The Half-Ogre quickly returned with another flagon of mead. He took a sip of the new drink and swished it around his mouth to be sure.

"Much better, I assure you," he said, handing the Elf the drink and taking his seat again.

"My name is Drakul," he said, offering a hand to shake. "Please, sit. Tell me of this Hnerra! I really must make this up to you. The worst possible way to make a new friend..."

She takes the drink and try’s to secrectly sniff it. She sets it on the table in front of her and extends her hand to shake his, using all her might to try and not look like a wimp. “Glad to meet you, Drakul. My mother named me Fegurth but I go by Fey for short. Oh, he’s one of my brothers, he’s pulled that trick on me several times. It’s not as bad as the pranks Syfjathur would pull on me though. He would always shoot me with tranquilizer darts when we were collecting berries and he’d leave me in the forest for hours. Jokes on him though, he was born with a crippled arm” She chuckles to herself. “What about you, do you have any siblings?”

Fergurth misses the signs of the hot skillet concealed beneath the seat cushion, but her reflexes are fast and she is easily able to regain her feet without burning her rear.

Jumping back to her feet, she brushes off her rear and turns to the Half-Ogre. Giving him wry smile she says, “it’ll take a little more effort to fool me again.” She lifts the seat cushion up and pours the mead Drakul gave her on the hot skillet. She walks to the bar and grabs one of the bar stools. Dragging it across the floor she returns and sits down. “Now then, I believe you were telling me about your family?”

The dwarft plops down on a stool, a little mead sloshing out of a tankard. "Whoopses Ah needs tah be careful an not be spillin' mah drink." He takes a long pull from the other tankard, draining it. "Did ah ever tell ye aboot tha taim ah nearly saw tha Laird of Thoonder himself? *HIC*" The dwarf had clearly forgotten that the two of them had just met.

"Haha! I still got you!" he said, almost falling out of his chair laughing. "You’re just too quick!"

When he finally recovered from laughing at the Elf, Drakul sighed and raised his flagon to her.

"You’re a good sport, I’ll give you that. Hard to find people who can handle a good trick these days."

He pondered the question of his family.

"Family is an intriguing concept. I’ve found family everywhere I go, but who they are is somewhat of a mystery. Like the plumes of Odin’s crows to Fenrir after Spring’s first dew."

"Indeed, it is quite the travesty to waste good mead." Brandaelfr heartily agrees.

Eating a bit more stew, the Eldhud says between bites, "You haven't told me yet about it, but that sounds like a great day to me. Where were you? Please continue!"

She raises her eyebrow as though she is confused by Drakul’s answer, “so what your saying is you don’t have any family?” She waves the waiter down and asks for a glass of water. “So where are you headed? Surely your life doesn’t consist of playing tricks on unsuspecting patrons at crappy inns.” The waiter comes up at that moment bringing her her water. He obviously takes offense to her words as he gives her a dirty look and storms away. After sniffing the water she looks back up at Drakul, “I’m headed somewhat on a quest of my own. I don’t need any help but you’re welcome to tag along, you know, if you don’t have anything better to do.”

"What I’m saying is, My family doesn’t have me," said Drakul. "But also, my family finds me."

He smiled as if that should answer everything anyone would need to know about his family.

"I will be trekking North, so I can accompany you along the way. Only the Lord of Mischief himself knows what the trek shall hold."

An old man in traveling clothes had been nursing an ale long before any of you stopped at the tavern, he sets down the tankard and stands up, "You lot look like just the sort of people I'm looking for!"

It is unclear if he is talking to any of you in particular, but he hobbles to the middle of the room pulling out a rolled up parchment from his pack. He rolls the map out on the center table and says, "I know of a tomb up in the mountains nearby, where was buried a great chieftain from Nordlond who fell in one of the many ancient battles that took place in this pass. If any were bold enough to claim it, great riches could be had there!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:52, Tue 02 Oct 2018.

The dwarf pauses mid story and put down his mead. "Yer interuptin' ma story, Ah ain't tha least bit interested in yer chieftain and his fancy britches"

Whether or not the man was talking to her, she assumes so and is filled with pride that she’s grouped in with other the other heavy hitters in the room. Keeping her smile to a minimum and speaking up louder than the dwarf, “this chieftain, he was a well known warrior in Nordlond?”
This message was last edited by the player at 21:56, Tue 02 Oct 2018.

"Great riches I said Master Dwarf!" The old man says, "Indeed he was! Though his name and deeds have been lost to time, this map will lead you to his tomb and the treasure within!"

As the old man says that there is an earthquake that shakes the whole inn, knocking over furniture, taking down the ox head from the wall, and splitting open the floor.

Roll DX to remain standing

Just as the shaking subsides there is the sound of a horn from somewhere outside, then Zombies begin crawling out of the floor towards a pair of travelers and the wench that was refilling their drinks.

5 Zombies crawling out of the floor will be ready to attack next turn, 5 Zombies are milling about the courtyard outside.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:45, Tue 02 Oct 2018.

"A Dwarf saying no to treasure?" said Drakul. "I knew it. All Dwarves are greedy my left pinky. That's what they want you to think. Just a distraction from what's really going on."

When the ground started shaking, he grabbed his knives instinctively.

"What did I tell you! Distraction!"

The Half-Ogre slashed at the nearest zombie.

DX roll: Critical Success.
Fast-Draw: Both Success.
Attack: One Success.
Defend normally, or take 6 cutting damage.

Brandaelfr somehow manages to stay on his feet as the earthquake hits. He had just risen to go listen to the old man, and said loudly to Dagrak, "Riches, not britches!"

The Eldhud grabbed his halberd to help steady himself against the quake, and then noticed all the zombies crawling through the floor. He cries aloud, "Gather on me, everyone! I can hold them at bay with the power of the Allfather!" Brandaelfr brandishes the halberd above his head and concentrates on turning away evil. The halberd thrums with power.

Concentrate. Turning is at 18 and is a QC with each opponent that can see him. Success by 4, 10, 7, 1, 5 with Rule of 16.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:45, Wed 03 Oct 2018.

"GREAT RICHES! WELL WHY DIDNAE YE SAY SO IN THE FIRST PLACE!" The dwarf suddenly looked focused and sober. The tankard was set on the table, and just in time, as Dagrack needed both his hands to grab the table and stay on his feet. "Storms and sausages! Tha undead air attacking! Hey you with tha prehty weapon! It's taim ta get busy!" He concentrated and cast a spell.

Cast shield 4

HP 12/12  FP 12/16 ER 0/3 Spells on: 1, Buffs: Shield 4
This message was last edited by the player at 00:42, Wed 03 Oct 2018.

Though she wobbled, she managed to avoid falling off her stool. Upon hearing the horn she leaps to her feet and a good thing to as she sees the undead crawl out from the floor. "I can finally put my training into action” , she thought. "If there’s a horn, there’s a horn blower and whomever is blowing that horn is probably responsible.” She bolts for the stairs and begins running up them full speed.
Stay Standing: Success
Perception (Hearing): Success by 3
She’s headed to whatever room would have a window to the front courtyard.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:24, Sat 06 Oct 2018.

Mildly interested in this new arrivals story, Mog continues to sit at the bar and drink his mead, figuring he could wait to hear the whole story before signing up. Once the earthquake started however he quickly jumped to his feat and readied his weapon just in time to see the undead appear. He quickly runs at them slicing as much as possible.


Success:DX to stay standing, Committed Attack
Damage 10 cut to closest zombie

Fergurth runs up the stairs.

Mog chops one of the zombies.

Drakul's slash almost finished it off.

Dagrak casts a spell on himself.

Brandaelfr turns all five zombies.

---

The zombies pull themselves to their feet and scramble away from the power of The Allfather. Brandishing their clubs and rusted swords, the zombies retreat takes them toward the bar, where the innkeeper and a servant cower terrified, "Help us! Please!!!"

Zombie 1 HP: 1/17
Zombie 2 HP: 17/17
Zombie 3 HP: 17/17
Zombie 4 HP: 17/17
Zombie 5 HP: 17/17
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 01:58, Sun 07 Oct 2018.

Drakul charged after the fleeing zombie and took a couple slashes at it.

Move and Attack: Fail.
Movement: full speed following the wounded zombie.

"Thet is ah nifty trick laddie, but Ah thought ye said thet ye killed tha undead!" He drew his mace and stepped towards the zombies.

Mog charges after the fleeing zombies and continues hacking away at their backs




Success: AoA:Double
12 and 8 cutting damage to closest non-damaged zombie
Move: run up to right behind the zombies.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:39, Sun 07 Oct 2018.

Brandaelfr just grimaces at Dagrak while taking two calm steps forward. The Eldhud stops concentrating. Instead, he viciously brings his halberd whistling down on the skull of an unharmed fleeing zombie twice.

Turning lasts 5 turns starting now

Telegraphic AoA Double

• Move forward 2 yards. With Reach 2, that should easily put him in range of a zombie that gets no defense.
• Unless the zombie has eyes in the back of its head, Brandaelfr does 14 and 12 cut to the skull with armor divisor 2.

Making it to the top of the stairs, she continues running toward the room in the front of the house.

Fergurth runs down the hall.  2/3

Mog follows the zombies and keeps chopping.

Drakul runs forward and waves around his knives.

Dagrak readies his mace.

Brandaelfr neatly chops two zombie skulls in half.

---

Several of the zombies are cut down on their moaning march, the remaining zombies are still fixated on the brainkeeper and the serving brain cowering behind the bar.

Zombie 1  HP: 1/17
Zombie 2  Dead
Zombie 3  Dead
Zombie 4  HP: -7/17
Zombie 5  HP: 17/17
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:22, Sun 07 Oct 2018.