While Aramil still sings, and Bilfro, Ozzy and Corian prepare to fight, inside the tower Aarnr takes the battle to the enemy...

The priest's battle blade strikes again, and the remaining orc is cloven from shoulder to gut.  The light fades from its eyes before it even starts to fall, but by then Aarnr is searching for another target...

Erista avoids the man as she enters the structure and quickly positions herself beneath the stairs which run down the wall to the right of the entrance.  A heartbeat after she gets there she hears the sound of the ogre starting to descend the staircase, grumbling angrily as it does so... 

Taking advantage of the sudden lack of orcs, Colwyn dashes out of the door and screams at those in the courtyard, "The ogre's bein' awake!"  It doesn't occur to him that his warning might be unnecessary...

And Eilieen takes the brief pause in the conflict to go across to Fergus and use what small portion of Zadastha's blessing remains to her to aid the man. 

The ogre, part way down the stairs, stoops, and peers into the room below, sniffing the air.  Its face breaks into a smile, filled with malice and the desire to kill...  [Language unknown: "U!  Koroerare nodin?"]

OOC: No orcs left, but the ogre is moving about... obviously.  :)

Combatant         Init
Bilfro Gabbins            21
Oswald Osbourne           20
Aramil                    20
Aarnr Foultongue          15
Erista                    10
Corian Barade              9
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

This message was last edited by the GM at 10:53, Wed 13 Mar 2013.

"Aarnr," Eilieen gasps plaintively, hoping to head off the hirsute holy man's incipant incursion into the ornery ogre's offal* lair.  "Fergus needs assistance..." she cries, then takes in a deep breath.  The pain hits - hard - and she uses it, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her fists.  "...NOW!" the tiny priestess shrieks in the same sort of tone that has pushed high priests into a headlong, utterly confused flight from her bedroom.

She's utterly worthless in the upcoming battle - a glancing blow from the ogre will drop her in her tracks - but there is one thing she can accomplish: buy time.  Jaw set, Eilieen takes up the spear in her hands and readies herself to throw.

* Artistic license...sue me.  ^_^

OOC - Eilieen holds her actions and readies her spear to throw.  If the ogre sticks its face into view, she'll attempt to perforate it.

She really doesn't have much else to offer at the moment.

Standing outside the half-elf is almost unaware of hie surroundings, so Colwyn running out and shouting that the ogre is awake is actually useful. Still chanting his ode, Aramil notes the voices inside, but only clearly hears Eileen's "now". Unused to such a forceful use of her voice Aramil takes out his sword and ducks his head inside the doorframe. Seeing how all inside are injured, well those he can see, the half-elf makes an unusual choice. Calling on his nerve he moves inside to stand by the very injured Eileen and Fergus and prepares to deflect any attempts at removing either from this world. Still quite shocked at his grief from the loss of the monk, Aramil is not prepared to loose any more companions at this stage.

Fergus cries out as the orc's axe bites into his side.  His eyes lose focus and he stumbles for a moment as pain and shock kick in.  By the time he has recovered sufficiently to steady himself, Aarnr has already dispatched the offending orc.  Glancing down he can see that his armour is split and the tunic beneath is already soaked and matted in blood.

Fergus is no healer but he knows deep down he can't take too much more.  With the knowledge of his own mortality the fear, always creeping around the edges in these situations, comes to the fore.  Fear that he might die, yes, but also fear for his friends.  With that thought, Fergus' control starts to slip.  As ever, Andar's voice comes back to him, Fergus, you don't know your own strength - Fergus, stop, or you'll hurt someone - You're in so much trouble young man.  This time, Fergus answers I know, Da.  I can't get in much worse trouble.  But I do know my strength and by golly I am gonna hurt someone.

As the ogre starts to come down the stairs, Fergus moves to intercept it.  As he walks past Eilieen, he pushes her firmly back.  He doesn't mean to do it roughly but he wants her safely behind him and he doesn't have time to explain.

"Come 'ere, ugly, an' I'll teach you to fear the reaper."  Fergus winds up, preparing for a blow that is intended to stop the ogre dead, literally, in its tracks.

Ozzy paces one way as Bilfro goes the other, changing direction as the shouts and cries of battle within the tower amplify and echo into the courtyard. Finally, curiousity outweighs his need for personal safety and he marches to the doorway with javelin in hand, pausing at the threshold to get a better view of the carnage within. Fergus brings an old song to mind, but he holds his voice. He didn't want to come off as discordant with the lyrical tones of Aramils own battle ballad.

With an ogre on the move, Colwyn is very sure of one thing: he doesn't want to get anywhere near the stinking brute.  Not that the smell is his major concern...

He wipes the orc blood off his blade, leaving his sleeve bloody instead, and sheaths the weapon as he moves towards Corian.  Another thing he's sure of is that a mage won't be putting himself in danger of being flattened, so if he sticks close to Corian, he should be safe.  Safer, at least.

As he approaches the man, he unslings his own crossbow and starts loading it.

"'ello Corian, matey.  I reckons as 'ow I'll be givin' yer some protection, since yer's not 'avin' no magic left."

"Ah!"

Bilfro's circle grows upon hearing Colwyn and he ends up behind both him and Corian.

"Oh?"

He shows his stick to them as if making an point of some sort and proving it thus.

"Eh."

He hunkers down and readies his mighty weapon for a mighty blow should the mighty ogre dare came close enough for his short stick to poke it.

"Ha!"
This message was lightly edited by the player at 06:37, Sat 16 Mar 2013.

Eilieen's plaintive and loud demands do in fact penetrate the battle-haze that grips Aarnr ... but the priest knows full well in some tiny portion of his brain that the only way Fergus will survive the battle is for the Ogre to be swiftly slain.

The priestess of Zadastha does, however succeed in distracting¹ the crazed warrior, for though the roaring charge towards the foe is as impressive as ever, the sword stroke that follows it passes far wide of its intended victim.


¹ Well, it's got to be somebody else's fault ! ;>

The ogre roars and starts down the stairs, walking awkwardly as it tries to fit its huge feet onto the narrow steps.  Beneath the stairs, Erista is showered with dust, grit, and dislodged insects...

Ozzy hurries forward and risks a quick look around the doorframe.  There is a lot of blood visible in the magical illumination that fills the room, and a fair bit of it seems to belong to the halfling's friends.

Aramil goes even further, stepping into the room to help Fergus and Eilieen, should they need it.  The half-elf stands with them, blade in hand.

Foaming at the mouth, and yelling almost as loudly as the ogre, Aarnr rushes at the monstrosity and hacks at its legs as it descends.  The angle is wrong though, and his blade is deflected as it strikes the edge of a step and fails to hamstring the creature.

Erista lurks, still, beneath the steps, as the ogre's ponderous footsteps thud on the stone above her head...

Corian raises his crossbow and prepares to send a quarrel in through the door, he aims high, and only intends to shoot when he sees the monster.  Hopefully this won't endanger anybody else...

Bilfro steps into position behind the mage, brandishing his broken spear.

Ignoring Aramil, Fergus moves to attack the ogre.  His weapon has better reach than the priests, and the ogre has descended a little further.  The big farmer's scythe slashes across the ogre's fat gut, spilling even more blood in the room.  The beast leaps down from the stairs, swinging its own weapon, a massive, spiked club, two-handed towards Fergus' head.

Aramil rushes forward and raises his own blade to deflect the blow, but the ogre is too powerful.  The club knock's the bard's sword aside and fells Fergus... 

Corian shoots, but the bolt goes wide of the mark and strikes the wall behind the ogre...  The mage starts to reload.  Colwyn yells, "Fergus!" and shoots at the ogre too, but the shot is hurried and even manages to miss the doorway.

And Eilieen hurls her weapon.  But the shock of seeing Fergus struck down causes her to miss her aim, and the spear clatters against the wall and falls onto the stairs...

OOC: Oh dear...

Combatant         Init
Bilfro Gabbins            21
Oswald Osbourne           20
Aramil                    20
Aarnr Foultongue          15
Erista                    10
Corian Barade              9
Fergus Andarson            7
Ogre                       6  AC=16
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:  Dying
Oswald Osbourne:  Good

Ozzy's eyes go wide with horror at the sight of the Ogre, it was almost as scary as Aarnr in one of his fits! Pulling back his small arm, he hastily launches his javelin at the monster, grunting with the effort of release, ...and then pouting as the point sticks firmly into a crumbled beam on the interior of the tower.

14:11, Today: Oswald Osbourne rolled 6 using 1d20+5. throw a javelin

Erista peeks out from her spot as the Ogre steps over her - and fortunately not on her, although by less of a margin than she might have liked.  Raising her hand, she says, "彩色 浪花," shooting a spray of rainbows almost straight up.

"Fergus!"

With nothing left - not even a weapon, now - Eilieen reverts to type.  Still stumbling from her brutal wound, the priestess staggers forward and falls to her knees next to the downed man.  The ogre towers above her, roaring, but there's little she can do right now to change that - hopefully the more martial members of their battling band will land a critical blow upon the beast.

All she can do now is drag Fergus from the battle and strive to keep him alive.

OOC - On her (horrible) initiative, Eilieen moves to take hold of Fergus.  IF she can, she drags him back this round - 5' step, repositioning?  If not, she'll do that next round.

Aarnr is not so gone in his battle-frenzy as not to recognise a death-blow when it falls ... and the sudden thrill of blood as he realises that fatal blow struck another and that he is still amidst the living is all it takes to rouse the god within him once more, forcing tired muscles to even greater heights.

The low growl within Aarnr's throat rises to a rumbling crescendo as it bursts past his lips in a exhalation, as the feral-priest swings his sword once more, seeking the Ogre's vitals ...

Shock from the situation and the devastating blow to Fergus, Aramil falters in his recital. Coughing away the feeling of dread and the tears that form in his eyes the half-elf roars at the beast and moved forward to defend the downed farmer. No-one will attack Fergus while I still stand he thinks to himself, forgetting both the ode and his own safety for the time being. Guilt at doing nothing while the others get hurt has caused the bard to neglect his own life as he attempts to save another.

"Monster, you shall not have this man for dinner!" he intones in a loud voice, lacking the poetry of his vocation yet with the feelings they portray. Then raising his voice once more Aramil begin a new ode, based on courage and war with descriptive language rarely used in common tellings around the inns and taverns of the land. It tells of the horror of combat, the blood, guts and pain that is usually ignored for glory, honor and victory that is assured in the poems and songs bards frequently use. Raising his sword again the bard swings, this time safe in the knowledge that the only Aramil is in the line of fire.

OOC:10:26, Today: Aramil rolled 2 using 1d6. Damage.
10:25, Today: Aramil rolled 19 using 1d20+1. Attack with sword.
Crap just missed my critical!

"Goodness!"

Bilfro jumps back where he stands outside the tower and behind the other two men.

"By Greybeard!"

A moments of deep brooding, if such a feat is indeed possible, and then the scrawny man begins to wave his arms around in the air, monotonously chanting "Domuzlar ve uçan inekler azalan, ben jambon gergin olabilirim!" over and over.

The occasional not overtly friendly sound escaping the doorway seems to make him twitch but not break his concentration regarding, well, whatever it is he is doing.

Fergus lays still, blood seeping from a nasty head wound...

Bilfro starts to gesticulate, and chant the same strange words over and over and Corian turns his head to stare, his face a mask of confusion and horror.  "What are you doing?"

A javelin flies from Ozzy's hand, misses the monster entirely, and embeds itself one of the oak beams which supports the ceiling of the room.

Aramil swings his shortsword at the giant, and the ogre bellows in rage as the weapon slashes across its ribs, opening a shallow wound and spilling yet more blood in the room, which looks more like an abattoir every moment...

A snarl answers it, and Aarnr's heavier blade hacks into the creatures side, releasing yet more blood in a hot crimson spray which adds a real red mist to the one which exists solely in the priest's vision.  The ogre lifts its club to retaliate, roaring something in its foul tongue...

And the weapon drops, as a flare of rainbow light illuminates the chamber momentarily.  The monster's eyes glaze over, and it stands, swaying and slack-jawed as its roar falls to a low groan...

Eilieen seizes the opportunity to grab hold of Fergus, and pull at him, with a strength born of fear and determination.  The big farmer's body moves slowly away from his assailant, dragged by the priestess, who is perhaps only half his weight.

OOC: Huzzah!  Teamwork!

Combatant         Init
Bilfro Gabbins            21
Oswald Osbourne           20
Aramil                    20
Aarnr Foultongue          15
Erista                    10
Corian Barade              9
Fergus Andarson            7
Ogre                       6  AC=16
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:  Dying
Oswald Osbourne:  Good

Colwyn blinks as coloured light limns the ogre brightly, and seems to stop it in its tracks.  "Good job!" he yells to Bilfro, not realising that Erista had actually cast the spell, followed by, "Nadgers!" as another crossbow bolt fails to hit its target.

"What what?"

Bilfro proudly represents the very essence of the living epitome of confusion as he looks at his hands, Corian and Colwyn before again looking towards the doorway where, by now, the rainbow has faded.

"I say, utterly unintended effect.  Need more study, yes, return to drawing board, yes," mutters he as he scratches the back of his head.  "Also need book for notes.  Notes important."

He remains where he is, now one more brandishing his broken spear as a crude staff, prepared to slay anything that ventures close enough for him to reach it before performing a strategic relocation post haste.

Corian shakes his head, though its not altogether clear whether he does so due to awe or denial.  The young apprentice drops his crossbow and unslings his pack, then starts rummaging through the contents in an effort to find something.

"Where is it?" he mutters, "It must be here somewhere.  I saw it only yesterday."

Almost as surprised at the successful attack and the ogre Aramil is buoyed and attempts again. This time it has more behind it and Aramil is thrilled to feel the blade slice through the ogre's flesh again.

OOC: 08:44, Today: Aramil rolled 5 using 1d6. Damage.
08:43, Today: Aramil rolled 18 using 1d20+1. Attack.

The priest roars yet again, spitting defiance in the Ogre's face, an eardrum busting bellow which ...

... quite frankly puzzles Aarnr greatly that his best challenge elicits no reaction.  Wearily he lowers his sword, the red-mist fading as his battle-rage fades, the fight seemingly over.  "Sheep-biting puttock," he absently chastises the Ogre, looking on as Aramil skewers the beast, but not deigning to attack a helpless a foe.

Now ... what was that bawdy, common-kissin' lewdster flappin' about ?  He scans the surprisingly well lit chamber, looking for the priestess of Zadastha, frowning as he sees her, badly hurt, yet trying to drag a fallen comrade from the fray.  Which ?

"Frog it !" the priest breathes, lips tightening as recognition comes.  His long legs take him quickly to the priestess.  "Thou leave him be !" he tells Eilieen urgently, but not unkindly, dropping his blade and falling to his knees at Fergus' side.  He eyes the shocking head wound inflicted by the Ogre's club, a fatal wound if ever he's seen (or let's face it, inflicted) one.  "Thou tardy-gaited lout," he chides Fergus gently.

"A good dea ..." he begins looking up at Eilieen, though just a glimpse of the priestess's face, seeing the determination with which she's ignoring her own wounds and willing the farmer-turned-warrior to cling to life brings him up short as precious little else in this world might.

Squaring his shoulders, Aarnr prepares to wrestle Fergus soul from Hel's cold grasp, only too aware that his god will not look kindly on his demands ...

"Bowbe," the priest shakes his fist at the heavens, "thou artless, fly-bitten skains-mate !  Thou mammering, bat-fowling bum-bailey !  This is not his froggin' time !  Send him back thou elf-skinned giglet !"

Aarnr places his hands over that terrible wound on Fergus head and hopes ...

Aramil strikes again, and his blade sinks deep into the ogre's filthy flesh, spilling more blood.  The monster staggers and topples, and the half-elf narrowly avoids being crushed beneath its massive bulk.  The impact as it strikes the ground is almost deafening in the confined space.

The room is eerily quiet, but only for a moment...

Aarnr turns away from the ogre, disgusted that the foe refuses to fight any longer, and realises that Fergus has fallen.  He kneels beside Fergus' motionless form and growls a few pithy insults at his god.  Then lays a hand on the farmer's head.

Aarnr's shoulders slump, the battle for Fergus life more wearying yet than the fight with orcs and ogre.

"He'll live," the priest tells Eilieen, "I could do little enough and can manage no more, but the loggerheaded clot-pole is a warrior to the end.  All that was needed was to kindle the froggin' spark."

He grimaces as he sees the priestess's own wound, mindful that he can do nothing for her.

As the ogre topples the half-elf shakes visibly though he is not sure from what source. Aramil drops to his knees next to the big creature unable to stand anymore with the weight of emotions that are cursing through him at the moment. Happiness at his first successful kill, relief that it only to two attacks by the bard, terror as the thought of death for Fergus, himself and the others.

Hearing the comments that Aarnr speaks Aramil realises how close a call the farmer had to leaving this life. Turning his head and looking at the pair standing over Fergus the half-elf shakes becomes worse, to the point that anyone looking may be surprised he manages to stand. Walking over, on very wobbly legs, he stops at the prone figure and leans in close. "Stay with us my friend. We haven't finished your story. Many greater deeds are yet to be recorded." Straightening up he walks towards the door leans on the doorframe and with a clarity that is unexpected tells the others "Fergus is alive, but I think only just. Eileen is also hurt and I'm still unable to tell about Aarnr. I think it would be best to get ready for night, those injured will need some food and warmth."

Still half-panicked, Eilieen releases Fergus into Aarnr's tender(?) care when the priest leaves combat to assist.  It's such a rare occurance, it actually leaves her speechless for a long moment as Bowbe's servant(?) pleads (???) for his god's assistance in a time of need.

Beyond the little drama, Aramil strikes a second at the somnolent ogre, his sword stabbing surely.  The creature slumps sans sound, save for the slap of suet against stone.

And silence, like the ogre, falls.

Eilieen sags, placing her hands palm down against the filthy floor.  One rises to press against the pulsing wound in her side as Aramil arrives.  "Well...well struck, my friend," she whispers.  "Well fought, in truth."  Then her gaze rises to Bowbe's priest.  She should really do something about her injury, but...

"...'elf-skinned giglet'?"  One thin, pale brow cocks.  "Oh, Aarnr."  Reaching out, she pats the burly man on his cheek, offering him a weak smile.  "You are a gem.  And thank you.  For the kindling."

They have defeated the ogre, with no loss of life.  Yet.  Perhaps, Eilieen prays, they can hold through the night until both she and Aarnr have regained their deity's good graces.  Or whatever passes for such among Bowbe's priests.