I'll let my sword cool down before I sheath it.

I sit down near the dying heat of the Ramorraz.

"I still need to kill the Jarl. I think that the quest requires that I Fight him personally.
As for taking over a tribe... Damn it Brain. Sign...

You have seen me kill a creature that even jotun fear by myself. Do you think that Jotun Tribes would follow me if they knew how strong I am? You could be my second in command.

That way. I could face the Jarl's forces with a few Jotun tribes backing me up."

"Heh. You are funny, small one." She is looking at the ramorrhaz parts irritably. "Slaves normally do this. You see why we use them? Give hand while I talk."

She continues to hack it apart, sliding the guts aside as she continues to speak as well. "They would never accept small folk as a leader, no matter how strong he is. Especially not here, in Thyrm's realm. Oathbinding them would work, until he sent a priest or an avatar, who would give a blessing from Thrym himself breaking the oath's power and transferring it to Thyrm, who doesn't care about such things. They would accept you as MY head slave, but you would hold no real power over them."

She recalls something. "You know, the back door into the fortress is on the Niflheim side. It is not well guarded against small folk either. They are expecting larger threats, things native here. One crazy mortal in bearskin could slip in the back, if he could get past our camp. That is where my tribe took up home, waiting to join."

I'll help her clean the Ramirrhaz.

"Damn. There goes that plan. If I had green mana to draw on, I could cast Giant's Growth to be as big as a giant for a time... maybe a version with snow mana... that would probably require a maintenance ritual.
Eh. The plan is too complicated with too many points of failure.

Moving on. Sneaking in like a mad man in bear skins. Is your tribe camped next to where I would enter the fortress?"

"Should be. It's why I am waiting for the snow to clear, so I can find out what direction they should be in." She continues chopping. "Honestly? My tribe is probably absorbed into another tribe now. I doubt the jarl will be forgiving of a failed raid. I'll probably be expected to play second fiddle to some other tribe. Probably the Howling Dirges. Those dogs were always at our heels."

"Well. My 'plan', such as it is, Is to sneak in to that fortress and then make it up as I go along. With the goal of killing the Jarl. Since I don't have any intelligence on the fortress that is the best I got for now...I suppose I could try scrying on it. You wouldn't happen to have anything made in the Fortress?"

Frath thinks for a moment, halting her work. She draws out a knife with a handle as long as the blade. "Slave craft, and it shows. They never get handle size right until you beat it into them. Made at the fortress, by a new slave. He didn't get beat, because the blade was good, if a bit small."

She hands it to Magnus. "Use it well. I actually like the knife, and will need it in a moment to cut this thing down further."

I think for a moment then smile. Handing the knife back to her
"Go ahead and use it to clean the Ramorrhaz. Rituals take a while to complete. You'll need it before I'm done."

I'll help finish cleaning the Ramorrhaz.

"Ok now it is time for magic."
I'll get the knife back from Frath

I'll trace a circle on the stone ground with the knife and then sit down in the middle of it.
I will start meditating. Connecting my mind to the Akashic records. I will look up where this knife was made in the records and then use that connection to get the layout of Fortress.

Upon being read, Magnus gets not only a feeling of the castle's layout, and its multidimensional link to Niflhiem, but also get a look directly into the dining hall, which also doubles as the throne room, and gets a good look at Jarl Statrorr himself. Instead of blonde hair like the other Jotan, his hair is stark white, and his eyes are pitch black orbs instead of the cold blue of the others. He wears heavy black plate of his own, even here in the comfort of his own halls, and has a massive sword at his side.

The others are enjoying their meals immensely, and he is the only one who seems completely disinterested in what is doing on around him, almost absently chewing the meat he has. He glances directly at the point of Magnus's vision, and starts to squint a bit like he's focusing on something when the meal is interrupted. "Jarl! We have caught some runaways!"

He looks bored, as the conversation fails to stop at the table. He booms back, almost without seeming to make effort to raise his voice. He slings his massive legs over the side of his chair, indolently, no longer paying any mind to the scrying he almost noticed. "And? Why is this important? Runaways are punished in the normal fashion, and then put back to work."

"They are the ones who saw the black knight Paerthaeth spoke of!" The conversation dies down at the table, and the jarl slams his fist down. His voice does not raise more than needed to be heard.

"Your lives are mine, and you will not waste them being spooked at phantoms." That gets some conversation awkwardly starting. The jarl waves a hand. "Bring them in. I could use some entertainment."

Adaline and Brom are both herded into the room in chains, with Adaline showing signs of a savage beating, as the others continue talking and looking at them. The jarl takes a close look at them, and chuckles at Adaline. "Who taught you that you were more than jotan-slave, human? This one understands his place."

Adaline's spirit has undergone a resurgence of late. "Lord Magnus is coming for you, and when he gets here, your place will be six feet under."

Jarl Statrorr casually slaps her hard enough to send her backwards, causing much laughter at the table. He doesn't even crack a smile as she staggers back to her feet. "But he's not here now, and he left you behind. That's unlike a warrior of the sun. Why did he do that?"

Adaline seems completely confident as she speaks. "He returned home, along with one of your kin, to remove a curse from her and prepare to kill you."

"Hmm. The curse of the mind, from Paerthaeth's ritual. Demons from beyond whispered into the minds of all nearby, filling their minds with visions of the future. A waste, really, that she could not be brought back here. I love opportunities to get messages from them." He leaned back in his chair, and tipped back a glass of wine. "So...woman. How do you know the two of them didn't just go to bugger one another and never come back here?"

Adaline is undeterred by the jarl's suggestion. "I know because I've seen his return to this world in dreams of light. I was told by a voice I trust."

"You dreamed it, and that makes it true?" This actually causes Statrorr to crack something almost resembling a smile, before it goes back to grim again. "I tell you what, slave: I'll give you different dreams tonight. Taskmaster, after you discipline her in the usual fashion, and once she's done in the mines for the day, send her to the orcs for the night and tell them they can do anything they want to her. I don't know if they breed or even have women, but I'm certain they will think of something on par with that, or they will just kill you and free the other slaves of your idiocy. If you are still alive, I'll ask about your dreams in the morning...if I remember who the hell you even are."

"The name's Adaline, you giant, frozen bas-!" A crack of a whip interrupts her, and a second hit from the whip drags her back to the slavemaster. The jarl doesn't even blink at this as he pets the wolf at his side. "Slaves have no names until we decide they do. Now begone. We are making merry."

The both of them are brought out, with Brom not saying a word the entire time. One of the jotan whispers something to the jarl, and the jarl responds aloud. "Hmm? What for? No one is coming here, and if they do, they will die. There is one way into this fortress, and it is suicide for one mortal, no matter how formidable he thinks he is."

He glares at the jotan who whispered, his voice menacing. "Now eat. We are warriors, not slaves. Disobey me again, and you will share the mines with the slaves."

Magnus's mind leaves the throne room, and takes a tour of its halls a second time, with the vision lingering on one of two gates from the back: one coming from Niflheim, and the other from the mines where Brom and Adaline have been pointed to after a whipping Magnus is mercifully spared from watching.

Magnus now knows the castle, and where to enter from. Now, he needs to know where the camp is. Thankfully, in the time it took for him to come back from his trance, Frath had made a fire from one of the ramorrhaz glands, and was cooking the meat. "So, the blizzard has almost cleared up. You ready to move out? You find what you were looking for?"

This vision of abuse fills me with Rage. My mark flairs like an angry midday sun in the desert. A wrath-filled Warrior of the sun is about to descend upon them.

But the time to rage is not now. I hold my anger in check and subdue the light from my mark.

"I found what I needed to know. I have one ritual that I need to do. The two former slaves where recaptured. I need to make hast to the entrance to the fortress.  Please read the stars as soon as the blizzard clears up enough to do so. I'll be ready as soon as the ritual is done."

I'll hand Frath's knife back to her and then draw my black iron dagger. Then I consider the ritual for a moment and then sigh.

"I'm planning on cutting the link between the fortress and Niflhiem behind me to cut off the Jarl from the reinforcements from your tribe and the other tribes."

I'll let any comment or conversation happen then start on the ritual. I'm planning on binding the spell in the dagger. And make it release the spell when I stab the gate.

I'll start by preforming an energetic kata with more grace than one would expect from someone my size. Strikes flow into one another in a unending dance of controlled chaos.

I'll gather the destructive energies of the kata and start forming them into a spell.
Using the knowledge of the metaphysical nature of the link between worlds. The spell will metaphysically cut the magic that is holding the gate open. First it will target the weak points in the magic, cutting them to introduce instability into the gate. Then it will unleash the rest of it's energy into the cosmic keystone that is holding the magical structure of the gate open. Damaging it enough to cause a controlled collapse that vents the energy released to the Niflhiem side.

Once I finish crafting the spell, I'll prevent it from staring and then bind it into the Dagger. locking it so that it will only release when I unsheathe the dagger and stab the gate with it.

OOC: So what would that be? Destruction + Willpower or Power + Willpower? something else?

The spell is bound to the dagger, and will work as desired, but it is shaking with iridescent power, and it will not hold longer than four days.

The blizzard outside has cleared up, and Frath holds up her hand to the shining sky. "Hah! You are truly lucky, small one! That light in the sky is the wandering rainbow bridge! Where it comes down at, someone is crossing the world, and we are very close to its point."

She packs up the food, and buries the gland and the plates it was on into the ice before pulling them out again. "I'm going with you, little man. Knowing what little I know of you, you will blow everything for miles on this side of the gate apart for miles with that ritual knife of yours. I don't know how, and I don't care to find out. You aren't killing ME on accident, or at the least, you will see me when I die."

"Also, I owe the jarl something of my own."

I'll sheath the dagger and pack what little I have.

I nod at her assessment that everything on this side is likely going to be blown up. Then I think of something.

"Frath, how many slaves does your tribe have? Normally I would figure that Niflhiem would be too rough for them. Or that the Jarl would keep all of them in the Fortress."

She had to think about that figure for a moment. "A lot, actually. They outnumber us over here, because they are actually easy to corral. Where will they run? They need no cages, and they cannot survive long here away from heat. We don't even bother chasing them if they run from us here - too much work for too little frozen meat. Just don't give them actual weapons, because some of you small folk have a suicidal streak to you, and will kill the jotan bringing them food."

She took a bite of the ramorrhaz meat she had cooked on short notice. "Why? Thinking of an uprising of the small?"

I'll start walking towards that rainbow bridge.

"No sentient being likes being a slave. Some would rather take as many slavers with them into the afterlife then stay alive as a slave.
As for whether I'm thinking of leading a slave uprising. I am now. There is a distinct possibility that when I destroy the gate, it will destroy everything for miles on this side of the gate... And now I only have four days to do it in.
This causes so many problems... No time to train them or anything...
ok. How much outnumbering are we talking about here? 2 slaves to one Jotun? 3 to 1? How many jotun are in your tribe?
How settled are your tribe around that gate? Have you made permanent buildings out of stone and wood or are all of you still in tents?"

"Not a matter of wanting here, but whatever you think, small one. If you think the slaves aren't worthless, sure, you can probably kill their masters and have more worthless chaff with you. Maybe the other jotan will get confused, and not know which of you to kill because you all look the same...oh wait. I 'forgot.' Kill the glowing one."

"As for how many...two to one, three to one...either one close, at least near the fortress. Further out, lucky if one for one. You are right - they tend not to last long here. Usually just become wolf food."

She thinks a bit. "Likely only ten after you hit us and killed our best warriors. Other tribe probably brought in ten to fifteen more, for a total of something between fifteen to twenty-five, depending on how hard we fought them. Likely with a priest or a sorcerer of some kind, and a small pack of wolves. Sometimes, we have greenskin mercenaries, good for boring work that can't be trusted to slaves or wolves."

"And there are no tents there, small one. We build from existing stone sometimes, but mostly build from snow and ice. Always near a mountain, though. Without shelter, the winds will eventually tear down whatever you make. No wood here for the same reason; that's from your side if you find any of it."

She's walking with, and moving fairly fast. Magnus can actually see the sparks of light from several fires in the distance. "That's not normal. The jarl must be really confident if he is making a camp visible in Niflheim. He is trying to draw danger in with that."

I smirk to myself.
"He probably knows I'm coming. He seemed to notice my scrying.

Let's see if he brought out his forces to meet me. Mayby he withdrew the slaves to get them out of the way or to prevent me from freeing them.

And they are not worthless. Every one of them has the potential to be like me. I used to be like them. But after few short years of training and quite a few deaths, I became this strong. Hopefully they will be more careful than me and not die like me. Even if they didn't follow me, they are still not worthless. You would be surprised at what mortals can do hiven the proper tools and materials."

I'll go to where I get a better look at the camp while still remaining hidden.

Magnus tries his best to close in on the camp, but a nearly seemingly featureless tundra doesn't offer much in the way of concealment aside from the wind, which is reduced in power from what it had before.

Frath, on the other hand, has made herself nearly impossible to see. Then again, she's more willing to dive into the snow - it doesn't bother her at all.

Three of the jotan casually walk out of their camp and approach Magnus directly, two of them with axes and shields drawn and one with a net made of of some kind of strange material and several coils of rope made of the same. He's the one that is speaking. "So, little one. Had enough of the cold?"

One of the other giants speaks to the one with the ropes. "Grod dorin na. Reti extorma, ya?"

They get a good laugh out of that. "He says, start groveling, or we drive you back into the cold again."

I smirk and then draw my zweihander when I notice that the Jotun have noticed me. That is ample warning of my intentions for the Jotun.

When I get into range, I charge the one carrying the net. I roll to the side when he invariably throws the net at me. I come out of the roll near him, leaping up and slashing him from below with Mountain Hammer from this odd angle.
Killing him instantly. With which I follow up with a downward slash on the next Jotun.

OOC:
Magnus rolled 12 using 1d10+8, rerolling max with rolls of 4.  Initiative.

Full power attack for the attacks in this round.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:10, Mon 25 Dec 2017.

Magnus draws blood with a shallow blow to his foe's chest (9 damage), barely missing the heart only by the marginal strength of the armor. The other two strike, not particularly caring that the slaver wants Magnus alive, and get almost effortlessly parried for their trouble. The slaver casts his net in a panic, missing completely due to surprising agility on Magnus's part.

One of them has a wide but shallow cut to his arm as a result of Magnus's return strikes (5 damage), but the second of them parries the incoming counterstrike by a near hair. The slaver is seriously rethinking his decision to melee this strange human, and instead shouts something:

"REGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!"

A horn blows behind him in response.

Frath, oddly enough, is not visible.

My blade begins to blur as I swing it. A blood red wind that brings death. First, I Swing overhead and hammer the uninjured one into the ground. I run up him and then leap back to the other two, A wide swing goes through the slaver's head and continues to the other jotun. Slashing through him and then followed with a stab through him.

The initial jotun is pounded into the ground like a stake, his armor catching the brunt of the impact but failing to protect him from the punishment of that attack (4 damage). The slaver takes a savage gash to the head, just barely keeping his footing in the wake of Magnus's mighty blow. The follow though, as a result, isn't the stab Magnus intended but a quick slash, bisecting the slaver jotun and insuring he will not be taking anyone prisoner again.

The other one takes a lightning fast stab to the chest that checks his movements and draws a shallow amount of blood, and Magnus performs an instinctive follow through against his now unbalanced foe and lops off one of the jotun's right arm, sending the axe flying away with his arm in a crimson arc (0 hp remaining, missing arm, 4 critical damage).

The jotan, infuriated, pulls his way out from the ground, but decided to leave his one-armed ally to distract Magnus for him. "Yatawa! YATAWA DA!"

The one-armed giant replies immediately. "NEIN!"

A barrage of polished stones pummel the area around Magnus, several only missing because of instinctive dodges, but one is rather accurate (07:38, Today: Mentat rolled 31 using 6d10, dropping the 3 lowest rolls, rerolling max with rolls of 9,(10+3)13,8,5,1,9.  Jotan rock.). The other two smash into the jotun he is fighting, killing him instantly.

Magnus's tactical situation: he has one fleeing foe, but he's retreating in good order, facing Magnus. There are six jotun that have already shown up, and they are drawing a second volley of stones from in front of the snow buildings they are in front of, with one holding a horn on a high point. That one blares his horn again, this time in two quick blasts.

Magnus dodges towards the foe that is fleeing. Being narrowly missed by the polished stone falling behind him. He then Breaks out into a run. Then the snow explodes from below him as he leaps to the Jotun. Coming down like a meteor in a great overhead slash with the added momentum from gravity.

OOC:

20:01, Today: Magnus rolled 27 using 9d10, keeping the 4 highest rolls, rerolling max with rolls of 8,2,3,7,5,7,2,5,4.  Dodge the rock.

Static Defense is 26 + half of Dodge result (27/2=13.5 round down)= 39 Static Defense

I'm charging the fleeing Jotun.
Minimun Charge distance is 4 meters. Maximum is 26 meters.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:27, Tue 09 Jan 2018.

The fleeing Jotan is cut down hard, falling to the snow as the blade bisects his heart from the collarbone.

At this point, an inhuman roar is heard from the skies, and all of the Jotan stop their barrage, and promptly run. The air turns a strange color of bruised purple, and Magnus can feel the presence landing behind him. "Paladin of Pelor. What brings you to the land of the Jotan?"

The speaker is a smooth voiced horned demon with massive bat-like wings. The whole of the twelve foot tall monster is sculpted from ice that is obscenely alive. It casually wields an axe in its left hand, and its blank eyes stare down at Magnus, as it sizes him up. "Look at them withdraw. Not out of fear, but tactics, an understanding that I am not here for them, despite the call of their priest."

I smile up to the Demon of Violence before me. My zweihander held before me in a casual stance.

"Greetings Demon.
I'm on Vacation. I hear it is lovely here this time of year.
But enough joking around.
I need the life of the Jotun leader here for my own reasons.
I suppose that you are here for me?"

"The Jotun leader?" The monstrosity sneers at you. "Which one? The dead priest? All of these meat beings look alike to me, and half of them think they lead something. Fools. The only real Jotun leader is Thyrm, the true god of this world."

He raises a clawed hand, and bellows, a screeching roar that almost compels violence towards anyone and anything just to make it stop RIGHT NOW. The fleeing enemy stops fleeing, and you hear the sounds of human and jotan roaring, both sides yelling oaths of death to each other. "Pathetic, aren't they? The humans will die at the hands of the strong, as it should be. The Jotan will themselves then die for being weak at one of our hands, as they should do."

Its face splits into a shining maw, what seems to be an attempt to grin. "You aren't leaving, though, until I've fought you. And I will be your death, warrior."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:01, Mon 19 Nov 2018.

My eyes narrow at the Demon and what he caused the Humans and Jotun to do.

"I doubt that Demon. You deserve to die and I will be the Executioner."

My grip Immediately shifts to a spear like girp on the red zweihander. I  charge forward, plumes of snow spray out behind me as I push at the limits physics will allow. I'll thrust my sword into the first target that presents itself on the demon's body.

OOC: I assume that you need a new Initiative.

12:32, Today: Magnus rolled 13 using 1d10+8 with rolls of 5.  Initiative.

I assume that I am at least 4 meters away. If not I will shift up to him and then do a standard attack.

I will be Power Attacking for 5. I get +1k0 to hit from the charge and +1k0 to hit because my hatred for Demons applies. 12k5 base - 5k0 + 1k0 + 1k0 + stunt = 9k5 + stunt.

This message was last edited by the GM at 20:43, Fri 16 Nov 2018.