"And my property!"

Raising a hand Bilfro makes an effort to be noted.

"For without it I am ashamed to admit I am of little use to anyone, unlike my dear companion here, Death Unseen, as his nickname is."

He holds up the other hand and displays once more the tiny tortoise.  In response to this re-introduction the little tortoise proudly stretches its neck as it strikes a potentially heroic pose, as far as tortoises go.  Or mayhap it is merely looking around.

"But wood, that I can gather!" says Bilfro proudly and sets out to do so.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:20, Tue 26 Feb 2013.

Planning.

Aarnr shudders.  Nothing good ever came of such foulness.  And like as not it'll all go wrong.  Even the damn minstrel is eyeing him funny.

The priest shrugs. "I'll open the froggin' door then. Quietly." that last looks like it burned his tongue on it's way past his lips.  Though with any luck there'll be a few more ogres in the lower chamber of the tower ...

Bilfro heads off to gather some wood.  It turns out to be fairly easy, as there is broken furniture scattered all around.  Meanwhile the others, even Aarnr, are concocting a plan.  It is during this discussion that Erista notices marks in the muddy earth in front of the lower entrance to the tower.  The door has been opened, and recently.

Corian smiles happily.  "If the lower door can be opened, then it would be much quieter, and easier than breaking through the other one."

Colwyn's ears prick up at that.  "Unless'n it's bein' locked.  Which case. I's the man ter be openin' it." he adds, patting at the pouch hanging at his belt.

"We may even be able to take the ogre by surprise.  Though I should warn everybody that I do not have the strength to use much more magic today.  My contribution to any battle will likely be in the form of well-place crossbow bolts."

And Bilfro staggers back, his scrawny arms cradling a sizeable quantity of flammable material...

Colwyn looks about, grinning, "Right then...  If every bugger's bein' ready, I's ready ter open the blöödy door, an' we can be seein' if it'll be right fer startin' a fire in there."

He steps closer to the door and looks at the lock, before letting out a low groan.  "Bleedin' lock's bein' broke, innit."  He seems shocked, though, if the truth be told, he probably should have expected it - the ogre had to get into the tower somehow.

The rogue grips the edge of the door and pulls, dragging it open with a scraping sound as the bottom edge of it drags across the ground.  The stench which exudes from the opening almost causes the rogue to gag.  Inside there is inky blackness, and a guttural voice snarling...

[Language unknown: "Rat?  Ersestpre thiearset?"]

There is the sound of movement in the darkened chamber...

OOC: Initiative checks please, and an attack roll from aarnr, because I know he's going to charge in there...  :)

Leaning over Colwyn's shoulder, Aarnr all but shoulders the rogue out of the way in his eagerness to bring sudden death down upon whatever creature lurks within, be it spider, ogre or toad-kissin', fen-sucked demon lord !

Bellowing his intentions in an incomprehensible but loud and spittle-flecking litany of challenge, threat and insult, the priest bounds towards the opening ...

OOC:

14:18, Today: Aarnr Foultongue rolled 15 using 1d20+2. Initiative ?  What's that ?
14:19, Today: Aarnr Foultongue rolled 22 using 1d20+4. Premptive Strike.
14:21, Today: Aarnr Foultongue rolled 11 using 2d6+4. Wot's the Damage ?]
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 18:13, Sun 03 Mar 2013.

Colwyn hurls himself aside, with some assistance from Aarnr, and lands sprawled on his belly on the muddy ground...

Corian, meanwhile, casts about on that same ground, and snatches up a jagged fragment of stone.  Holding it in his open left hand, he gestures over it with his right, while hurriedly pronouncing what is either the words of a spell, or a sign that he's drunk too much wine when nobody was watching.

"Bydded goleuni.  Gadewch i'r tywyllwch cael eu halltudio."

The prone rogue starts to scramble to his feet, yelling a warning, and his own words are fortunately much clearer than those of the apprentice mage.  "'ware!  Orcs!"

Orcs?  MORE orcs?  "Oh dear," Eilieen whispers.  Things are spiralling out of control - the ogre will surely be awakened, and trundle down to 'greet' his visitors, already weakened by battle against his guards.

Corian begins to cast a spell, but Eilieen has no idea what it might be.  She can guess, of course, given the darkness within the open portal, but she can't be sure, and...whoops, there goes Aarnr.  Of course.

No time to plan, no time to work out who casts what.  Grimacing, Eilieen passes her hand over the tip of her spear.  "Zadastha, give your people a glimpse of the brilliance of your heart," she whispers.  A sprinkling of glittering dust seems to fall from her fingers, coating the spearpoint, then the weapon's tip begins to burn, a warm light radiating forth from the steel.

That finished she strides into the room in pursuit of their apoplectic priest.

OOC - Casting Light on my speartip and moving after Aarnr.
Initiative: Hooray, a 3....

Erista bravely readies another rock, setting it into her sling and getting ready to throw it once she can see something.

At Colwyn's instruction, Fergus stands ready.  He's not on his guard, though.  Surely nothing could stand to share the same tower with an ogre?

Unfortunately, Fergus' assumption is wrong, as Colwyn is challenged by something within the tower, which is in turn challenged by the belligerent Aarnr.

Fergus is rather slower to react, though he hurries as best he can, particularly after Colwyn announces the presence of more orcs.

OOC: Initiative 7

Ozzy hand pulls the javelin from his pack before he even knows he has a grip on it. Shivering all over - probably from damp clothes, certainly not the fear of being an appetizer at the next Ogre dinner - the tip of the weapon quivers in the dim starlight. He's up, he's ready, ...he just doesn't find himself willing to stand nose to groin with an Ogre right now. So he watches, wondering how it will all play out so that he might write down later.

20:56, Today: Oswald Osbourne rolled 20 using 1d20+7. Initiative.

"I say, mind you language!"

It is utterly unclear who the scrawny man refers to as he desperately starts to browse through the firewood he gathered.  Perhaps he misplaced his sanity in there somewhere.

"My gear, my gear!"

So far has seems to have little to no luck finding it amongst the pieces of wood he has gathered.


OOC:
Initiative: 21
Staying and/or moving back

Bilfro drops his burden and starts looking for a weapon.  As look would have it, there is one amongst the wood that he has collected - a broken length of wood which has the rusted remains of a spear head still attached to it.  The point itself is long gone, but the steel socket is still fixed to one end, while the other end  of the shaft is a mass of splinters... 

Ozzy and Aramil draw their weapons in unison. one a javelin, the other his shortsword, which gleams surprisingly brightly in the dim light.  Neither of them, it seems are prepared to follow Aarnr as he plunges into the darkened room at the base of the tower.

In the confined space, the stench is terrible, but the orcs will just have to put up with it...  There is just enough light for Aarnr to see dark, moving shapes around him, seeming to rise up from the floor.  His blade lashes out, and one of the shapes goes back down, followed a moment later by a second. 

Erista, like Ozzy and Aramil, wisely decides to give Aarnr room to work in the tower.  The halfling  prepares her sling and waits for the priest to drive the enemies out to her. 

Cupped in Corian's palm, the stone starts to glow palely.  The mage picks it up with his right hand, and hurls it towards the door.  Only to see it strike the frame and land in the mud whence it came.  It lays there, glowing and pretty.  Pretty useless...

The orcs, numberless in the Stygian darkness, close in on Aarnr, and seem to be able to see him clearly.  The priest feels the bite of steel along his ribs, even through his mail... 

Fergus arrives outside the door, a little more cautious than Aarnr, and uses his toe to flip the glowing stone into the darkness to reveal the carnage within...

To one side of the doorway, Colwyn gets to his feet and draws his own blade.  He makes no move to enter though, choosing instead to stand alongside the door, ready to strike should an orc step out...

And Eilieen, clearly encouraged by her success with the spider, goes past both Fergus and Colwyn and steps into the room, her glowing spear adding more light to the scene.  She sees a half dozen orcs, and two more dead on the dirty bedding which covers the floor.  Aarnr is swinging his heavy blade to keep the creatures back for the moment.  The priest of Bowbe is covered with blood.  Some of it might not be his, judging by the state of the dead bodies...

OOC: Action and adventure and really wild things.  :)

Combatant         Init
Bilfro Gabbins            21
Oswald Osbourne           20
Aramil                    20
Aarnr Foultongue          15
Erista                    10
Corian Barade              9
Orcs                       7  AC=14
Fergus Andarson            7
Colwyn Akbar               6
Eilieen                    3



Characters' Apparent Health
Aarnr Foultongue: Severe
Aramil:           Good
Bilfro Gabbins:   Good
Colwyn Akbar:     Good
Corian Barade:    Good
Eilieen:          Good
Erista:           Good
Fergus Andarson:  Hurt
Oswald Osbourne:  Good

It seems the two performers have become one as they both prepare for the coming onslaught and then give the greatest weapon at the groups disposal room to swing. Sensing some of the others reluctance to again take to the fight, the half-elf hums quielty to himself for a moment and then starts to frame a story of a great fight and then tells the ode to the group.

OOC:inspire courage

When it comes to dealing out sheer mayhem, Erista has nothing on Aarnr.  Nevertheless, as light moves into the tower, she sends a stone whizzing in to ping quite solidly off an orc's forehead.

It'd been a long day and Aarnr was quite prepared to go easy on the orcs ... indeed the turbulent priest had even been considering letting them flee if they chose, so keen was he to get at the ogre above.  But once the froggin' curs have the temerity to fight back, and spurred on by Aramil's rousing battle-chant, Aarnr abandons any pretence of civilised behaviour and lays about him with little regard for life or limb, least of all his own !

If his battle cry was incomprehensible before, now it sounds like a wounded owl-bear has suddenly joined the party going on in the lower tower ...

"By the power of Greybeard!  I have the power!!"

Triumphantly raising the no doubt once-proud spear Bilfro strikes a pose before peering towards the door, slightly less eagerly.

"All dead?" ask he of no one, voice hopefully yet doubtful, all whilst craning his neck and wringing his quarterstaff, or perhaps more accurately dubbed, his fifthstaff or maybe even two-seventh-staff or...

...whatever.

Either way, he does not yet move from his post of observation, indubitably carefully considering any number of opportune tactics and manoeuvres.

Oh dear.

Once again, Aarnr's headstrong nature has brought him into grave danger.  But Eilieen doesn't have time to sigh and roll her eyes now.  Gritting her teeth (possibly against a series of invectives), she charges forward to assist, leading with the glowing tip of her spear.

It's possible some of her brief weapon training comes back to her, or maybe it's luck; either way, her spear strikes true, lancing deeply into one of the foul beasts attacking Aarnr, the bright glow dimming briefly before she wrenches the tip free.

Has the light taken on a crimson sheen?

OOC -

Attack roll: 21!
Damage roll: 6 + 2 = 8!

Pressed up against the side of the door, Colwyn hears the sounds of combat inside the tower, and the colour drains from his face (though with the mud, and the fading light, it's not so easy to tell).  The yells, the crunches, the thuds, the screeches of agony, the indescribable squelches... all play on his imagination and paint the scene inside in lurid colour and horrific detail.

He looks to his companions, those still in the courtyard, and yells, "The bloody orcs's killin' them!"

Then, bolstering his courage and steeling his nerve, he steps around the doorjamb to lend assistance to his beleaguered companions, sword raised to strike.  He is entirely ready to sell his life dearly (or just flee in shame) if that is what it takes...

Ozzy holds tightly to his javelin. The sounds of combat terrify him however; so much noise, pain and suffering his imagination cannot help from calling up his worst nightmares from the depths of his mind. He holds his place in the courtyard, ready to bring down anything that tumbles out of the tower - except of course, our profane barbarian.

Fergus steps forwards to support Aarnr.  The battle-crazed priest has already taken a heavy toll on the orcs, though at the cost of his own self-preservation, neither of which particularly surprises Fergus.

Fergus swings his scythe, in the hope that a solid blow or two will quickly finish the fight, but his limited combat experience comes to the fore and, in the end, he's lucky not to hit his friends.

OOC: Rolled a 2...

The battle continues in the foetid orc nest...

While Bilfro and Ozzy await the opportunity to act without stepping into a confined space filled with a berserker priest of Bowbe, Aramil starts to recite an epic rhyme of bravery and valour, aimed at encouraging his companions to feats of great martial prowess...

the sudden influx of extra light inside the chamber does nothing to hinder Aarnr,  The barbarian priest uses his massive blade to good effect, and two more orcs fall in a welter of gore and blood.  They do not get up again, though one still twitches feebly.

A third orc goes down, blood welling up around the sudden indentation in its forehead produced by Erista' sling stone.  Eyes open, but glazed, it struggles to rise, but seems unsure exactly which way is up.

Back outside the tower, Corian readies his crossbow and prepares to join the battle...

Fergus does enter the fray.  His scythe swings at one of the orcs, but the beastial creature's face cracks into a wicked smile as its own weapon, a large axe, lifts to deflect the blow, and send it sliding towards Colwyn, who ducks frantically.  The orc, meanwhile, follows through with his own attack, and the axe slams into the unbalanced farmer's side, spilling yet more blood onto the already stained floor. 

Another orc swings its own axe at Eilieen, sneering as the blade bites into the priestess' unarmoured hip, spilling much blood down her sorely mistreated robe and eliciting a cry of pain from the young woman, as she staggers backward.  The orc starts to follow, intent on finishing the battle. 

Eilieen's cry is answered by a bellowing roar from above... a sound which seems to shake the very walls of the tower, and even echoes across the courtyard beyond, scaring sleeping birds from their roosts in the forest.  Inside the confined space, it is deafening...

The third, and last, of the remaining orcs decides to try its luck with Aarnr.  The big barbarian, for all his disdain for safety is not quite insane enough to let the blow land.  The priest of Bowbe steps aside, and the orc's weapon, a greatsword to match Aarnr's own, smashes down onto the filthy bedding which covers much of the floor...

Colwyn reacts to the awful sound from above by switching from pure fear, to sheer mind-blasting terror.  The neares orc is the one attacking Fergus, and that battle has now carried the creature between the rogue and the exit, leaving the man with only one way out.  He thrusts with his shortsword, aiming for the creatures kidneys... or heart... or spleen... or... something (he's a rogue, not a chirurgeon, and he can't remember all that stuff).  No one is more shocked than Colwyn when the orc grunts and collapses in a heap, like a marionette whose giblets have been cut...

Nearby, Eilieen pushes away from the wall and meets her attacker half way.  Or rather her spear does, sinking into the throat of her foe, and lending a dark red tint to the light from her spear.  The creature drops, gurgling out the last of its life... 

OOC: One orc left, and the ogre just woke up.  His name is Smasho M^cSmash, and he hates Mondays.  :)  People are getting hurt, I notice.  I have to wonder why you still insist on following Aarnr about?  His "tactics" are more of a danger than the monsters.  :)

Combatant         Init
Bilfro Gabbins            21
Oswald Osbourne           20
Aramil                    20
Aarnr Foultongue          15
Erista                    10
Corian Barade              9
Orcs                       7  AC=14
Fergus Andarson            7
Ogre                       6
Colwyn Akbar               6
Eilieen                    3



Characters' Apparent Health
Aarnr Foultongue: Severe
Aramil:           Good
Bilfro Gabbins:   Good
Colwyn Akbar:     Good
Corian Barade:    Good
Eilieen:          Critical
Erista:           Good
Fergus Andarson:  Critical
Oswald Osbourne:  Good

Oh.

Oh, that...that...

Some part of Eilieen's mind quietly reminds her that this, this is why she chose Zadastha, or perhaps was chosen by the deity.  Ignore the sniggering rumors (and truths) about their gatherings and habits, things Eilieen has always eschewed; wounds are terrible things to be cleansed with the goddess' loving touch.  And now, she herself has fallen victim to the bite of steel, and virtually none of the goddess' power remains to her.

The wound is terrible, the pain worse.

Her gray vision skates across a trapdoor in the floor; blinking, she takes stock of it for a moment before the glow of her spear shines across the blood spattering to the floor between Fergus' feet.  For a long moment she stares, her wound consuming her thoughts, before her mind focuses.  The farmer is besieged.  Above, the ogre bellows its displeasure, but that remains an issue for another time.  All Eilieen can focus upon is the injury to her friend.

"No."  It's a gaspy breath from between her lips, nothing more, then Eilieen staggers forward, reaching out not with her spear, but with her hand.  Faithful to her cause until the end.  "Zadastha," she pleads, with nothing left for poetic entreaties.  And a dim, flickering glow takes form at the tips of her fingers.

OOC - Dropping 'Detect Magic' for Cure Minor Wounds on the injured Fergus.

"Great Scotty!"

Bilfro announces his flabbergasted state at the subtle indication of someone waking up on the wrong side of the bed and finding the whole day in quite a livid disagreement with their very existence.

"Most consternation kerfuffle ballyhoo of unimagined magnitudes escalates unhindered!" he kindly explains and waves his on the spur of the moment rather not very sizeable stick about in a most animated fashion.

He then in a most impressively resolute manner begins to run in a small circle, flapping his arms about.

Even in the throes of his battle-rage, though the bloody haze of the red mist that clouds his vision and his mind, Aarnr is aware that his friends have been hurt by these toad-kissin' hedge-pigs.

With a roar worthy of an entire party of owl-bears, the priest spits his defiance (quite literally; wouldn't stand too close) in the ugly face of the remaining and luckless orc, then has at the creature with his mighty blade, with a blow that could almost be likened to the flowing movement of a skilled dancer, should the art of dance be so brutal and bloody.

Erista actually darts up and in, but presuming that Aarnr can probably handle just one orc by himself, she decides to prepare for the Ogre instead.

She does this, of course, by disappearing.  Because really, what other sensible precaution can a Halfling take to prepare for an Ogre?