"Yeah!  Yer can be 'avin' any dragons we's meetin', an I's goin' ter be findin' any loot they's 'avin' stashed away." Colwyn says with a broad grin.  Then, as an afterthought, "So's Bowbe can be gettin' a good cut of it."

"An' on account of 'ow yer me good friend, I's goin' ter let yer claim my share of the glory fer the kill as well.  An' yer'll be deservin' it too."

Jack starts to stand up to help himself to some more stew, and an arrow thumps into the tree stump he had been leaning against just a moment before.  The driver drops flat and rolls away from the fire...

From the gloom beneath the dusk-shrouded trees come a series of whoops, and an angry yell, [Language unknown: "Mepre plni, acrut antwitlarrat ncres n foricatheson alad!"], followed by the sound of something (or possibly several somethings) crashing heavily through the undergrowth.

"Orcs!" Colwyn gasps, as he scrambles towards where his weapons are propped against the wheel of a wagon...

OOC: Initiative rolls and stuff, please.  And time to remember where you left your weapons.

About to answer, Eilieen finds herself rudely interrupted by a flying arrow.  With a small shriek, she ducks instinctively, then shoves herself to her feet and bolts for 'her' wagon.

"But we were eating!" she yells, furious, before realizing the orcs are probably considering much of the same, with a side order of torture and torment on top of it.

Meal entertainment, as it were.

Fired to a fury, Zadastha's priestess fumbles for her weapon, focusing on delivering her companions from their foes' fearsome clutches.

OOC - Initiative of 13.  I think that's a record for me, with no targets in sight.  :)  Eilieen will take her round to get back to the wagon and grab her spear.

I remembered!  Extra experience points?

Fergus drops his plate and spoon, spilling the last of his dinner on the ground, as he scrambles to his feet.  He looks about, desperately trying to recall which of the wagons his axe might be lying in.  Then his face splits into a broad grin as he remembers, and starts towards it...

Init=5

Aarnr Foultongue msg#30:

"When it's quiet ... that's when ye should be most fobbin' worried !"  He pats his sword reassuringly.

OOC: <coughs> seems Aarnr actually has his weapon with him !  No need at all for any prevarication along the lines of 'using his great sword to eat with' ! <grrrins>

The priest is engrossed in both meal and conversation and slow to react when the arrows start flying, managing another mouthful of stew before the persistent cries of Orcs ! penetrate his reverie.

Ah, dessert !  Rising to his feet, careless of the danger, Aarnr pulls his blade from its sheathe, turning towards the noise in the undergrowth, eyes lighting up with delight.  "HEDGE-PIGS !" the priest proclaims, hurrying forward to greet them properly.

The story of the dragon has Erista quite mesmerized.  She is in fact so caught up in imagining herself fighting one - someday - that when the crashing noises start, Colwyn's cry of, "Orcs!" comes at the same time Erista calls out, "Dragon!"

Blushing slightly, she goes quiet, afterwards, though, sliding away from the fire into the shadows of the wagons.  Whether because she's embarrassed about calling out the wrong danger, or just as a natural response to being attacked by Orcs, she finds herself a quiet spot where she's harder to see.

Seeing others start running for their weapons, she shrugs a little and tugs her sling out from her belt.  One advantage to the sling, she reflects; being really just a strip of leather, there's hardly any reason to put it down, even at home.

OOC: Initiative 24!  And with that, I feel no shame at all in assuming her weapon is easily at hand.

After stuffing himself on hard tack, Ozzy had been dozing on the back of the wagon so he only had subconsciously had heard the tale of dragons. This, combined with the mixed shouts of Colwyn and Erista had him sitting up abruptly, small hands scrambling for the sling at his belt and the pouch of bullets as he looks franticly around for an Orc riding a dragon. " MM-wha? ...DragOrc?!" Or worse, an Orc wearing a womans pretty dress.

19:23, Tue 08 July 2014: Oswald Osbourne rolled 23 using 1d20+7 ((16)).

Bilfro bawls because bloody blundering bandits bothers beef banquet.

"Battles begs blood, blood being barely bountiful, best be bright," Bilfro bleats bibulous, before bravely bolting backwards behind blanket.


OOC:  Bilfro Gabbins rolled 21* using 1d20+3. Initwhat what?

_{* Bloody Blackjack, babe!}

For an instant, all is frozen in time, and then time reasserts its tyrannical grip on the world...

Erista is fast, almost seeming to vanish into thin air as she moves quickly away from the fire and under one of the wagons, where she readies her sling and watches, warily, in the general direction that the arrow seemed to come from.

Above her, and reacting almost as quickly, Ozzy shakes himself fully awake and sits up in the back of the wagon, scanning the darkening woods for any sign of enemies that he could, potentially, greet with a sling bullet.

Colwyn skids to a halt and bangs into the side of the same wagon, snatches up his sword, and yanks it clear of the scabbard.  "Orcs!" he repeats, just in case anybody has missed his earlier warning.  The caravan leader, Honil, meanwhile draws his own blade and instructs his men, "Easy chaps!  Drivers find cover!  Guards stand ready to fight!"

Bilfro, deciding that hidingdiscretion is the better part of valour runs to clamber into another wagon, where he takes cover among the bales of cloth, whence he intends to perform a detailed strategic analysis of the battlefield.  As he pulls his blanket over himself, Odysseus Warfield Leonidas, meanwhile, observes the activity from a nearby tree with thinly disguised owlish contempt.

Disappointed at the orcs' display of disgraceful manners in interrupting her dinner, Eilieen also, in between berating the orcs' lack of etiquette, takes a few moments to grab her weapons from where they lay.  It seems that nothing spurs her to swift action quite like rudeness.

The first orc charges out into the open, just as Aarnr bellows an enraged challenge and springs towards the forest.  The result is, perhaps, wholly predictable - lots of blood and death, and none of it Aarnr's.

Within moments, the burly savage finds himself facing several more orks as they step out of the gloaming...

Fergus reaches the cart to retrieve his axe, then thinks again, and picks up Valkyria instead.  As he draws the weapon, the edges of the blade burn with a bluish light, and the nearest orcs howl.  One of them, bolder than the others, rushes forward and thrusts a spear at him, opening a deep gash across his left arm,  Valkyria responds, but the orc, leering, parries the blow...

Many of the caravan guards hurry to collect their weapons, while the few who still carry them move to join the battle...

OOC: Plenty of orcs left to go around.  :)

Combatant                Init
Erista                    24
Oswald Osbourne           23
Colwyn Akbar              21
Bilfro Gabbins            21
Honil                     21
Orcs                      16 (AC=14)
Eilieen                   13
Aarnr Foultongue           9
Fergus Andarson            5
Caravan Guards             4

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

"BAWDY BAT-FOWLING BOAR-PIGS !" Aarnr's delight is almost contagious as he skewers one of the orcs and turns to face the second wave, meeting the orcs' spears with a mighty swing of his great sword, grunting boldly.

Orcs.  Foul creatures what prey upon the innocent.  Eilieen spins from the wagon, dress flaring simultaneously with the righteous anger in her narrowed eyes.  Aarnr is engaged, similarly the wounded Fergus.  The enemy is many, and too far for her at this moment, but...

Her free hand seeks the Zadasthan symbol hanging from her neck, and her voice rises above the clangor of the battle, echoing as she chants. "Love's Guardian, stand in defense of those who strive to reach their homes!"

Light flares about her oustretched hand, coalescing into a burning golden form...

OOC - Don't know if I'll get hit before this happens, but one can always hope!  Casting Summon Monster I, Celestial Dog.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:11, Wed 09 July 2014.

Erista bides her time.  From her perspective, there is plenty of room under the wagon to spin her sling, and she watches the charging Orks with a surprisingly clinical eye while she lines up her shot.

A small rock whips out and up, catching one of the attackers squarely on the jaw.

Evasive enchanter accumulates all insight acquired about enemies, evaluating achievable objectives.  Always aware, ever observant, esteemed enchanter evades eyeballing aptly.  Another unfriendly encounter, ugh.  Elbows in and ears out, eternally anxious over outrageous affray.

"Uh oh.  Awful agitation, inconceivably increase of unwanted outcome of expedited..."  Abrupt alarmed exhalation.  "Exit, end, annihilation!  Aaaaah!" (almost inaudibly as usual)

Undersized arbalest appears, eager of evisceration of evil orcs.

Away, ungenuine unprolonged arrow*, away!


*_{(Ack, it only achieved awry!)}

Standing up in the back of the wagon for a better view of the chaos spilling out around them, Ozzy quickly drops a bullet into the sling and begins whipping it around his head. He smiles as he watches his blood brother cut one of the foul smelling Orcs down and in his own excitement, releases the bullet a half second too soon, sending it into the trees where it hits with a wooden -THOK- of noise to emphasize his miss.

14:56, Thu 10 July 2014: Oswald Osbourne rolled 11 using 1d20+5 ((6)). Attack>

Fergus frowns, thinking he should have, perhaps stuck with his axe.  His unfamiliarity with the sword just makes the weapon feel too light in his hands.  And the glowing edges of the blade seem like a flashy distraction.  The only good thing he can find to say about it is that his wounded left arm doesn't hamper his ability to use a one-handed weapon...

Desperately he slashes at the despicable creature again, and... Fergus gives an exultant cry of triumph as Valkyria bites deep into the orc's flesh.

Fergus Andarson, rolled 25 using 1d20+8. Attack vs AC=14.
Fergus Andarson, rolled 7 using 1d8+5. Damage.
If applicable - Fergus Andarson, rolled 16 using 1d20+8. Cleave.

Colwn grabs his weapons and clambers up onto the wagon, where he restrings the short bow with practised skill and takes an arrow from the quiver.  "Buggers's goin' ter be payin' fer interruptin' my grub.  It'll be gettin' cold by the time I's bein' able ter eat it."

He nocks the arrow and draws back the string, searching for a target.  "Which of yers is bein' ugliest?"

An orc moves out into the open, brandishing an axe and ready to strike down anybody who stands in its way.  It takes two paces and falls to the ground as Erista hits it with a slingstone.  It lays in the dirt, unmoving.

Ozzy is less fortunate.  His own bullet misses his intended target and vanished into the gloom.  Behind him, Colwyn kneels searching out a suitable target for an arrow.

The merchant, Honil, demonstrates that he is prepared to defend his profits.  Moving forward, he lashes out with his sword and takes one of the orcs in the gut, then leaves it to die as he seeks another foe.

In his own wagon, Bilfro suddenly rises up to fire his crossbow, only to see the shot go wide.  Abundant agitation impedes attack accuracy.  Swiftly, he ducks down again.

Honil finds his next opponent, and promptly receives a deep wound across the ribs as the orc attacks him with a cleaver.

Safely in the cover of the wagons, Eilieen sends up a prayer to Zadastha for aid, and hopes that it arrives soon.  Not far away she can see Aarnr cheerfully butchering another of the vile humanoids, cleaving it in twain, before turning to block the attacks of two of its comrades.

Fergus' opponent thrusts its spear at him again, and this time hits his shoulder.  Fergus replies immediately, and Valkyria rips the orc's throat out.  Then the shining blade reaches again, taking a second one through the eye.

And now the caravan guards join the fray.  They fight well, and some of the orcs die at their hands immediately.  But more of the men fall, a poor match for their savage opponents.

From just beyond the firelight, comes the barking of a hound, and a shimmering golden form trots into view...  And across the camp, more orcs are appearing from the forest...

OOC: Still plenty of orcs left to go around.  :)

Combatant                Init
Erista                    24
Oswald Osbourne           23
Colwyn Akbar              21
Bilfro Gabbins            21
Honil                     21
Orcs                      16 (AC=14)
Eilieen                   13
Aarnr Foultongue           9
Fergus Andarson            5
Caravan Guards             4

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

Fergus steps around the falling orc, his frown deepening by the moment.  He reaches the next one, and bellows an inarticulate challenge, as the glowing blade thrusts forward... and strikes the vile creature in the gut, with everything that the man can put into it.

Fergus Andarson, rolled 23 using 1d20+8. Attack.
Fergus Andarson, rolled 9 using 1d8+5. Damage.

"Go doggie!" Eilieen cries, then lunges into the fray.  Sort of.  Rather than go on the attack, instead the Zadasthan priestess hurries to where the beleaguered Fergus battles against his opponents.

The downed caravan guards will be next, but for the moment, it's imperative that their better fighters remain on their feet.

"Lady of the Open Heart, salve the pain of an embattled heart," she whispers, reaching out with a hand that flares golden in the dying light.

OOC - Cure Moderate Wounds.  16 HP.

Ozzy stands his ground in the back of the wagon, holding the advantage of height which he is normally denied. Spinning the sling, he launches another stone into the shadows around the campsite. Frowning, he reaches into the pouch hoping to find a bullet with enough definition to launch cleanly next try.

14:13, Mon 14 July 2014: Oswald Osbourne rolled 12 using 1d20+5 ((7)). Sling Stone.

Looking out from under her wagon, Erista sees a nice cluster of Orks.  She lifts a hand, fingers waggling.  She notices Aarnr, gleefully in their midst.  Biting her lip, she considers the possible ramifications.

After a moment, she decides that, in fact, what she's really about to do is give up her hiding place.  Letting her hand drop, she pulls out another smooth stone with it instead, fitting it into her sling, and giving it a whirl.

She does, however, send her rock hurtling towards one of the orks near Aarnr.

Aarnr is in fine form, cursing his foes and his god in equal measure, though as his sword slices cleanly through the air, and rather messily through the orks' flesh, most of his choicer phrases fall on suddenly deaf ears.

"THOU DANKISH, CLAPPER-CLAWED, WEATHER-BITTEN CANKER-BLOSSOMS ! THY DEATHS ARE UPON THEE !  BLEED ON ME WILL THOU, THOU PLUME-PLUCKED CLACK-DISH ?!!"

"Indecorously execrable fiends of often injurious aficionados sporting unsound minds!"

The almost improbably offensive phrase is called out at such level of volume it is no doubt heard almost to the edge of the very wagon in which the brave conjurer of the magic arts and flinger of errant quarrels cunningly dwells.  No doubt said fiends would have fallen down dead from embarrassment had they heard such an oath uttered.

In a bold and daring move he reloads his deadly weapon and throws another pointy stick in the general direction of the not overtly friendly orcs.


_{Edited for typo of dead.  Dead, not dad.  Sorry, pa.}
This message was last edited by the player at 14:50, Wed 16 July 2014.

Selecting a likely target, Colwyn mutters, "Even yer own mam couldn't be lovin' that there face.", and lets fly his arrow.  The missile flies true, straight to its mark, and the rogue reaches for another...

The quiet roadside clearing isn't any longer, having been replaced by a chaotic region, filled with the cries of combatants, and the moans of the injured...

Another stone comes flashing out from under the wagon, and another orc falls foul of Erista's not inconsiderable skill with the sling, as the impact snaps its head back and drops it, sprawling, on the ground.

Ozzy's attempt at emulating his fellow halfling is less successful.  The bullet can be heard, rattling and clattering away through the branches beyond the firelight.

An arrow from Colwyn's shortbow strikes an orc, piercing its bicep and bringing a roar of outrage as it tries to shift its axe to its off-hand.  If the rogue is disappointed that the orc isn't dead, it doesn't show on his face as he readies another arrow.

Honil's flashing blade, meanwhile, cuts down his foe in a welter of black orcish blood.  The caravan master is not, it seems, too shabby in a fight.  Certainly he's doing better than Bilfro, who appears to be having severe difficulty using his crossbow from the cover of the wagon.  Which does nothing to alleviate the look of disgust on the face of Odysseus Warfield Leonidas.  Or perhaps that's just his natural expression?

In the thick of battle with a several orcs, Aarnr twists aside and feels a stab of pain as a greataxe strikes a glancing blow against his hip.  A second orc slips and falls prone in the dirt, its massive club sliding and rolling across the ground.  Aarnr qhickly beheads that one, and eviscerates the one that struck him, before turning to face another and easily sidestepping a spear thrust.

The golden hound trots up to Eilieen, then races ahead of the priestess as she hurries to aid Fergus...

The beleaguered farmer continues to struggle against his foe.  Valkyria moves to parry an orcish blade, but the block is mistimed, and more of Fergus' blood is spilled...

Another orc moves in to attack the big man, but is suddenly distracted as Eilieen's hound leaps in front of it and grips its armoured shin.

Eilieen comes up behind Fergus and, aware of the presence of nearby orcs, she reaches out and touches her barely-standing comrade's back.  The healing power of Zadastha flows through her hand, and Fergus immediately stands straighter, and the hand gripping Valkyria seems to regain strength.

The shining blade swings in a wide arc, and the hideous creature falls before it...

And all around, the caravan guards, those that still stand, team up to fight against the orcs...

OOC: A half-dozen orcs left standing, and about the same number of caravan fighters, including Honil.  :)

Combatant                Init
Erista                    24
Oswald Osbourne           23
Colwyn Akbar              21
Bilfro Gabbins            21
Honil                     21
Orcs                      16 (AC=14)
Eilieen                   13
Aarnr Foultongue           9
Fergus Andarson            5
Caravan Guards             4

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

This message was last edited by the GM at 19:50, Wed 16 July 2014.

"Yay, doggie!"  Eilieen claps her hands, almost losing her spear, then hurries to the nearest fallen traveller.  With Fergus standing strong and the orcs now in dire peril, it seems wise to save who she can.

"Lady of Love's Laughter, preserve this poor soul," she whispers, reaching out to stem the leakage of life.  Energy flares momentarily about her hand, far weaker than before but still sufficient to stabilize.

OOC - Cure Minor Wounds on the nearest downed caravan guard - looking to stabilize him quickly so I can get to another one!