Xin shrugged at their charge, "Brave..." He swung his mighty fist once again, missing but the sheer devastation his strength still caused was concerning, "But foolish." He continued to mow down and dwindle their numbers.

14:19, Today: Xin rolled 15 using 1d20+12 with rolls of 3.  Attack.

14:19, Today: Xin rolled 5 using 1d8 with rolls of 5.  Fray.

The villagers, all tied and bound in various ways, tried hard to avoid the conflict before them, as Xin continued to beat the bestial buggers into submission.

And the skirmish just became ridiculous, at this point.   Comedic, one might say ... as the hyena-men, scared and angry and confused began simply falling over themselves in conflicting efforts to get at Xin, or away from Xin, or ... well, it was hard to say, really, what some of them were trying to do.
     - rolled 5 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 1.  Attack Xin.
       A natural '1'.   Im not going to make another Moral check just yet, instead, I'm going to say:
The creatures were so unhinged and uncohesive now, that several of them, in their antics and desires to attack or flee (or both simultaneously, in some case) managed to simply harm their fellow Mongrel Men.

A spear jab here, an uncalculated sword swipe there ...
    They were hurting themselves just as badly as Xin was.
     Mongrel Men take an additional 1HD damage from their own 'friendly' (incompetent) fire.


Mongrel Men small mob down to 22HD.

Xin knew all of his fights weren't going to go this well but it was still very amusing to watch. Possibly too amusing as he missed another attack from stifling his laughter.

21:56, Today: Xin rolled 18 using 1d20+12 with rolls of 6.  Attack.
21:56, Today: Xin rolled 6 using 1d8 with rolls of 6.  Fray.

Eve the caged and tied villagers were heartened by this turn of events.
Until a minute ago, they were being brutalised and herded by these savage, weapon wielding beasts ... and now, someone had arrived among them whom seemed by far their superior in savagery, and the Mongrel Men were now scampering and screaming like the dogs they resembled.

The hyena-Men were now chaotically, yet incessantly attack Xin, as though driven by some primal, pack mind ... attempting to mob and swamp him, to over come him by sheer force of number.
       - rolled 17 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 13.  Attack Xin.
It wasn’t working.

Xin was simply destroying them ... throwing them around like rag dolls.   Like the proverbial lion against the hyena pack, they didn’t stand a chance against him.



Mongrel Men Large mob  now down to 18HD

Xin just wasn't having it from the upright canines, cutting down the group to a baker's dozen. He had honestly lost count of the amount he had already taken out. He could see the end and it was nigh.

19:02, Today: Xin rolled 32 using 1d20+12 with rolls of 20.  Attack.
19:04, Today: Xin rolled 11 using 1d12+4 with rolls of 7.  Damage.
19:05, Today: Xin rolled 5 using 1d8 with rolls of 5.  Fray.

Wow, a natural '20' now; again in Xin's benefit.   Lets see if this breaks the little bastards.
- Mongrel Man rolled 4 using 2d6 with rolls of 1,3.  Morale 9.
it seems not.   But something has to happen.   How about this ...


As the bloodshed continued, it reminded Xin of a story he'd heard long ago; about how fishermen would chum the waters when sharks were around ... and it would drive the sharks into a feeding frenzy within which they would begin feeding on themselves.

While the bestial, Mongrel Men were swarming him, just going crazy with some kind of battle-driven bloodlust, they were attacking each other also ... and the chaos that ensued was mayhem.

- Mongrel Man rolled 23 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 19.  Attack Xin and each other.
- Mongrel Man rolled 7 using 1d8+1 with rolls of 6.  damage to Xin.
And even though Xin was throwing these things around like rag-dolls, and snapping them like the proverbial twigs ... it didn't stop the sheer onslaught of crazed, wounded animals.
He felt a sword find purchase into his thigh, and a set of fangs sink into his shoulder from behind.

But it wasn't just Xin taking damage from the beastmen pack, and two among their own number fell to the sheer brutality and frenzy of their fellows.
Xin takes 2HP damage; but the Mob also takes 2HD damage.




Xin is currently on 8HP.
The Mob of Mongrel Men is now down to 11HD.

Things were getting crazy but as long as their focus was on him or themselves, he felt like he could make it through the worst of it. He grabbed the mongrel that bit him and slammed him into the one that caught his thigh.

01:13, Today: Xin rolled 25 using 1d20+12 with rolls of 13.  Attack.
01:13, Today: Xin rolled 7 using 1d12+4 with rolls of 3.  Damage.
01:13, Today: Xin rolled 1 using 1d8 with rolls of 1.  Fray.

- rolled 5 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 1.  Attack Xin and each other.
... a Natural ‘1’ !     I think that is as prophetic as it comes.
This combat is over: and Xin to focus on doing ‘what comes next’


And even as Xin casually tossed these few around, the hoard of bestial soldiers descended into a blood lust of self destruction.
Now, no longer concerned with Xin or the villagers, the beast men were simply turning upon themselves in a frenzy of self hatred.

Some ran, some blindly attacked their brethren ... and so many of them died.

Xin was easily able to extricate himself from the insane skirmish, and could focus on getting villagers to safety.

Xin shook his head as he stepped away from the chaos. He's not exactly sure what happened but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He did wonder if the mongrel men worked for their master willing though. They too could just be slaves ut right they were the enemy and others needed his help more.

He moved over to the wagon, beginning to free the bound villagers, "I wouldn't worry about them anymore."

It was possible that the mongrel men might not work willingly for the Lord of Flies, but either way, looking at them now, Xin was left with the image of a rather pathetic race of creatures.   Angry, submissive, immature creatures that seemed destined to be abused and tossed aside by some uncaring god who probably used them as the two west form of servitude.

As the last of the mongrel’s viciously attacked each other, or turned tail and ran, Xin was able to release the villagers.
And they were very grateful for his rescue: many hugging him, with tears, or thanking him profusely.

While the mongrel men were pathetic, they were bestial and aggressive ... and armed.  The villagers hadn’t actually stood a chance against the hyena-men, and many had died resisting the creatures.   Some successfully fled.  But many more had been rounded up, with the evident goal of transporting them somewhere.


An hour later, there was no sign of living mongrel men; just the littering of dead bodies all about the village.
As Xin had released the villagers, they had in turn released more ... and those who’d fled into the rocky hills had returned.
Now, what was left of the village community miller around looking at the destruction and bodies, wondering what they were to do next.  With so many of their number dead, it would be hard to make this community productive.  And they had no idea what to do with all these dead bodies.

More than a few sets of eyes were turning towards Xin, looking for guidance.


Xin was now several days travel out from that small port town of Cazak’s Crag; and both the villages that he’d come across were similarly desolate and desperate as his home ... but the disease here, that was slowly festering down from yonder mountains, was a disturbing difference.

Looking up into the mountains, Xin wondered about this ‘Lord of the Flies’:  Lagren, they called him, a god of disease.
Who’d sent hyena-men to round up and gather humans ... for what purpose?
What was it he was striving for?  What was he trying to achieve?


Regardless, Xin had to make some decisions.
Would he stop to aid these people? Or simply move on?
He could take charge here; he sensed that these people would follow his lead.  Or he could attempt to create a gathering of leaders from among them, and help them make some decisions of their own.
The wagons that the hyena’s had brought were a fantastic resource, should they decide to move ... perhaps back to the previous village that Xin had encounters, with the hope of integrating there ... or perhaps even as far as Cazak’s Crag?

Xin smiled as he shook his head, as the people hugged and thanked him, I'm really not gonna make my deadline at this rate.

There was really no choice to it in his mind, he was going to help them. The best choice was just a little less obvious this go around. He didn't think the last village could support a sudden influx of people but it was definitely free of disease and injected with a new spirit of hope and life. At Cazak's Crag, Xin still had its leader to deal with and while easy for him, no telling what the inhospitable environment would do to regular people. Long travel was out for the time being, Here or back...

"We need to bury your dead, move the mongrels if not burn them and take stock of what and who is left. Then, you can mourn for those who have passed. On the morrow, I'm sure you will feel better and we'll be able to decide on the next step." With the Xin, began gathering the mongrels and moving any debris that was too heavy for anyone else. His plan was to cure the disease that plagued this village once his effort returned until then he could only fix their bodies.

The rest of the day was spent clearing the village, and cleaning up.
The wagons were collected to one side of the village; and the weapons from the mongrel men pulled in one cart.   Their armour was a mish-mash of scavenged armour, badly altered to fit the hyena-folk.  Additionally, as I’ll kept as it was, there was little of use to humans.

The enemy bodies were piled in a rut far outside town, by hauling them in a wagon for about an hour.
The bodies of the fallen villagers, however, were collected, and examined by the village adults.   If they showed any signs of the ‘Padding’ disease, the body was hauled far from the village and left with others ... in fact, at that first mass grave site that Xin had stumbled upon when he came into sight of this village. 

Any bodies that seemed clean of the disease, which was most of them, were reserved for a proper burial closer to the village, in its traditional ‘resting ground’.

The village had accepted Xin far easier than the last had, possibly due to his efforts that had rescued them. In fact, he was much more than accepted, he was welcomed ... the villagers showing immense gratitude to their saviour.

Come evening, a village meal was prepared.   And, as Xin had suggested, the mourning began.
And while Xin was still welcomed among them, he now felt apart from them somewhat: for even as their ‘savior’, he wasn’t one of them, and hadn’t lost anyone important to him during the attack.

When the villagers started to move the diseased bodies away from the others, he told them there wouldn't be a need for that. In the morning, they would find that weight would be lifted and they would soon have a choice to make about their future. He still needed to know who could do what among them and what they had lost but since the mourning had begun, he would wait until morning.

The night was awkward.
The villagers were in morning for their dead ... but also, although glad for Xin's presence, unsure who this young man was.  And as the evening pressed on, that suspicion slowly grew ... though not enough to overcome their appreciation for what he'd done.

Of course, Xin didn't need to sleep, but the villagers did ... and they desperately needed that rest.
The night was long, left effectively alone in a strange village for a night, with nothing to do.
        Please feel free to describe what Xin does during the night

The morning's light invigorated Xin's divine spirit, and he felt all his Effort return to him.

Xin continued working through the night, digging graves, moving bodies and rubble. Whatever manual labor the village needed to be done was done by sunrise and when it came, they would find their home and dead free of disease. He had also worked the fields and did most of the morning chores. For a farmer's son, it was a familiar and comforting routine.

The sheer amount of work and chores that our tireless and Mighty hero could achieve during the night was staggering to comprehend.
When the village arose the next morning, they could barely comprehend what this unusual visitor had done for them.

These were a shattered, but not broken, people.   Overcome by loss, and having been terrorised and witnesses bloodshed beyond their experiences just the previous day, emotions were both dulled and confused.
But they recognised with gratitude what had been done for them by Xin; yesterday and during the night.
He was, in every way, their saviour.


Having cleansed the village of plague and disease, Xin had once again felt the plagues source as coming from the mountains yonder.
          And now that he has, you could spend one of your Dominion Points* to Decree through your celestial might, that the village will remain that way. 

The ‘plague’ that was spreading from yonder direction seemed to be a combination of disease ... the common cold, and other ailments.   They were not so much driven outwards from the mountains, but more encouraged, and fed.
BUT there was an unusual  one among them, he sensed: something that was unnatural to this world.   Maybe a disease specifically engineered by this ‘Lord of Flies’.

He remembered the corpses he’d seen earlier the day before ...
It was this disease that was not natural to this world ... and Xin senses that while it didn’t rely on the other earthly diseases, it rode in their wake, taking advantage of people’s ill health and lowered immunity.


As the village awoke, and were surprised to find Xin still among them (and the work he had done), they found themselves heartier and healthier ... and happier.
And they showed Xin their gratitude through offerings of food and friendship.  Among them, he saw Suzette and her daughter moving; as well as the boy who’s mother had been arrow-shot (although she was lying somewhere else, recovering from her wounds, undoubtedly).

With his celestial might, Xin did just that. No longer would this village be plague but he did have a nagging feeling to now examine those plants in the cemetery. He would kindly refuse their offering of food, they would need it more then him but friendship was always welcomed.

Still, he needed to check on the boy and his mother. In all of the turmoil, he had nearly forgotten and that barrier that was protecting them. He made have found another like him. He would approach the young one, extending his hand, "I name is Xin, may I know your's?"

The kid was impressed with this mighty stranger ... but still, Xin was a stranger, and so the mid’s enthusiasm was tempered by great caution.
“Virson”, he replied, to uncertain to shake Xin’s hand though.

Xin guesses that Virson was maybe 8’ish.   Independent enough to be about the village himself, but still young enough to need his mother’s attention.  Xin saw no father figure hovering nearby.

“Are ... are you a monster, mister?”
The thought did t seem to bother Virson; so long as Xin was their monster.

Xin couldn't help but smile at the innocence of a child, "Maybe..." He could understand that misconception. He didn't know any human who's skin could turn blades, hands that could tear through men, "But I don't know a lot of monsters that can cure the sick and end diseases. A better question is, how's your mom and did she put at that barrier? Or was it you?" He's genuinely curious if the was another like him.

Virson looked up at Xin with a squint of curiosity.
Then, indicating behind him with a thumb, he said, "Mam's over in Cheril's place.  She ain't supposed to be doing anything, or getting many visitors, see.  And Cheril's taken care of where thems dogmen shot her.   Even I get shooed out of there mos' of the time".

Then, with a cocked head, he asked, "Could you break a tree in half with your bare hands?
Preston says you could break a tree in half with your bare hands"
It seemed that young Virson felt that one good answer deserved another.

Meanwhile, Xin noticed that he was becoming somewhat stalked by the children of the village, who were watching from veiled and out of the way places.  Even now, two small faces peered out from behind some barrels nearby, and another kid was peeking around the site of another cabin.

Xin simply nodded, waving to the kids hiding, "Yes I can. Now, hopefully, I can be one of those few visitors." From there, he made his way to Cheril's home.

There was no-one to prevent Xin from entering.   In a village like this, any news spread quicker than disease.  And if Cheril had said 'no visitors', then nobody visited.

Xin found the front door closed, and the eyes of those nearby watching intently to see what he would do.

Xin would simply let himself in if this door was unlocked or knock if it was. He wasn't going to rip the door off its hinges.

The door was unlocked.   In truth, in a village like this, it was unlikely even to have such a mechanism.
Everyone here knew each other, and nothing happened that wasn't seen by someone.

The interior was darkened; while the sun shone brightly outside, heavy curtains held the daylight at bay, mostly.

As Xin's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he began to take in the huts layout and furnishing: sparse by efficient, with extra tables around the walls, apparently as workspace for ... herbal efforts?

Movement to his right caught his attention, and a woman rose from a chair there, quietly demanding, "I said no visitors.  Who's that, anyway?"
It seemed that with the door still partially obscuring him, and the sunlight behind silhouetting him, the woman hadn't identified him yet.

"No one really, just the man who saved the village," Xin stepped out from the shadows. "I just wanted to know if you made that barrier."