Jok looked at Faaid with a wan expression. He couldn't deny the logic, but it didn't touch his heart. True it might be that the legion took their orders from higher up and the military code did not permit a soldier to only obey orders they like, but the legion here and now were an easy and tangible target. No doubt there was some distant officer responsible for the deployment of legion forces. That officer might even be a good man who went to bed each night tormented by having to stretch the too few troops under their commands over so much territory, and who cursed the senators who stripped down the army year and year. But Jok and his fellows would never know.

When Aleesia took the stage - which was nothing grand, but a slightly raised area with a worn stool - the din of the room died down in anticipation. Every eye was upon her, and the music was welcomed heartily. Some of the tension in the room eased away as the elf became the focus of the attention for those in the room.

Lyn waited a few bars as the elf strode across the room. She watched her stride carefully and took careful notes of all the information available from the moment she drew back from the touch to when she sat upon the stool comfortably.

Her face, however, only beamed joy as she bounced from her chair after the first notes came strutting into the room. Smiling, she was a few steps behind the elf in approaching the stage, but she did not step up onto it. Instead, she let the elf play through the series of standard notes once to get a feel for the woman's style. As she did, she moved among the crowd meeting eyes, trailing fingertips along arms and tabletops. Slowly, using various tricks, she summoned what attention she could. Finally, still moving among the crowd, she started to add her mezzo-soprano voice to the harmony. A stumble her and there in the first notes was masked carefully as she adjusted to the lute and the elf's playing.

Finally, after a second time through the series of notes that constructed the tune's body, she started into the first verse.

Ahvylyn Brightsong rolled 94 using 1d100+60.  Singing. Not sure of success level as I don't have my book.

An old story with many versions, the lay told the story of a hero during the times of the last war. Thrymm was a common man in every version, but his race and profession changed from region to region. Lyn had made a point of learning most of the versions. She chose the local version as the hero started a farmer but ended a soldier on the walls during the last siege. Here and there, during stanzas, she met eyes and smiled. She moved among the soldiers during the stanzas where Thrymm fought valiantly and, later, when eh returned home to his family. To the farmers she addressed early stanzas where the hero struggled to wrest his crop from the earth.

She herself, never stopped in one place long though and drew their attentions around with her. Anywhere but the stage. She wanted the music in their ears not their eyes. Let their eyes feast upon her; let them release their mind's eyes to her voice.

Only once she had arrived at the final stanza where the soldier died upon the walls thinking of his family did she stop in front of the stage to sing in a bright clear voice choked with emotion. As the last note rang among the rafters, she collapsed upon the edge of the stage with her hand over her eyes. Beneath the hand, she grinned mischievously up at Aleesia. Very little of what Lyn ever did was an accident.

Finally, after an appropriate time, she stood up and swept into a graceful curtsy then motioned for Aleesia to join her but was deliberate and careful to avoid contact.

As Ahvylyn wandered through the room and gathered attention, she succeeded. The eyes of all were upon her, and as she sang in tandem with Aleesia's playing the room calmed even further. It may not have reached the group quite so deeply as she wished, but it was clear that the performance forestalled violence for one night.

At the end of the performance, the room erupted in hoots, claps, and cups banged against tables.

The choice of tune made Lek melancholy, and that group got up and decided to call it a night. They left without incident, however, but Jok stayed behind and approached Faaid while the rest of the room cheered for Ahvylyn and Aleesia to play another. They chanted for the 'Ballad of Bonnie Billy Brewer.' It was a common enough song that it existed in some form or another wherever Men dwelt. The ballad had an easy, predictable beat and tempo and the rhyme structure was simple - anyone could easily play and carry the tune, which made it a sing-a-long favourite. This probably accounted for how popular it was.

Jok gave Torstein a sideways glance, and noted the red cup that decorated his chest. But Jok did not say anything on that account, but focused on Faaid. "Good of you." He nodded towards the pair of performers. "Your drinks and theirs are on me for tonight. I'll leave word with the innkeep." Jok paused, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The gesture caused his sleeve to slip a little. "Come see me tomorrow at the general store at dawn." The man said quietly for Faaid alone. Then he nodded his head once, and made good on paying for drinks for Faaid, Ahvylyn, and Aleesia, passing a few coins to the innkeep and pointing the three out. The he left as well, without further incident.

Faaid is entranced!  The music, the dancing, the performance.  All of it.  His jaw drops in surprise.  He had heard the woman playing small tunes every now and then on the road, but this was an entirely different matter!  At the end of the first song he claps as hard as anyone, and joins in the cries for an encore.

It takes Faaid some time to break his eyes away from the performance, beautiful as it was.  At long last, he returned his attention to Jok.  "You and I have seen far too much darkness and violence, my friend.  It is time to bring cheer instead," is all he says to the man, nodding in agreeance to the meet.

The song brought on a sense of melancholy in Torstein. It was well played and well sung, but it caused the young man to regret many of the circumstances and choices of his life. He closed his eyes during the stanzas where Thrymm struggled to wrest crops from the earth. There was a strength and a courage in that life that Torstein lacked. There was some flaw in his mettle that did not allow him to be one of the farmers who fought every day of every season against the world and took all it would give. He did not have it in him to build for the future. Torstein did now sow for the harvest. He sowed to feed the ravens.

When he died, Torstein would have no family to think. None would mourn his passing or remember him in song. Perhaps, if the Source was kind, it would be a death that meant something. The heroes who died on the walls of Dros Delnoch tore the future of all Free Kins from the hands of the Pale Son of Night. It was a good death.

His mind was elsewhere when Jok stared at him. Torstein stroked the cup on his chest and pondered. He sighed, and rose from the table. He had no more stomach for company, and instead retired to his room for the night.

Aleesia was apparently content to let Ahvylyn enjoy the congratulations - and attentions - by herself. She nodded to the crowd to acknowledge them, but didn't move from her seat. She seemed quite happy to play the Ballad of Bonnie Billy Brewer - though she knew it under another name - and continued to play even after that. Either elvish songs that few knew in the region, or songs requested by the patrons though many times she had some of them hum some of the melody before she was able to identify what it was. Most of the time it was enough for her to identify what they were talking about and play it, but from time to time she didn't know the requested song at all.

When Ahvylyn wanted to participate in any given song, she let her take the lead with no second thought, otherwise mostly offering musical support to the songs requested. Only when she played elven songs was her clear voice really heard.

After a while she paused, if for no other reason than to have a drink. She was a bit surprised to hear that her drinks had been paid for, but gladly accepted it. While she was at it, she took a moment to finish her meal, then went back for an hour or so to play before going to bed.

15:50, Today: Aleesia Valhorn rolled 157 using 1d100+75.  [Challenging] Entertaining the inn.
Success

The performance was a rare treat for the villagers, and when it ended they left in much higher spirits than ever before. As Ahvylyn had a point of reference, the local performer had never garnered the reaction that she and Aleesia had that she had observed. It wasn't likely he'd ever been so well received or given a performance so touching.

But the night came to an end, and dawn came.

Atrocles was in something of a foul mood, as his apprentices all had to be rousted from their slumber by his save Persens, who was up before dawn preparing tea for the scholar. Although the would-be scholars were all grown men Atrocles drove them from their beds like children, and they grumbled like such at breakfast. Save for dutiful Persens, who was spared his patron's wrath. The breakfast was simple fare although Ahvylyn and Aleesia were treated to a choice meal prepared with more care than the others in gratitude for their performance and the upsurge in custom it brought.

Jok was curiously absent from the general store come dawn, and if any locals were questioned, none had seen the farmer since the previous night. None seemed concerned about his whereabouts.

It was two hours travel to the first site that Atrocles wished to inspect. It was the ruin of an old fort. Much of the stonework still stood, but it was covered with plants and it seemed to serve little purpose now beyond being a nesting area for migratory birds and the odd traveler, as evidenced by old campfires and others signs of past use. Atrocles gleefully set out with various tools of his craft and his apprentices joined with less enthusiasm but a surprising work ethic for spoiled academics.

They worked until midday, then halted for a meal. Atrocles and his apprentices seemed quite overjoyed at a pot they had dug up that had contained some tarnished brass and copper coins. Once more Atrocles grew sour when Persens was not at hand with tea. The youth had gone into the woods to respond to the call of nature and his return was not heralded by the expected servile apologies that'd be expected. Instead it was with muted groans of dismay.

Because Persens didn't come back alone. The youth's arm was twisted painfully behind his back by a Man in a blue cloak who held a curved blade to Persen's soft throat. Persens was absolutely terrified and it showed on his face. Behind the Man in the blue cloak came four half-orcs - burly males in leather armor armed iron-bound cudgels with cruel sneers on their ugly faces. The half-orcs bared their fangs and stood tall with their chests puffed out. Cat-like eyes gazed with predatory intent at the survey party, tormenting the apprentices with their fearful and barely restrained desire for wanton violence.

"Now, here's how it's going to be," the Man in the blue cloak said, his voice very sure and calm, "I want coin. You're going to give me all you have, or this blubbering child dies."

Atrocles was beside himself. "O-of course! Just . . . just don't harm him!" The sage declared, ready to acquiesce.

For the past few weeks, those that have gotten to know the desert-born have seen him using bright clothing and colorful language to make a statement.  They have seen him put on displays of fast talking and dancing that have mesmerized.  But right now, Faaid does his best to disappear from view.  His posture reverts to a very unassuming stance, his hand moves towards his curved blade, and he slowly slinks off to the side.  His eyes dart back and forth from the Man in the blue cloak to his destination, looking for any sort of clue or cover that might help him in this situation.

The stonework proved to be a blessing, creating far less sound than softer ground would.  He feels confident in his movements, and takes a few more risks than he normally would.  After all, a boy's life was at risk.  His direction suggests that he is moving to a position behind the bandits, though the still-sheathed sword suggests restraint.

---

20:42, Today: Faaid rolled 90 using 1d100+40.  [Challenging] Sneaking on stonework in daylight.
Partial success on its own, but the manual suggests it be an opposed roll.

After a night of performing, Ahvylyn had been somewhat sated. As Aleesia had seemed up to playing the request, Ahvylyn had happily jumped in as well. The goodwill she had earned that night, as well as the adoration and coin, were well worth it. In fact, it was worth it enough that she had grown interested in the dusk elf and her companions.

Once she had learned of the scholar and what he was doing, that also interested her. Humans who researched history often confused her, personally. Then again, few had her perspective on history. She'd learned so many of the old songs by rummaging through libraries, yes, but she had also learned a great many from the oral traditions or, much more rarely, from elves that were there. Though she kept her heritage to herself, she had experienced much herself.

Still, this expedition intrigued her enough that her being welcomed along had been something worth embracing. Stories seemed to be available to learn and, if she was extremely lucky, they would be attacked by bandits and she might appease her ultimate goal in this area.

Ahvylyn has lazed about in whatever shade she could find. There was not a single scholar uppity enough to command her. She hummed a few tunes and sang a bit through the morning while they dug up pots.

Then, right around lunch, luck smiled upon her. The blue-caped man came out of the woods with a hostage. She noted the brightly-colored man suddenly disappear but only raised an eyebrow at the bandit. Slowly, she rolled and got her feet under her to stand up smoothly. She took a moment to shake her auburn tresses out behind her and then ran her hands carefully along the side of her head to make sure all was in its place. "Honestly, I ought to invest in a mirror. No handy river either. Shame" She then looked over to the men and sighed, "The boy means little to me. Perhaps the old man will pay for him?" She looked to Atrocles with a shrug, "But I've no interest. Keep him. I'm sure buggering him will earn you a few nights' entertainment. He seems awfully soft and... mm, pliable?"

She then smiled and her eyes narrowed considerably, "Anyway, I'll not pay a copper for him. And if you try to insist... I assure you that you will not be the first gelding I've made." Saying this she rested her palm on the hilt of the short-sword strapped across the small of her back.

Aleesia wasn't particularly fond of Atrocles, and she was glad she wasn't one of his assistants considering the way they were treated by the scholar. Of course, she had decided to follow the expedition, but it had been more by default than anything else: she didn't really want to stay in Greenvale since there was nothing for her there after all, which didn't leave many options.

Thankfully, nothing was asked of her, for the time being anyway, and she couldn't say she wasn't interested in whatever the academics could find: she just wasn't interested in doing the finding - and digging - herself. Which wasn't to say that she had just stayed somewhere doing nothing while everyone else was working. Or pretending to work.

No, she had in fact gone in the forest a bit, though never more so far that she'd lose sight of at least someone else for more than a couple of seconds with the goal of finding a nice staff. It wouldn't replace the one she had lost recently, but she managed after an hour or so to find one that would work, which she proceeded to enchant without feeling the need to make a spectacle out of it. If nothing else, because no one was paying attention to her in the first place.

She came back to the fort's ruins well in time for lunch, and was in the process of storing her staff in her bag when Persens came back from his own trip in the forest, having found new "friends" in the process.

She glanced Atrocles when he readily agreed with the bandit, and wasn't feeling the need to protest. If nothing else, his agreement allowed him to get back a few points he had lost previously. It was at least nice to see that he wasn't going to abandon his students like that. She was however clearly shocked by Ahvylyn's way of handling the situation. It could of course be just a bluff, but...maybe it was not.

Grabbing her staff as if her life depended on it, Aleesia...sat. And she started to sing an Elven Song, low at first, then a bit louder after a few seconds, obviously hoping to find some comfort there.

Though... From time to time, she glanced at the bandit who had his blade against Persens' throat.


00:18, Today: Aleesia Valhorn rolled 133 using 1d100+45.  Wizard's Staff.
Staff is successfully enchanted.

00:29, Today: Aleesia Valhorn rolled 110 using 1d100+60.  Song of Tranquility.
Target is the human, save DC 70 to resist.

Torstein took this turn of events with stoic reserve. He stood, and looked over the Man and the Half-Orcs present. It was obvious that they meant ill. How to best proceed was not so clear to the young male. He gave Ahvylyn a sidelong glance as she spoke with boisterous bravado. Persens' safety was the primary concern on Torstein's mind. Beyond being why he was present - and already the blond male felt guilt that Persens was in danger - the Code was clear. The Iron Code he swore to follow.

He fingered his coin purse. There was not much there, and Torstein did not consider it any great loss to turn it over. No, the conflict came from a very simple lesson: one did not turn away a greater evil by countenancing a lesser one. Giving in to the Man in blue's demands was acceding to evil. And the Iron Code forbade such. Evil had to be opposed. And this was plainly evil. It seemed, however, like the way that offered the highest chance that Persens would be released unharmed. However, was the Man in blue one who honoured his bargains? Surely no, if he acted thus.

"Be calm, Persens." Torstein said softly to the distressed student. The Acolyte's voice was strong and clear and there was a certain expression upon his face. Even though they were outnumbered in terms of fighters, Torstein was only afraid for Persens' life, not his own.

"Lower the blade. Let him go." The blond male said to the Man in blue.

17:10, Today: Torstein Svanir rolled 129 using 1d100+40.  Charisma. Goal is to inspire Persens and allay his fear.

Faaid's progress went unremarked by the hostile party - the Man and the half-orcs kept their attention on everyone else. He was able to move behind the group undetected while events played out.

The Man in the blue cloak seemed to waver for a moment as Aleesia, but he shook his head and snarled, twisting Persens's arm even further, causing the youth to yelp in pain. He resisted the Song of Tranquility. The half-orcs snarled and one of them beat their chest in response to Ahvylyn's threat.

Persens calmed and took heart from Torstein's efforts. His breathing slowed and calmed, although the look of panic did not entirely fade from the student's eyes. However, the command was not obeyed.

"I am tempted to slit this boy's throat for spite." The Man said, lips curling in frustration. However, he did not open Persens's throat but tossed him roughly to the ground after withdrawing the curved blade.

"You two, take the Cupbearer! You two, with me!" The Man declared, ordering his half-orcs into action. Two half-orcs to his right raised their clubs and roared, charging towards Torstein, and the other two did much the same, moving on Ahvylyn along with the Man.

Officially time for a fight. Two half-orcs are Charging Torstein, and the Man and two half-orcs are Charging Ahvylyn. The enemies are all unaware of Faaid, so he gains the benefits of that and is able to engage them from the rear. The defense for the Man is 25, is armored with a leather jerkin, and the half-orcs all have a defense of 15, and are armored with leather armor. The half-orcs are wielding short length weapons, and the Man has a hand length weapon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:00, Wed 06 Oct 2021.

Faaid maintains his distance from the Man in Blue, moving forward silently as well as drawing a short sword concealed slightly amongst his clothes (rather than his scimitar).  He uses the fray as a distraction, and begins creeping towards one of the two half-Orcs in order catch it unawares.  He pulls his headscarf over most of his face, muffling the sound of his breath as well as preparing to keep any blood out of his mouth.  Only his bright green eyes remain.

---

Half-Action: Move.  Faaid will move forward, following the Man in Blue.
Half-Action: Draw Weapon.  Faaid will draw his short sword.

Torstein drew his greatsword from its place at his back, and the familiar weight was a comfort. Now, with battle joined, there was no room or need for moral wrangling.

The blond male moved to intercept the Man in blue and the two half-orcs with him. He placed his body between them and Ahvylyn, making a bulwark of his huge body.

Half Action: Draw two-handed sword.
Half Action: Move to intercept Man in Blue Cloak and half-orcs, interposing Torstein between them and Ahvylyn.
If possible, full parry against any eligible attack, preferably one of the half-orcs.

Ahvylyn arched an eyebrow as the bandits attacked. There really hadn't been another viable route this scenario would take. Pursing her lips, she regarded the three charging at her. That kind of odds would certainly see her on the ground dying rather quickly. The auburn-haired woman looked left and right even as she casually slipped her shortsword from its sheath. It flourished in her hand as she took a couple steps backward.

Then the goody-goody charged between her and the assailants. That was to the good. Hopefully, he'd peel one or two of them off. Those type of odds favored her a bit more. Pursing her lips, she shifted her feet and moved closer to Aleesia, "Handy at clobbering with that staff, are we? If not, I'll see what I can do to buy you time."

Lyn then kept a close eye on the attackers while she prepared to parry any incoming attack from the first to reach her. She hardly expected Torstein to stop the charge of five men. She muttered quietly to Aleesia, "I'd love a nicely balanced dagger if you had one?"

Noticing her target shrugging the effects of her spell, Aleesia grumbled, obviously displeased. Thankfully, he at least hadn't noticed it had come from her. Still, that left her in a bit of a bind. To say that she would be completely useless in a fight would not be too far from the truth, which was evidenced when she shook her head - emphatically so - at Ahvylyn's question about hitting anyone with her staff: not only she wasn't sure the staff would stay intact, she was also pretty sure that she might have troubles hitting a wall in front of her nose…

Asked for a dagger, she handed her own, but it was clear she wasn't about to claim it was particularly balanced. And while after that she took her bow and nocked an arrow, she clearly didn't feel confident about her chances of doing much good with it.

So I guess that's:
Half-Action: hand dagger to Ahvylyn
Half-Action: ready her bow

Faaid's progress remained unnoticed, and he remained behind the group of bandits.

Torstein moving into the way had the effect he wished. He became the new target for the bandits. His huge sword parried the metal-shod club of one of the half-orcs, but the rest of their weapons made it through his defenses. Three clubs smashed into Torstein's body. Two were glancing blows but one was of some note. The curved blade of the Man in the blue cloak slashed and drew blood; this attack was delivered with more skill than the rest.

With the bandits engaged in melee with a focus on Torstein, it exposed the flanks of two half-orcs to Ahvylyn and Aleeisa, but posed a problem to Aleesia in that firing into it posed the risk of hitting Torstein with a misplaced shot.

There's two half-orcs who counted as being Flanked and grant +15 bonus to any attacks that Aleesia and Ahvylyn make against them, although for Aleesia, the enemies all count as having Partial Cover since they're in melee, which means +20 to their Def.

---

The Man in blue sneered at Torstein, showing contempt. "You're a fool, Cupbearer . . . but if you're so eager to be the first to fall, we'll oblige! Bring him down!" He said. A dark grin played across his features. "You won't be the first fool with delusions of heroism we've killed!"

Still, the Man in blue showed some caution and he was prepared to protect himself with his curved blade, attacking more with a mind to defense than the first charge. The half-orcs, however, attacked with nothing held back, and swung their metal-shod clubs with all of the strength in their brutish bodies.

Everyone's attacking Torstein this round. The Man in blue will Parry against Torstein, bringing his Def up to 55.

With practiced grace, Faaid drops to a knee and slices his blade into an area he sees unarmored.  The half-Orc, caught unawares, experiences the unbelievable pain of a sharpened blade thrusting through his leg just below the kneecap.  Had he been prepared, he might have been able to avoid the attack or force his armor in the way, but luck was not on his side today.

His weapon bloodied, Faaid returns to his feet and assumes a more mobile fighting stance, fully expecting the fury of one or two of his enemies.  He rotates his body to create less of a target, bending his knees and leaning slightly forward.  The blade points forward, ever forward, ready for yet another thrust.  And he remains silent.

---

Full Action: Melee Attack.  Faaid makes a Melee Attack with a Short Sword against one of the half-Orcs he is behind.  His weapon range counts as Long.
Result: 21 Damage and Strike to lower leg under the knee.  Tendons and muscle torn: +3 Damage, Stunned, and -25 to all actions

20:47, Today: Faaid rolled 121 using 1d100+80.  Melee Attack vs Half Orc (+30 Attacking from Rear, +20 Attacking a Surprised Foe, -15 Armor).
20:55, Today: Faaid rolled 82 using 1d100+20.  Critical Table (+50 Lethal).

This message was last edited by the player at 04:13, Wed 06 Oct 2021.

When struck Torstein did not make a sound. His expression remained one of stoic detachment, emptied of emotion. This was not enough to make him show an expression of pain. The curved blade cut his flesh and even this was not enough to elicit anything from him.

The words that the Man in the blue cloak spoke did not touch Torstein. It did not goad him into an emotional response. Something cold inside him stirred, but Torstein kept it chained within and kept a level head.

He gripped the huge, heavy sword in two hands and prepared to strike. The man in the blue cloak was his target. Cut the head from the serpent. Perhaps it would be the more intelligent course to strike down the half-orcs first and try to take the Man for information. The thought did occur to Torstein, but he chose to smite instead, bringing the great blade down in a brutal arc against the Man.

The heavy blade struck the Man in the blue cloak's forearm, opening a minor wound that wept crimson.

Half Action: Ready two-handed sword.
Full Action: Melee Attack Man in blue cloak.
21:20, Today: Torstein Svanir rolled 126 using 1d100+35.
Result: 17 Gri
21:22, Today: Torstein Svanir rolled 54 using 1d100+30.
Minor forearm cut. +4 Damage, 1 Bleed, and Stunned.
Total damage: 21.

Lyn watched the combat play out and felt a few twinges of sympathy as Torstein is pummeled by the bandits. She watches Faaid appear behind the bandits and smirks. It was a solid tactic, but the sneaking about part was risky. Still, she watched as the man delivered a rather nasty blow to the scion of the Pale Son and chuckled. Not seeing much else she could do, Ahvylyn darted in to attack one of the orcs which had left its flank open. She hisses as her blade scratches the brute and looks back to see how Aleesia would fair. "If you've some trick hidden in that staff, best get it ready. Else this mob will overwhelm us."

She looked back to the mob of bandits and bit her lip. She then eyed the walls of the ruins they had been investigating.


19:07, Today: Ahvylyn Brightsong rolled 82 using 1d100+25.  +25 blades, +15 flank, -15 armor.
Total: 6 damage since he wears light armor.

Unsure if the 'flanked' brutes are the ones Faaid attacked.

My bad, I read everything when I couldn't answer and forgot you were waiting for me after that :/

Aleesia glanced at Ahvylyn for a second, but quickly shook her head: her staff - or her stick... - wasn't particularly good as it was, but as far as actually hitting someone and do some damage... She was more likely to hit a rock and break her staff than inconvenience the half-orc.

Plus, she already had an arrow nocked on her bow. For a moment, it seemed she wasn't going to do much of anything with it, but in the end she breathed in deeply, then released her arrow. Which, maybe surprisingly, actually hit her target. It didn't leave a grievious wound of course, but it still did something...which was more than she had actually dared hope for.

16:57, Today: Aleesia Valhorn rolled 106 using 1d100+20.  Attack an half-orc.
Result: 12 Light

The bandit group was now aware of Faaid's presence, and his attack earned him a grunt of pain and roar of anger from the mouth of the half-orc he attacked. Blood stained the rough leather trousers of the half-orc and he was unsteady on his feet, leaving him vulnerable target for future attacks.

The Man in blue hissed and barked out a curse at Torstein, and spared a moment to give Faaid a death glare, but he could do little to retaliate after the attack upon him from Torstein.

Three iron-shod clubs struck Torstein, but one strike was completely negated by armor. The other two struck and inflicted damage, hammering hard but without other consequences.

The other three half-orcs were shaken by the turn of events, but they did not attempt to retreat. Instead they continued to bear down on Torstein, aiming to take the large warrior out of the fight.

I'm going to treat Ahvylyn and Aleesia as attacking the same half-orc. The Man in blue is going to parry against Torstein, bringing his DEF to 60. The half-orc Faaid attacked is going to Parry against Faaid, bringing his DEF to 35. The half-orc Ahvylyn and Aleesia attacked is going to parry against Ahvylyn, bringing his DEF to 35 against Ahvylyn although he still counts as Flanked by her so she does still receive a +15 to attacks.

The three half-orcs who are not stunned will attack Torstein this turn again.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:18, Sat 09 Oct 2021.

This time I won't forget!

Now comited, Aleesia didn't hesitate and reloaded her weapon, then fired once more at the same target: she figured one enemy down would be better than two slightly injured.

This time however, her arrow stuck itself in her target's armour without managing to pierce it at all.

21:34, Today: Aleesia Valhorn rolled 74 using 1d100+20.  Attack half-orc.

Having been discovered, Faaid takes his more flamboyant fighting stance with a single blade held before him.  Though his curved blade would be more effective, he was more than competent with the shorter sword.  The half-Orc attempting to parry any attack coming his way was shaky, not only because of the leg would but also from surprise at the attack.  Faaid can use this to his advantage.  He fakes a strike to the bandit's uninjured side, causing him to lean out; just as quickly, he twists back to the other side and slices out with his blade, catching the half-Orc along his side.  Using the edge of the sword Faaid is able to slice through the leather and leave a serious laceration behind.

---

Full Action: Melee Attack.  Faaid makes a Melee Attack with a Short Sword against the same half-Orc as before.  His weapon range counts as Short.
Result: 11 Damage and Slice through Side: +5 Damage and Stunned.

12:53, Today: Faaid rolled 102 using 1d100+30.  Melee Attack vs Half-Orc (+45 Blades, +20 Stunner, -35 Defense).
13:00, Today: Faaid rolled 71 using 1d100.  Critical Effect (Superficial).

The blond warrior kept a stoic face as he was struck. The iron-bound cudgels struck him, and he felt the impact of all three although his armour dispersed the blow of one. The other two took their toll, and Torstein was in a state where lesser men would be out of the fight or worse.

But he carried on in silence, without any indication that he was hurt. He readied the heavy blade in his hands and swung at the Man in the blue cloak. Even with the injury to his arm the Man in blue managed to parry and turn away the huge sword, leading to a blow that deeply cut the Man's thigh and inflicted another bleeding. More blood flowed from this wound than the one inflicted upon his arm.

Being cursed at was merely words in the wind; it did not phase the Acolyte any more than a light breeze might.

14:03, Today: Torstein Svanir rolled 139 using 1d100+40 with rolls of 99.
14:03, Today: Torstein Svanir rolled 68 using 1d100 with rolls of 68.
Max Result 175 40 Let

14:04, Today: Torstein Svanir rolled 31 using 1d100 with rolls of 31.
Deeper cut to thigh. If the target's wearing leg armor: +3 Damage. If not, +6 Damage, 3 Bleed, Stunned, and -20 to all actions.
46 total damage.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:58, Sat 09 Oct 2021.