Faaid takes a step towards Abtin, the desert-man who had emerged from the trees and shadows.  One hand rests gently upon his sword, the other hangs limp.  Looking at Abtin, Faaid's head cocks slightly.  "That is a question Faaid has asked himself with every setting of the sun.  It is true that Faaid betrayed his family.  It is true that he turned his back upon his people, with a blade still wet with blood.  So if family is what we trust in most, then yes, it was justified."

Only a moment passes where his eyes soften with memories, before hardening like flint.  He spits his words out with the rage that his companions had seen growing over the past few days.  "But our family had turned their backs upon our purpose, our creed, our duty.  Ancient oaths we have sworn to for generations.  Older than blood.  It is those Faaid chosen to follow.  And so his banishment was unjust.  That is what Faaid chooses to believe.  It is what he must believe."

He looks to the ground for a moment before raising his head with flames in his eyes, daggers shooting from his gaze.  He looks upon Abtin, his cousin, with an intensity that does not fit with the lackadaisical storyteller his companions knew.  "And you, cousin, you who still bear your name.  To what will you swear your allegiance?"

Abtin was taken aback by Faaid's words and the fire in them. Whatever he expected, this wasn't it. He looked solemn, but he stood his ground and didn't shy away from Faaid's gaze. "I am torn between the old oaths and the oaths to my family." Abtin admitted, and empathy for Faaid's position showed.

"I desire only to be a man my father, wife, and son can look upon with pride." He was silent. "I will join you, for a time, for I no longer believe that I can be such a man and consort with ar-Gohl. If we defeat him, I will return home. And if we do not, I shall die." He shrugged.

"I was prepared to hate you. But I see you now and I know that you have not forgotten the face of your father." He sighed. He looked over at where the other was hiding, but he was gone now. "It saddens this one. But Farzam always favoured anger."

A nod acknowledges Abtin, the fire still in Faaid's eyes.  It had been far too long since he had gazed upon his father last, but the memory of the disappointment and betrayal still pained him.  The empty space where Farzam had stood was a stark reminder of what he had been through, and the emptiness in his heart where family once stood.

"Come then, cousin, and let us be a tribe together once more.  Let us prevent ar-Gohl from his accursed deeds, and reclaim the honor of our people.  But you must know, we will fight him with the honor that our people have lost.  This man, this noble warrior, will show us the way."  Faaid looks upon Torstein with a look somewhere between curiosity and admiration.

If Ahvylyn heard Torstein uttered phrase, she did not react. The appearance of Faaid's cousin and their interaction though had her eyes rolling rather hyperbolically. "Honestly, why do I even bother with the stories? Nothing seems more dramatic than real life. Could I even, with a straight face, write anything more dramatic than that?" Still, though her words were mocking and her tone dripped sarcasm, Ahvylyn was smiling rather genuinely at the scene.

As that seemed to be settled, she surveyed their group and nodded briefly. The addition of another sword would aid their chances against this band they tracked. Unconsciously, she reached back to adjust the short sword sheathed crosswise in her back beneath her pack. She then turned her eyes northeast along the line that she had seen the magically cursed trees. "I cannot say, with any certainty, if each tree was poisoned itself or if the source is mystical and general. A poisoning of the land or some other source that reaches out to the trees. I'd say we move that way but keep our minds as open as our eyes and ears as we do so."

Ahvylyn was still rummaging through the memory palace of her mind but it was now so old, crowded, and vast that it often took her time to move through each room. Too, doing so made her sad as she had long ago and far away chosen the bleak fortress where her start had been made as her palace. Thus, she remembered its each stone as precisely as if she was still standing upon them. She was sure the fortress now stood quite differently, but the aged mental image she carried served to remind her of the oath she had taken. Sighing heavily, she moved north and east.

“Uh…” Aleesia looked at Ahvylyn then the spectre, then back to Ahvylyn, “I…don't think joining their fight means dying…” There had to be a whole ritual to bind someone to the tree after all, right?

After which, the young elf got distracted for some time by the drama between Faaid and his…friend? Clan-mate? When it seemed to have reached a conclusion, she shook herself, and glanced guiltily at Torstein, “Yes, joining, I'll tell him.”

Despite that, and having turned to the spectre, she didn't say anything straight away. She looked…hesitant. Finally, in such a way that it was very clear that while she understood what was being said to her, finding the right words to say what she wanted was more difficult, she managed to relay Torstein's declaration, “He agrees to join you on this fight.”

She glanced around at the others for a second, before adding, “And if there's something we can to help, we will try.”

Although the white crow seemed pretty much indifferent to Aleesia's efforts, it did take wing and land on her shoulder after she spoke to the spectre. The bird made no sounds, and it only stood on her shoulder for a few moments before it took wing again. It flew over Ahvylynn and towards the half-elf's ultimate goal.

The spectre bowed its head. "There is wonder-working power in the blood, for those with the fortitude to pay the price." The spectre said, its words ancient and formal. Then it gave an agonized cry and its spectral form dispersed violently in all directions. The terrible, agonized wailing continued without form to anchor it, but was cut off in tandem with the sound of a tree falling in the distance.

Abtin looked at Torstein with a dubious expression, but he didn't say anything against the warrior. "Perhaps it is good to stride forward like a lion; skulking in the shadows like a serpent for too long has made our people too comfortable in the darkness." The dusky skinned man said. He moved to follow Ahvylynn, and his footfalls made no sound and he left no tracks, disturbing neither fallen branch nor leaf nor any sod below his foot.

The small group made their way forward, and they were watched the entire way by members of Faaid's former tribe. These hidden warriors merely watched, and allowed it to be known they were watching. Some directive stayed their hands and caused them to allow themselves to be seen observing the group.

The path that the group followed took them to the tree they heard falling before. This tree was almost wholly blackened and rotted with corruption as it lay on the forest floor. Foulness wept from its stained and broken bark onto the earth below and the air was heavy with a tangible feeling of wrongness. To look upon the tree in this state was to know in one's soul that something pure and good had been befouled.

The trunk had broken, and around the stump was evidence of a profane ritual involving bloody sacrifice. The bodies of nine bandits, Men and Half-Orcs, lay in a rough circle around the stump. The faces of the bandits that could be seen revealed that they had died in terror and pain.

ar-Gohl stood near the stump, and his face was daubed with dried blood. There was a spark of madness in his eyes, and despite his advanced years he looked and held himself like a man in his physical prime. Beside him was a corpse in battle-damaged armour and clothing, marked in blood with runes. It was Grondstein's body, animated with loathsome and dark magic. A semi-transparent shadow overlaid Grondstein's form. It was of a warrior in ancient battle-plate wielding a grand sword. The shadow flickered every few beats of the heart, at times growing more solid only to lighten again.

The Star Elf from Aleesia's 'memory' was there as well. He looked exactly the same, untouched by the passing of time. A white robe covered his body, and in his hands was rune-etched staff of ash. A ring of carved and polished hematite decorated the ring finger of his left hand, and a somber look was on his face. The white crow was nearby, and it was picking over the corpse of a bandit. The Star Elf looked at Aleesia and his somber expression turned into an amused smirk.

TO say the absolute least, Ahvylyn was unconvinced by much of what was going on around her. Still, it would make for a fabulous story one day, so she committed as much as she could understand and as many details she didn't understand as possible to a room in her memory palace. Pulling out drawers, twisting knobs, and scrawling notes on pieces of paper made the trick feel comfortable. The fingers of her off-hand twitched in the motions needed to write the notes as a mnemonic trick. It was old and familiar.

Walking along, the silent permissive warriors caused her to be well aware of a bead of sweat hovering between her shoulder blades. This could go badly, quickly.

The sight at the fallen tree made her heart sink. Some haughty looking star elf, or was the haughty part her bias, and a high man, what looked like blood sacrifice, and a possessed corpse. A corpse wielding a grand sword. Oh, she did not like the implications of that at all. "Gods above and below, this looks dangerous."

"Thank you, Aleesia." Torstein said softly. He was taken in by the drama that was shared between Abtin and Faaid and he felt empathy for the two. He could not quite relate to the depth of separation that lay between the two but Torstein knew well enough the strife that arose between brothers.

Twice now Torstein was marked out as a lion, and he felt uncomfortable with the appellation. He was not some great, proud beast. Perhaps greater humility was warranted. Equally, he felt uncomfortable with the look that Faaid gave him.

Nevertheless, he shouldered it and carried on. Ahvylyn was the first to move forward and he moved to catch up with her.

When the desert warriors made themselves known Torstein drew his greatsword. He was ready to fight, but it set him ill at ease that they eschewed the stealth that marked their comportment. It felt like they were being led into some trap, but there was no other course that Torstein could think to take in this matter. He was not afraid, though he worried for his companions who valued their lives more than he did.

It was all that Torstein could do not to roar and descend into battle frenzy when they came to the site of the fallen tree.

He looked over to the warriors who watched. Torstein met the eyes of each of them. "Hear my words, warriors. I am sworn to oppose to Evil, and I see it before me. Before battle is joined I would know where you stand. I know Faaid; he is blood of your blood and I know in him flows the blood of men. So too is Abtin a man. Your leader, ar-Gohl, stands with strength bought by blood and dark sorcery, and it is not the strength of his father and his forebearers. This is strength purchased with the coin of his soul, and of yours, if you allow it. Perhaps you may think it is too late and there is no hope for you. But you are not so lost that you may not yet be found; there are none the Source abandons.

"And you, my Brother. If there is aught of you left . . . fight. Death is no release from the Code. Our ancient Brother carries on the battle with the foe, and in his mighty company we must not be found wanting." It was hard to see his Brother ill-used in this manner. It was hard because so many times Torstein was the one found wanting in Grondstein's eyes.

Torstein is using the Charisma skill to try and sway the desert warriors to their side, and to reach anything Grondstein if there is anything left to reach. Spending a point of Drive for the +10 to Skill, Attack, and Save rolls for the scene.

15:30, Today: Torstein Svanir rolled 150 using 1d100+50.  Charisma enchanced by Drive.
15:30, Today: Torstein Svanir rolled 13 using 1d100.  Exploding die.
Total result: 163

Where Torstein was able to refrain from crying out in rage, Faaid failed.  He takes in the scene before them, sees ar-Gohl covered in blood.  A humming fills his ears, a blanket of darkness around everything and everyone but his hated foe.  Torstein's voice mumbles words that he barely takes in, only just recognizing the purpose of his speech.  But his blade is drawn, and inside his chest a fire grows out of control.

"Black Hound of the Witch Queen," he spits out with fury and disgust, "You stand amongst your brothers and cousins, perverting our ways.  You stand before Faaid, who spoke out against you; who crossed blades with you so many years ago.  But you will stand no longer.  Faaid will put you down like the dog you are."  His eyes are wide and wild, and his free hand moves to cover his face sans eyes with a scarf.

Aleesia grinned, obviously pleased, when the crow alighted on her shoulder. Though her smile slipped as quickly as the crow left, which led her to instead grumble under her breath for a couple of seconds.

When the spectre disappeared she looked horrified. “We had better hurry...” Despite that, she made sure to stay towards the back of the group, though she did take her bow in hands, an arrow ready to be knocked: she didn't have any illusion about how useful she was going to be with that. It would still be better than her magic, but...that wasn't exactly saying much. Or at least, nothing good...

What waited for them didn't do anything to alleviate Aleesia's fears - and disgust - but for a moment she focused on the star-elf she recognised. Not so much surprised that he had survived for so long, but that he was here. Even though the presence of the crow could have been quite the hint. What visibly puzzled her however, was the smirk: what was that for?

Aware of what was going on around her, she still asked looking at the Star-Elf, “Who are you? Why are you here?”

Torstein's speech, against big odds, managed to reach the desert warriors. It worked on the same points that Faaid used to sway Abtin. ar-Gohl had gone over the line and he'd gone past what these men were willing to put up with. The promises made to them weren't enough for them to put up with the evil deeds ar-Gohl had his hands in.

Only Farzam didn't move to stand with Faaid and Abtin. Instead he moved to stand near ar-Gohl, but not too close. Despite picking the old man Farzam still didn't trust completely in the older assassin.

"We see now that we buy only gilded chains and slavery for our people with the coin of our pride and our souls. We are with you." One of the desert warriors said. He was a spokesperson for all. The answer was to Torstein's speech, but he looked at Faaid while talking.

Grondstein's mouth opened, and two terrible screams answered. One of them was a man being tortured, and the other was a maniac's insane scream of joy.

ar-Gohl only laughed at Faaid's words. The madness in his eyes made it hard to tell if he'd understood anything Faaid said to him. ar-Gohl didn't bother to cover his face, even though he was wearing a scarf too just for the purpose.

The smirk fell off the face of the Star-Elf's face when Aleesia asked her questions. He stroked a particular run on his staff and looked at her with a sad expression.

"Who? Not an easy question to answer, and any answer I gave would be . . . pointless . . . at this juncture." The Star-Elf said and his voice carried a lot of things that went unspoken. "As to why I am here? My current master commanded me to free this . . ." he gestured with distaste at the possessed corpse of Grondstein, "and so I have."

Faaid, his eyes locked on ar-Gohl, strides forward with the cool ferocity of a wildcat.  His curved blade hangs from one hand, the other clenches in a fist nearly tight enough to draw blood.  Much of his and ar-Gohls' expertise lay in slaying the unaware; it was possible this was the first time the man had actually considered fighting with "honor".

"It is time for us to settle this.  It is time for me to finish what I started.  One of us will die here and now, ar-Gohl.  The Gods will decide.  And should they choose me, at least I die for my people.  Come now, dog, and fight."

Though the other desert warriors came to his side and spoke to Faaid, he ignores them.  Though Farzan stands by Faaid's foe, he, too, is ignored.

---

OOC: Faaid is spending a point of Drive to get +10 to Skill, Attack, and Save Rolls for the scene.

Ahvylyn relaxed considerably as the odds in terms of numbers swayed their way. At least one dynamic of this situation wasn't against them. She felt the smooth handle of her short sword beneath the tip of her finger but did not yet free it of its shackles. Yes, certainly, she had taken time to train herself in its use with the elven way of fighting, but she never liked to do it. Glancing at the elf and the possessed human, she somehow doubted this would end peacefully.

Even as she mused over some possibilities, she saw Faaid stalking toward his opponent. IF a duel was what was in the offing, she was also find with that. She glanced sideways at Torstein and pursed her lips, "I think this is between these two, yeah? We can wait our turn, right?" She hen shifted her vision back to the star elf and raised an eyebrow, "Current?" She waited for what would happen next.

Aleesia blinked, obviously unsure of what to make of the Star Elf's answer. How could an answer be pointless? Well, unless you didn't even try anyway, or answered anything but the question that had been asked. With a grumble, she commented “I can't say I'm particularly fond of that master of yours.” Even though she had no idea who that was.

After a glance in Faaid's direction showing how unsure she was of how much of a good idea a duel was going to be, she looked back at the Star Elf and asked, an eyebrow cocked, “So... Did your master tell you what to do after you freed that?” She paused briefly before adding, “Could I convince you to put it back where it belongs?”

Torstein nodded his head solemnly. "It is for them to resolve." Although he prayed for Faaid's victory, he was concerned that whatever magic was afoot gave ar-Gohl undue advantage.

For the moment Torstein remained where he stood, but in his heart he could not conceive of a resolution that did not involve shed blood.

"I served other masters in the past." The Star Elf said in an airy voice. He looked at Aleesia as he said these words. The Star Elf shrugged. "After? No. There was the implication that I should return for further instruction . . . but the Witch Queen was preoccupied with affairs she considered of greater importance."

He canted his head left and then right, and looked amused. "If you knew the right words, you could convince me to do just that." The Star Elf admitted. "If you knew the right words, you could do it yourself."

Grondstein's body took a step forward. The ghost overlaying the body waxed, growing larger than the body it covered and the sword in hand raised high. "Torstein! I . . . I cannot . . . !" Grondstein's tormented voice sounded. It was silenced by an ancient war cry, and the dead body advanced forward. The ghost form waned, shrinking back down, and the advance became a plod.

ar-Gohl drew a long, curved blade and swung the blade. It struck at Farzam, who fell to the ground, grasping his opened throat. The warrior had a moment or two to gasp as his life faded. He died with an expression of horror upon his face as ar-Gohl laughed an insane laugh. He spoke no words and moved forward towards Faaid.

ar-Gohl is wearing the equivalent to leather armor, and has a defense of 45.

Whatever ar-Gohl thought his display would cause, it only helped to strengthen Faaid's resolve.  His eyes wince for a moment before growing in a rage.  His blade curves as an extension of his arm, held back as the desert man leans forward and charges into the fray.  Faaid unleashes years and years of anger and shame upon his former mentor, holding nothing back.

---

22:37, Today: Faaid rolled 112 using 1d100+30.  Melee Attack: Charge (Skill + Drive + Charge - Armor).
22:42, Today: Faaid rolled 16 using 1d100+10.  Light Crit (Cut).

Actions
Full-Round: Charge

Results
13 Damage and Minor Calf Wound: 1 Bleed

OOC: Faaid is unarmored, and has a Def of 32.

"You can, Brother." Torstein replied softly. He raised his great sword and saluted his fallen Brother. "You must. The Code demands no less. You sipped of the Red Cup and swore to uphold the Code." He spoke softly and with some sorrow.

The blond warrior looked over his shoulder and looked at Aleesia. He wondered anew what mysteries she contained and what she secrets she held. But the enigmatic Star Elf seemed to know more than anyone else present, he also seemed disinclined to make a revelation.

Torstein turned his attention back to his Brother. He readied his great sword and charged. The blond warrior swung, with the fullness of his martial prowess and strength. He owed his Brothers no less, and with Evil before him, there was no other choice.

---

23:55, Today: Torstein Svanir rolled 191 using 1d100+110.  Charge (Blades), +10 Drive.

Not sure what Grondstein's Def is, so I must impose upon you to resolve any Crit that may arise for the moment, GM.

Ahvylyn watched the men charge into combat and couldn't help, once again, rolling her eyes at their motives. Honor and vengeance were well and good in stories, but she had seen the desperation of the hopeless and neither honor nor the promise of revenge had assuaged their defeat. Still, men needed something to live for. She stood for a moment slowly pronouncing ancient words she had learned long, long years ago and mentally singing a picking song as she glanced from the desert man to the possessed paladin. Finally, she glanced up to the canopy of branches above as she felt the magical energies flow from her and weave into the frame of her form. She lolled her head onto her shoulder to glance at Aleesia, "Hey, we all need to learn sometime. Don't die this day an, mayhap, you'll know more next time."

Then she focused on the maneuver ahead and got herself a running start. Just below a branch she performed an impossible leap and twist. It looked, for a second, as if she crouched upside down beneath a branch. She glanced at Torstein with a grin then launched herself. Speeding through the air, she flipped again to land behind the creature facing off against the paladin, "Don't mind me, lads. I'm just here for the looting." Then, wary of the possessed demon she now flanked, she took a purely defensive stance.


Spend 1mp to Leap. Positioning to flank the possessed brother. I assumed we were still in the forest.
Putting all my attack bonus into parry targeting Grondstein.

The injury that Faaid inflicted didn't even appear to register with ar-Gohl. Not in any way one'd expect. And maybe for a good reason: the wound knit before Faaid's eyes, and the flow of blood halted after only a few drops flowed. This wasn't to say Faaid'd done nothing. The wound didn't completely close. But it didn't bleed the way it should.

ar-Gohl laughed, and swung his sword in return, but it didn't have the skill and precision expected of the master behind it.

The thing that made Grondstein's body move waxed. It seemed to cry out in silent defiance as Torstein tried to encourage Grondstein to resist. Torstein's sword struck the neck of Grondstein. The remnants of the dead warrior's armor in that area was destroyed, and it probably would've taken the head off of a living being. But this wasn't a living being. Torstein's sword was immediately covered in black, ichorous liquid where it struck Grondstein's possessed body, and a chill ran up the steel. It was intense enough that Torstein could feel it in the hilt.

A ghostly face turned Ahvylyn's way, lifting up from the corpse's neck and twisting to look her way. It shrieked without sound, and there was a sense of rising menace. More might've happened, but one of the desert warriors flung a project at the dead body. The ghostly face whirled at the man, and the desert warrior shrieked in terror. Then he grasped his chest, over his heart, and fell stiffly to the ground.

Grondstein's counter to Torstein was swift. The dark sword of the dead being struck Torstein's thigh, inflicting a considerable cut that would've been a lot worse without armor.

ar-Gohl didn't hurt Faaid. He rolled . . . poorly.

Grondstein did 17 damage to Torstein. Grondstein downgrades crits against him by 1. His defense is 40.

Faaid continues his assault on ar-Gohl, but quickly finds his former mentor quite difficult to strike.  And the way his body refuses to keep bleeding... it must be a boon of the Witch Queen!

Only a moment exists when Faaid is able to find an opening, and his overeagerness leads to sloppiness.  His blade barely nicks ar-Gohl, and he curses under his breath.

---

17:09, Yesterday: Faaid rolled 67 using 1d100+10.  Melee Attack (Skill + Drive - Armor).

Actions
Full Action: Melee Attack

Results
Faaid deals 2 damage to ar-Gohl.

“Well, it's time to look for another master I'd say, the current one sounds…subpar.” Aleesia answered tartly to the Star Elf, but she was obviously distracted by what was happening around her.

She looked…unsure through it all. Even if this hadn't been a duel - or a pair of duels she supposed - combat was definitely not something she excelled in. But when one of the desert warriors fell on the ground, she decided it was something she could try to help with. Not that she was an expert - or even much of a healer - but she might be able to help, so she acted.

13:42, Today: Aleesia Valhorn rolled 48 using 1d100+40.  Healer.
Great…

13:44, Today: Aleesia Valhorn rolled 108 using 1d100+80.  Healing (static, touching, improvised).
At least that succeeds, but not sure it achieves much of anything…

Torstein's brow furrowed as he felt his blade grow cold. He managed to keep from dropping his weapon, but the sudden chill of the steel bespoke magic that he had never before encountered. This would not, however, dim his resolve.

Internally, he had to admit that it took a great force of his will to hide the terror that gripped his heart to see the ghostly presence shriek silently and cause a man to fall as if mortally struck.

He grit his teeth and swung his sword again.

---

21:08, Today: Torstein Svanir rolled 89 using 1d100+40.  Attack Grondstein. Adjusted with Flanking that comes out to 104

Apologies, GM. I must prevail upon you again as I unsure what armour type Grondstein has. If it is light then 11 damage, medium 9. If it is heavy, then 7.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:11, Wed 05 Jan 2022.

Ahvylyn was a bit flush due to the rush of leaping such am amazing distance as well as the flow of magic through her form, so she started to probe the defenses of the warrior to her fore with her short sword. In relatively quick order, she discovered that her limited weapon skill could find no holes in that defense. Grunting sourly, she shifted her tactics to defense. Just because she could see that she could find no openings in teh possessed warrior's defense, didn't mean the warrior knew that. As long as she could pretend to be a threat, it would give Torstein an advantage in the combat. As she wove in and out of combat though, she searched her own person for ideas. She regretted having given the dagger back to Alesse and not find a few of her own. She'd need to remedy that situations soon.

---

Ahvylyn;s attack is ineffective this round, so no need to roll. Hell, rolling would be dangerous anyway. Hmm, don't have any daggers to toss though. So, not doing anything to Grondy-boy except providing flank which makes Torstein's weapon one step longer for initiative purposes. Blah.

The Star Elf spread his hands outwards and gave as small shrug. His inclined his head to indicate that he agreed with Aleesia. He looked a little amused at her expression of uncertainty. He followed her to where she went to help the desert warrior. The elf fell easily into step with Aleesia, matching her pace with an uncanny familiarity.

From his robes, he pulled a leather pouch, and held it by the strings for Aleesia to take. "There are a variety of medicinal herbs herein. The Red Star herb should help . . . it appears the Man's heart stopped from fear."

The desert warrior that Aleesia was working on seemed afflicted by exactly what the Star Elf said. He was not breathing and had no pulse, but Aleesia's efforts managed to force the body to work and eventually its natural rhythms re-asserted themselves, albeit weakly. He seemed stable for now, but he was very vulnerable and would face a long road to recovery.

Faaid and ar-Gohl circled one another, and the pair lunged. Their movements were not easy to follow with the naked eye. They were just that fast. They struck one another with their curved blades, putting everything they had. Faaid traded any sense of self-preservation and defense for a killing blow, and there wasn't anything left in ar-Gohl to think of anything but dealing death. The blades of each pierced the other's hearts, and they fell to the ground, locked in an embrace of hatred and death. Faaid reaped the harvest of vengeance; a bitter vindication for Ahvylyn's eye-rolling sentiments.

Grondstein attacked Torstein with fearsome strength, and once more the grat black sword struck true. Another deep cut to the thigh for Torstein.

A voice whispered in Torstein's ear. "The battle on the spiritual plane goes poorly, Brother . . . allow me to join you in the physical realm, before it is lost."

Torstein takes 27 damage.

Grondstein has a Defense of 40, Crits reduced by 1 step, and counts as wearing medium armour with protection to the chest, arms, head, and legs (neck protection destroyed in a previous strike). It is non-Rigid.