Berserker
Rank: Visitor
Background: Hailing from the outskirts of Majewl, The first born son of Jarl Sigfast Bjartmarsson, Gnupa Bjartmarsson, ordered by his father, has called upon Battle-hardened men to answer the call of the order. This will be Gnupa's first test, as his personal goal is to appease the old gods through war, valor and the skulls of his enemies.
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
+ Good Stew[+10 to all turns for 2 turns]
1. Order my huscarls back, it is time for Gnupa to slaughter the darkling forces
2. Find the most elite of the enemy forces to fight
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6dfd9c No.29950
| Rolled 17, 28 = 45 (2d100) |
>>29941
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Pitch
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
Marius pulped yet another darkling head, and on the return swing knocked a second one clear off of the walls with the pommel of his hammer. Through a gap in the fighting he saw the…. THING that used to be Malachai tearing into the enemy leader, and he snarled beneath his helmet.
Marius leaned his head back as something jabbed at him from the side, and the shadowkin spear tore a neat gash across his helm. In response, he flipped his hammer around and slammed the spiked 'claw' of his hammer into the wretched thing's back, using it as leverage to heave it clean off of the wall.
"STAND FIRM! WE'LL BUILD A MOUNTAIN OF THEIR CORPSES! ANY MAN RUNS, I'LL MAKE PORRIDGE OUT OF YOUR BRAINS!"
1/2. Marius fights hard, striking and smiting any scum he can reach. He traverses up and down the wall if need be, going to places where the resolve of weaker, baser men threatens to break and showing them how to fight well and proper.
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6dfd9c No.29952
>>29947
[Moderate Wound: Large Laceration Left Arm: -15 to non-combat rolls]
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6dfd9c No.29953
| Rolled 50, 56 = 106 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor [+23 Purity Seals], Fine Dagger
–
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
[Moderate Wound: Large Laceration Left Arm: -15 to non-combat rolls]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions–
1. Dalmador orders the pitch to be dropped. He starts screaming suddenly, hoarsely, as if his memory had finally caught up him. It did, of course, but he would never admit as such. [Drop the pitch]
2. Dalmador also just sort ignores the injury he has taken and orders the men to fight with "good grooming" and "vigor". It's not very inspiring, but the old man just sort of wanders around without regard for his injury. [Rally the men] [+10: Scary]
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6dfd9c No.29955
| Rolled 99, 65 = 164 (2d100) |
>>29941
[Leg: Sprained Ankle: -5 to
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Sprained Ankle 5/6 turns till healed
1.2. Light the next ballista bolt on fire and send it at the corpse of that idiot dueler whatever he has become he is beyond the martyr's blessings now
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6dfd9c No.29956
| Rolled 84 (1d100) |
>>29950
WHAT DO MY EYES SEE?
DO THEY SEE A BITCH?
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6dfd9c No.29957
>>29945
"Warrior of the Martyr the Darkling Witch has usurped my spell and befouled it and the warrior beyond recognition. The Darklings climb the walls as we speak!"
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6dfd9c No.29959
>>29958
Thrown off the ramparts for being silly.
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6dfd9c No.29960
| Rolled 77, 31 = 108 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 Bone Arrows +50 Bone Clubs
Troops: 65 Warriors, 120 Misc Swamplings
1-2. Battle is joined!
Chief Man Raider again commands his Warriors, ordering them to fire from behind the walls up and over them at the foe, taking his place at a tall tower to see the field and direct his warriors. Warriors launch arrow after arrow up into the air, as the Misc swamplings aid them by taking away any wounded and bringing up fresh quivers of arrows when the archers run out.
+50 Bone Armor +200 Bone Arrows +50 Bone Clubs
Troops: 65 Warriors, 120 Misc Swamplings
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6dfd9c No.29961
| Rolled 5, 94 = 99 (2d100) |
>>29941
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 3
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition: [Disheartened: -10 to all rolls for 2 turns]
1&2. Urist enters the chapel and kneels before the statue that represents the gods and begins to pray. "Oh Father of Iron. The fight versus the dark rages upon these walls, and the forces of the light stand strong against the tide. I pray to you to sure their armor and sharpen their blades. To make their wills as steel and their hearts as gold, so the defenders of these walls may shine like silvered mirrors. As your humble servant I ask you of this."
-Disheartened (-10)
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6dfd9c No.29962
Name: Cabal Irving
Age: 38
Specialty: Lumber Jacking
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Every good fire needs a sturdy heart of wood! Irving has dedicated his life to ensuring the wood stays stocked for The Order, mastering the art of a straight cut through a sturdy log. At the young age of 7, Umber was taken in by The Order. His job was passed on to him by his mentor, the previous logger for The Order. Some day, he hopes to pas on the job to a pupil of his own.
Grit: 1
-Bonus: Spending 2 Grit
-Negative: Nope. See ya.
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6dfd9c No.29963
>>28203
Name: Eddard
Age: 37
Speciality: Peasant Auxillary
Rank: Peasant
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the AMrtyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 3
-Bonus: None
-Negative: Fearful
Untrained
Disillusioned
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6dfd9c No.29964
>>29942
Looking at what was once Malachai I knew the work of a filthy witch a whore wife of the Wild King. She would pay.
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6dfd9c No.29967
>>29941
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1/2. "I'll be damned if any of you damn darklings try to tear down my wall! And you shadowkin as well, you filthy traitors!" To kneel before the Wild King was nothing but cowardice of the highest order! And Bran, Bran hated cowardice. "MEN, DROP THE PITCH!"
[Leader of Men]
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6dfd9c No.29968
| Rolled 67, 16 + 10 = 93 (2d100) |
>>29967
dice
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6dfd9c No.29969
| Rolled 53, 7 = 60 (2d100) |
>>29967
>>29968
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1/2. "Men look, to the South, the Noble Lord Kragoff rides to our aid, so let us greet the noble lord, we've only a host of ruffians between us! SO LET US DISPERSE THESE SODS, AND MAKE WAY FOR US TO GREET THIS NOBLE LORD, TO THANK HIM FOR HIS AID, AND TO BESTOW UPON HIM THESE GIFTS OF THE BLOOD OF THE LACKEYS OF THE WILD KING!"
[Leader of Men]
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6dfd9c No.29972
| Rolled 46, 84 = 130 (2d100) |
>>29943
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 2
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
12 Kill this zealot >>29945 "if you cannot tell friend from foe or know the truth of my words then so be it I wash my hands of your blood. You are not worthy to hold that Banner."
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6dfd9c No.29973
| Rolled 1 (1d6) |
>>29972
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Or Die Trying roll
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6dfd9c No.29979
>>29972
>>29973
Also +5 from the Banner?
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6dfd9c No.30009
| Rolled 6, 10 = 16 (2d100) |
>>29945
You look like you're about to become a team killing fucktard. Don't become a team killing fucktard.
>>29941
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 3
Magic Bolt: 2
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
>Last crushed firefly and pure river water
But I have two of that spell left…
1/2. Division in our ranks. This is not good, but there is little that I can do. I can, however, help our troops by incapacitating some of the enemy forces with a flare. I will take their sight, just as this spell has taken mine. [Cast flare on enemy army] [-5 from Nervous]
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6dfd9c No.30010
| Rolled 6 (1d6) |
>>30009
D6 FOR SUPERCHARGE. Also, I'm spending my last grit point, because that is twelve kinds of bullshit.
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6dfd9c No.30014
>>29967
>>29969
whichever works
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6dfd9c No.30017
| Rolled 30, 8 = 38 (2d100) |
>>29941
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2 Snipe more enemy officers. Try to target any witches as well. Hmmmm, need to buy that man a drink or seven.
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6dfd9c No.30018
>>29941
>>29877
[Tancred the Reckless]
Speciality: Squire
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Poor Chain-mail, Average Wooden Shield
>Bonus:
[Made of Steel] +5 to all combat rolls
[Expert Climber] +10 to all climbing rolls
[Unimpossible Odds] +5 to all rolls when outnumbered!
>Negative:
[Rash] Who cares about orders! Not you! -10 to follow orders to stop retreat!
[Adrenaline Addict] If there is a fight going on you must be in it or moving to it
[Youthful Delinquent] Not many knight like you -5 to interact with Knights
1 & 2. Help the men add additional wooden pillars to reinforce the gate (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGMIb7jgwyc at 4:00).
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6dfd9c No.30019
| Rolled 58, 51 = 109 (2d100) |
>>30018
Rollin'. [+5: Made of Steel][5+: Unimpossible Odds]
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6dfd9c No.30024
>>29962
[Cabal Ivring]
Speciality: Lumberjack
Armaments: Fine Felling Axe, Shitty Hatchet, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Bonus: [Axe-Master] People ain't so different from trees +5 to all axe combat
[Strong] +10 to all physical labour rolls
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6dfd9c No.30025
>>29963
[Eddard of Smyil]
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -10 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
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6dfd9c No.30026
| Rolled 50, 83 = 133 (2d100) |
Name: Cabal Irving
Age: 38
Specialty: Lumber Jacking
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Every good fire needs a sturdy heart of wood! Irving has dedicated his life to ensuring the wood stays stocked for The Order, mastering the art of a straight cut through a sturdy log. At the young age of 7, Umber was taken in by The Order. His job was passed on to him by his mentor, the previous logger for The Order. Some day, he hopes to pas on the job to a pupil of his own.
Grit: 1
[Cabal Ivring]
Speciality: Lumberjack
Armaments: Fine Felling Axe, Shitty Hatchet, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Bonus: [Axe-Master] People ain't so different from trees +5 to all axe combat
[Strong] +10 to all physical labour rolls
1,2. Get on the wall and start chopping ladders. See about striking the upper pylons.
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6dfd9c No.30027
| Rolled 90, 87 = 177 (2d100) |
>>30025
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 6
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -10 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1.O-oh Dear what do I do, what do I do? So many darklings, so so so many darklings. I am going to die here.(stabs the darklings in the combat, while hiding behind my shield.)
+Untrained
+Disillusioned
+Fearful
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6dfd9c No.30236
| Rolled 25, 56, 60, 55 = 196 (4d100) |
—–
Darkling Forces: -20
Vs.
Order Forces: +20
—–
Witch Spell-casting: +10
Dark Army Reinforcements: +5
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6dfd9c No.30237
| Rolled 6, 96 = 102 (2d100) |
>>29941
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion] -> 0
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. AHA! Just as Sylvan had planned from the beginning! He would immediately move to support the order against these disgusting beasts, taking them out one by one, preferably aiming for beasts and alternatively for important looking people!
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6dfd9c No.30238
| Rolled 92, 32, 26, 51 = 201 (4d100) |
>>29948
1. [Moderate Success] Gnupa backed by his huscarls slaughter all those who attempt to take the wall. The blood on the wind enthralls his mind as he feels the rage building 1/2 [Bezerker Rage]
2. [Minor Failure] Nothing but fodder bring themselves to Gnupa’s axe.
>>29950
1. [Minor Failure] While reinofrcing some fearful peasants Valjean takes an mace to the helmet crushing his visor and impairing his vision [Armor Damage: Visor: -10 to all ranged attacks]
>>29953
1. [Moderate Success] You command the pitch be thrown as the flaming resin falls upon the invaders catching upon their bare skin and causing many to fall writhing in pain.
2. [Moderate Success] Even injured Dalmador is a sight to behold with blood streaming down his arm as he screams at the soldiers to get in there a fetch him some shadow-kin heads! [Order:+5]
>>29955
1. [Critical Success] The bolt flies true smashing through the creatures chest pinning it into the ground like some grotesque decoration. However much to Armian’s surprise the creature still moves snapping the shaft in half and sliding off it with a black oozing hole in it’s chest. Even across the battlefield Armian can feel it’s gaze upon him…. +[Nemesis: Malachai Corpseborn][+1 Grit Point]
>>29960
1. [Moderate Success] Volley after volley is sent into the hordes assaulting the Gatehouse. Men however begin to wonder if they have enough arrows from all these darkling filth
>>29961
1. [Major Success] You head to the Chapel praying more honestly than you ever have before in your life. Two of your sons fight below and your wife and daughter would surely perish if they fail. All you can hope for is protection [Order:+10]
>>29969
1. [Moderate Success] You rally the men to push back once more [Order:+5]
>>30009
1. [Minor Success][SUPER CHARGE] You begin to channel the magic through your body as a familiar feeling takes over. Power rushes through your veins that reminds you of that day long since passed in the library. You release the spell creating a miniature sun above the battlefield burning with glorious light blinding only those who would cower in the dark! [Darkling: -20]
1.[Minor Success] You continue to loss arrows into the horde. You are unsure if you hit anyone important.
>>30018
1. [Moderate Success] You help some men reinforce the gate though it has seen little combat as the Darklings lack an bridge to get to it.
>>30026
1. [Major Success] You join the fray chooping ladders and throwing back others that try to gain the wall. For your first taste of blood things are going quite well [Condition: Blooding :+ 5 to combat till injured]
>>30027
1. [Critical Success] Spear in hand you shake as you blindly stab over the edge whenever the in seems a darkling would climb up the ladder. You even think you got a few! A nearby Knight gives you a slap on the back and a grin.
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6dfd9c No.30239
>>30238
Day 3 Phase 4
Magic, Good and Bad
—-
The Shadowkin and Darklings surge up the ladders aiming to claim the gatehouse in the name of their dark lord. They are however met by the determination of the Knights and all who follow them. While the invaders die in hundreds the with boiling pitch and arrows falling upon them the defenders take surprisingly little casualties. The battle completely turns when Sir Crovetius casts a spell of unmatched power lighting up the whole battlefield. Like a miniature sun floating above the dark army their skin burned and boiled while the defenders were all but un-afflicted. The dark forces fall back leaving piles of corpses strew around the gatehouse.
—-
Chaplain Merek slipped of the rampart and broke his neck! Oh no who will hold the flag now?
—-
A small band of heavily armored darklings and a strange tall creature have arrived
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6dfd9c No.30240
>>30237
Not sure what anything
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6dfd9c No.30241
>>30239
Bran sees the paladin fall from the rampart, the banner holding firm against the crenelations.
He Turns to Brother Marius, urging him onward,
"Marius, take up the banner quickly, we cannot lose it!"
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6dfd9c No.30242
| Rolled 27, 29, 12, 95 = 163 (4d100) |
>>30237
1.[Critical Success] You take time to aim picking of any Darkling or Shadowkin that seem to be issuing orders [Condition: On a Roll: +10 to archery till you miss one]
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6dfd9c No.30243
>>30241
Marius drove the spike of his hammer into a prone Darkling as he tried, in vain, to fix his visor. He eventually just tore the helmet off for the time being and gave Bran a curt nod. "At once, Knight-Steward…"
Marius took up the banner, clutching it in one hand as he glared at the diminished darkling host standing before the gatehouse.
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6dfd9c No.30244
| Rolled 48, 91 = 139 (2d100) |
>>30238
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
[Armor Damage: Visor: -10 to all ranged attacks]
1. "ARMORER! I need a new helm! At once!"
Get a new helmet, or, barring that, get the visor repaired. +[Highborn]
2. Marius grabs up the Banner of the Martyr and stands firm on the wall, not leaving until the darklings do…
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6dfd9c No.30245
| Rolled 69, 70 = 139 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor [+23 Purity Seals], Fine Dagger
-
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
[Moderate Wound: Large Laceration Left Arm: -15 to non-combat rolls]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions–
1. Noticing his injury, Dalmador decides to cauterize it on the spot. That will fix it. It always does. "BOY! BOY! GET ME A ROD AND SOMETHING TO BITE ON! I HATE THIS PART!" [Cauterize the injury] [-15: Non-Combat]
2. During the medical procedure Dalmador gives an impromptu speech about the grooming standard's little known ancillary, the hygiene standard. [Grooming standard] [+10:Scary] [-15: Non-Combat]
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6dfd9c No.30246
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 3, 1 = 4 (2d100) |
>>30238
ame: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 3 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1/2. "Good men, Good! But the day is not won yet. Even now the enemy stands, mocking us. Well no longer!"
Bran Turns to the various peasants and militia in the rear of the gatehouse, motioning for them to form up, dip their arrows in the pitch, then the nearby braizers/torches.
He turns to face the enemy arrayed in front of the woods, and those running towards it.
"ARCHERS, LOOSE!"
[LEADER OF MEN]
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6dfd9c No.30247
| Rolled 74, 100 = 174 (2d100) |
>>30246
wwwweeeewwww
spending both my grit points
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6dfd9c No.30248
>>30247
>>30247
well fuck this massive ogre shit
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6dfd9c No.30249
| Rolled 3, 36 = 39 (2d100) |
>>30239
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion] -> 0
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. The new guy on the scene looked tough. With his antlers and wooden skin he didn't strike Sylvan as particularly evil looking, more a nature spirit of sorts. Still this was a battle and from the magical glow about him the Hunter did not expect the guy to suddenly develop a conscience.
Clearly he was important and was in dire need of an arrow. Though tempting Sylvan had his doubts that he could break the staff in any way, and the chances to actually light a tree on fire by shooting a burning arrow into it were staggeringly small. In the end it was the intention that counted though.
Quickly Sylvan scanned his surroundings for a fire, opting for two arrows. One burning arrow to the staff, with a bit of luck he would manage to damage the wizard's utility. The second burning arrow would be sent right the the thing's face. Though not necessarily effective it would be a nice love letter expressing the defenders' feelings towards the being.
Besides the uneducated Beast Killer liked to believe that as all things worth doing magic required concentration and a calm mind. And there was nothing quite as concentration breaking as an arrow to the face.
[Condition: On a Roll: +10 to archery till you miss one]
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6dfd9c No.30250
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6dfd9c No.30251
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6dfd9c No.30252
| Rolled 68, 99 = 167 (2d100) |
>>30238
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 3
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition: [Disheartened: -10 to all rolls for 1 turns]
1&2. With a lull in the battle it is time to repair the armor and weapons of the defenders. Sing a prayer with hammer and anvil into every piece of mail and shield. May the steel of the father protect the soldiers of light.
+5 from Master smith
-10 from disheartened.
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6dfd9c No.30253
| Rolled 34, 34 = 68 (2d100) |
>>30238
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 6
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -10 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1. See to the wounded and the dead. This is hell, the least we can do is get them to stop staring at us….
2. Pray to the gods. Maybe they'll hear me.
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6dfd9c No.30254
>>30244
"On it my lord." Urist grabs the helmet and gets to work.
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6dfd9c No.30256
| Rolled 5, 6 = 11 (2d100) |
>>30250
Why the fuck did hitler give me feels? Also, is there sauce?
>>30238
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 2
Magic Bolt: 2
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 4
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. For years, I have not felt this invigorated, refreshed, and young. With the hearty laugh of a healthy old man, I find myself standing up straighter than I have in decades. Now, another threat approaches, and I intend to defend this castle in a more steadfast manner than any before me! Oh, foul giant of evil, the very ground you walk upon shall rebuke you. [Cast Root Bind on giant thingy.] [-5 from nervous]
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6dfd9c No.30257
| Rolled 2 (1d6) |
>>30256
And I burned my last grit point last turn. Well, here's to see how hyper-fucked we are. Watch me roll a 1.
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6dfd9c No.30258
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6dfd9c No.30259
| Rolled 95, 43 = 138 (2d100) |
>>30238
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 2
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
12 The Dark Speaker would regret showing itself "INCINERATE"
Mastery in Virtue +5
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6dfd9c No.30264
| Rolled 43, 2 = 45 (2d100) |
>>30238
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; Shoot at the strange tall creature and his retinue with my Longbow. Though my arrows didn't work too much against the previous wood creature, this one is smaller and seems more of a sorceror type. And even though those other darklings are heavily armoured, an arrow from a Longbow will still penetrate somewhere.
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6dfd9c No.30270
| Rolled 59, 65 = 124 (2d100) |
>>30238
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 Bone Arrows +50 Bone Clubs
Troops: 65 Warriors, 120 Misc Swamplings
1-2. Continue the volleys. Have we run out of arrows yet? No? Then think not on that but on your next shot. Loose more arrows!
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6dfd9c No.30271
| Rolled 13, 70 = 83 (2d100) |
>>30238
>>30018
[Tancred the Reckless]
Speciality: Squire
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Poor Chain-mail, Average Wooden Shield
>Bonus:
[Made of Steel] +5 to all combat rolls
[Expert Climber] +10 to all climbing rolls
[Unimpossible Odds] +5 to all rolls when outnumbered!
>Negative:
[Rash] Who cares about orders! Not you! -10 to follow orders to stop retreat!
[Adrenaline Addict] If there is a fight going on you must be in it or moving to it
[Youthful Delinquent] Not many knight like you -5 to interact with Knights
1. & 2. Stand atop the battlements, begin chanting the Order's Anthem, I can already listen a few other knights following suit… [5+: Unimpossible Odds][10+: Expert Climber(?)]
>>30245
Unable to find a suitable item the boy hands over his own sword's handle.
Long were the days of snarky remarks, the boy was mostly silent around his master but still rebellions around other knights.
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6dfd9c No.30277
| Rolled 30, 31 + 10 = 71 (2d100) |
Name: Gnupa Bjartmarsson
Age: 25
Speciality: Heavy infantry/Berserker
Rank: Visitor
Background: Hailing from the outskirts of Majewl, The first born son of Jarl Sigfast Bjartmarsson, Gnupa Bjartmarsson, ordered by his father, has called upon Battle-hardened men to answer the call of the order. This will be Gnupa's first test, as his personal goal is to appease the old gods through war, valor and the skulls of his enemies.
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
+ Good Stew[+10 to all turns for 2 turns]
1. Chop off the heads of veteran darklings as trophies
2. Rest
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6dfd9c No.30278
| Rolled 11 (1d100) |
>>30259
—-Counterspell: Dark Speaker—
+10 Wild King's Blessing
+5 Adept Sorcerer
+5 Adaptive Spellcasting
+10 Aura of Protection
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6dfd9c No.30329
| Rolled 16, 13, 40, 84 = 153 (4d100) |
>>30278
Dark Forces Morale: -5
Dark Reinforcements: +10
Witch Spellcasting Part 2: +20
Dark-Speaker Spellcasting: +20
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6dfd9c No.30395
>>30244
1. [Minor Success] A runner quickly fetches you a new helmet and the old one is taken to the smith to be repaired
2. [Major Success] You grab the banner holding it high above the ramparts letting all of the darkling scum see it’s brilliance. Beside you the youngling begins to sing “Blade of Light” the anthem of the Order. Many knights and servants join in inspiring a true sense of pride in all there [Order: +20]
>>30245
1.[Moderate Success] A servant quickly heats up a dagger running it across the wound sealing it [Revise to-10]
2.[Moderate Success] Dalamdor once again prattles on about the grooming standard telling the men even in the face of death to stand strong. [Order:+5]
>>30246
1. [Critical Success] You command the men to unleash a grand barrage of arrows but however the barrage is much less then expected as roots grow the ground grasping the Knights and messing up their shots.
>>30249
1. [Minor Success] The arrow streaks across the sky but is sadly burned away by the beam of fire summoned by Surtin
>>30252
1. [Critical Success] Urist falls into a trance every hammer blow ringing out like the beating of a drum as he repairs broken armor and chipped swords. With each blow sparks spray across his beard driving him ever closer to the Steel Father [Order:+5] [1/10 ?????]
>>30253
1. [Minor Failure] You help tend to the only causality of the battle, a farmer by the name of Clement, he used to be your neighbor and now he sits with his entrails spilling out before him [Condition: Horrified : -10 to all actions next turn]
2. [Minor Failure] No gods would ever let this happen…
>>30256
1. [Critical Failure] As you grasp the Nirnroot to cast Root bind you find something has gone horribly wrong with your spell. The root must not have been prepared properly and has instead cast along the ramparts binding many a Knight trying to fire upon the retreating foe.
>>30259
1. [Critical Success] The bolt of pure fire jumps from your hand across the battlefield striking the Dark Speaker as he attempts to counter it. You can hear his faint shrieks as he is reduced to ash. Unfortunately you don’t think you stopped whatever black magic it was trying to cast.
>>30264
1. [Minor Success] You fire the arrow watching it fall towards the Dark Speaker only to be incinerated by the magics of Surtin.
>>30270
1. [Moderate Success] A volley is sent into the retreating foes killing many of the cowards, more would have died if these blasted vines had not grappled you.. [Out of Arrows]
>>30271
1.[Moderate Success] You begin to sing “Blade of Light” causing many knights to join in inspiring courage and pride in many [Order:+5]
>>30277
1. [Minor Failure] You chop off the head of a larger one as a trophy +[Large Darkling Head]
2. [Minor Failure] You find a place off to the side to rest though quite nosy you manage to slumber
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6dfd9c No.30396
Day 4 Phase 1
Blood, Flesh and SIn
—-
The Dark forces continue to fall back fleeing from the piercing volleys of the defenders taking refugee deep among the trees. As the Dark Speaker finishes his spell he is incinerated by the casting of Surtin. He however is not the only caster as the Shadowking Witch takes control of the spell as well as casting her own!
—
The corpses on the battlefield draw together in a great mound corpse and shuddering with gruesome groans. From this gory mess emerges a red creature of muscle and sinew that screams across the battlefield as it charges the gatehouse!
—
The men look at the rising sun, often a symbol of hope and divinity they are shocked at what now hangs in the sky. A bloody ragged hole which leaks the blood of sin and deviants! The ICON OF SIN HAS RISEN!
[All players roll a D100 for a fear check]
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6dfd9c No.30397
| Rolled 68 (1d100) |
>>30396
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6dfd9c No.30398
| Rolled 20 (1d100) |
[Dalmador Fear Check]
"By the powers!"
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6dfd9c No.30399
| Rolled 4 (1d6) |
>>30395
Mood roll
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6dfd9c No.30400
| Rolled 19 + 10 (1d100) |
>>30396
Fear Check, [Fearless]
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6dfd9c No.30401
| Rolled 82, 15 = 97 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 4
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor [+23 Purity Seals], Fine Dagger
-
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
[Moderate Wound: Large Laceration Left Arm: -10 to non-combat rolls] [+Cauterized]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions–
1. Dalmador organizes the men for another round of defense against the creature. He makes sure everyone is combat ready, and instructs them on how to cauterize an injury. No doubt the last round of….instruction…was useful. [-10: Non-Combat] [+10: Scary]
2. And then he helps repel it! Dalmador has had enough of this limp wristed ordering around of the soldiers and the damnable corpse creature WILL NOT STAND AGAINST THE PURITY OF DALMADOR! FEAR IS BROKEN BY HATRED AS THE HERETIC IS BROKEN ON THE RACK! AUUGUHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! [Wade in]
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6dfd9c No.30402
>>30401
1 fate point on action 2.
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6dfd9c No.30403
| Rolled 32 (1d100) |
>>30396
Fear check
Urist, hopefully, is in too deep of a trance to notice anything.
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6dfd9c No.30404
| Rolled 60, 55 = 115 (2d100) |
>>30396
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
1/2. Marius stares at the unnatural icon and the gigantic horror that the darklings have awoken. He feels himself shirking back, almost instinctively, before gritting his teeth and jamming the banner into the stone, drawing his longsword.
"NO BLACK SIGIL WILL KEEP THE ORDER BACK! WE WILL NOT SCATTER LIKE ROACHES BEFORE FLAME! STAND FIRM! KILL THE BEAST! WHAT HAS DIED BEFORE CAN DIE AGAIN!"
Marius hoists the banner high and holds the line, rallying Order forces and meeting the charging monster.
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6dfd9c No.30405
| Rolled 5, 88 = 93 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 +50 Bone Clubs
Troops: 65 Warriors, 120 Misc Swamplings
>>30397
All chief man raider can do is look and gaze in abject fear
Pure terror gripping him to his bones
His eyes cannot believe what they are seeing.
"By the gods. . .the meat. . .it's RUINED!"
They contaminated ALL the edible meat by mixing it with darkling blood.
"They will pay for this! Curse them!"
1-2. As the swamplings mourn the loss of what would have been another feast, seeing as there is only one Flesh golem, Chief Man Raider orders his swamplings to, quote, "scatter, avoid the flesh golem, and try to gather as many fallen arrows and branches for arrow material as you can.
And send some of you to try and pilfer the stack of non-flesh loot pile too.
He can't kill all of you, and if we're lucky he can't run either. So be swift and loot everything you can and don't bunch up."
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6dfd9c No.30406
| Rolled 33, 53, 97 = 183 (3d100) |
>>30395
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 6
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -10 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
[Condition: Horrified : -10 to all actions next turn]
1. Grab a bow and shoot that thing!
-10 from untrained
-10 from Horrified
2. Then Get to cover.
-10 from Horrified
3Th-this can't be real! (fear check)
-10 from Fearful
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6dfd9c No.30411
| Rolled 58, 49 = 107 (2d100) |
>>30395
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 3
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition:
1&2. Urist turns his head away from the bleeding sun and continues his work. He beings to sing prayers to the Steel Father to accentuate the falling of the hammer and the clang of steel. If he is lucky his voice may snap the others around him out of it. Deeper, and Deeper into his work, and louder his voice shall ring in praise as the hammer falls and the quenching tank hisses. There is work to be done. [1/10 ???]
+5 Master smith
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6dfd9c No.30414
| Rolled 31 (1d100) |
>>30396
Rollin
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6dfd9c No.30415
>>30414
+5 to all rolls from Mastery in Virtue
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6dfd9c No.30417
| Rolled 31 (1d100) |
fear roll
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6dfd9c No.30420
| Rolled 89, 92 = 181 (2d100) |
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 1 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1.Bran, about done with magic for the day, looks to the archers around him, and to his champion, Armian, sitting on the balista, eager to kill another creature and bring honor to the Hero. He would not be disappointed.
"Archers, Peasants, Swamplings, anyone with a ranged weapon! Take that damn mass of flesh down, get its knees, get it's arms, get it in the ugly mass of screaming visceral that it calls a face! I don't want that dreadful best to take one step on my gatehouse!
[Leader of men]
2. And on top of being done with this shit, Bran was tired of watching the action, and only watching it. He wanted to do something, to make some sort of change, so with that, he picked up a nearby spear dropped by some fallen soldier that he would surely have to bury after the battle, and offering a quick prayer to the gods, aimed right for the wretched center of the dirty Golem's face.
"Praise the Sun motherfucker"
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6dfd9c No.30421
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6dfd9c No.30423
| Rolled 53, 86 = 139 (2d100) |
>>30395
>>30414
>>30415
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 2
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
1 Make these men brave again, let them not shrink against the dark of the night or the icons of devils I cast 'Lion's Roar of Courage!'
2 Spell Protection for Lion's Roar of Courage
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6dfd9c No.30424
>>30423
+5 to both from Mastery in Virtue
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6dfd9c No.30425
>>30423
Know what, spend a Grit on Lion's Roar of Courage I want this to shatter that fucking icon with their battle cries.
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6dfd9c No.30426
>>30425
noice, ye are a true ally of humanity
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6dfd9c No.30427
| Rolled 73, 79 = 152 (2d100) |
Name: Cabal Irving
Age: 38
Specialty: Lumber Jacking
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Every good fire needs a sturdy heart of wood! Irving has dedicated his life to ensuring the wood stays stocked for The Order, mastering the art of a straight cut through a sturdy log. At the young age of 7, Umber was taken in by The Order. His job was passed on to him by his mentor, the previous logger for The Order. Some day, he hopes to pas on the job to a pupil of his own.
Grit: 1
[Cabal Ivring]
Speciality: Lumberjack
Armaments: Fine Felling Axe, Shitty Hatchet, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Bonus: [Axe-Master] People ain't so different from trees +5 to all axe combat
[Strong] +10 to all physical labour rolls
Condition:
-[Blooding]+ 5 to combat till injured
1,2. Gather some men, we're off to cut some wood!
+[Strong] - +10
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6dfd9c No.30428
>>30427
Specifying I'm trying to chop the wood on the battlements.
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6dfd9c No.30429
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6dfd9c No.30430
| Rolled 98 (1d100) |
>>30396
>>30396
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
[Fearless]
Fucking… I was hoping the sun would allow me to fucking kill more, but now the damn sun is gone. I hope they didn't kill the spirit in service to god that moved the sun around the earth. One of my favorite spirits..
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6dfd9c No.30431
>>30430
>>30396
Fuck the Darkling Horde
Fuck the Darkling Witches
Fuck the Darkling King
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6dfd9c No.30432
| Rolled 56, 81 = 137 (2d100) |
>>30395
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; I'll shoot that Witch, even if it doesn't end the spell. I'll kill that witch just for making this abomination. That thing is not fun to kill at all. Hmmm, looking around, making I'll work with Adolf to cut this roots down so the soldiers can get back to work if I kill the Witch quick enough.
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6dfd9c No.30435
| Rolled 30 (1d100) |
>>30396
[Tancred the Reckless]
Speciality: Squire
Armaments: Fine Longsword, Poor Chain-mail, Average Wooden Shield
Bonus:
[Made of Steel] +5 to all combat rolls
[Expert Climber] +10 to all climbing rolls
[Unimpossible Odds] +5 to all rolls when outnumbered!
Negative:
[Rash] Who cares about orders! Not you! -10 to follow orders to stop retreat!
[Adrenaline Addict] If there is a fight going on you must be in it or moving to it
[Youthful Delinquent] Not many knight like you -5 to interact with Knights
Rolling Morale first. [+5: Unimpossible Odds][Adrenaline Addict]
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6dfd9c No.30449
>>30426
I simply try to spare them a greater insanity then the one we are already living in.
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6dfd9c No.30450
>>30429
It's what scruffy told me to do. Apparently there's wood somewhere that needs chopping, ask him.
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6dfd9c No.30451
>>30450
>>30450
>>30450
Roots and vines around our feet
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6dfd9c No.30455
| Rolled 52, 7, 36 = 95 (3d100) |
>>30396
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion] -> 0
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. Sylvan had been confronted with more magic in the past few days than in his entire life before that and had quite possibly gotten to see more than most people ever would in their entire lives. Terror and death were certain at a beast torn out of the very fabric that nightmares were out of.
However as the most ambivalent marksman it was the Hunter's duty to find this beast's weakspot and take it down if there was to be any hope for the garrison to survive. Now while the boy from the woods did not know whether he could find a weakspot he was certain that whatever thing had clawed its way into the fabric of reality must have a hard time holding itself in a world it was clearly never meant for.
If everything else failed he would have to make out the caster and take him out, after all the Horror was a magical creature if he had ever seen one and the last straw of hope he could cling to was that it relied on its Master for guidance.
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
3. Fear Check
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6dfd9c No.30481
| Rolled 24 (1d100) |
Fear Check
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6dfd9c No.30482
| Rolled 16, 86 = 102 (2d100) |
Name: Gnupa Bjartmarsson
Age: 25
Speciality: Heavy infantry/Berserker
Rank: Visitor
Background: Hailing from the outskirts of Majewl, The first born son of Jarl Sigfast Bjartmarsson, Gnupa Bjartmarsson, ordered by his father, has called upon Battle-hardened men to answer the call of the order. This will be Gnupa's first test, as his personal goal is to appease the old gods through war, valor and the skulls of his enemies.
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
1-2. pull my men back from the gatehouse. fuck fighting that hting
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6dfd9c No.30491
| Rolled 35, 57 = 92 (2d100) |
>>30435
Actual actions:
1. Help the Knights free themselves of the roots. [+5: Unimpossible Odds]
2. Check what little pitch we have left, get ready to drop it on the approaching monster. [+5: Unimpossible Odds]
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6dfd9c No.30502
| Rolled 84, 71, 3 = 158 (3d100) |
>>30238
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Fatepoint:2
Magical ballista bolts:7
1.2 . shoot the bone golem with magical ballista bolt
>>30396
3.fear check
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6dfd9c No.30508
| Rolled 28 (1d100) |
>>30396
Sorry I'm late.
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6dfd9c No.30510
>>30508
That's what she said!
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6dfd9c No.30536
>>30508
Post your turn you cuck
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6dfd9c No.30540
| Rolled 46 (1d100) |
>>30423
—Icon of Sin—
+20 Prepared Defense
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6dfd9c No.30543
| Rolled 43, 67 = 110 (2d100) |
>>30396
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 2
Magic Bolt: 2
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 3
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1. Damnation! After that fiasco, I need some rest. I simply don't have the focus I need to function properly. [Rest]
2. While I have a seat, I'll set Stella loose to follow and track the fleeing horde. Perhaps we can get an idea of whence they came.
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6dfd9c No.30753
>>30420
>>30421
That was one of those enchanted ballista bolts that Bran threw, not a normal spear
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6dfd9c No.30786
>>30401
1. [Major Success] Dalamdor makes a quick inspection of his men making sure they are battle ready [Order:+10]
2. [Minor Success] Dalamdor moves down into the lower levels of the gatehouse meeting with the group of men holding the gate. He orders them to reinforce it as he hears a tremendous cracking of wood as the creature barrels through the gate like a cannon ball [Roll Minor Injury D6]
>>30404
1. [Moderate Success] You stand tall waving the banner high inspiring all around that see you!
>>30405
1. [Major Success] Using quick thinking and alot of rope the Swamplings scale down the walls of gatehouse avoiding the flesh monster can start gathering as many arrows as they can +[400 Arrows] They also grab a fancy looking sword +[??? Sword]
>>30406
1. [Minor Failure] You grab a bow firing off a hasty shot that lands wide of the charging creature.
2. [Minor Success] You duck and cover hoping this all is over soon..
>>30411
1. [Minor Success] Continues to hammer his mind slipping deeper into the rhythm of metal, the metal is finally taking form but of what weapon? 2/10
>>30420
1. [Major Success] The archers unleash a volley on the charging creature as it begins to look like some odd type of porcupine, you are unsure if it’s hurt or not but it does slow ever slightly.
2. [Major Success] You grab the blessed bolt hurling it deep into the creature’s right arm, it’s jammed deep in there and the arm seems have lost most function.
>>30423
1. [Critical Success] Surtin roars magic coursing through his veins as the sky shudders from the sound! Men who were in a daze at the horrific sight find power coursing through their veins as they are spurred into action [Success on all fear checks]
>>30427
1. [Major Success] You and some peasants quickly clear all the vines and roots that have grown on the battlements.
>>30432
1. [Major Success] Your plan has one glaring whole it it, you can’t seem to find where the witch is hiding though you are sure she is watching…
>>30455
1.[Moderate Success] This thing is unlike any beast you have ever seen however all creatures of the dark often share a great fear of fire so you dip an arrow in pitch before losing it into the beasts chest. The beast screams in pain and fear pausing to rip the flaming arrow from it’s body.
>>30482
1. [Major Success] You fall back from the gatehouse making your way up to the castle…
>>30502
1. [Major Success] You fire a bolt hitting the thing square in the chest as it charges, however this does little as it’s huge bulk barrels towards the gatehouse.
>>30543
1.[Minor Success] You move to your bed which has now been set up in the gatehouse and get a quick nap
2. [Moderate Success] Stella follows the horde and eventually finds them setting up a ragtag camp in the forest they number at about 200 with most being darklings with some shadowkin mixed in, the corpseborn is nowhere to be seen.
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6dfd9c No.30787
Day 4 Phase 2
Bone and Breaching
—-
The Corpse golem is peppered with arrows and other projectiles as it charges the gatehouse. While they do slow it they do not stop it as it crashes into the gate like a cannonball shattering the wood and breaching the gatehouse. Of the servants defending the gate most have been crushed or worse as it picks up a Knight dashing his head against the wall like a plaything.
—
The men look at the rising sun, often a symbol of hope and divinity they are shocked at what now hangs in the sky. A bloody ragged hole which leaks the blood of sin and deviants! The ICON OF SIN HAS RISEN!
[All players roll a D100 for a fear check]
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6dfd9c No.30788
| Rolled 64 (1d100) |
>>30787
I must go deeper. Roll to ignore fear.
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6dfd9c No.30789
| Rolled 78, 14 = 92 (2d100) |
>>30786
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 3
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition:
1&2. Metal continues to be hammered,
Prayers continue to be sung,
May Hardin guide my hammer,
Until this blade is done,
For this day men must fight,
With fire in their heart and steel in their hand.
??? 2/10
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6dfd9c No.30790
| Rolled 4, 93, 27 = 124 (3d100) |
>>30786
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; Cast Beast Sight and Kill that fucking Witch
3; Fear Roll
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6dfd9c No.30791
| Rolled 65, 30 = 95 (2d100) |
>>30789
+5 from master smith
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6dfd9c No.30792
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 75, 7, 74 = 156 (3d100) |
>>30787
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 1 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1/2. Bran looks down at the smashed gate, and hears the howls of the beast raging inside of it.
He turns to Slyvan, "This is your gatehouse, keep them off the top of it." He calls to Marius "Marius, with me, your hammer shall crush this creatures bones nicely" He looks to his champion "Armian, the champion of the order, we shall overcome this horror surely with your aid. Dalamador is already below, let us go help him.
With his men Selected, Bran took a step towards the Gatehouse stairs, the Screams of dying men already rising from Below
[Leader of Men]
^Jaundice, Tansen, Red Read this^
3. Fear roll
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6dfd9c No.30793
>>30792
and whitedeath should read that too, as he is temporary gatehouse commander while red is fighting the Troll
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6dfd9c No.30794
| Rolled 1 (1d6) |
>>30786
[Injury Roll: Dalmador]
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6dfd9c No.30795
| Rolled 18 (1d100) |
[Fear Roll: Dalmador]
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6dfd9c No.30796
| Rolled 39, 1 = 40 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 3
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor [+23 Purity Seals], Fine Dagger
-
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
[Moderate Wound: Large Laceration Left Arm: -10 to non-combat rolls] [+Cauterized]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions–
1. Dalmador rallies the men against the beast and the gap. "CLOSE THE GAP! CLOSE THE GAP OR THE FORTRESS IS LOST YOU WORTHLESS DOGS!" [+10: Scary]
2. Dalmador also continues to fight without regards to his injury. He's seen worse than this and lived. He feels fear in his heart, but he carries on. [Continue fighting]
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6dfd9c No.30797
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6dfd9c No.30799
| Rolled 68 (1d100) |
>>30786
Fear roll
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6dfd9c No.30801
| Rolled 33, 96, 51 = 180 (3d100) |
>>30786
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 6
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -10 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1. Grab a bow , set the arrows on fire. Shoot that m-monster.
-10 from untrained
2. O-once I am out of arrows grab my Pitchfork and st-st-stab at it
3O-okay, s-so it IS real. N-need to fight so we -don't die.
-10 from Fearful
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6dfd9c No.30802
>>30801
-10 on 2 from Untrained
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6dfd9c No.30803
| Rolled 52, 7 = 59 (2d100) |
>>30786
>>30799
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 1
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
12 Shatter the Icon of Sin and let the witch reveal herself as the magic flows in a backlash to her
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6dfd9c No.30804
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6dfd9c No.30806
>>30543
I find Sir Crovetius, I have need of his power "Sorcerer we must destroy the Icon. It will hound us until it is destroyed, if you can follow my casting and draw upon your Powerful nature we can break this unnatural night and restore the sun to its rightful place."
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6dfd9c No.30807
| Rolled 60, 16, 17 = 93 (3d100) |
>>30786
>>30792
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
1/2. Marius grunts, hefting his weapons high and following Bran's instruction and joining him in fighting the beast. There's no place he'd rather be: fighting the thing hand-to-hand, toe-to-toe.
3. Fear Roll. +10 Fearless
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6dfd9c No.30828
| Rolled 96, 19, 8 = 123 (3d100) |
>>30787
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 2
Magic Bolt: 2
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 3
Cone of Cold: 3
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
>>30806
"Enchanter, I am going to try something monumentally stupid, just so that I can try to please everyone in this situation."
1. Cast Magic Bolt at Icon of Sin
2. Cast Cone of Cold at Corpse Golem
3. Fear
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6dfd9c No.30829
| Rolled 6, 1 = 7 (2d6) |
>>30828
1. Magic bolt
2. Cone of Cold
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6dfd9c No.30830
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6dfd9c No.30838
| Rolled 5 (1d6) |
[Dalmador: Roll to ignore]
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6dfd9c No.30839
| Rolled 1 (1d6) |
[Dalmador: Failed roll]
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6dfd9c No.30840
| Rolled 6 (1d6) |
[Major Injury Roll]
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6dfd9c No.30841
>>30840
[Major Injury Torso: Massive Splinter: -15 to all rolls]
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6dfd9c No.30848
| Rolled 15 (1d100) |
>>30787
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6dfd9c No.30880
| Rolled 16, 88, 33 = 137 (3d100) |
Name: Cabal Irving
Age: 38
Specialty: Lumber Jacking
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Every good fire needs a sturdy heart of wood! Irving has dedicated his life to ensuring the wood stays stocked for The Order, mastering the art of a straight cut through a sturdy log. At the young age of 7, Umber was taken in by The Order. His job was passed on to him by his mentor, the previous logger for The Order. Some day, he hopes to pas on the job to a pupil of his own.
Grit: 1
[Cabal Ivring]
Speciality: Lumberjack
Armaments: Fine Felling Axe, Shitty Hatchet, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Bonus: [Axe-Master] People ain't so different from trees +5 to all axe combat
[Strong] +10 to all physical labour rolls
Condition:
-[Blooding]+ 5 to combat till injured
1,2. Rush the golem, Fine Felling Axe in hand! Such a creature will fall easily before the legendary art of a fine axe cut!
+[Axe-Master] (+5)
+[Blooding] (+5)
3. Fear Roll
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6dfd9c No.30881
| Rolled 83, 6, 56 = 145 (3d100) |
>>30786
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Fatepoint:2
Magical ballista bolts:6
1.2. The captain calls guess I gotta go fight this golem in melee. Try to take it apart limb from limb since direct damage isn't doing anything. Let Marius take the creatures attention. I will strike it from the sides and behind.
Sword of the Hero +5
[Master Swordsman]+10
[Advanced Tactician] +5
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6dfd9c No.30890
| Rolled 2, 12 = 14 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 +50 Bone Clubs, +[400 Arrows]
Troops: 65 Warriors, 120 Misc Swamplings, +[??? Sword]
1-2. Arrows aren't going to hurt that thing.
Swamplings while keep stealing and looting.
Try to take ALL that big pile o'weapons
hunt any wild animals still out there
chop down some trees to bring them into the castle (later)
refil water bags and canteents
the others are dealing with the flesh golem, we'll be more useful collecting stuff from out there while the entire darkling army is away.
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6dfd9c No.30921
| Rolled 57 (1d100) |
Gnup Bjartmarsson
fear check
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6dfd9c No.30922
| Rolled 12, 30 = 42 (2d100) |
Name: Gnupa Bjartmarsson
Age: 25
Speciality: Heavy infantry/Berserker
Rank: Visitor
Background: Hailing from the outskirts of Majewl, The first born son of Jarl Sigfast Bjartmarsson, Gnupa Bjartmarsson, ordered by his father, has called upon Battle-hardened men to answer the call of the order. This will be Gnupa's first test, as his personal goal is to appease the old gods through war, valor and the skulls of his enemies.
Speciality: Berserker
Armaments: Fine Battleaxe, Poor Shield, Fine Dagger, Fine Throwing Axe, Fine Mail Amour
Bonus: [Bloodlust] Gain +5 to all actions for each consecutive round of combat
[Heart of a Warrior] Spent grit points effect all players in the immediate vicinity
Negative: [Impulsive] -10 to follow commands
1-2. rest. let the fools deal with the beast
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6dfd9c No.30987
| Rolled 46, 99, 25, 11 = 181 (4d100) |
—Dark Side—
Dark Forces Morale: 0
Dark Reinforcements: +15
Outer Kingdom Resistance: -5
Wild King Arrival: -40
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6dfd9c No.30988
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6dfd9c No.30989
| Rolled 45, 20, 42, 19 = 126 (4d100) |
>>30789
1. [Moderate Success] You continue the trance, the pounding of metal becoming your whole world. Whom will you dedicate this weapon to? 3/10
>Hardin, Father of Steel
>Ar’Shal, The Bloody Sword
>Cratham, Lord of the Scales
>Ijal, Mother of Mercy
>Lita, Huntress of the Wastes
>Moreena, Keeper of the Hearth
>?????
>>30790
1. [Critical Success] You cast Beast SIght, your senses expanding across the field. You sight the Witch cowering in some bushes, knocking an arrow you fire true landing an arrow square in her forehead.
>>30792
1. [Moderate Success] As you move to attack the golem a cone of frost coats your freezing you in place and all those around you [Struggle 1d100 next turn]
>>30796
1. [Minor Success] While Dalmador attempts to rally the men a cone of frost sprays over his men and him freezing them in place [Struggle 1d100 next turn]
>>30801
1. [Minor Failure] Your arrows go wide
2. [Critical Success] As you move to attack the golem you see the mage about to cast and spell so you fall back.
>>30803
1. [Minor Success] You send power to Sir Crovetius hoping to help him break the Icon.
>>30807
1. [Moderate Success] You charge in with Bran but before you can attack it you are coated in frost and cannot move [Struggle 1d100 next turn]
>>30828
1. [Critical Success][Empowered][Assisted] You fire a brilliant Magic bolt which ripples with the power of pure arcane energy. It smashes into the Icon of Sin causing the whole illusion to shatter leaving nothing but pure sunlight to shine down upon you [Regain 1 Grit point]
2. [Moderate Failure][Unstable] You then turn you attention to the Golem casting a Cone of Cold to freeze the creature in place… something however has gone terribly wrong. The cold ushers out of your fingertips with no control freezing all the men in the gatehouse fighting the creature, worst of all the creature seems to mostly shrug off the frost…
>>30880
1. [Major Success] As you charge the golem you fell your body coated in frost and cannot move [Struggle 1d100 next turn]
>>30881
1. [Moderate Success] As you move to help with the Golem you notice Sir Crovetius about to cast and spell and fall back to watch it’s result
>>30890
1. [Major Failure] As the Swamplings begin to loot the rest of the pile they notice the Darklings appear to be rallying and moving towards the position. It’s look like they are sandwiched between a raging golem and a coming army.
>>30922
1. [Minor Success] Your men get some rest after the fearsome battle
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6dfd9c No.30990
>>30989
Day 4 Phase 3
Pride before the fall
—-
In the courtyard of the gatehouse a confusing scene rules the area. Sir Crovetius has cast a spell which has frozen the defenders and golem alike. The Golem is however sure to free it’s self soon but will the defenders do the same.
—-
On the field the remaining Dark forces rally, a motley crew of Shadowkin and Darklings prepare to charge the gate to take advantage of the chaos the Golem has wrought. As they grow closer you see a creature not seen in centuries, a creature of legend and death. The ultimate creature of dark, the essence of Pride, the Unicorn!
—-
The Icon of Sin has been shattered and the world restored!
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6dfd9c No.30991
| Rolled 38 (1d100) |
Name: Cabal Irving
Age: 38
Specialty: Lumber Jacking
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Every good fire needs a sturdy heart of wood! Irving has dedicated his life to ensuring the wood stays stocked for The Order, mastering the art of a straight cut through a sturdy log. At the young age of 7, Umber was taken in by The Order. His job was passed on to him by his mentor, the previous logger for The Order. Some day, he hopes to pas on the job to a pupil of his own.
Grit: 1
[Cabal Ivring]
Speciality: Lumberjack
Armaments: Fine Felling Axe, Shitty Hatchet, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Bonus: [Axe-Master] People ain't so different from trees +5 to all axe combat
[Strong] +10 to all physical labour rolls
Condition:
-[Blooding]+ 5 to combat till injured
1. I need to get out of this ice, I need to cut down that Golem…[Struggle]
+[Strong] (+10)
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6dfd9c No.30992
| Rolled 20, 9 = 29 (2d100) |
>>30989
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Fatepoint:2
Magical ballista bolts:6
1.2. The captain calls guess I gotta go fight this golem in melee. Try to take it apart limb from limb since direct damage isn't doing anything. Let Marius take the creatures attention. I will strike it from the sides and behind. Now with frost
Sword of the Hero +5
[Master Swordsman]+10
[Advanced Tactician] +5
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6dfd9c No.30994
| Rolled 65, 6 = 71 (2d100) |
>>30989
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 2
Magic Bolt: 1
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 3
Cone of Cold: 2
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 2
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. This gatehouse situation will need to sort itself out. If I tried anything to thaw the soldiers trapped in ice, things would only get worse. To hold off the Golem for a while, I will conjure up a Wraith Warrior. This is a powerful spell, but I think that the situation warrants it. Perhaps if it can deal with the Golem, it can then attack the Unicorn.
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6dfd9c No.30995
>>30991
Cabal felt the frost hardening to ice around him as he strained to break through. Struggling in place in an attempt to break free, he pushed himself forward with all his might to shatter the ice as it formed. Tightening the grip on his felling axe, he began to move in place, trying to prevent further ice from forming and crack the ice that had formed around him. This ice could not stop him and his duty to those around him, it could not stop him from using the art of the cut to destroy any obstacle in his path.
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6dfd9c No.30996
| Rolled 54, 91, 56 = 201 (3d100) |
>>30787
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion] -> 0
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. A smirk grew on Sylvan's face. Even this horror, an abomination birthed of the despair of men and the evil of their hearts feared the one thing every beast feared. Fire. To be fair fire was a somewhat scary thing and there were plenty of men who feared it as well, but few things were so easily at Sylvan's disposal.
With a grin he looked up as he notched his arrow and stared right into the Abyss. The Sun had vanished and left in its place an all swallowing Blackness. For a moment he remained, his gaze caught by the confusingly beautiful yet terrifying sight.
He had to snap loose, he had to keep firing. Every arrow he could use to hit that Corpse creature would distract it. Another life saved. Another man to cut down the endless hordes of enemies. The young Hunter had to act! But the Sun..
3. Sani-tey.
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6dfd9c No.30997
| Rolled 23, 77 = 100 (2d100) |
>>30989
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 6
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -10 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1. W-well shit. Th-that can't be good. Everyone's frozen, literally. Grab a big, long spear and Hassle that monster to sl-slow it down.
-10 from untrained
2. Then Skewer it's Legs together! See h-how it moves trussed like a pig!
-10 from Untrained
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6dfd9c No.30998
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6dfd9c No.31000
| Rolled 7 (1d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 2
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor [+23 Purity Seals], Fine Dagger
-
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
[Moderate Wound: Large Laceration Left Arm: -10 to non-combat rolls] [+Cauterized]
[Major Injury Torso: Massive Splinter: -15 to all rolls]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions–
1. Dalmador struggles despite his injury. He looks really quite angry, swearing and cursing wildly as he attempts to break he ice. His head turns beet red in rage and curses in a manner most unbecoming a knight. Parentage, sexual habit, intelligence, and other characteristics are questioned in particular, with incoherent screaming being part of the remainder. [-15: Splinters]
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6dfd9c No.31001
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6dfd9c No.31003
| Rolled 37, 97 = 134 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 +50 Bone Clubs, +[400 Arrows]
Troops: 65 Warriors, 120 Misc Swamplings, +[??? Sword]
1-2. GRAB EVERYTHING YOU CAN AND GET BACK OVER THE WALLS!
Ignore the Golem, we got over it using ropes now GET BACK OVER IT.
And be sure to lift up those ropes after your done.
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6dfd9c No.31005
| Rolled 84, 2 = 86 (2d100) |
>>30989
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 1
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
1 "The Blade of Evening, The Prince of Light and of the Sky Bearer, Second Sun, Whose blessed isle is in the West, The Strength of light in the Dark, Pinnacle of the Sky, Seven praises for Seven strikes. Oh Evening Star I Invoke Thee. Bathe me in your silver glow I beg your favor. LET ME OFFER YOU VICTORY!" I point my blade at the unicorn.
2 A leaping strike from the gatehouse all the way to the unicorn and all seven strikes upon the the beast of pride.
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6dfd9c No.31007
>>31005
+5 to both and spend a Grit
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6dfd9c No.31008
| Rolled 2 (1d6) |
>>31005
Or Die Trying
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6dfd9c No.31009
| Rolled 4, 82, 44 = 130 (3d100) |
>>31005
—-Unicorn Combat—
Aura of Pride: -10 to enemy rolls
Corrupting Charge:
+10 Pure Sin
+5 Corrupted Horn
+10 Toxic Miasma
Swarming Dark Wraiths:
+10 Pure Sin
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
Spectre-Step:
+10 Pure Sin
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
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6dfd9c No.31010
In light of the fact I am apparently a massive drain on resources and can't do anything right , I am quitting the game. I hope the rest of you have fun. Thank you for putting up with me Cornwallis.
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6dfd9c No.31011
>>31005
"I WILL HOLD THE BEAST! MAKE YOUR MOVE MEN FOR THE EVENING STAR SHINES ON US ALL!"
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6dfd9c No.31014
| Rolled 38 (1d100) |
>>30989
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
1. Marius snarled as rimefrost coated his body, freezing his armor solid. Biting back the pain of flesh on cold metal, he willed with all his might against his prison, intent on closing with the beast.
"Damned Mage!"
Struggle.
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6dfd9c No.31021
| Rolled 9, 92 = 101 (2d100) |
>>30989
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1; Use Spare the Dying on Dalmador the Scarred
2; Dip my arrows in oil, light them on fire, and shoot them at the abomination
>>31000
Sigismund moves by the Strict Officer and helps him out of the ice, "Your time hasn't come yet, you old bastard."
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6dfd9c No.31022
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 66 (1d100) |
>>30987
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 1 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1. A Unicorn, A golem and a horde of darklings walk into a castle, Bran remembered that joke fondly as he marched on despite being coated in frost, he remembered the Order servant who told it to him, a young man named Robert, from a small village on the outskirts of the Outer Kingdom. He remembered Robert taking a darkling arrow to the neck and struggling as the vile poison on its tip surged into his veins. He remembered plating his sword in Roberts Chest to spare him the long painful death, and he remember the countless prayers that he uttered after having to grant mercy to one of his loyal soldiers. So many dead, even know, men die. And for what, why must they die, why must the Wild King and his forces of evil persist, what purpose do they serve, and why is it that Bran and his men are the one's holding back the darkness. Why him, what made him worth the honor or leading the best men and women he had ever known in this battle against the coming darkness. Why do good men struggle and die against what seems like impossible odds? Why must good die for the sake of people they never will never even meet? No, that matters not, Bran realized. What matters is now, right now, and what matters right now is this mound of flesh, and the threat is poised to his men, and the innocents cowering now inside of his castle. So Bran, along with Marius and Armian, needed to kill it. Quickly coming up with a plan, he turns and calls to his men.
"Armian, go for the arms, I managed to disable its right one when it charged through the castle gates, Marius, take the legs, smash its joints with your might hammer! I'll take the beasts head right off! Come men, to glory!"
[Leader of Men]
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6dfd9c No.31032
| Rolled 79, 16 = 95 (2d100) |
>>30989
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 3
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition:
1. Of course the weapon shall be dedicated to Hardin, Father of steel. 3/10
2. Continue the trance more. No rest! 3/10
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6dfd9c No.31033
>>31032
spending a grit point on action 2,
Grit: 2
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6dfd9c No.31034
>>30992
Use Grit points I guess.
I have 3 dunno how many I have to waste.
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6dfd9c No.31035
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>30994
Forgot D6 for spell.
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6dfd9c No.31287
| Rolled 83 (1d100) |
[Flesh Golem]
-10 Wounded Arm
+5 Rage
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6dfd9c No.31288
| Rolled 78 (1d100) |
>>30991
1. [Minor Success] You break off the ice dodging back away from the raging golem.
>>30992
1. [Minor Success] You jump at the creature slicing down on it’s injured arm severing it fully.
>>30994
1. [Moderate Success] You summon a Wraith Warrior using a bone plucked from your mentors very graves, a dark spell that summons the specter of your long dead friend to fight once more. It charges in engaging the Golem blocking it from harming anyone else.
>>30996
1. [Major Success] You fire arrow after arrow into the Golem’s body while it fights the Wraith Warrior, while they have little visual effect you think the creature is beginning to slow.
>>30997
1. [Major Failure] You try to grab a long spear but can only find a half broken wooden post
2. [Moderate Success] You run forwards nearly slipping on the ice as you jam the wooden post into it’s thigh as it rages above you.
>>31000
1. [Minor Success] Dalmador musters the last of his reserves to free himself from the ice and fall back from the raging golem.
>>31003
1. [Critical Success] The Swamplings quickly pull them selves back up the the gatehouse before getting overrun with all of their loot.
>>31005
1. [Major Success] You invoke the Blade of the Evening upon your sword which burns like brightly against the night!
2. [Minor Success] You leap off the battlements landing in front of the Unicorn as you slash viscously. The strike was true but the foul magics of the creature deflects the blow slightly making it only a shallow gash. In response foul black wraiths which spill from it’s mouth attack you pushing into your chest ripping apart your very soul [Major Wound Roll D6]
>>31014
1.[Minor Success] You break off the ice as you fall back watching the others engage the Golem.
>>31021
1. [Major Failure] AS you move towards Dalmador you slip on the ice sailing past him and into a wall.
2. [Minor Success] Though disorientated you manage to fire some flaming arrows into the golem as it slowly gains a porcupine-like look.
>>31022
1. [Moderate Success] You break off the ice as you circle back to rejoin the battle.
>>31032
1. [Moderate Success] The Iron Father blesses your every strike as a great warhammer begins to take shape in the fires of the forge 4/10
2. [Minor Success] As you continue the trance you can feel your mind drift as you call upon all of your determination to continue…it must have an engraving on what should it be? 5/10
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6dfd9c No.31289
>>31288
Day 5 Phase 1
Folly or Courage?
—-
In the confines of the Gatehouse brave Knights face off against the horrible Flesh Golem. One arm gone, peppered with arrows and limping on the right the creature duels with the Wraith Warrior. Eventually the Wraith Warrior manages to stab the creature in the chest as it body melts back into a foul puddle of flesh and blood. This is a respite for now but the gate has been breached…
—
On the open lands between the forest and the gatehouse both defenders and attackers pause to watch as Surtin Veek Tori matches off against a Unicorn an Icon of Pride, said to be the strongest of the Wild King’s beast.
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6dfd9c No.31290
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>31288
ANCIENT VIGOR
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6dfd9c No.31291
| Rolled 58 (1d100) |
>>31288
[Edit]
1.[Minor Success] You break off the ice as you fall back to avoid the golems attacks.
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6dfd9c No.31292
| Rolled 90 (1d100) |
>>31289
Edit:
[Day 4 Phase 4]
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6dfd9c No.31293
| Rolled 97 (1d100) |
>>31290
[Major Wound: Soul Torn: 6 turns to death]
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6dfd9c No.31294
| Rolled 22, 79 = 101 (2d100) |
Name: Cabal Irving
Age: 38
Specialty: Lumber Jacking
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Every good fire needs a sturdy heart of wood! Irving has dedicated his life to ensuring the wood stays stocked for The Order, mastering the art of a straight cut through a sturdy log. At the young age of 7, Umber was taken in by The Order. His job was passed on to him by his mentor, the previous logger for The Order. Some day, he hopes to pas on the job to a pupil of his own.
Grit: 1
[Cabal Ivring]
Speciality: Lumberjack
Armaments: Fine Felling Axe, Shitty Hatchet, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Bonus: [Axe-Master] People ain't so different from trees +5 to all axe combat
[Strong] +10 to all physical labour rolls
Condition:
-[Blooding]+ 5 to combat till injured
1,2. Help barricade the gate with whatever lumber I can get my hands on! We must hold our ground!
+[Strong] +10 to all physical labour rolls
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6dfd9c No.31296
| Rolled 37, 60 = 97 (2d100) |
>>31288
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 6
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -10 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1-2. There is a hole in our gate. That is not good. That is very much not good. in fact it is bad, very very bad. Grab tables, cots, barrels, anything that I can use to make a barricade. I do not want to get eat by a demon horse with a pointy horn on it's head!
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6dfd9c No.31297
Dara if you see this, hold off on posting for a fat minute
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6dfd9c No.31298
>>31288
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition:
1. Thinking back to his readings of the holy texts Urist draws upon a quote from it and begins the engraving. "And with this hammer I forge bonds iron to bind us together, and shield spirit to defend us." 5/10
+5
2. The trance and the forge work continues.
+5
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6dfd9c No.31299
| Rolled 21, 12 = 33 (2d100) |
>>31298
I forgot to roll
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6dfd9c No.31300
>>31299
Using my last 2 grit on both of those
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6dfd9c No.31301
>>31288
"Hear me! Mortal weapons will not wound the Beast of Pride! Its wicked nature will cause even the most true strike to falter and leave not but a scratch! Marshal what magical might and valor we have to see us through to the rising of the Sun!"
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6dfd9c No.31302
>>31301
Bran hears the calls of the Faelord, and thinks of what his men possess that can harm the beast.
An idea strikes his mind!
"Sir Crovetius, cast a mass enchantment of the men's weapons, let your mana pool into our blades and arrows so that we may strike down this vainglorious creature!"
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6dfd9c No.31303
| Rolled 21, 42, 21, 29 = 113 (4d100) |
>>30987
—Dark Side—
Dark Forces Morale: +10
Dark Reinforcements: +10
Outer Kingdom Resistance: -15
Wild King Arrival: -35
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6dfd9c No.31304
| Rolled 56, 53 = 109 (2d100) |
>>31288
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 0
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
[Blade of Evening still in effect]
[Major Wound: Soul Torn: 6 turns to death]
His very being is pierced and pulled near asunder but his strength does not fail him, Surtin has delved through the ages with the greatest of blood flowing through him and this night will not be his last.
12 With the power Evening Star still strong I will like a falling star cross the space between here and the wall top in one shining moment to get away from the Unicorn.
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6dfd9c No.31305
| Rolled 48, 97 = 145 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 1
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor [+23 Purity Seals], Fine Dagger
-
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
[Moderate Wound: Large Laceration Left Arm: -10 to non-combat rolls] [+Cauterized]
[Major Injury Torso: Massive Splinter: -15 to all rolls]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
–Actions–
1. Dalmador goes to see if he can get the injury treated somehow. It really hurts and he has trouble standing. Sometimes his vision spins. "DAMMIT WHERE IS THE PAIN KILLER! I REQUIRE IT! MICHELSON YOU BASTARD I HAVE A BIT OF WOOD IN MY CHEST THIS IS YOUR FAULT THE SEALS DO NOTHING! [See if the injuries can be treated] [-25]
2. Dalmador orders the men to hold the gate as best they can before he departs. The boy is commanding the troops, so it shouldn't be an issue. [-10]
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6dfd9c No.31308
| Rolled 51, 35 = 86 (2d100) |
>>31288
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
1. "A unicorn. A horse with a horn. Some sorry sodding day this is, driven back by a glorified draft animal…"
Marius bends over for a moment, allowing himself a minute's respite before he plants the banner in the ground and trudges toward the gate, maneuvering his hammer into a sledgehammer grip.
"Put the damn table up -properly-, lowblood, this gate will hold if we have to use YOU to repair it.
Marius helps repair the gatehouse.
2. All throughout his labor and direction, Marius keeps an eye out and, when not needed, patrols the ramparts, striking and smiting any wretched thing that tries scaling the walls.
Marius defends the gatehouse.
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6dfd9c No.31309
| Rolled 57, 38 = 95 (2d100) |
>>31288
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 2
Magic Bolt: 1
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 3
Cone of Cold: 2
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 1
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. The men in the gatehouse need all the help they can get to deal with that unicorn. I think that it might be possible to cast Magic Weapon over a wider area, weakening the effect on specific weapons, but giving them all a slight edge in combat, which could mean the difference between success, and the enslavement of all the free world. [Cast Magic Weapon on the troops in the gatehouse so that they can kill the unicorn.]
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6dfd9c No.31310
| Rolled 4 (1d6) |
>>31309
Overcharge
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6dfd9c No.31312
| Rolled 50, 26 = 76 (2d100) |
>>31288
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion] -> 0
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. A Beast. A Horse. A.. Unicorn? Sylvan had never before seen the fabled creature however he knew one thing. He wanted to kill it. Some guy had shotten a ghoul with a ballista before, if he could manage to get a decent shot off he could be able to strike the animal lethally and add a Unicorn to a kill count nobody would believe him at this point anyway.
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
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6dfd9c No.31317
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 49, 27 = 76 (2d100) |
>>30247
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 1 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1. Bran looks at the puddle of goo that was the corpse golem, and at the faelord running towards the keep, the unicorn's fell magic proving to much for him. With every battle won, another comes to dash what little hope that has been gleamed from this pit of darkness that was the siege.
But Bran Also saw a young peasant and an order servant rushing to plug the gap made by the Golem, and Marius standing ready to defend them as they worked to patch the truly massive hole in the gate. His men still fought on, and so shall he. This bloody prancing magical pony shall not be the end of this Gatehouse, no, like many fell-beast before it and after it, it shall meet its end here, as will the Wild King, and any other damned army that tries to destroy the civilized world! Bran heads to the top of the gatehouse, to see Sir Crovetius readying his spell, and Sylvan the order servant with a knack for the bow readying a blessed ballista bolt. Truly, these were great men, and with such great men, The Order would prevail.
"Friends! Swampmen! Countrymen! Lend me your ears! I come here not to call for a retreat, for though the Gate lies breeched, it matters not. You! You great men shall repel whatever comes at this gatehouse, whether it be that Prancing pony or the Wild King Himself! Aided by our good wizard, our weapons shall be able to harm the foul beast, if only barely. BUT WE ARE MANY, and we shall turn that icon of PRIDE into a monument of Vainglory! Our arrows shall pierce its wretched heart, our rage shall burn its hide to ash, and the damned army it brings with it shall too fall before the might OF MAN! No longer shall children lie in fear in the night of the Wild King and his host of beast….. No! They shall be told of the Brave men of the Order, who like the Hero long ago, VANQUISHED the forces of evil and brought back the dawn! Now, men of the WEST, let us RAIN HELL UPON THIS MALEFICENT MASS OF FIENDISH FOES! Let your hatred, your anger, flow through your bows and BLOT OUT THE SUN!"
[Leader of Men]
2. With his speech concluded, Bran heads back down to the Lower levels, intent on killing anything that tries to make it through that Door. On his arrival to the basement, he finds a pile of clothing and armor once belonging to the Order Champion, along with the sword of the Hero propped up against a nearby wall. If the Champion did not return, then Bran would take up the sword in his steed. Its black blade once again tasting the blood of evil.
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6dfd9c No.31319
>>31317
+5 from Marius's banner on the second roll
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6dfd9c No.31320
>>31305
Correction: 2 should be [-5] [Effectively a 92]
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6dfd9c No.31322
>>31319
and if tansen really did drop then +5 from the Hero' Sword as well, bringing my rolls to 62, 37
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6dfd9c No.31324
>>31322
After his speech as the battle rages on, Chief Man Raider approached Bran.
"Lord Commander
Ye wanted to speak to me about a plan?"
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6dfd9c No.31326
>>31324
Bran turns to the Wilding chieften before returning to the bottom of the gatehouse, placing a hand upon his shoulder
"Man, in these few days you have become what amounts to my friend in this place, so it is with a heavy heart and the upmost caution that I ask this task of you. As we all know, the Wild King is tearing through the Outer Kingdom, destroying all the comes across. There are people out there, just like you once were, fighting for their lifes, and many of them are dying in droves. As your people came to me, to the Order, for protection, I too wish for you and your men to go out and seek these folks, be they warrior or small folk. We need all the people we can get, and they stand a much better chance behind our walls then they do out there in the open. I ask this of you not as the commander of the Order, not as the Lord that granted your people a chance at surviving this war, but as a friend. I'll leave it to you to decide who to send, but please, be careful. We've lost enough men to carelessness already, I don't want to lose anymore to it."
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6dfd9c No.31327
>>31326
"You ask no small thing, Lord Commander. Supposing I were to entertain the idea of sending some of my men through swamps so thick with foes even we who have dwelled there for generations thought to find shelter in a castle hostile to us for centuries. Despite that we had rounded up all that could have been convinced in the swamp. Perhaps I might even go out with such a party myself and leaving my people behind and myself to an unknown fate.
What would the Outer Kingdom have faith to believe the words of a Swampling who have been keen to kill us as much as the Order? Think you they would listen to us? Even where you to give us a stamped seal in your name, do the outer kingdoms believe in the Order so? My men will die for me, and I will follow any plan of yours you think will spare my kind, but I must know if I send them out to an almost impossible task, it is in good faith"
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6dfd9c No.31328
>>31324
"The Task I ask is no small feat, this I know, but in dark times enemies make strange bedfellows, and these people, hiding in their holes or running through the woods from the demons of the night, will almost certainly listen to a plea from such a noble man as yourself, swampling you may be. They may not like it, but they know that their is no other option. As it is for your people, and for Mankind as a whole, this place is the safest place to be in the War with the Wild King, for even know the Soul of the Last Hero his foul magics at bay. I will be willing to send a man of the order with you as proof of your, of our joint cause, but your men are best suited to remaining unfound. I send you and/or your men forth with the best faith that they, and you, are the only ones who can complete this heroic task."
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6dfd9c No.31333
| Rolled 42, 32 = 74 (2d100) |
>>31288
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; A-A Unicorn…? By the All- My God, what an opportunity! I been hoping to fight a legendary monster such as this one, what a glorious battle this is. Damn did I make the right choice coming down here. Enchant my weapon with Lightning[Elemental Weapon: Lightning] and move to assist that ficken fae in slaying that verfickter. Keep Adolf out for now to watch my back and kill any monsters that think they want to be clever and backstab us.
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6dfd9c No.31334
>>31322
fucking faggot commander tries to steal the champs sword. This is the gravest of insults. After I kill the unicorn I am killing you.
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6dfd9c No.31335
| Rolled 79, 75 = 154 (2d100) |
>>31288
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Fatepoint:2
Magical ballista bolts:6
1.2. It is time to advance on the unicorn. I roar into battle quickly aiming to behead the beast. Using the knight that is already there as a distraction.
Sword of the Hero +5
[Master Swordsman]+10
[Advanced Tactician] +5
>>31317
>Standing over the corpse of the golem
>Commander sees an empty room with the champion magically disappeared.
The commander has obviously fallen to the darkling madness. We will need to deal with him after the battle has concluded. Someone so poisoned by the darkling influence must be relieved of command and laid to rest.
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6dfd9c No.31336
>>31335
I mean if you're gonna be a tard and keep saying that you dropped, you can't be surprised when I try to save the magical macguffin from disappearing along with your character, that being said, I said only to take it if you didn't come back to get it. Buuuuuuut if you wanna be a cunt and push this then so be it.
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6dfd9c No.31346
>>31335
I now understand that there is still an army between me and this unicorn so change actions to just fighting the army
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6dfd9c No.31379
>>31328
>>31327
"On second thought your men would better serve the cause here, hold off on that plan for now."
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6dfd9c No.31382
| Rolled 33, 90 = 123 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 +50 Bone Clubs, +[400 Arrows]
Troops: 65 Warriors, 120 Misc Swamplings, +[??? Sword]
1-2. Back to the fight! Go atop the nearest standing tower and point my archers hidden behind walls and cover where to shoot arrow volleys indirectly at the enemy horde.
"Fire that away!"
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6dfd9c No.31621
| Rolled 48, 6 = 54 (2d100) |
—-Unicorn Combat—
Aura of Pride: -10 to enemy rolls
Corrupting Charge: Damaged Gate
+10 Pure Sin
+5 Corrupted Horn
+10 Toxic Miasma
Spectre-Step:
+10 Pure Sin
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
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6dfd9c No.31624
>>31334
Shut your fucking mouth, Thorne.
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6dfd9c No.31695
| Rolled 63 (1d100) |
>>31621
Soul-Shock: Defenders
+10 Pure Sin
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
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6dfd9c No.31696
>>31294
1. [Major Success] You grab wood, furniture and just about anything you can to shove into the hole as a makeshift barricade
>>31296
1. [Moderate Success] You help with the desperate scramble to build a barricade in the hole in the gate.
>>31298
1. [Minor Success] Strength surges through his arms as the weapon edges ever closer to completion 6/10
2.[Minor Success] Every blow rings like the cracking of thunder as the hammer is almost done 7/10
>>31304
1. [Moderate Success] Using a burst of magical power Surtin flings himself in the air narrowly grabbing onto the ledge of the Gatehouse and pulling himself up.
>>31305
1. [Minor Failure] Michelson does nothing for you beyond pray, the blood is really starting to come out [4 turns till death]
2. [Major Success] The men give you a quick salute before scrambling to build a barricade and hold the door.
>>31308
1. [Minor Success] You join the men chucking everything they can upon the barricade
2. [Minor Failure] You are blinded by a sudden surge of darkness as your are knocked off your feat across the room [Minor Wound Roll]
>>31309
1. [Minor Success][Choose Archers or Fighters in gatehouse] You begin to cast Magic Weapon
>>31312
1. [Moderate Success] You fire an arrow which sticks firmly into the hide of the Unicorn, the arrow however is then expelled and the wound healed, you may need some magic for this..
>>31317
1. [Minor Success] The arrows fly but most are blocked by a dark maisma or simply miss the beast as they aim for an area they thought it was in not the place it is.
2. [?????]
>>31333
1. [Minor Success] You cast elemental weapon and move downstairs towards where the beast is breeching the gatehouse
>>31335
1. [?????]
>>31382
1. [Major Success] The Swamplings fire more accurately then the Knight hitting the creature as it charges several times, the arrows have little effect as the wounds heal rapidly….
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6dfd9c No.31697
>>31696
Day 5 Phase 1
Permeating Darkness
—-
The Unicorn charges the gate it’s body envoloped by a shield of dark energy, with a crash like thunder it destroys the barricade the men have erected. In a single moment it has torn open two knight and a peasant, meanwhile several others shrivel up their very souls being torn from their bodies. The rest of the defenders mutter prayers to the New God’s and some to the old preparing to fight for their lives.
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6dfd9c No.31699
>>31696
Pardon me, but I said to fire on the enemy horde. Just FYI
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6dfd9c No.31702
| Rolled 5 (1d6) |
>>31696
Minor Wound Roll
+[Heavy Armor Master]
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6dfd9c No.31703
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>31696
Disposition Roll
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6dfd9c No.31704
>>31696
>>31696
>Choose Archers or Fighters in gatehouse
>>31309
FIGHTERS
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6dfd9c No.31705
| Rolled 77, 33 = 110 (2d100) |
>>31696
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition:
1&2. The hammer continues to be swung, and the trance continues. 7/10
+5
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6dfd9c No.31706
>>31705
Fixed stats
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 0
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition:
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6dfd9c No.31708
| Rolled 21, 73 = 94 (2d100) |
>>31696
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 0
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
[Blade of Evening still in effect]
[Major Wound: Soul Torn: 5 turns to death]
>>31309
1 Empower Magic Weapons. I can feel the Knight-Sorcerer channeling through the night and into the Permeating Darkness and raise myself onto my knees to offer what I can to his spell as the Blade's light disperses into the air.
2 Healing Light. Pulling myself onto the gatehouse I feel the sundering of my being as if drifting in the pulls of the mightiest currents. I must bring forth the full mastery of my disciplines and mend the wounds here in my soul. Those that look on can see a Surtin made of light hovering above the pale body kneeling on the ground.
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6dfd9c No.31709
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6dfd9c No.31712
| Rolled 38, 69 = 107 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 seasons you fucking sperm!
Specialty: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 1
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor [+23 Purity Seals], Fine Dagger
-
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
[Moderate Wound: Large Laceration Left Arm: -10 to non-combat rolls] [+Cauterized]
[Major Injury Torso: Massive Splinter: -15 to all rolls]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
{{Death: 4 turns}}
–Actions–
1. Dalmador prays and slaps the purity seals onto his sword. He begins screaming incoherently at Michelson to help him. [-15]
2. After the prayer, Dalmador armors up and heads to the gatehouse and to his likely imminent death. [Head to the gatehouse; rejoin the fighting] [-15]
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6dfd9c No.31713
| Rolled 10, 82 = 92 (2d100) |
>>31696
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 2
Magic Bolt: 1
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 3
Cone of Cold: 2
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 1
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
THE SPELL WILL BE CAST ON THE ARCHERS, SO THAT THEY MIGHT KILL THE UNICORN FROM AFAR.
1/2. This is tiring business, but well worth it. This is what I was born to do. Though my body aches, my mind is calm, and rested. I shall see if I can cast my final Magic Bolt on the Unicorn, and see if I can obliterate it before it gets anywhere near the castle.
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6dfd9c No.31714
| Rolled 4 (1d6) |
>>31713
SUPERCHARGE, PERHAPS? IDK
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6dfd9c No.31715
>>31713
Just realized that the unicorn is already inside. The buff spell will be cast on the fighters instead, if that's alright. The unicorn is still the target of the magic bolt.
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6dfd9c No.31716
>>31715
Pretty sure unless you continuously channel the spell it'll fail Dara.
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6dfd9c No.31717
>>31716
Thanks, Cornwallis.
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6dfd9c No.31718
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 76, 37 = 113 (2d100) |
>>31697
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 1 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1/2. Bran felt the touch of magic run across his skin as his sword was imbued with the the light sorceries of the Knight-Sorcerer. He saw darkness before him, hoof stamping and foul miasma permeating the air around it. If this beast broke through here, it would surely take the castle next, if it could break the gatehouse gate so easily it could do the same to the castle gatehouse. They had to kill it here, Bran had to lead them. He looked to Armian, standing ready, sword raised and watching the beast. He saw Marius rising from where the malignant horse had thrown him, already taking his hammer and readying it to put some holes in this soon to be dead horse. Bran too readied himself, and upon realizing his shield would be of little use against the foul magics and charges of the beast, brought out his dagger instead, so as to parry any of the beast swift jabs. He and the others slowly circle the beast, ready to make their assault.
"Whoever makes the kill gets the horn."
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6dfd9c No.31720
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6dfd9c No.31723
| Rolled 56, 7 = 63 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 +50 Bone Clubs, +[400 Arrows]
Troops: 65 Warriors, 120 Misc Swamplings, +[??? Sword]
1-2. "Our arrows aren't doing shit to that Unicorn.
But the horde has fled the field.
Swamplings, avoid that Unicorn, spread out, and once again, LOOT!
Grab everything. Fallen arrows, fallen bodies, tree, branches for wood, swords, shields, if you can see it you pick it up and you bring it back."
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6dfd9c No.31728
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6dfd9c No.31730
| Rolled 73, 64 = 137 (2d100) |
>>31696
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 6
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -10 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1. Run to the Castle, fuck fighting this death horse. Just being near it makes me sick.
2. Once at the Castle Tell a ranking knight what the fuck is going on.
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6dfd9c No.31731
| Rolled 53, 18 = 71 (2d100) |
>>31696
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
Marius held his hammer aloft as it began to glow with magical power. Planting the banner in the ground and shoving himself upright, the thickly armored knight settled into an aggressive stance before charging straight for the dark beast, fighting with every iota of his second wind.
He was going to kill himself a unicorn, or die trying.
1/2. Attack the Unicorn.
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6dfd9c No.31756
| Rolled 24, 40 = 64 (2d100) |
Name: Cabal Irving
Age: 38
Specialty: Lumber Jacking
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Every good fire needs a sturdy heart of wood! Irving has dedicated his life to ensuring the wood stays stocked for The Order, mastering the art of a straight cut through a sturdy log. At the young age of 7, Umber was taken in by The Order. His job was passed on to him by his mentor, the previous logger for The Order. Some day, he hopes to pas on the job to a pupil of his own.
Grit: 1
[Cabal Ivring]
Speciality: Lumberjack
Armaments: Fine Felling Axe, Shitty Hatchet, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Bonus: [Axe-Master] People ain't so different from trees +5 to all axe combat
[Strong] +10 to all physical labour rolls
Condition:
-[Blooding]+ 5 to combat till injured
1,2. No mercy, no retreat. I, Cabal Irving, will use this axe, MY MASTER'S AXE, to cut down this damn unicorn. I cannot let a foe such as this win.
+[Axe Master] (+5)
+[Blooding] (+5)
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6dfd9c No.31768
>>31696
Still waiting for fixed update
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6dfd9c No.32100
| Rolled 87, 79, 56 = 222 (3d100) |
—-Unicorn Combat—
Aura of Pride: -10 to enemy rolls
Corrupting Charge: Bran
+10 Pure Sin
+5 Corrupted Horn
+10 Toxic Miasma
Corrupting Charge: Order Forces
+10 Pure Sin
+5 Corrupted Horn
+10 Toxic Miasma
Spectre-Step:
+10 Pure Sin
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
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6dfd9c No.32101
>>32100
burning grit and fiat for the health of the game
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6dfd9c No.32103
| Rolled 22 (1d100) |
>>32100
[Order Forces: +25]
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6dfd9c No.32105
>>31705
1. [Moderate Success] The hammer blows ring out of the castle each blow making greater and greater sound 8/10
>>31708
1. [Minor Failure] You cut off the flow of magic as you can feel dark tendrils permeate the flow, the Unicorn seems powerful enough to interfere with your casting…
2. [Moderate Success] You manage to heal the soul damage but you doubt you could take a wound like that again -[Soul Torn] +[Soul Sickness]
>>31712
1. [Moderate Failure] Dalmador wheezes as Michelson helps him up, uttering a quick prayer he moves back towards the Unicron brawl…
2. [Minor Success] Cursing his old body he limps back into the brawl throwing a parry saving the life of a wounded Knight before laying blow after ineffectual blow into the dark creatures hide…
>>31713
1. [Major Success] You fire the streaking Magic Bolt across the room at the creature, it slam into the creatures flank causing a black spew of putrid flesh to launch into the air.
>>31718
1. [Critical Success][Grit] Gritting your teeth you manage to parry the creatures horn inches away from piercing your heart, you manage to slash back with your longsword inflicting a shallow wound.
>>31723
1. [Minor Success] Your men begin to loot the now desolate battlefield though they already grabbed the nice stuff… 1/2
>>31730
1. [Moderate Success] You run to the castle for your life, rushing paste the forwards troops at right up to the castle gate.
2. [Moderate Success] Once inside you pant out your story telling of the assault and how help is needed. The Knight in command is horrified by the idea of a Unicorn attack and seems to put off the gatehouse for dead.
>>31731
1. [Minor Success] You narrowly graze the dark beast which seems to never be standing exactly where you think it is…
>>31756
1. [Minor Success] Your narrowly manage to dodge a stab from it’s horn landing a glancing blow on it’s head, however it seems undisturbed
>>31768
1. [Critical Success] You rush past the commander feinting in close and landing a deep slash into the creatures eye with the sword of the Martyr…. the Unicorn roars in pain and seems to be focusing you….
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6dfd9c No.32106
>>32105
Day 5 Phase ???
Breaking of Man
—-
The Unicorn stands upon a pile of corpses even injured it stands as a intimidating figure. The groans and screams of the wounded fill the ears of the defenders echo throughout the gatehouse, only Bran, Dalamdor, Crovetius, Marius, Cabal and Surtin stand tall, all other defenders have been slain or fled….
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6dfd9c No.32108
| Rolled 99, 87 = 186 (2d100) |
>>32105
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 6
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -10 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1. Train my ability to fight, the monsters are coming here next.
2. See if I can get better weapons or armor for myself.
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6dfd9c No.32110
| Rolled 57, 89 = 146 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 +50 Bone Clubs, +[400 Arrows]
Troops: 65 Warriors, 120 Misc Swamplings, +[??? Sword]
1-2. "Scatter! Don't give that unicorn a juicy target, spread out and just keep grabbing up everything. If there isn't any proper loot left I want wood for arrows and shields, just get everything you can.
Then get back to the walls!"
LOOT 1/2
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6dfd9c No.32111
| Rolled 58, 44 = 102 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 years you fucking sperm!
Specialty: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 1
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor [+23 Purity Seals], Fine Dagger
-
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>In command of:
+8 Swampling raiders
+18 Swampling Misc.
+12 Knights of the Martyr
+1 Order Servants
+16 Peasant Hunters
+18 Peasant Misc.
>>Current Condition:
[Moderate Wound: Large Laceration Left Arm: -10 to non-combat rolls] [+Cauterized]
[Major Injury Torso: Massive Splinter: -15 to all rolls]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
{{Death: 3 turns}}
–Actions–
1.2. Dalmador continues to swear as he swings frantically at the unicorn. Although not terribly well versed in unicorns he thinks the horn will be vulnerable – or, if it's not, distracting the creatures buys time for the rest of the knights to figure something out. [Try to sever the horn] [-15]
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6dfd9c No.32112
| Rolled 63, 55 = 118 (2d100) |
>>32105
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 2
Magic Bolt: 0
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 3
Cone of Cold: 2
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 1
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. The men who flee will not survive more than a day if the gatehouse falls. Those who have already fallen have earned themselves a warrior's death, and will rest a million years, in the hearts of the living. Their losses cannot be in vain. I have more spells in my arsenal, though I hesitate to use some of them, for they could spell doom for everyone nearby, even if they work as intended. For now, I will cast a cone of cold on the Unicorn. I will turn its blackened heart to ice. [Cast Cone of Cold on Unicorn]
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6dfd9c No.32113
| Rolled 4 (1d6) |
>>32112
Supercharge?
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6dfd9c No.32114
| Rolled 99, 32 = 131 (2d100) |
>>32105
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition:
1&2. The hammer continues to be swung, and the trance continues. 8/10
+5
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6dfd9c No.32115
| Rolled 6, 96 = 102 (2d100) |
Name: Cabal Irving
Age: 38
Specialty: Lumber Jacking
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Every good fire needs a sturdy heart of wood! Irving has dedicated his life to ensuring the wood stays stocked for The Order, mastering the art of a straight cut through a sturdy log. At the young age of 7, Umber was taken in by The Order. His job was passed on to him by his mentor, the previous logger for The Order. Some day, he hopes to pas on the job to a pupil of his own.
Grit: 1
[Cabal Ivring]
Speciality: Lumberjack
Armaments: Fine Felling Axe, Shitty Hatchet, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Bonus: [Axe-Master] People ain't so different from trees +5 to all axe combat
[Strong] +10 to all physical labour rolls
Condition:
-[Blooding]+ 5 to combat till injured
1,2. The horned bastard still hasn't gone down, but neither have I. (+10)
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6dfd9c No.32116
| Rolled 77, 9 = 86 (2d100) |
>>32105
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 0
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
[Soul Sickness]
12 Cast Modenkainen's Force Missiles. Let a Lord Enchanter show his knowledge of spells with this fruit from the wizards of the icy dale.
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6dfd9c No.32117
>>32116
Mastery +5 to both and [The Ring] to resist that Pride Aura
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6dfd9c No.32118
| Rolled 97, 73, 97, 86 = 353 (4d100) |
—Dark Side—
Dark Forces Morale: +10
Dark Reinforcements: +5
Outer Kingdom Resistance: 0
Wild King Arrival: -25
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6dfd9c No.32119
| Rolled 86, 63 = 149 (2d100) |
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 0 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1/2. This damn beast needs to die, and it needs to die now. Work in Tandem with the rest of the men to strike at the beast when it is occupied with someone else, then parry and draw its ire so that others may strike. We shall make of this menage a septième a beautiful dance of death!
+ 5 From Marius's Banner
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6dfd9c No.32120
| Rolled 3, 32, 58, 27 = 120 (4d100) |
—-Unicorn Combat—
Aura of Pride: -10 to enemy rolls
Corrupting Charge: Armian
+10 Pure Sin
+5 Corrupted Horn
+10 Toxic Miasma
Corrupting Charge: Bran
+10 Pure Sin
+5 Corrupted Horn
+10 Toxic Miasma
Spectre-Step:
+10 Pure Sin
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
Corrupted Mana:
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
+10 Pure Sin
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6dfd9c No.32121
| Rolled 70, 31 = 101 (2d100) |
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Fatepoint:2
Magical ballista bolts:6
1.2. The beast is already focused on me anyways drive my sword down the beasts throat.
Sword of the Hero +5
[Master Swordsman]+10
[Advanced Tactician] +5
+ 5 From Marius's Banner
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6dfd9c No.32122
>>32121
burn a fatepoint to finish off the beast
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6dfd9c No.32123
| Rolled 22, 19, 65, 15 = 121 (4d100) |
>>32122
What's a fatepoint?
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6dfd9c No.32128
| Rolled 28, 18 = 46 (2d100) |
>>32105
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
"STAND FIRM, COWARDLY BEAST! YOUR PRIDE IS ILL-WARRANTED, FOR NO THING THAT WALKS THE EARTH SHOULD BE -PRIDEFUL- THAT THEY ARE TOO SCARED OF INJURY TO WITHSTAND A BLOW!"
Marius cracked his neck and lunged forward to bring his hammer down in a savage downward stroke. "-DIE-!"
1/2. Kill the Unicorn.
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6dfd9c No.32268
| Rolled 60, 71 = 131 (2d100) |
>>32105
Sigismund Berinhard Sheet
http://pastebin.com/gGSb2ew6
1-2; Slay the Unicorn with my lightning enchanted sword. Focus on its legs to get it to the ground. If it's already kill, kill any outlying enemies and loot the battlefield, preferably for a better shield
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6dfd9c No.32704
>>32108
1. [Critical Success] You train with your new spear ands seem to pick it up quite fast! [Revise Untrained to -5]
2. [Major Success] The Knight’s issue you [Fine Chainmail] and a [Shoddy Spear] but the quarter master jokes about the good it will do.
>>32110
1. [Major Success] You men manage to gather a huge pile of weapons +[Weapons Pile], they however do notice a rather large army now marching down towards them…
>>32111
1. [Minor Failure] You blink several times trying to focus your ever blurring vision as you hack viscously at the head of the Unicorn. You are unsure wether you even hit anything but continue to attack again and again as the coldness continues to spread through your body.
>>32112
1. [Moderate Success] You focus the Cone of Cold on one section of the Unicorn blasting into it’s hind legs causing them to crack and freeze under the intensity of the frost magic.
>>32114
1. [Critical Success] You can feel the blood dripping from your face onto the anvil, each swing cracking like thunder, every fiber in your body is telling you to stop this madness. However you ignore it all only the steel matters, only this great weapon of battle would matter. You finally take the hammer quenching it in a barrel of water. As you pull the weapon out you gasp, it is a thing of beauty! Glowing a faint white light and fashioned in the stylings of the Hadrin the Iron Father “SIEGEBREAKER” IS COMPLETE!
>>32115
1. [Critical Success] You bring your axe high above your head as you scream a war cry sinking the blade deep into the Unicorns putrid flesh severing it’s spinal cord.
>>32116
1. [Major Success] You channel the magic through your body and out your finger tips as the purple spiralling bolts slam into the Unicorn blowing off massive chunks of flesh.
>>32119
1. [Major Success] You land shallow slash after shallow slash on the Unicorn’s hide driving it into a frenzy drawing it’s attention to you even when it tries to attack Armian.
>>32128
1. [Minor Failure] You lash out with your hammer cracking the head on the gatehouse’s stone floor +[Damaged Fine Lucerne Hammer
>>32268
1. [Moderate Success] Your sword crackles with electricity as you dodge to the side slicing through the foul creatures leg forcing it to the ground as the lightning surges through it’s body.
>>32121
1. [Critical Success] The Unicorn lashes out at you it’s horn pulsing with dark energy, bringing up the blade of the martyr you reflect the horn up before lungeing forward and slamming your blade to the hilt through the creatures neck. It lets force a horrible scream as you force the blade across decapitating the beast. It’s dark flesh melts away into a putrid mess leaving only the white bones….
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6dfd9c No.32705
>>32704
Day 6 Phase 1
From Dusk to Dawn, War
—-
The Knights gather around the slain Unicorn amazed that they are still alive and horrified at the damage that only one creature could create. Surtin informs all there that it is far for over, in three days the creature would resurrect itself and come seeking to reclaim it’s horn, however at least for now they could rest. This sense of relief and victory is soon disrupted as the Swamplings come swarming through the broken gate telling of a huge army approaching through the forest. They say that the army flies the banner of the White Stag, Sigil of the High Fey Lord Oberon Veek Tori..
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6dfd9c No.32708
>>32705
>>32704
Bran turns to his men, tired but still eager from the rush of fighting such a powerful creature.
"We need more men down here now, and Dalmador, you need to not die, we can still make use of your wrinkly ass. You, Cabal is it? Take Dalmador back to the castle proper and see to it he gets aid, and send for more men, About 70, any man that looks like they can swing a sword. Tell the castle guard to also make ready, we'll try to hold them here, but we very well may need to fall back. We've made it this long men, and we've slain a creature that meeker men would dub a god. We can do this, we can stand defiant in the face of the Wild King and his horde, together!"
>>red and crimson are to return to the castle, to not die/get more men down here ASAP
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6dfd9c No.32709
| Rolled 8, 34 = 42 (2d100) |
>>32704
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Flax Clothing
Wooden Shield (using)
[Shoddy Spear] (using)
[Fine Chainmail] (using)
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 6
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -5 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1.Train with my spear more. I need to be not shit at combat and soon. That monster is going to be here any minute!
2.Try to get a better spear from the quartermaster or the smith to fix it? Don't want it to fall apart in a fight.
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6dfd9c No.32710
>>32709
grit point action 1
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6dfd9c No.32711
>>32705
Kin of mine, condemned and misguided as you are will I be able to shed no tears at your passing. Will I need to strike you down myself?
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6dfd9c No.32712
| Rolled 54, 51 = 105 (2d100) |
Name: Dalmador the Scarred
Age: 55 years you fucking sperm!
Specialty: Shock Infantry
Background: Dalmador is the old man of the order – aside from Sir Crovetius. Unlike Crovetius right he should have been promoted, but he wasn't. It not clear why. Perhaps he rubbed too many people the wrong way. Perhaps he had too many of his fellows arrested for a variety of crimes that were more like simple infractions. Perhaps he just made everyone else look bad by actually attempting to uphold the grooming standard. In any event, he's been passed up for promotion repeatedly despite his considerable experience working as an expert in shock tactics on foot and on a mount. This lack of promotion has produced certain resentments. Over the years he has grown exceedingly grouchy and mean as he has been passed over; This generally translates into some amount of yelling at prevailing (always younger) "authority" figures that he feels should be feeding his horse or playing with a stick somewhere. But they aren’t. They’re trying to tell him what to do. They’re trying to tell him what to do. And he knows better. Because they’re children. Sniveling children.
In combat Dalmdador, while somewhat old, still demonstrates a fighting style that is, in a word, frightening. He fights up close and personal without much regard to his own safety. This has left him with a variety of startling injuries, but with a reputation as being “made of iron”. The man is very hard to kill, in truth, but it’s unclear with his advanced age how much longer this sort of reputation will hold. No doubt he will outlive the babies and children that run the order, though. Except Crovetius. Crovetius might outlive him.
–
Grit: 1
-
Speciality: Shock Infantry
Armaments: Fine Great-sword, Fine Plate Armor [+23 Purity Seals], Fine Dagger
-
>Bonuses:
+[Unkillable] When you take an injury roll a D6. If a 6 ignore injury. Applies to all injuries from an arrow to the leg to be incinerated by a dragon.
+[Scary] +10 to rally troops
>Negatives:
+[Resentful] -10 to all rolls if under the command of other knights [Does not apply to Knight-Steward as he is always in command]
+[Old as Hell] You get tired twice as fast
+[Neat Freak] You must spend one action every day enforcing the grooming standard on yourself and 1 action enforcing it on other people or be [Demoralized]
>>Current Condition:
[Moderate Wound: Large Laceration Left Arm: -10 to non-combat rolls] [+Cauterized]
[Major Injury Torso: Massive Splinter: -15 to all rolls]
–Command Information:–
[Garrison Peasants Morale: Moderate]
[Swampling Morale: Scared Straight]
[Dalmador Morale: Impeccable as always]
[Blessed by Michelson]
{{Death: 2 turns}}
————
Actions
————
1.2. Dalmador passes out. [-25]
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6dfd9c No.32713
>>32708
Bran looks out of the shattered Gatehouse gate at the massive army gathered on the forest's edge, white banners waving in the breeze, the scent of death heavy on the wind. He finally speaks
"You have all fought like heroes, and even if no one knows our story here, the gods will, and we shall be hailed in the heavens as those who stood against the darkness, who fought to preserve the light. I cannot ask anymore of you then I already have, so in the face of this oncoming horde, I give you but one order…"
Bran unsheathes his sword
"Survive."
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6dfd9c No.32714
>>32711
You are the one who has betrayed me brother! Do your kin mean nothing to you! How could you turn against our eternal lord and side with these ignorant inbreds!
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6dfd9c No.32715
| Rolled 36, 80 = 116 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 +50 Bone Clubs, +[400 Arrows]
Troops: 65 Warriors, 120 Misc Swamplings, +[??? Sword]
+[Weapons Pile]
1-2. "Back to the castle with you lot!"
Okay, I first off, i arm all my 65 Warriors to upgrade their kit first.
Then with any leftovers, I arm more men. I prioritize fighting men of age, especially if they're any of my 120 Misc swamplings left. I'll be a bit lenient here but I won't arm grandfathe with a shield and sword.
If I don't have any capable fighting men left to train, go for the Order's unarmed adults whoever they are and if they know how to fight but don't have weapons yet.
We need more armed men to fight!
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6dfd9c No.32717
| Rolled 42, 59 = 101 (2d100) |
>>32704
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 0
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
[Soul Sickness]
12 The decapitated head of the unicorn, and more importantly its horn are now ours. It must be cleansed in hope that its damned soul will be scattered forever. If the horn can be saved it may yet be another star in the sky, another light in the darkness and become a focus of power.
My greatest masterpiece, my Ring will banish the evil in this horn.
>>32713
Well spoken. It will be a fight worthy of sagas.
>>32714
Do not seek to lecture me brother! I do not fear the Light as our kin do! They will bring an end to this…this madness! He was bested once and will be again.
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6dfd9c No.32718
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6dfd9c No.32723
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 68, 58 + 10 = 136 (2d100) |
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 0 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1.
>>32713
>>32708
see speeches, party buff
+[Leader of Men]
2. And with his men Bran would stand, fighting and bleeding and screaming as they did, and if it came to it, dying like they did as well.
"Here we are men, born to be kings. We're the Princes of the Universe! Fighting to survive in a war with the darkest power!"
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6dfd9c No.32724
| Rolled 61, 71 + 10 = 142 (2d100) |
and plus 5 from jaundice's banner
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6dfd9c No.32725
>>32112
Sir Crovetius I could use assistance to banish the evil that seeks to resurrect itself in three days time but so could the men who hold the wall. Perhaps I ask much of a young master of the Art but I am in no position to refuse anything available.
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6dfd9c No.32731
| Rolled 58, 11 = 69 (2d100) |
>>32704
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Damaged Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
1/2. Marius grunts quietly at the corpse of the unicorn and staggers away from the gate. A lesser man, a saner man, may have broached the obvious objection to staying and fighting. But Marius was not a lesser, saner man. The thought of his death brought grim satisfaction to him, but he would meet his death fighting.
Having fought for two days straight, the linesman collapses in a dark corner of the gatehouse and surrenders, at least for now, to sleep.
Marius sleeps before the White Stag attack.
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6dfd9c No.32742
| Rolled 91, 76 = 167 (2d100) |
>>32704
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition:
1&2. Quickly, to the gatehouse. I must find a worthy wielder for Siegebreaker. Iron father guide me.
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6dfd9c No.32785
| Rolled 19, 74 = 93 (2d100) |
Name: Cabal Irving
Age: 38
Specialty: Lumber Jacking
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Every good fire needs a sturdy heart of wood! Irving has dedicated his life to ensuring the wood stays stocked for The Order, mastering the art of a straight cut through a sturdy log. At the young age of 7, Umber was taken in by The Order. His job was passed on to him by his mentor, the previous logger for The Order. Some day, he hopes to pas on the job to a pupil of his own.
Grit: 1
[Cabal Ivring]
Speciality: Lumberjack
Armaments: Fine Felling Axe, Shitty Hatchet, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Bonus: [Axe-Master] People ain't so different from trees +5 to all axe combat
[Strong] +10 to all physical labour rolls
Condition:
-[Blooding]+ 5 to combat till injured
1,2. I have my orders, I will rally men at the castle to join us in battle at the gate!
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6dfd9c No.32788
| Rolled 23, 54 = 77 (2d100) |
>>32106
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion] -> 0
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1. Sylvan showed up uncertain what just happened. He would probably need a whole lot of arrows for the coming day, though he had no illusions that they would make any difference.
2. Sylvan would try to find out who was in charge of whatever remained of the garrison. They had done whatever they could, but most of the men present had been killed or scattered. Even if they could hold out for one more day, what difference would it make in the eyes of inevitable defeat? He needed someone to talk to about this whole dying in vain thing.
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6dfd9c No.32789
| Rolled 17, 53 = 70 (2d100) |
>>32704
>>32725
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 2
Magic Bolt: 0
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 3
Cone of Cold: 2
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 1
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. The old mage slumps into his seat, as the battle rages around him. He's certainly too old for this. With a chuckle, he addresses the Enchanter. "Tori, I'm young to you, but I'm nearly as old as people get before they start losing their minds. That being said, I'd be happy to think through what I know about unicorns to figure out what to do about the corpse and horn while I rest. The obvious decision would be to take the horn far away, or put it somewhere exceedingly difficult or dangerous for the unicorn to reach. There is probably a magical solution, but I'd need to think about it."
[Rest and think about how to deal with the Unicorn.]
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6dfd9c No.32879
| Rolled 91 (1d100) |
>>32705
High Fey Lord: Vine Bridge
+15 Supreme Sorcerer
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
+5 Brotherly Hate
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6dfd9c No.32880
>>32709
1. [Major Failure] You wish you had more time to train as the Knight in command gather you with a small force to head down to the gatehouse…
2. [Minor Failure] No such spear is available
>>32712
1. [Minor Success] Dalmador makes one more grunt before slumping to the ground blood pooling out from his armor, the old bastard is finally dead, he had held on to the bitter end.
>>32715
1. [Major Success] You arm the warriors and anyone who can carry a sword as you head back the castle +[65 Darksteel Warriors] +[40 Untrained Swampling fighters]
>>32717
1. [Moderate Success] You try and force the taint from the Unicorn horn to unbind it from it’s black soul, however the magic is too strong and a severe backlash is forced into your body +[Mana Sickness: You cannot cast spells for 3 turns]
>>32723
1. [Moderate Success] You rally your few remaining men to fight back the overwhelming invaders
2. [Moderate Success] You quickly engage the first creature to jump over the moat, a foul corpse-born with stinks of death and rotting flesh! It lashes out at you with grotesque claws which you narrowly dodge before striking back at it, however your blade does no lasting damage against the creatures dark flesh.
>>32731
1. [Minor Success] Marius slumps down to sleep exhausted from the days of fighting. As he sleeps he dreams of a great forge crafted from the peak of a mountain and a titanic figure who works their. The figure is about to speak when Marius is shaken awake and someone forces a war-hammer glowing with burning with holy light into his hands.
>>32742
1. [Major Success] You can feel your lungs burn as you sprint down to the gatehouse hammer in hand. You are greeted with a gruesome sight as piles of bodies litter the inner gatehouse and you see few men still fighting against horrid corpse creatures who seek to swarm the broken gate. You force the thought of what has happened to your son as you let the hammer guide you to the one who will weld it. You find a slumbering knight who you shake awake forcing the hammer into his hands.
>>32785
1. [Moderate Success] You run to castle relaying orders and a small force is sent back with you, the commander of the castle does not seem confident of your odds on holding the gatehouse…..
>>32788
1. [Minor Failure] You scramble around gathering what few arrows you can before heading out to find anyone alive.
3. [Minor Success] You scramble down the stairs to the inner courtyard where you find a sorely outmatched Knight-Steward facing off against a horde of fetid dark ghouls. You notch an arrow sucking in air as you lose an arrow joining the fray.
>>32789
1. [Moderate Success] You rest your aching bones as you ponder the futility of the situation. You quickly dismiss these dark thoughts thinking back to the unicorn horn, if you got back to your tower you might have the regents for a banishing ritual but you are here not there….
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6dfd9c No.32881
>>32880
Day 6 Phase 2
Rot, Suffering and Darkness
—-
The Outriders of the Fey army are rotting Corpse-born much like the creature Malachi was turned into a few days ago. These black creatures easily jump across and scale the gatehouse walls swarming over the remaining defenders. Those who still stand barely hold on as the creatures supernatural endurance slowly but steadily forces the scattered defenders back inch by inch.
—-
The main fey host is approaching the gatehouse as the High Fey Lord raises a single hand causing an avalanche of vines to burst from the ground creating a bridge for him to cross.
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6dfd9c No.32882
| Rolled 7, 76 = 83 (2d100) |
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Fatepoint:2
Magical ballista bolts:6
1.2. Sleep in the fucking gatehouse before the enemy attacks. Have one of those other fuckers wake me up if they attack early .
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6dfd9c No.32883
>>32882
1. [Moderate Success] You are quickly called into action as you join with the Commander wielding your Holy Blade the only weapon that seems to put down these disgusting corpse-born.
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6dfd9c No.32884
| Rolled 86, 11, 25, 12 = 134 (4d100) |
—Dark Side—
Dark Forces Morale: +20
Dark Reinforcements: 0
Outer Kingdom Resistance: +10
Wild King Arrival: -20
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6dfd9c No.32885
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 45, 76, 94, 42 = 257 (4d100) |
>>32881
Theme Music for Siegebreaker…
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6dfd9c No.32886
| Rolled 72, 5 = 77 (2d100) |
>>32880
>>32704
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Siegebreaker, Damaged Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
1/2. First, Marius stared at the burning hammer shoved into his hand, looking up at the smith with a look of quizzical incomprehension.
Then, gripping the weapon tight and tilting his head to the sounds of battle, Marius gave a vindictive snort. He waved the smith off and rose to a stand, clutching the hammer tight in one hand and hefting his kite shield with the other.
The screams of men and the rasps of ghouls were about as good a thing to wake up to as any. He didn't know what this weapon did, he didn't know why it was given to him, but he did know that he was going to put a few dozen more notches in his belt before the day was done, one way or another.
Use Siegebreaker to fight back the ghoulish hordes.
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6dfd9c No.32887
| Rolled 24, 86 = 110 (2d100) |
>>32880
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 0
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
[Soul Sickness]
[Mana Sickness: You cannot cast spells for 3 turns]
12 Strike down the filthy Corpse-Born crossing the bridge into the gatehouse. Wielding my scimitar and stepping unerringly toward the enemy funneled by the gatehouse. Armored with contempt for these creatures I see they are the fodder that must fall.
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6dfd9c No.32888
>>32887
+5 to make it 91 and revise Mana Sickness to 1 turn.
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6dfd9c No.32889
| Rolled 70, 90 = 160 (2d100) |
>>32880
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Flax Clothing,[Shoddy Spear]
Wooden Shield (using)
[Fine Spear] (using)
[Fine Chainmail] (using)
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 5
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -5 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1-2. More m-monsters. And they heal as fast as I can hurt them. W-well let it not be said I died without fighting! Die Monsters! Try to force them off the top of the gatehouse or keep their attention of the people who CAN hurt them.
-[Untrained] -5 to all combat rolls
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6dfd9c No.32890
| Rolled 37, 84 = 121 (2d100) |
>>32884
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 0 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1. Bran watches as his sword slices the darkling, only for the skin to reform in the place where his blade has passed through just moments ago.
"Magic….. MAGICAL CREATURES!"
He drives the beast back for a moment, before shouting to his men, both those in the gatehouse and those arriving now
"These creatures are not harmed by normal weapons! Focus on driving them away from our men with magical weapons and allowing those men to get as many clean kills as possible!"
+[Leader of Men]
2. Bran then Works on doing the very same, driving the outriders into the path of Marius and his Magical Mallet and Armian and his amazing arming sword.
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6dfd9c No.32891
1. 37
+10 from bonus and +5 from banner makes
52
2. 89 from +5 from banner
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6dfd9c No.32897
| Rolled 41, 51 = 92 (2d100) |
>>32880
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition:
1&2. Back to the castle with me. I require sleep before I can get back to work. How long has it been since I started on that hammer?
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6dfd9c No.32953
| Rolled 27, 6 = 33 (2d100) |
Name: Cabal Irving
Age: 38
Specialty: Lumber Jacking
Rank: Order Servant
Background: Every good fire needs a sturdy heart of wood! Irving has dedicated his life to ensuring the wood stays stocked for The Order, mastering the art of a straight cut through a sturdy log. At the young age of 7, Umber was taken in by The Order. His job was passed on to him by his mentor, the previous logger for The Order. Some day, he hopes to pas on the job to a pupil of his own.
Grit: 1
[Cabal Ivring]
Speciality: Lumberjack
Armaments: Fine Felling Axe, Shitty Hatchet, Wooden Shield, Flax Clothing
Bonus: [Axe-Master] People ain't so different from trees +5 to all axe combat
[Strong] +10 to all physical labour rolls
Condition:
-[Blooding]+ 5 to combat till injured
1,2. With what few men I have, I will strike those attacking the gate. My life has been devoted to The Order, and it will not end here! (+10)
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6dfd9c No.33144
| Rolled 42, 39, 4 = 85 (3d100) |
>>32881
[High Fey Lord]
Corrupting Blast: Surtin
+15 Supreme Sorcerer
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
+5 Brotherly Hate
Raging Thorns: Armian
+15 Supreme Sorcerer
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
+5 Brotherly Hate
Tyrant's Spring: Marius
+15 Supreme Sorcerer
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
+5 Brotherly Hate
-10 Siege Breaker
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6dfd9c No.33148
| Rolled 11 (1d100) |
>>32882
Tansen is a faggit dice
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6dfd9c No.33149
| Rolled 24 (1d100) |
>>33148
tansen's other dice :3
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6dfd9c No.33154
| Rolled 84, 9 = 93 (2d100) |
>>32881
▶Dara 10/20/16 (Thu) 22:32:45 c2f56b No.32789>>32880
Dice roll Rolled 17, 53 = 70 (2d100)
>>32704
>>32725
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 2
Magic Bolt: 0
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 3
Cone of Cold: 2
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 1
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. I cannot simply walk back to my tower. I'm a blind old man. I cannot pull a fighter away from the combat, because we need every man we can get. Therefore, I shall summon a Wraith Warrior to protect me and Stella, while we head back to my quarters to gather reagents. In particular, I need the components to destroy that horn once and for all. While I'm there, perhaps I can stock up on other ingredients, so that O have more fight left in me.
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6dfd9c No.33155
| Rolled 3 (1d6) |
>>33154
Rolling for supercharge.
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6dfd9c No.33162
| Rolled 34 (1d100) |
>>32953
[????]
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6dfd9c No.33163
| Rolled 91 (1d100) |
>>32886
[Siege Breaker Power Level: Unkindled]
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6dfd9c No.33164
| Rolled 52, 41 = 93 (2d100) |
[Order Forces: -10]
[Dark Forces: +20]
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6dfd9c No.33165
| Rolled 80, 94 = 174 (2d100) |
>>32886
1. [Boost Critical Success] Wielding the holy hammer you surge into the horde of Corpseborn smashing them aside tiredness seemingly purged from your body as vitality roars through you. With every swing the hammer seems to grow in brilliance and power causing the ghouls to shrink away from you. You notice the High Fey Lord cross the vine bridge casting so magic at you but it seems the spell had no effect.
[Roll 3rd dice for Siege Breaker power level]
>>32887
1. [Major Success] You join with the scattered defenders and meagre reinforcements to throw back the foul corpseborn. Your scimitar sings a litany of death and fire sending the creatures to their final rest. You find yourself barely dodging a narrow corrupted bolt thrown by your brother.
>>32889
1. [Major Success] You run with the reinforcements formed on mostly peasant levies with a few scattered Knights and meet up with the scattered defenders. While your weapon is near useless on the corpseborn you help funnel them towards those that can kill them.
>>32890
1.[Minor Success] Your orders go out to the arriving reinforcements as they funnel the corpseborn towards either Armian, Marius, Surtin or Crovetius’s Wraith Warrior.
2. [Major Success] You join in as it takes all of your efforts to stop Armian from being killed, who mad this smuck the Orders Champion?
>>32897
1. [Minor Success] You head back to the Castle ignoring questions about the situation so you can collapse into your bed for some much needed rest.
>>32953
1. [Minor Failure] You join with the others funnelling the corpseborn into the magically charged kill zone.
>>33154
1. [Major Success] You grasp the bones as you chant the spell throwing the spell in the midst of the corpseborn. The Wraith Warrior joins the brawl as you slowly make your way back up to the castle.
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6dfd9c No.33166
| Rolled 23, 9 = 32 (2d100) |
>>33165
Day 6 Phase 2
Brotherly Love
—
The scattered defenders rally on the Knight-Steward as they funnel the corpseborn towards those with magical armaments. Marius proves a lynchpin of this maneuver with Siege Breaker burning white hot as it smashes and pulps any who cross it. The High Fey Lord and his vanguard watch as the corpseborn are mopped up. He strides across the bridge alone corruption and rot spreading with each step, the less stoic of the defenders simply faint or fall into gibbering messes.
“Brother! Come face me! You have broken the laws of our King and you must die for it! For the love I once held for you I will make your death painless!”
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6dfd9c No.33167
| Rolled 91, 65, 85, 13 = 254 (4d100) |
—Dark Side—
Dark Forces Morale: +25
Dark Reinforcements: 0
Outer Kingdom Resistance: +15
Wild King Arrival: -20
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6dfd9c No.33168
| Rolled 66 (1d100) |
>>33167
[???? Rally]
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6dfd9c No.33169
| Rolled 8, 65 = 73 (2d100) |
>>33165
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 0
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
[Soul Sickness]
1 Counterspell to usurp what he attempts. +5 Mastery
2 +5 Mastery
"Brother abandon it! It is no King! It is meant to leave this place and be lost in shadow and -we- are meant to return to our home and tend the gardens we once roamed…or so I hoped once but not anymore."
I will defeat him with the scimitar
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6dfd9c No.33170
| Rolled 28, 58, 60 = 146 (3d100) |
>>33166
>>33165
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Siegebreaker, Damaged Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
Power suffused the thickly armored knight. As the last ghoulish creature crumpled before him, he cast his eyes to the fae lord that was now striding over the vine bridge– and to the Order's OWN resident fae marching forward to duel him.
He had no doubt that their opponent would try to further corrupt the ancient, turning it to the Wild King's side. And so, Marius held his hammer at the ready and watched the duel unfold…
1/2. Watch the duel: if it looks like Surtin is going to lose, leap into the fray from behind and strike the opposing Fae lord down before he can finish it.
And if Surtin is -sparing- his brother, Marius will then, too, leap in and play executioner.
3. Siegebreaker Charge
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6dfd9c No.33172
| Rolled 49, 53 = 102 (2d100) |
>>32880
>Name: Sylvan
>Age: 22
>Speciality: Skirmisher
>Rank: [Order Servant]
>Background:
Long Story Bro
>Armament:
+ Fine Hunting Bow (12 Iron Arrows + Quiver)
+ Hide Armor
+ Poor Dagger
>Grit: 3 [See Secion] -> 0
>Bonuses:
+ [Hunter of Beasts] +10 to rolls against all beast-type foes
+ [Night Owl] You gain no disadvantage from fighting in darkness.
+ [Dodge Mastery] +10 to dodge attempts
>Negative:
- [Lowblood] -10 to all commands towards those of Noble Blood
- [Night Owl] Gain disadvantage while fighting during the day
- [Scared of Women] You freeze while confronting any woman unless you get a Major success or higher without modifiers.
1-2. Disgusting creatures in the Castle! Quite a surprise, but they would have to die none the less!
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6dfd9c No.33175
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6dfd9c No.33177
A runner is sent back to the castle with orders for the Swampling chief from the Knight-Steward, and for the commander of the castle in his absence
"Fire arrows to the front of the gatehouse, prepare the castle for combat, make ready for war."
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6dfd9c No.33178
| Rolled 46, 13 = 59 (2d100) |
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 0 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1/2. Surtin is fighting his brother, I cannot do anything to help him, this fight is beyond my and many of my men's abilities. Therefore I shall take the men that would otherwise be standing watching the fight and have them search the gatehouse top to bottom to look for something to aid us in this fight, and I do mean anything. Search this place from top to bottom!
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6dfd9c No.33179
>>33178
1/2. +15 from banner and leader of men
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6dfd9c No.33180
| Rolled 93, 18 = 111 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 +50 Bone Clubs, +[400 Arrows]
Troops: +[65 Darksteel Warriors], +[40 Untrained Swampling fighters] 120 Misc Swamplings, +[??? Sword]
+[Weapons Pile]
>>33177
"Aye!"
1. "Alright you lot, you heard the Lord Commandah!"
Feeling a lot safer in their Darksteel Armor, the Swamplings still take up their positions behind walls and ditches and proceed to unleash a volley directly onto the front of the gatehouse
2. The other Swamplings proceed to train, learning how to fight while there is still time before actual fighting
+[40 Untrained Swampling fighters]
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6dfd9c No.33181
>>33180
Man Raider was most dissapointed. "That's the most pathetic training I've ever seen. What are you, a bunch of old men and ladies?"
"We are a bunch of old men you twat. You even have our ladies pickin' up bows."
"I didn't tell you to fookin' stop. Now get back to trainin' you cunts."
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6dfd9c No.33205
| Rolled 76, 96 = 172 (2d100) |
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Fatepoint:2
Magical ballista bolts:6
1.2. Assist the commander in searching the gatehouse.
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6dfd9c No.33224
| Rolled 71, 76 = 147 (2d100) |
>>33165
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Flax Clothing,[Shoddy Spear]
Wooden Shield (using)
[Fine Spear] (using)
[Fine Chainmail] (using)
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 5
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -5 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1-2. Head to the tower's Ballista, and start firing at the army as soon as the duel is over or a general melee breaks out.
+5 banner
-5 untrained?
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6dfd9c No.33229
| Rolled 41 (1d100) |
>>33205
[Loot Crate]
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6dfd9c No.33238
| Rolled 33, 93, 36 = 162 (3d100) |
>>33165
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 2
Magic Bolt: 0
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 3
Cone of Cold: 2
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 1
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
The only thing for it is to keep moving forward, with Stella as my eyes. Once I arrive, I will loot my chambers for all of the reagents I can carry.
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6dfd9c No.33416
| Rolled 40, 99, 85 = 224 (3d100) |
>>33169
[High Fey Lord]
Power Word Death: Surtin
+15 Supreme Sorcerer
+10 Blessing of the Wild King
+5 Brotherly Hate
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6dfd9c No.33417
| Rolled 80 (1d100) |
>>33416
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6dfd9c No.33418
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6dfd9c No.33419
| Rolled 9, 81 = 90 (2d100) |
>>33165
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 2
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition:
1&2. As the siege is yet done the forge work is yet done. Continue to repair and forge, generally whatever needs done.
+5 from Master Smith
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6dfd9c No.33420
>>33419
still need to fix grit to 0
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6dfd9c No.33459
| Rolled 55 (1d100) |
>>33170
[Fey Vanguard]
+10 Ancient Warrior
+5 Unnatural Reflexes
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6dfd9c No.33463
>>33169
1. [Moderate Failure] You fire off a counter spell as your brother begins to cast a spell of his own. You feel a searing pain as the mana backlash forces itself up your arm causing you to fall screaming to the ground. With a simple gesture and word your brother unleashes one of the strongest and most dangerous spells, the Ancient Symbol of Death. You can feel your body turn to ash and crumbles before him leaving nothing but black dust. For any mortal man this would be the end but you have managed to sever your soul from your body and now drift in the ethereal void. You must quickly find a host before you dissipate.
>>33170
1. [Moderate Success] You see with a flick of his wrist the High Fey Lord turn Surtin into black ash, his body crumbling away infront of you. You leap forward Siegebreaker blazing attempting to strike down the dark sorcerer. You find your blow blocked by one of the heavily armored vanguard who form up around their lord.
>>33172
????
>>33178
1. [Minor Success] You send the men to gather arms and armor from the gatehouse allowing them to become slightly better equipped as the reform into ranks. You have a total of thirty men here now most of them peasants, who ever holds the castle sent few knights…
>>33180
1. [Major Success] The Swamplings set up on the road heading up the castle in the perfect position to assist any retreat from the gatehouse, however firing from this position would be blind and wild.
2. [Moderate Failure] No training is had as the men set up
>>33205
1. [Critical Success] You search the gatehouse on some mad quest by the Knight-Steward as you about to give up you lean against the wall a brick sliding in as you do so. You quickly pull down the bricks to reveal a small chamber which stands a statue of Ijal weeping over hold in her hands a spear crafted of gleaming silver and wreathed in glowing ruins
+[Spear of the Hero]
>>33224
1. [Moderate Success] You head to the top of the gatehouse as the other men frantically search the gatehouse. From the ramparts you can see the full futility of this situation as an ocean of Darklings, Corpseborn and other foul creatures wait to move on the gatehouse. Still you begin to load the ballista maybe you can at least take some with you.
>>33238
1. [Major Success] You scramble through your study finding the purifying salt and tears of a virgin it would require to purify the horn, though it will still be a dangerous spell to pull of.
>>33419
1. [Major Success] You return to the castle which stands mostly in a drunken stupor as the Knights drink what little alcohol they have left. You walk numb back to your forge which few embers still burn. Your young son and wife wait there for you, they look to you for answers? Would this be the last day as the Knights say?
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6dfd9c No.33464
>>33463
Day 6 Phase 3
Tide of Shadows
—
Surtin Veek Tori crumples into a heap of black ash with a simple flick of the wrist from his brother. The High Fey Lord retreats into his vanguard as they slowly begin to advance each step marked with the rhythmic smash of sword on shield. The defenders form up on the Knight-Steward waiting for orders but even the most resolute can feel their courage lacking.
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6dfd9c No.33467
| Rolled 41 (1d100) |
>>33168
[???? Ambush]
+10 ?????
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6dfd9c No.33468
| Rolled 23, 98 = 121 (2d100) |
>>33467
[???? Forces]
+5 Ambush
+10 Zealous
+10 Veteran
+10 Blessing of the New Gods
+5 Blessing of the Old Gods
Versus
[Wild King's Host]
-5 Ambushed
-10 Supply Line
+10 Dark Magics
+15 Ruthless
+10 Wild King's Blessing
+20 Wild King
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6dfd9c No.33469
| Rolled 77, 16, 64 = 157 (3d100) |
>>33463
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Siegebreaker, Damaged Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
Power suffused the thickly armored knight. As the last ghoulish creature crumpled before him, he cast his eyes to the fae lord that was now striding over the vine bridge– and to the Order's OWN resident fae marching forward to duel him.
He had no doubt that their opponent would try to further corrupt the ancient, turning it to the Wild King's side. And so, Marius held his hammer at the ready and watched the duel unfold…
Marius warily stepped backward from the now advancing vanguard. That this creature had so easily struck down their most powerful sorcerer gave Marius pause– what fell desire kept it from annihilating the Order? Why would it merely fall back and send its whelps forward?
Marius scowled beneath the visor of his helm and readjusted the red-hot hammer in his grip, turning his head over his shoulder to Bran.
"Knight-Steward, I fear we must make a fighting retreat. Go, I'll help cover us. If anyone can fend off these scum-blooded curs…"
Marius raised his shield and began walking backward in a battle-ready stance, staring down the vanguard without fear. "It's -me-."
1/2. Marius joins the Order in making a fighting retreat. Strike down any Vanguard member that steps forward. Once we're in the castle we can plan a counterattack, with the Knight-Steward's guidance, surely.
If all is lost, toss Siegebreaker to someone else and hold the line. But surely, it won't come to that…?
3. Siegebreaker Charge
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6dfd9c No.33470
>>33463
1.2.After I find the Spear I decide it is a sign and run towards the gorge that has had weird sounds coming out and leap into it slaying niggas with Spear in one hand longsword in the other.
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6dfd9c No.33471
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
| Rolled 92, 47 + 15 = 154 (2d100) |
>>33463
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 0 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1/2. Bran quickly unlatches the horn from his waist before quickly saying to his men
"If this doesn't work then we're falling back to the castle, a fighting retreat. Give them hell!"
He Quickly brought the horn to his lips and then took in as much air as he could, before letting out a mighty toot
[Leader of Men]
[Banner]
[Horn of Hero]
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6dfd9c No.33472
| Rolled 69, 89 = 158 (2d100) |
>>33463
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Flax Clothing,[Shoddy Spear]
Wooden Shield (using)
[Fine Spear] (using)
[Fine Chainmail] (using)
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 5
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -5 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1.Fire the Ballista at the Enemy
+5 banner
-5 untrained?
2.Keep firing, not like there is a lack of targets
+5 banner
-5 untrained?
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6dfd9c No.33473
>>33472
spend a grit on action 1 and action 2
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6dfd9c No.33486
| Rolled 60, 26 = 86 (2d100) |
>>33463
Name: Urist Von'Uristein
Age: 39
Speciality: Smith of Hardin
Rank: Servant
Background: Urist is a priest of Hardin, and as such learned the ways of blacksmithing to show his devotion to the god of metal and craft. It was a fairly simple life, preaching the word of Hardin and swinging the hammer, both enough to feed his wife his children. Then the siege came, and Urist worked as hard as he could.
Grit: 0
Armaments: Smith Hammer, Wollen Clothes, Fine Dagger
Bonus: [Master-Smith] +5 to all smithing rolls
Negative: [Family Man] - You have one son who fights in the militia and another who runs arrows. Your wife and daughter help in the keep, should anything happen to them you take -20 to all rolls for the next 4 turns.
Condition:
"If this is our last day I will make sure we do not go down so easily. The gods watch over us."
1. Stoke the forge and begin to work on something, anything.
+5 Master smith
2. Yell the words of the gods at the top of my lungs, so that all the drunks in the castle may hear. If their will is so easily broken I will have to reforge it.
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6dfd9c No.33488
| Rolled 93, 58 = 151 (2d100) |
>>33463
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Legendary Scimitar, Fey Chain-mail Armour
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 0
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
[Soul Sickness]
12 Ill take what I can get. Man, horse, dire wolf, enchanted armor of the Martyr himself. Or….. >>32268 That hunter touched by magic
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6dfd9c No.33645
>>33463
Name: Sir Crovetius
Age: 74
Speciality: Magus
Rank: [Knight-Sorcerer]
Background: Illegitimate son of knight and peasant woman, skilled but unstable magic user, blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night, old, owl familiar.
———————————————————————————————————-
Grit: 1
Speciality: Knight-Sorcerer
Armaments: Staff of Ealdwyn, Robes, Stella the Owl
Bonus:
[Magical] Access to expanded spell list
[Powerful] When casting roll a D6. On a 6 the spell is supercharged.
[Owl Familiar] You have an owl who guide you. Do not lose this owl
Negative: [Blind] Without Stella you would be best not moving around on your own
[Unstable] When casting roll a D6. On a 1 the spell is erratic.
[Sorcerer Expanded Spell List]
Flare: 2
Magic Bolt: 0
Create Water: 5
Lock: 5
Flame Spray: 4
Root Bind: 3
Cone of Cold: 2
Magic Weapon: 2
Wraith Warrior: 1
Summon Storm: 1
Sunbolt: 1
1/2. This is it. I must perform the banishing ritual, that this evil might be forever purged from this world.
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6dfd9c No.33646
| Rolled 71, 40 = 111 (2d100) |
>>33645
amazing rolls wow
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6dfd9c No.33647
| Rolled 5 (1d6) |
>>33646
Overdrive applicable? I don't really know at this point.
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6dfd9c No.33656
| Rolled 8, 72 = 80 (2d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 +50 Bone Clubs, +[400 Arrows]
Troops: +[65 Darksteel Warriors], +[40 Untrained Swampling fighters] 120 Misc Swamplings, +[??? Sword]
+[Weapons Pile]
1-2. "Bastards still 'ave soldiers in the gatehouse. We cannae fire on them yet.
Get back to training you lot."
Continue to train more sampling fighters
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6dfd9c No.33657
| Rolled 30, 62 = 92 (2d100) |
>>33463
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger,
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Fatepoint:2
Magical ballista bolts:6
In awe of the spear he has found Armian vows that he will honor it properly and show faith to the hero and the god who showed it to him out of the countless people who have been in the gatehouse. While he can not wield it himself he will personally find a knight of the order worth of the spear and die protecting it from the unworthy if need be. For now Armian straps the spear to his back.
1.2. Armian joins the others in a fighting retreat.
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6dfd9c No.34090
>>33469
1. [Moderate Success] As the souls of the the slain rise again to fight you fallback with living defenders as the spectral assault pushes back the dark army.
>>33471
1. [Critical Success] The sound of the Horn shakes the foundation of the gatehouse as the booming sounds resonates to the very soul of your being. From the stones of the gatehouse the spectral forms of Knights from ages past and those slain in the last couple hours. These Spectral Knights fall upon the dark army forcing the creatures back from the remaining Order survivors.
>>33472
1. [Critical Success] You fire the ballista into the horde each time punching through a large amount of darklings, you can feel a cool satisfaction rush through you after each shot.
2. [Critical Success] You spy a rather dapper looking fey in fancy armor with plumes running from his helmet. Aiming your last shot you hit the the feylord straight in the chest as he crumples to the ground.
>>33486
1. [Moderate Success] You begin to light the forge trying to relight the spark that inspired you to create Siegebreaker.
2. [Minor Failure] You bring yourself up to the ramparts but cannot even bring yourself to speak as you gawk at the horde that gathers at the base of the mountain.
>>33488
1. [Critical Success] You find the the northman hunched against a wall his organs splayed out before him as a ghoul munches upon them. You force your soul into the mortal form using your magics to knit the wound together and burn the ghoul. You groggily stand up, the old soul of this body has departed to the afterlife and it is your now.
+Armaments: Fine Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Fine Bastard sword, Splint Armor, Dagger, Poor Shield, Dire Wolf Companion
-[Ancient Vigor] Your immortal ancient body is stronger then any normal human and injuries always are one chart better than indicated.
-[Inhuman] No sane human would ever trust you and you can never command human forces, -30 to all human interactions
>>33645
1. [Moderate Success] Placing the horn in a circle of holy ash you begin to chant the litany of destruction. 1/4
>>33656
1. [Moderate Success] The Swamplings are on edge but are becoming more comfortable with their new armaments. +[40 Darksteel Warriors] -[40 Untrained Swampling Fighters]
>>33657
1. [Moderate Success] Wielding the sword of the Martyr and with his spear slung across his back you join the fighting retreat, though the spectral fighters do the most of it.
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6dfd9c No.34091
>>34090
Day 6 Phase 4
Spectral Host
—
The sound of the horn reverberates deep into the heavens calling back the righteous dead of the Order! Pulling themselves from the stone of the gatehouse all those who have died in the name of the Martyr rise to fight again! The Spectral host falls upon the fey vanguard, their ethereal blades slashing through armour with ease forcing the great host back across the vine bridge. It is however not long before the defenders can seem the forms begin to fade as the holy energy drains away taking the souls back to heaven. This has however given the exhausted fighters time to get back to the castle proper which seems engulfed in a drunken stupor.
Castle Heilger Inventory:
Population
85 Darksteel Warriors
120 Swampling Misc.
13 Knights of the Martyr
12 Order Servants
1 Order Smith
2 Visitors
42 Peasant Hunters
152 Peasant Misc.
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6dfd9c No.34092
| Rolled 94, 67 = 161 (2d100) |
>>34091
Duel:
[????]
+10 Zealous
+10 Veteran
+10 Blessing of the New Gods
+5 Blessing of the Old Gods
Versus
[Wild King]
+25 Primordial Magic
+15 Ruthless
+10 Wild King's Blessing
+20 Wild King
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6dfd9c No.34093
| Rolled 91 (1d100) |
>>34092
[????]
+10 Zealous
+10 Veteran
+10 Blessing of the New Gods
+5 Blessing of the Old Gods
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6dfd9c No.34094
| Rolled 29 (1d100) |
>>34093
[Wild King]
+25 Primordial Magic
+15 Ruthless
+10 Wild King's Blessing
+20 Wild King
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6dfd9c No.34095
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
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6dfd9c No.34105
| Rolled 14, 25 = 39 (2d100) |
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 0 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1. I want a stock taken of the castle, everything we've got. I want weapons of any kind in anyone that can hold them, I want those that cannot hold them well trained to do so, and I want those that can hold them well to show them. This is an order.
+ [ Leader of Men ]
2. As for those who cannot swing a sword, they are to be put to work reinforcing anything in this castle that is not up to par using whatever means they can, we are in the mountains so plenty of loose stone is to be had, gravel as well, and mud.
+ [Leader of Men]
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6dfd9c No.34110
| Rolled 69, 88 = 157 (2d100) |
>>34090
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Flax Clothing,[Shoddy Spear]
Wooden Shield (using)
[Fine Spear] (using)
[Fine Chainmail] (using)
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 5
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -5 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
1. Ah take that you pointy eared little shit! And now I am out of ammo. The ghosts have stopped too. Meaning I am stuck here with an advancing fae army, and everyone else has run. …….fuck me. Ok first of all time to see if I can scavenge a magic weapon from the downed enemies. Not wanting to fight without one, I'd probably die.
2. After scavenging, make my way to the castle as best I can.
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6dfd9c No.34112
| Rolled 43, 81 = 124 (2d100) |
>>34090
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Fine Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Lightning enchanted Fine Bastard sword, Splint Armor, Dagger, Poor Shield, Dire Wolf Companion
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 0
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
{[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.} - In the Gatehouse
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
12 With the spectral host having pushed the fey vanguard back I can take this chance to grab back my Ring from the gatehouse. My near death not so traumatic as to sever the tie with my greatest creation so it will be simple to find. Then I will make my way to the castle "Come Adolf".
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6dfd9c No.34118
| Rolled 3, 42, 78 = 123 (3d100) |
>>34090
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Siegebreaker, Damaged Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
Marius looped Siegebreaker onto his belt and pulled off his helmet, throwing it down as the spectral host wore itself out.
"The forces of darkness still live to hound us yet! And we lack the presence of the Horn to aid us."
Marius gave the muddy ground a wrathful look as he staggered away to get himself a meal…
1. Acquire a Fine Tower Shield from the armory. Something to soak up terrible blows as Marius deals out punishment with his hammer.
+ [Highborn].
2. Barricade the door. Barricade it up tight.
3. Siegebreaker Charge
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6dfd9c No.34119
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6dfd9c No.34333
| Rolled 54, 3 = 57 (2d100) |
>>34090
Posting from phone for this turn.
1&2. All we can do now is pray (pray to the gods)
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6dfd9c No.34353
| Rolled 83, 9 = 92 (2d100) |
[Armian Shatai]
Speciality: Infantry
Armaments: Sword of the Hero [+5 to all combat rolls], Breastplate, Fine Dagger, Spear of the Hero
Bonus: [Master Swordsman] +10 to all longblade rolls
[Advanced Tactician] +5 to all tactics rolls
Negative: [Anti-Social] -10 to all persuasion rolls
[Orphan] -10 to resist the temptations of darkness all movement actions]
Fatepoint:2
The commander is an incompetent moron but for now he is still the commander.
1.2. Assist in training those who need to be trained.
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6dfd9c No.34549
>>34091
Day 7 THE LAST STAND
—
Bran stands on ramparts watching the great horde swarm at the walls like thousands of ants. Hordes of arrows, magic and rocks fly from above killing the few defenders who still stood. The Gate crumpled like sand as a great black shape pushed it's ethereal body through, a thousand darkling warrior following in it's wake. Some defenders died valiantly taking down at least ten times their number while others sold their lives cheaply hoping to quickly escape into the comfort of death. In the end only six men remained standing, a peasant of humble birth but of great courage, a soul clinging to life to halt the advance of darkness, a smith given purpose by the gods to sacrifice everything he held for a glimmer of hope, a knight given new purpose by the holy fire in his hands and lastly the commander who hand held to the bitter end the key of the Martyr's tomb clutched close to his chest.
The great shadowy spectral formed into a form more comprehensible by the mere mortals, the Wild King had come though not in the flesh. The pure perversion of his presence caused the weak of heart to faint, if only there were any of those left. A guttural voice screeches into the few defenders heads.
[Give me the corpse]
One last roll, what will you do, this is your final stand.
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6dfd9c No.34551
>>34549
There also stood one brave chief, standing by men who had once hated and hunted his kind now, they would fight and die as one.
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6dfd9c No.34552
| Rolled 94 (1d100) |
>>34549
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Flax Clothing,[Shoddy Spear]
Wooden Shield (using)
[Fine Spear]
Shining silver spear (using)
[Fine Chainmail] (using)
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 5
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -5 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
We're dead regardless, If I am going to die, I am going to die stabbing him in the face.
-5 untrained
+5 Banner
Spending All 5 grit
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6dfd9c No.34554
| Rolled 29 (1d100) |
>>34549
Urist Von'Uristein was a simple man. A holy man. Wielding his forge hammer and knife Urist charges the specter, shouting a prayer to the gods. The gods will not abide this evil and neither shall he, and his evil soul shall fuel righteous fires!
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6dfd9c No.34555
| Rolled 96 (1d100) |
>>34549
Name: Marius Valjean
Age: 37
Speciality: Heavy Infantry
Rank: Knights of the Martyr
Background: Born as the middle son to a noble family far, far away from the Outer Kingdom, Marius was raised for greatness. The finest tutors, a superb military education, and a proper diet; combined with a life of luxury, Marius grew into a strong, hale man. But his mind was not right: he would grow sullen and joyless for weeks at a time, and failed to truly enjoy much of anything. He was dissatisfied with his lot in life, a cushy noble waiting for some petty war to gain glory.
At the suggestion of a family friend, Marius left to join the Order of the Martyr, putting aside the indignant protestations of his family. At age twenty-four he arrived at the castle. By age thirty he had made a name for himsself as a stalwart and reliable fellow, if someone you didn't want sitting by you at the supper table, for he would suck the joy out of most every conversation.
Grit: 1
Armaments: Siegebreaker, Damaged Fine Lucern Hammer, Fine Longsword, Fine Dagger. Fine Plate Armor, Fine Kite Shield, Banner of the Martyr
Bonus: [Heavy Armor Master] While wearing heavy amor all injuries are one degree less
[Hardy] You recover from exhaustion at half time
[Highborn] You will always be first to receive medical attention and replacements for armor or weapons
[Fearless] +10 to stave off terror
Negative: [Melancholic] Roll a d6 per day. On a 1 you have -10 to all rolls
[Poor Aim] -10 to all long ranged attacks
[Prejudice (Lowbloods] While under the command of a lowblood you suffer -10 as you attempt to compensate for their failings.
Marius held the now-glowing Siegebreaker aloft, letting its light shine, defiantly, against the unnatural abomination before him. He looked to what few comrades he still had left, a hard look on his face beneath the battered, gore-splattered helm.
"I will not go quietly. You will not, either. We die defiant."
With that, he turned to the Wild King, sprinting towards the creature with shield raised as the blazing light from his hammer reached the height of its intensity.
"ARE YOU READY TO DIE? -I- AM!"
1. Kill the Wild King. +5 Banner, +Siegebreaker, + Fearless
Spending the last Grit.
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6dfd9c No.34556
| Rolled 12 (1d100) |
>>34555
Siegebreaker Charge
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6dfd9c No.34557
| Rolled 20 (1d100) |
>>34549
Name: Bran the Bard
Age: 28
Speciality: Commander
Rank: [Knight-Steward]
Background: The Order, once a mighty vestige of the best the Kingdom had to offer, its best and brightest men giving up their lives in the noble goal of the protection of the Entire realm against those who seek its ruin, and against the pure evil of the Wild king and his flock of demons. Now, its more of a ramshackle group of bastards, criminals and whoresons then anything else. Even Bran himself was a bastard, albeit a son of a Noble Lord; but he joined more for some romanticized version of what the order used to be, and as a personal call of honor, then rather escaping a life he lived before or even looking for a place to sleep. In time, the previous commander made him his steward, seeing in the boy the fire and courage necessary to make the decisions that might kill many people, but save the realm as a whole. And so it was he spent 3 winters training under Knight-Steward Harkwood, before he was tragically cut down by some raiders from the Stygian Reaches on a routine patrol. When the time came to select a new leader of the order, Bran was the obvious choice, and mostly because the men couldn't be assed. So know this junior Knight-Steward looks out from the walls of his venerable - if crumbling - keep, and the fires raging in the distance tell him and all of his men one thing. Darkness is coming for them all. Bran stands fast though, and steels in his men's hearts to not go gentle into that cold night, to rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Grit: 0 [See section]
Armaments: Fine Plate Armor, Fine Dagger, Fine Longword, Horn of the Hero [1 use blow at own risk], Key to the Tomb of the Hero, Fine Kite Shield
Bonus: [Leader of Men] +10 to all command rolls
1. No weapon to damage the ghost, no horn to blow, this was a case of a mortal man fighting what accounted for a god on earth. Bran would offer a prayer to the god's for grace and guidance, before he would try to occupy the wild king's attention so that his comrades with magical weapons could put the hurt on the wild king.
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6dfd9c No.34558
| Rolled 62 (1d100) |
Name: Chief "Man Raider"
Age: 37
Speciality: Barbarian
Rank: [Visitor]
Background:
Chief "Man Raider" is the leader of the Swamplings
The Swamplings are savage natives, the original inhabitants of the southern swamps. Cruel, primitive, and aboriginal they grew and multiplied in the swamplands after the defeat of the Wild King. Resorting to a primitive way of life they raided, ransacked, and even engaged in cannibalism to survive. After the fall of the Wild King, the Order of Knights was then tasked to keep these savages south of the border. Bereft of the great iron mines, technology of the north they resorted to weapons and armor of bone, wood, and rock.
The swamp is larger than any man may ever know, and across it the tribes multiplied and grew to untold numbers. Hundreds of thousands too busy trying to eke a living in the unforgiving swamp and killing each other to make so much as a threat.
Then the shamans began to cry in anguish, proclaiming the return of the Wild King. And when the forces of darkness arose, the Wild King began to slaughter any of the Swamplings in his path.
Chief "Man Raider" and his tribe chose to fight. But not to fight and die in the swamps like so many other tribes.
He was willing to bury the ancient grudge against the order. And with the help of Bran the Bard took 200 of his surviving tribe over the border and into the castle. Not just warriors but men, women, even children all armed with spears and knives of bone and wood. Not to take the ancient castle as they have done before, but to fight for their very lives.
Grit: 3 [See section]
-Bonus: [See Grit]
-Negative: [See Grit]
+50 Bone Armor +200 +50 Bone Clubs, +[400 Arrows]
Troops: +[40 Darksteel Warriors] 120 Misc Swamplings, +[??? Sword]
+[Weapons Pile]
—
1. Chief Man raider fires off his last arrow, the last arrow of the last swampling of the last men standing. He lifts up his spear in one hand, and the strange sword in the other.
He thinks about what has happened. He lead his tribe in the hopes of finding a means to survive. When it was clear that wouldn't happen, then he wanted to lead them to take as many down with them as possible. He prayed each had taken thrice than he was. They were all waiting for him in the feasting halls of warriors.
He turns to the men around him, some already ahead and charging. To those still by his side, he simply says this.
"My ancestors are smiling on me Imperial, can you say the same?"
And he goes forth to battle, to slay the nearest thing he can and then the nearest thing after that until he himself was slain.
Maybe he'd take one more.
Maybe he'd take ten.
Or maybe he'd trip on a stone to land face down and be slaughtered.
It didn't matter. His tribe was waiting for him. He'd try to make them wait a little longer.
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6dfd9c No.34559
>>34558
>What the hell is this grit stuff anyway? Imperial hocus. fucking shits, but I'll use them all anyway.
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6dfd9c No.34560
| Rolled 35 (1d100) |
1. Armian fondles the peasant before charging at the wild king
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6dfd9c No.34561
| Rolled 58 (1d100) |
>>34549
[Wild King]
+25 Primordial Magic
+15 Ruthless
+10 Wild King's Blessing
+20 Wild King
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6dfd9c No.34564
| Rolled 68 (1d100) |
>>34549
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Fine Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Lightning enchanted Fine Bastard sword, Splint Armor, Dagger, Poor Shield, Dire Wolf Companion
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 0
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.} - In the Gatehouse
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
"I have the Power." It was always going to end like this and now this story can come to a close. Strike the Wild King from this world.
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6dfd9c No.34568
>>34549
The first to die is the noble commander, a black hand pushing through his chest corrupting his flesh into black rot. The Wild King cackles with glee as the Key burns in his fingers tips. His gloating is cut short as the Chieftain launches forward cutting off the spectral's hand before grabbing the key and throwing it towards the smith as a black spike pierces his chest draining his life energy. Screaming with fury the Smith lashes out as the Wild King pounces on him pulverizing him as it scrambles for the key. A crackle of lightening screams out from the lost soul as the peasant and Knight leap at the Wild King, the fiery hammer smashing into it's leg as the holy sliver spear is rammed into the creatures face.
3 Remain, Marius has the Key
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6dfd9c No.34569
| Rolled 15 (1d100) |
>>34568
[Wild King]
+25 Primordial Magic
+15 Ruthless
+10 Wild King's Blessing
+20 Wild King
-10 Enflamed
-10 Holy Poisoning
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6dfd9c No.34570
| Rolled 69 (1d100) |
>>34568
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Flax Clothing,[Shoddy Spear]
Wooden Shield (using)
[Fine Spear]
Shining silver spear (using)
[Fine Chainmail] (using)
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 5
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -5 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
Pin the spirit down so the Knight may pulp the spirit into oblivion and send it back towards wherever in the hell it came from. Win, lose or draw, live or die, that piece of shit will know pain and fear.
-5 untrained
+5 Banner
Spend any grit remaining
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6dfd9c No.34572
| Rolled 59 (1d100) |
>>34568
>>34569
In the span of seconds, the other defenders fell. Slamming his hammer into the monster's leg, he slips his hand partway out of his shield to grope at the errant key, clenching it tightly in one mailed fist.
Marius keeps his distance, swiping with his hammer at any strikes the Wild King may make– the key cannot fall into the foul creature's hands.
When– if– his two remaining compatriots give him an opening, he dares to move forward and smite the creature upon its head or chest.
+5 Banner
+Siegebreaker
+Fearless
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6dfd9c No.34573
| Rolled 25 (1d100) |
>>34568
Name: Surtin Veek Tori
Age: Ancient
Speciality: Lord Enchanter
Armaments: Fine Longbow, 12 Iron Arrows, Quiver, Lightning enchanted Fine Bastard sword, Splint Armor, Dagger, Poor Shield, Dire Wolf Companion
Rank: [Visitor]
Background: It was the age of knowledge without wisdom and of the flower without the frame. After the beginning of the world In the time of flowering for fey knowledge and power I had created what I would come to understand much later was the antithesis of the spell the Wild King had created. The spell I made was mastery without power and I gave it the shape of a ring that I could carry magic with me. Magic was the height of existence, the center of life with no aspect of the world its equal. When the Wild King took power I could see he did not carry magic without precedent he BECAME magic he BECAME power and with great courage and great foolishness I cast aside my world for this surely ultimate and unrivaled being. Chief among his followers was I by the virtue of dignity as a lord and maintaining my sanity, with my ring; I pulled myself my tools and my perception of the world into the ring without altering my physical presence in the world. If magic sought to exert its will or the will of its master upon me it would find me and mine always out of reach and in the failure of its purpose the magic is free of malignancy and by the ring is cleansed.
Overtime by heinous action and with the defeat of the Wild King by the hero I came to understand that I had in the past seen magic as worthy of usurping life and that this was inherently wrong, magic without bounds was unnatural it was all power and no mastery. He had seemingly having achieved a magic being beyond the coil of life but was unable to free others because he had never unchained himself. After his defeat I walked the world in search of fey that could be saved and places that could be purified as the last of the Seelie on a path of redemption. With the return of the Wild King the Kingdom and the world in danger I arrive at Castle Heliger to find redemption or die trying.
Grit: 0
Bonus:[Last of the Seelie] You are imbued with the primal forces of magic and can cast spells
[The Ring] You carry “The Ring” an artifact of power which can cleanse items corrupted by the Wild King’s powers.} - In the Gatehouse
[Mastery in Virtue] +5 to all rolls
Negative: [Last of the Seelie] You are targeted by all members of the Wild King’s army as whoever kills the traitor is sure to get a great boon.
[Or Die Trying] You have a death wish when entering combat roll 1d6, on a 1 you cannot retreat
His flesh could be broken, his essence was seeping. Call down the Thundergod's fury.
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6dfd9c No.34574
>>34568
Rushing forward the Peasant rams the holy silver spear through the gut of the creature pinning it in place as the Knight moves forward smashing the flaming hammer into the spectre's head. It struggles on the ground leaking great streams of pure mana obliterating any in the area long with the Lost Soul.
2 Remain, Marius has the Key
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6dfd9c No.34575
| Rolled 44 (1d100) |
>>34574
Name: Eddard of Smyil
Age: 37
Speciality: Cannon Fodder
Rank: Peasant
Armaments: Rusty Shortsword, Shoddy Pitchfork, Flax Clothing,[Shoddy Spear]
Wooden Shield (using)
[Fine Spear]
Shining silver spear (using)
[Fine Chainmail] (using)
Background: Eddard is a peasant who fled here from the advance of the Wild King's armies. He was a farmer, a simple man with a simple life. his wife had died of the plague two years back and his sons had gone to the cities a few years before that. So when he heard about the attacks he left for the nearst safe area, the Keep of the Order of the Martyr, surely those noble knights would keep people safe? Turns out not, now they're pressing him into service because of how few they are, and by the gods that is a lot of darklings.
Grit: 5
-Bonus: None
-Negative: [Fearful] -10 to all fear checks
[Untrained] -5 to all combat rolls
[Disillusioned] -5 when taking orders from Knights
Keep stabbing the spirit. It's hurt BADLY, it's trying it's hardest to get rid of us. We can kill it, we MUST kill it.
-5 untrained
+5 Banner
Spend any grit remaining
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6dfd9c No.34576
| Rolled 35 (1d100) |
>>34574
It was only when fighting for his life that Marius felt alive. His face beneath his helm was an expression of hardened tranquility tempered with defiance. In every swing of his hammer and spring of his feet there was nothing but absolute conviction.
He would die here, but not before putting fear into the heart of the Wild King, and keeping him from his victory as long as possible.
Strike at the spirit, avoid the streams of raw mana that seemed to disintegrate the dirt and stone and flesh and bone, and don't let him get his filthy, otherworldly hands on that key.
+5 Banner
+Siegebreaker
+Fearless
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6dfd9c No.34577
| Rolled 25 (1d100) |
>>34574
>[Wild King]
[Wild King]
+25 Primordial Magic
+15 Ruthless
+10 Wild King's Blessing
+20 Wild King
-10 Enflamed
-10 Holy Poisoning
-20 Headless
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6dfd9c No.34578
| Rolled 1 (1d100) |
Siegebreaker Charge Roll
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6dfd9c No.34579
>>34578
>>34576
Marius narrowed his eyes as the hammer's light died and it came down without so much as rippling the King's form. He managed one contemptuous word before death closed in.
"Figures."
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6dfd9c No.34580
>>34574
The Knight leaps forward hammer in hand to finish the eldritch spirit, however it catches the hammer in one hand crushing the holy hammer into dust before eviscerating the wielder.
A lone peasant stand before the Wild King and victory. the Key is on the ground.
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6dfd9c No.34581
| Rolled 80 (1d100) |
Rush forward, towards the key, step on it and thrust my spear into whatever passes for the wild king's heart. "Gods, Hero is any of your can help me, grant me the strength to end this beast's rampage."
-5 untrained
+5 Banner
Spend any grit remaining
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6dfd9c No.34582
| Rolled 20 (1d100) |
>>34581
[Wild King]
+25 Primordial Magic
+15 Ruthless
+10 Wild King's Blessing
+20 Wild King
-10 Enflamed
-10 Holy Poisoning
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6dfd9c No.34583
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6dfd9c No.34584
| Rolled 81, 17, 23, 3, 20 = 144 (5d100) |
>>34580
The Peasent charges forward, summong the last of his grit and the tiny speck of hope left in his heart ramming the spear deep into the Heart of all Evil. His very soul screams as torrents of pure evil blast into him and a hellish screech bursts his eardrums. Blood leaks from his nose as the pressure grows every second, his whole body screams for him to stop. Can he finish it?
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6dfd9c No.34585
| Rolled 70 (1d100) |
>>34584
I will not stop, I will not relent. Go back to whence you came monster and trouble us no MORE!
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6dfd9c No.34586
>>34585
By the Gods, the souls of the fallen are at your side, every single one lending you their power and hope!
ALL SLAIN PLAYERS ROLL 1d100!
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6dfd9c No.34587
| Rolled 92 (1d100) |
>>34586
"The Power is with you young man."
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6dfd9c No.34588
| Rolled 67 (1d100) |
>>34586
The Commander stabs at the heart of darkness from the ethereal realm, the spirit of the hero guiding his sword ever onward.
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6dfd9c No.34589
| Rolled 2 (1d100) |
>>34586
Marius' wrathful specter, still torn from waist to throat, screams out from the void to pour his willpower and strength into the lowblooded hero.
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6dfd9c No.34590
>>34589
I guess all marius is really doing is just screaming
really loud
and angrily
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6dfd9c No.34594
| Rolled 82 (1d100) |
The Tribal Chief awakes, now much less like he was in life and more as he was in spirit. Decked in the embroidery of the tribe, he is confused at first. This was the battlefield of the afterlife, but his tribe was not with him.
Instead, what grabbed his attention was the beating thing before him. Somehow, he knew it was the ghostly heart of the Wild King. In life, he could not eat a ghost.
But here?
"It is flesh. . .I SHALL EAT IT!"
His first battle in the afterlife and his first warriors feast lay before him, he leaped forward to hack off a bite.
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6dfd9c No.34595
| Rolled 11 (1d100) |
ROLLING FOR RANDOMPERSON
[The smith, presumably, pauses in his heavenly ascension to see his family in order to smite at the Heart of Darkness with all the fury of the gods]
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6dfd9c No.34596
| Rolled 86 (1d100) |
FOR TANSEN
No doubt fondling the serf in his ghostly form
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6dfd9c No.34597
>>34584
A New Dawn
—–
Eddard could feel them all with him, each doing their part to help him drive the spear deeper and deeper into the darkness, each screaming prayers and warcrys, channeling every thing they had to help him win. Finally the pressure gave and his sight would collapse into a darkness, a warm feeling spreading across his body.
He would awaken in the ruins of the Keep, or what he could only assume was the ruins of it. the entire mountaintop was levelled in the battle pieces of rubble and corpses littering the ground. In the distance he could see the dark horde fleeing back east, for without a head what could a snake do. The warmth of the rising sun washed across his face as he threw the spear, now crackling with dark energy, across his shoulder cracking a smile like he had not done in a long time. He never thought we would have been the one to survive this whole mess…..
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6dfd9c No.34598
In the Hall of Heroes, where dwelt the blessed and couragous under the benevolence of the gods, the first heathen stepped foot in.
Not a knight, or a crusader, but a savage swampling dripping in blood and mud. He went to his place in the grand hall, in his chair, and stood before it.
He raised his spear high, and brought it down impaling it upon the chair. There it sits to this day, a reminder of the first heathen to have stepped in the halls, and that he was here.
—
In a different place among the realm of spirits, a great multitude of bloody warriors stood below grand pyramids in an otherworldly jungle, all eyes drawn to the sacrificial temple. There on the steps of the crimson stained pyramid stood the warriors of the Man-Raider tribe, above all others, the last swamplings in life and so the first swamplings in death. They had survived the longest, and fought and killed more than the others.
And atop the pyramid a Chieftan stood, as the multitude shouted with a mighty roar that shook the ground. In his left hand, a strange blade still dripping crimson shimmered in an ethereal sun, the blade that had bitten into the hand and heart of evil. In his right hand, the still beating King's flesh pouring forth red, and a bite taken out of it. Man Raider stood, his jaws and chest dripping with blood.
The swamplings now dwelt in the spirit world, all their flesh had been devoured and free'd of the mortal coil. Now there would be eternal battles for the warriors, endless demons to kill and feast upon. They would be lead by a Chieftan who had fought and tasted of the heart of evil.
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6dfd9c No.34599
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9A3aH2toqs
Marius strode into the Hall, a placid look on his face. Here, there were no fits of darkness. There was no hollowness in the world. There was only victory, there was only satisfaction.
He passed by his compatriots, passed by his forefathers. He simply went to the highest chair, where there sat the Last Hero, and he fell to his knees before him, a thin red scar showing under the collar of his white shirt. He spread his arms–
Rather. He spread his -arm-, for now, he had only one. And he asked of the Last Hero:
"I am scarcely worthy to dine with you, much less to speak. But I ask of you… where has my arm gone?"
—
In the world of the living, the pale light of the new sun washed over the corpses of the noble souls of the Order.
It washed over Marius' corpse, too, and those dead blue eyes, glinting with darkness and intelligence, followed it on its advance through the sky, as it marched its own purposeful path down the mountain.
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6dfd9c No.34600
>>34597
Bran walked into the hall of heroes, not expecting cheers or thanks, or anything of the sort. He was a commander, and though he fought with his men, and it was by his orders and dogged determination not to give an inch to the Wild King that the day was won, he expected no thank you. Rather the taste of victory lie in the mouths of his noble and loyal soldiers; those brave men
Marius, the Hammerer, who's divine mallet smashed the Wild King's head like a grape.
Man Raider, a savage whom Bran had come to regard as a friend, and a equal. He was glad to see the man here in the hall of heroes, for he bleed as much as any of them for the good fight.
Surtin the Fae-Lord, who gave his very own mortal body and immortal soul to stop the Wild King
And last but most certainly not least was Young Armian, the champion of the Order.
Bran looked upon his men, nay, his brothers, and for the first time since the dark winds of war blew over Castle Heilger, he felt at peace. They had done it, they had won for now, and maybe even forever.
So when he walked into the Gilded Hall of heroes, Bran did not stride in as a victor, nor did he timidly enter the hall as a coward.
Bran did what he wanted to do since that damned siege started, and what he dreamt of as the Wild King turned his flesh to rot. He sat down at the table where a mighty pig was being roasted, and fresh ale lay in mugs made from the horns of Unicorns (Bran chuckled upon seeing this, for it seems the gods do have some sense of humor after all) and he took a strip of pork and a keg of ale and he drank and ate until he finally could do so no more.
And with a solemn nod to the Last Hero, he passed out. Not sleeping for 7 days and then dying horrifically really takes the life out of you.
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6dfd9c No.34601
>>34586
I know this is late, but do I count as slain if I dropped the game at the last minute due to technical constraints? :3c
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6dfd9c No.34630
>>34601
Sure, not that it really matters at this point….
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6dfd9c No.34644
>>34630
Thanks. That's good enough for me. Just wanted to know if he was living or dead.
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6dfd9c No.34645
>>34644
New computer when?
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6dfd9c No.34646
>>34644
POST YOUR BATTLE ROLL IN JIDAI
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6dfd9c No.34650
>>34645
Soon. It's in the mail.
>>34646
K fam.
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6dfd9c No.34717
>>34580
>peasant kills wild king
This amuses me to no end.
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