His spell's effects notwithstanding, Inas fumbles around in the dark.

10:42, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 12,13 using d20+7,d12+6.  Round 3 (14 to hit).

The priest who is standing guard over a small group of civilians cries out, "Kord, god of war, lend your might to the brave who stand against the darkness"

ooc: this adds 5 to Inas' to hit for this round, so he hits!!


Meanwhile, at the other battle site, two of the town guard swing swords at the newly gated in demon, one of them a large muscular chap, lands a solid blow on it (7hps).

From the crown, a smallish girl steps clear of the retreating crowd and raises a hand at the creature, speaking softly, two fiery bolts streak unerringly into the Vrock, but fizzle and die as they reach close to it. (no damage, resistance check made)

ooc: I'll await Folke and Saliq's actions before the next round wrap up.

On seeing Rath's demon fall, quickly switches and fires two arrows into the one Marissa is fighting with, both arrows hit and do damage.

8:59, Today: GM Bard, on behalf of Folke Vanirhalvt, rolled 8 using 2d6+2.

18:58, Today: GM Bard, on behalf of Folke Vanirhalvt, rolled 16 using 1d20+1.

18:58, Today: GM Bard, on behalf of Folke Vanirhalvt, rolled 17 using 1d20+1.

Saliq strokes his ring and mutters a sentence of command: "Noble El Kabah, servant of the ring I request your aid in battle against this vile demon."

Inas swings again against the demon, and though, he feels his swing a bit wide, the Vrock unluckily steps right into the path of his blade, taking another solid hit.

The demon is beginning to feel the effects of the rangers hits, and responds with only two minor hits of its own.  (-6 hps). 


Rath lands a heavy blow on his opponent, sending it to ash and fire.

Marissa, in a move of great skill, retrieves her spear and punishes the newly gated demon with two heavy blows.   Folke adds a pair of arrows and a large towns guard lands a hit on the beast as well.   Saliq summons El Kabah, the spirit djinni, who immediately flies over to the black form of the demon, who is already staggering under the beating it has gotten in way of a greeting,  and pounds it HARD on its vulture-like head, sending it too back to the pits of hell.

Rath, Marissa, Saliq, Folke, and the Djinni, have cleared the square of the demons, the many citizens that have retreated to watch from doorways and windows, stand in wide-eyes awe.




Inas' Vrock   AC:0  HP's:  x/-23    attacks: 1d4, 1d4, 1d8, 1d8, 1d6

Party Vrocks: AC:0  HP's:  x/dead   x/dead   x/dead

PC       AC    HP   AP  0  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10   Notes

Inas     1   83/54   3   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4
Rath     2   67/37   2   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4
Saliq    7   26/26   3   18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10  9  8
Marissa  2   57/57   3   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4
Folke    2   39/39   4   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4


End of round three: players are up!



This message was last edited by the GM at 18:29, Thu 22 Mar 2018.

Marissa touches Rath's shoulder, mutters a prayer to Poseidon, "Sea lord, hear my prayer."

9 points of healing to Rath.

Saliq gives a weary smile at the Djinn. "My heartfelt thanks noble son of the furthest winds. Can you take to the air and tell if any others of that bird headed beast's kind are abroad in the city?"

Rath nodded grimly and gratefully to Ehridol, but he didn’t wait around. As soon as the demon collapsed into ash, Rath was of again at a fast trot, toward the Nail. The bloody carnage he left behind for that priest of Kord to mop up.

The djinni asks, "Do you wish to join me, all of you?  I can get you whereever you wish to go quicker than you can run".

That stopped Rath in his tracks. Normally, he would defer to Saliq. The djinn was his to command, after all. In this circumstance, though, Rath did not hesitate. "Take me to the Rusty Nail."

Kabah does not take his eyes off the illusionist, but a slight nod from Saliq brings a smile to the large djinni's face.  Instantly, the ground below the parties feet feels like its turned to ice, and looking down a swirling of dust at incredible speed is moving beneath them.  Kabah sits in the center of this swirling mass, and everyone begins to rise quickly from the ground as a spiral like a small tornado erupts below them.  In seconds, everyone is 70 feet in the air and moving quickly down the streets, the whirlwind travels in a straight line, up and over buildings, it is exciting and a little dizzying.  But as quick as it started, it ends, dropping down in a matter of mere moments, you find yourselves landing in the square outside the "Nail".

There, in the square, are two patches of black burned dirt.  As in the square you just left, citizens are staring in awe and fear at what they've seen, but a single soldier is standing in the center, wearing strange armor, a mix of metals, scales, horns, and a lance that must be 8 feet or longer and glows even to those who cannot see magic.  No one seems injured and whatever battle was here, is over.

Meanwhile . . .

Sensing that the battle may be tilting in his favor, Inas grimly sets to ending this fight on his terms.


19:59, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 16,11 using d20+7,d12+6.  Round 4A (14 to hit for sure, maybe less).

20:00, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 10,15 using d20+7,d12+6.  Round 4B (14 to hit for sure, maybe less).

Inas' next hit was the critical one, sending the demon into an explosion of ash and fire, leaving naught but a burnt patch on the ground.

With its death, the crowd of civilians actually applaud!!

The figure with the lance looks up from where it was studying one of the burnt black patches, watching as the party lands in spectacular fashion from a swirling tornado.  In a voice that is low but feminine, it says, "Quite an entrance".

Inas is panting slightly.  His concern that more needs to be done overshadows his embarrassment (irritation?) at the accolades.

"Is everyone ok?" he asks, although a quick visual glance proves that the citizens are safe.

Saliq blinks as he looks at the armoured woman standing so proud nearby.

"Indeed so madam, though I see you need little aid." Saliq gestures at the twin dark patches on the ground. "Your weapon work I presume?"

"Are there more of those things?" Rath asked the stranger in passing. He was already heading toward the tavern. He called out to Marissa, "Where the hell is Inas?" He didn't wait for an answer. Rath was on the move.

The tall warrior ignores both Rath and Saliq's questions, and walks directly over near Marissa.  Hard to tell what it is looking at behind its helmet, but it stares at her for a few moments, then turns and heads back to the tavern.

Rath finds everyone, including Rose, safe within, and not really that worried about what has happened outside.


Meanwhile, the cleric, states, "I prayed to Kord to protect these people, and he not only did that, he sent a warrior as well.   Blessings on you, I am Klaroj, if you would allow us, we can heal your wounds".

If Inas allows, this cleric and three of his young acolytes who have been near him, all cast healing spells and he is quickly restored to full points.   It does not take him long to meet up with the others at the Nail.

Folke openly stared in wonder at the female warrior, perhaps seeing something more than the others in her arms and armour, or the way she carried herself.  His head swivelled as the woman walked past to gaze intently at Marissa, then reversed to follow her departing form as she headed toward the Nail's entrance.  To her backside he said one word with a mixture of reverence and awe.

"Sigurdsdottir."

He followed the woman and the rest of his friends into the tavern, where he was a little surprised at the calm aplomb that engulfed the place.  Maybe they didn't realize what had just happened across the city?  No matter, he thought, there was a legend he wanted to verify.  So he approached the imposing female warrior and bowed gracefully before her.

"I am known as Folke, skald of Vestfald.  You are one of the Sigurdsdottirs, are you not?" he asked expectantly.  "A wyrmslayer?"

The warrior, who is seated alone, looks at Folke for a few moments,  "Saracutti".

He takes that as her name, she pushes a seat back with foot, an obvious invitation to join her, and removes her helm.   Long cinnamon hair falls out, her face is strong and angular, her eyes green.

What she says next, is hard to say.

ooc: Folke roll a d100 to see if your language skills help at all.
This message was last updated by the GM at 23:49, Sun 25 Mar 2018.

"Yes . . . I am glad you are all alright," Inas says; the words don't seem particularly grand for the occasion, but this is Inas.

He waits until the healing is completed, then warns: "I don't know what brought those monsters, and I don't know if there will be more.  It would be wise for you all to seek shelter somewhere."   With that bit of advice imparted, the ranger dashes off to the Nail.

Upon arriving, he heads to Rath and the others.  He takes notice of the female warrior conversing with Folke.  Facing Rath he allows his eyes to dart to the stranger and then back to Rath and, with a cock of his head and a raised eyebrow he non-verbally asks "Who's that?"

With a shrug Saliq turned to his Djinn. "A thousand blessings for your aid noble son of the winds. Return to your ring for the moment, leaving with my grateful thanks."

Afterwards he followed the others into the inn, curious about this strange and rude warrioress.

Rath, brandishing Devilsbane,  burst in to the tavern, all intense and ready for violence , so he was taken aback by the lack of emergency within, and he probably drew some pretty odd looks. He surveyed the scene, furrowed his brow, and approached Rose. "You okay? You ... you look okay. I mean, you look better than okay. You're okay. Good." He looked around and smirked a self-effacing smirk. "I. Uh. I'll explain later. Can I get a godsdamn beer?"

He realized that the warrior from the street had entered the Nail, and now just about everyone was here. Rath responded to Inas' nonverbal question with a nonverbal smirk and a shrug to convey his ignorance and moved to join the ranger.

Marissa finds a seat with Folke.

"You've ruined my joke, Lady Saracutti," she said carefully, enunciating each syllable. With a rueful shake of her dark tresses, she added. "I was admiring your lance. You can imagine where the joke went wrong, I suspect. That said, I mean no disrespect, and I am rarely glib. 'Tis not often I see a warrior fight multiple demons alone and survive, much less a woman. You have my honor as a compatriot."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:09, Sun 25 Mar 2018.

Folke took the roughly offered seat and settled in, cocking his head slightly as the woman spoke in a strange language.  Those listening in heard him respond in kind, though his efforts seemed more laboured.


When Marissa approached and then sat, Folke made room for her and cut off his questions.  He sensed that the strange warrior would expect the conversation of two women to take precedence, so instead he stayed silent, listened and watched.