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>Back from the dead!

Warlord Quest is back! I have refined the story a bit in my absence and done some serious world and setting improvements. Quest will be a bit slow at first while i get up to speed again but bear with me.

>Archive
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Warlord+Quest%2C+Warlord%2C+WarlordQm%2C+Collective+Game%2C+Fantasy%2C+Arch+Magnus

>Twitter
https://twitter.com/CursedQm?s=09

Last time on Warlord we continued our march with Dagmar and his cuntish lackeys. Wren was dispatched on his scouting mission against Crescent Hall. We settled on the strategy of raiding the outlying villages to draw the defending garrison out into the open. We broke from our nights camp and began the third day of our march through the Valley of the Moon.

>Character List incoming
>>
>>2646930
>Basic info sheet on the setting
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1F40nnzNO8nrTbjUP-49m_ygMyNok-elalwBLVxyUhnc/edit?usp=drivesdk

>Magnus's Character sheet
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1tMFQUUS6Tg-HUqIntR-_5ANsHLwh04muOBGwQpg10y8/edit?usp=drivesdk

Both text heavy but there you go!
>>
>>2646930
Wellcome back
>>
>>2646938
Well and good to see you again.
>>
Good to see you back in action.
>>
>>2646930
Nice. It's me, you're number one stalker.
>>
Thin sunlight cuts through the canopy of the trees overhead as you march through the forest. If you were part of a smaller raiding party, you would be able to move along the roads and be free of this mess of brambles and tangled vines. For the tenth time in as many minutes, you kneel, gripping a vine and wrenching it apart with both hands as you scowl. Urhost chuckles behind you as he hacks away at the undergrowth with one of his heavy shortsword, the honed blade shearing through the plant matter with ease.

"Don't worry Magnus! Only twenty more miles!"
He laughs as he follows up behind you, the near single file line of your men behind you stretching back hundreds of yards. While your more heavily armored warriors struggle with the terrain, your skirmishers and raiders find the march much easier, being unburdened with the layers of armor. You wipe a line of sweat from your neck and take a swig of lukewarm, mildly bitter water from a skin and grimace.
"Which one of you is carrying me then?"

Arvel spits onto the path, wiping his lips with a massive, broad knuckled fist and snorts
"Think Dagmar and his greasy fuckers picked this way on purpose. 'M fuck'n dyin'. No reason t'go through the thickest patch'o nonsense in the valley"

>Respond (What say)

>Its just a hard march. You've done it before (Timeskip)
>>
>>2646946
>>2646953
>>2646956
Good to be back!
>>2646960
Nongent inspired me to get back off my ass
>>
>>2646964
who's nongent?
>>2646962
Silence, it's been a lot of talking. We should operate in quiet.
>>
>>2646972
Nongent is the dude who ran the Side story. One of the oldest of the /Tg/ oldfags
>>
>>2646962
Well point 1 is his a dickhead
Point 2 his pissed
Point 3 you said it yourslf no one would come though here makes it easyer to sneak in
Point 4 itl make the look on his face eveen better when we take his crap and have to make him admit we saved his sorry ass
>>
>Stealthy Oper8r

>List of points

I need a tiebreaker folks!
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2647021
Rollan
>>
You tiredly shake your head and smirk to yourself as you retreat into your own thoughts. The last thing to do when youre on a hard march is to run your mouth and waste breathe that's already hard to come by.

Ahead of you, Dagmar and his rabble of raiders laugh and joke, cursing and stomping through the brush as they make their way along the game trail.

>Roll me 1d100 to see how the days march goes
>>
Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>
>Link to discord so you can ask me questions and see when I post. I actually prefer to keep discussion in thread however.
https://discord.gg/k69J7rD
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>2647060
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>2647060
glad to see ur back qm, the quest was missed
>>
>85. Clear sky and clear trails.

It seems your earlier displeasure with the path is ill founded as you crest a small rise in the trail, finding it clear of obstacles and the depressingly pervasive tangled vines. The path is hard packed by hooves, the ancient trees overhead providing shade while a refreshing breeze swirls through the forest. You roll your neck and shoulders, adjusting your burdened pack against your back and resuming your practiced march.

One step ahead of the other.

>Hours later

The sun has set, the early fall clouds obscuring even the stars and moon, casting the forest in impenetrable darkness. Even Dagmar and his rabble have taken caution, their fires banked low and ringed with stones. Crude shelters and tents of skins and cloaks are erected quickly, the tired Crag Wolf raiders quickly tearing into their nightly meal.

Urhost leans against a tree trunk, carving a chunk of wood into a small figurine. Arvel snores nearby, his feet kicked up on a fallen log, using his pack as a pillow. Dagmar and his cronies sit around their campfire, passing around a skin and speaking in hushed tones. Dagmar catches you looking and nods, turning back to his men.

>Speak to Urgost

>Follow Arvels example, get some rest

>Speak with Dagmar

>Take a walk around the camp

>Other
>>
>>2647150
>Take a walk around the camp
>>
>>2647150
>>Follow Arvels example, get some rest
>>
Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>2647060
>>
>>2647162
Let us walk the camp.
>>
>>2647162
Take a walk, take in the sights.
>>
>>2647150
Take a walk around the camp
>>
Maybe we might find a bear or deer to kill
>>
You lever yourself out of your comfortable spot against a decaying stump and stretch. Cramped muscle and tendon pop as the tension of the day is forced away. Urhost nods at you, blowing splinters off of the small figurine, whittling a crude face onto the wooden chunk.

Striding over Arvel's sprawling bulk you walk along the outskirts of the camp. In the darkness beyond the fires, the sentries stand in the shadows or crouch in the low hanging branches of trees.

Men snore and snort in their sleep, leaning against tree trunks or sprawled beneath lean-to's and makeshift tents. The smoke of burned grease and damp wood swirls around the camp like mist, the cool night air drifting across your face. Crickets chirp in the darkness, somewhere an owl hoots as it scans the forest floor for prey. The moon hides behind layers of wispy clouds, obscured in vast stretches by the impenetrable canopy.

>Check on the night sentries

>Continue your walk around the camp

>step forth into the darkness of the old forest

>Other
>>
>>2647225
Check the sentries, have they seen or heard anything strange while on watch?
>>
>>2647225
>>step forth into the darkness of the old forest
>>
>>2647225
step forth into the darkness of the old forest
>>
>>2647225
Into the darkness we go
>>
>Into the Darkness
>Roll me 1d100 pls because raisins. First roll only
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>2647289
>Raisins.
I've got a bad feeling about this.
>>
>>2647290
>MFW
>>
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>>2647290
>>
>>2647289
Did we leave/keep anything with us?
>>
>30.

You step forth from the ring of sentries, the dimly flickering light of the campfires quickly obscured by the pillarlike trunks of the ancient trees. So complete is the darkness that the sentries never even notice your dissapearance, simply fading into a shadow between footsteps.

Leaf mould crunches under foot, the musty odor of organic decay tingling your nose as step after step leads you in a wandering path away from the camp. Crumbling wood falls into dust under your boot as you follow a path only your seem to know. Behind you, suddenly far behind you, the light of the campfire grows ever dimmer, only the faintest of glimmers between the encroaching tree trunks.

The dark has no terrors for you however. Men who have yet to see the darkness of the abyss fear the stygian blackness. You have glimpsed the eternal dark and this mortal umbra has no purchase on you. The gruesome scar winding across your forehead and brow, curving down over your eyesocket and cheek tingles as a rustle in the layers of detritus ahead of you, behind you, all around you. You grit your teeth, your hand on the pommel of your dagger as you peer into the impenetrable darkness.

You see...

>A shadow moves, black on black, a shape without form or substance.

>A slim figure, delicate limbs draped in vine and leaf.

>A shaggy haired beast, strange in proportion and size.

>Other
>>
>>2647332
>>A slim figure, delicate limbs draped in vine and leaf.
>>
>>2647332
>>A slim figure, delicate limbs draped in vine and leaf.
>>
>>2647332
>>A shaggy haired beast, strange in proportion and size.
>>
>>2647332
>A shaggy haired beast, strange in proportion and size.
>>
>>2647332
>A slim figure, delicate limbs draped in vine and leaf.
>>
Your eyes strain against the oppressive darkness, a faint figure slowly resolves itself. Your eyes narrow and you grip the hilt of your dagger as more and more details present themselves to your eyes.

Eyes the color of autumn leaves, golden brown and flecked with crimson, slit pupiled like a snakes. Skin tinged green with chlorophyll, darker green veins twisting underneath the delicate covering. Hair that resembles long summer grass and thin vines, hanging down low enough to brush against a waist garbed in a skirt of overlapping sheets of bark, the material shifting like a skirt of mail. Small, curving horns jut from under her hair, the color of dried and seasoned ironwood. Across her chest is an array of vine cords, strewn with the skulls of small animals, packed so densely that the skin beneath is visible only in narrow strips. Dark green lips pull back from teeth pointed like the fangs of a cat and the apparition smiles coyly at you, standing just out of arms reach.
"A child of Heroes? In my forest? Marked with the essence of the slayer of gods... Marked by the Destroyer and touched by the Devourer... Curious that the first to visit my court... Fallen that it is... Is you..."

The scar across your face tingles as you regard the nature spirit. The trees around you creak and groan, branches shifting in a phantom wind. The ground around her feet, hooved like a deers, sprouts a myriad of teeming mushrooms as she paces around you. Reaching out with a slim green arm, her slender fingers tipped with curling talons wave gently, a curious smirk across her angular features.

>What say?
>>
>>2647403
Lemme smash
>>
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>>2647419
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>>2647419
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>>2647403
Hello. My name is Magnus, may I ask your name?
>>
>>2647403
"Magnus. You missed my name. Let me see if I can glimpse your soul so easily. Woman of the forest, daughter of cliff jumper, slayer of small animals. That I could view your court as it was, temptress. At least you have not yet faded."
>>
>>2647441
>Manners
>In warlord quest

Boi
>>
>>2647403
>has q bunch of animal Skulls
Oh good she's not a hippy. Ask her of opinion of the fake moon goddess. Also ask if she wants to go hunting.
>>
>>2647455
Murdering in the woods. I like it. I support this. way more in character.
>>
>>2647461
It'd be cool if we could made a Bro out of her.

>>2647432
Gonna add ask her if she has any weed. It's 4:20 somewhere.
>>
>>2647403
Spit on the ground.
>>
You step back, keeping your eyes fixed on the nature spirit as she halts, dragging a single clawed finger down the trunk of a tree, a branch groaning as it flexes. Moss spreads from the point of contact as she watches you, her eyes fixed on yours as the tree shift and creak.

You clear your throat, hooking your thumbs into your belt and speak
"You missed my name it seems when you peered into my soul mistress of the forest. I am Arch Magnus, War Leader of the Crag Wolves. I would pay dearly for your eyes, to have seen your court when it was at its height."
You incline your head respectfully and continue.
"I couldn't help but note the bones and trophies you carry. I would be honored to hunt with you Lady of the Trees"

The Spirit laughs softly, a sound like wind in the trees, water over stone and the crackling of dried bones as she taps a claw against the onyx dagger tucked into her skirt of bark.
"You flatter me Son of Doom... My court was once a lively place long ago.. Before your ilk came.. Before *HE* rose up and brought fire and Ruin upon us..."
She smiles widely as she draws the dagger, tapping its knapped edge against her finger.
"You offer to hunt? I doubt we would pursue the same quarry..."

She turns away from you, pacing along the small clearing, fhe soil shifting as roots twist underground, a drop of shining ichor falling from her nicked fingertip to land on the earth. She regards you from the corner of your eye as the air around you grows heavy and thick, the smell of decay and wet earth filling your nostrils. Her voice echoes slightly as her eyes narrow, a single white fangs pressing against a dark emerald lip
"Why are you here Child?... What is your business in my domain?"

>Flattery (what say)

>War (what say)

>My business is my own (Defiance)

>Other
>>
>>2647463
>Adding a dryad to the waifu pile
I see you've played the other warlord quest
>>
>>2647526
I thought I would find something interesting in this forest, and I have
>>
>>2647534
>>2647526
>>Flattery (what say)
I like how both of these play out.
>>
>>2647526
>War
Right now? Just a midnight stroll and enjoying the crisp air. Later? The daft moon cunts.
It's none of my business if the god of man fucked your shit up, but if you want a fight then it's a fight you'll get.
>>
>>2647531
>Assuming this piece of ass is waifu-able

Fly you fools! This ass is beyond any of you
>>
>>2647531
A warrior waifu would be cool.
Which other Warlord quest?

>>2647526
I'm switching my vote to flattery.
>>
>>2647537
No ass is impossible to reach if you truly make the effort. Though, if we had some knowledge before hand the attempt of seduction would be easier.
>>
>>2647538
Orc Warlord quest, it was amazing and filled to the brim with Waifus aplenty
>>
>>2647540
And hardcore rape
>>
>>2647526

> War

> "The sons and daughters of the moon gave me this scar and brought my life to an end once. I intend to return the favor, ten thousand times ten thousand times over until the last of the false godesses's altars lies shattered beneath my feet. Aid me in my quest and I will do my best to restore the glorious splendor of your illustrious court, this I swear upon Vall, greatest of men."
>>
>>2647539
>Other (challenge) "Ive come here on my own will, and come here for as much as I can know. Are you so ill of character to reject good company away so soon? Too withered to hunt, or has it just been too long since your soil has been tilled, woman?"
>>
>>2647566
Dayum
>>2647575
Fucking keked hard Nongent
>>
>>2647579
We gonna best her then pound her?
>>
>>2647604
Y not both at the same time
>>
>>2647566
>>2647535
I vote for both of these together.
>>
>>2647566
>>2647575
I'd support a synthesis of both;
>Other (challenge) "Ive come here on my own will, and come here for as much as I can know. Are you so ill of character to reject good company away so soon? Too withered to hunt, or has it just been too long since your soil has been tilled, woman?"
"Hear my story of the hunt while you consider."
> "The sons and daughters of the moon gave me this scar and brought my life to an end once. I intend to return the favor, ten thousand times ten thousand times over until the last of the false godesses's altars lies shattered beneath my feet. Aid me in my quest and I will do my best to restore the glorious splendor of your illustrious court, this I swear upon Vall, greatest of men."
---
I'm pretty sure its Vall who fucked her court up, but i could be wrong. however that data is meta, and I dont know if magnus would draw two and two.
>>
>>2647534
>>2647535
>>2647538
Flattery
>>2647566
War
>>2647575
Lewd Challenge
>>2647615
>>2647617
>>2647604
War and Lewd.

Ask and ye shall receive.
>Roll me a flat d100 to seduce the last of the Wild Court. B03 you degenerates
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>2647626
BEHOLD
>>
>>2647538
Well if you voted for the fighter built red headed girl we alredy could have had that alredy
>>
Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>2647626
Degenerate dice!
>>
Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>2647626
>>2647631
Dam 1 off the best roll
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>2647626
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>2647626
>>
>68<DC75. Seduction is a slight failure!
>Do you wish to use your banked Crit to meathammer the last of an ancient Spiritual Line?
>Y/N
>>
>>2647675
yes.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wep90GDJkpE
>>
>>2647675
YES
We need a magic user in our back pocket
>>
>>2647675
>Y
Fuck it
>>
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>>2647675
Fuck it I guess we're actually doing this.
>>
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>>2647675
>>2647675
>YYYYY
>>
>>2647675
yes
>>
Looks like we're gonna tongue punch her baby box.

>>2647675
In away we might be doing her a favor if she gets preggo. that means her Spiritual Line will live on.
>>
>Crit used! Crit bank at 0/3!

You are silent for a moment, the forsaken nature spirit locking eyes with you, her slit pupils twitching as she remains motionless, one slim hands drifting across the trunk of the ancient oak. You step forward and she blinks, her hand twitching as you speak.
"Ive come here on my own will, and come here for as much as I can know. Ive walked many paths and seen a great many things My Lady. I come here not with insults but greetings. Are you so ill of character to reject good company so soon? I mean you no harm and the hands that destroyed your home were not mine"
You state pointedly, gesturing around to the darkened wood, the trees old and bent, their boughs creaking as they lean towards you like silent guardians. The Spirit blinks in shock as you continue, your voice a soft rumble in the gloom of the forest floor.
"To reject my invitation of kindness and company so soon, it makes me wonder. Are you simply too withered to hunt, or has it just been too long since your soil has been tilled, woman? Even the mightiest forest can be made to bear fruits under the plows of men"
You smile darkly as your eyes roam over her slim frame. Even hidden behind the layers of talismans and bark and vine, her figure is soft and womanly, enough ti catch the eye of any man. She takes a breathe, eyes narrowing in outrage but you boldly plow on, cutting her off.

"Hear my tale, my story of the hunt while you consider my...offer"
You can't help but take a step back as the Spirit clenches her claws and nods..
"Very well then... You truly are the son of Man aren't you human?"

You chuckle and drag a thumb across the horrific scar on your face and gesture towards the valley
"The sons and daughters of the moon gave me this scar and brought my life to an end once. I walked the land of the dead and was ripped forth by the Father of warriors himself and delivered back to my body. I intend to return the favor, ten thousand times ten thousand times over until the last of the false godesses's altars lies shattered beneath my feet. Aid me in my quest and I will do my best to restore the glorious splendor of your illustrious court, this I swear upon Vall, greatest of men."

The spirits eyes have widened, her breath coming slightly faster and a green tinge to her cheeks as she steps forward.
"You would assist me human? You do not seek the erasure of my court?"

>what say
Or
>What do?
>>
>>2647710
>spaghetti erupts from my pockets
>>
>>2647710
extend your hand to her
"Mark me as you see fit, woman. Let all know I carry your duty, so long as you carry for me."
--
>>
>>2647710
>You do not seek the erasure of my court?
Why would I ever wish to do that? If would be a loss to the world to lose someone of such ancient grace and beauty. Perhaps we can take a stroll in your forest as we talk.

>>2647715
Don't you mean the knuckle bones of our slain enemies?
>>
>>2647726
>>2647727
Combining these in absence of additional votes.
>>
>The spirits eyes have widened, her breath coming slightly faster and a green tinge to her cheeks as she steps forward.
Quick, does anyone more words to seduce the magic lady some more?
>>
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>>2647777
>>
>>2647781
Benis xDDD
>>
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>>2647795
>LoliConqueror
>>
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>>2647727
This, stroll to a scenic spot beneath the moon and then offer to bring some new life to her old forest.
>>
You step forward, your own boldness surprising even you as you advance toward the flushed and suddenly flustered Spirit. Her eyes have changed from slit pupiled orange to a soft green, the pupil rounded and wide as she regards you, nostrils flaring as she inhales your scent.
" why would I wish to do that? You have done me and mine no harm. The loss of your court would surely be a tragedy for this world. The loss of grace and beauty such as yours would be a tragedy for myself especially"
You allow a small smile to cut through your tangled amd braided beard as you pop the fastening bone buttons of your shirt, rolling it back and stepping closer, the Mistress of the forest seeming very anxious.

The Nature Spirit nods slightly, her full dark lips press together for a moment before she speaks.
"Do... Do you know of what you suggest? Such... Meetings do not leave the mortal unmarked... In our moments of unrestraint, our essence flows free and we may lose control of ourselves"

You raise and eyebrow and shrug the garment off, noting how the Spirits eyes flicker as she looks over scarred and rune marked muscle. You reach out slowly, taking her hand, the claws receding to little more than long dark nails, and placing it on the time decorating your chest. You release her hand, spreading your arms and looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Mark me as you see fit my lady. As long as you carry for me, I will carry your mark"

The light in her eyes seems very predatory all of a sudden as she steps forward, her nails digging into your chest as inexorable strength bears you to the ground, the suddenly nude nature spirit straddling your hips.

This may not have been a good idea.

>Roll me a d100 please. Not for performance, just what exactly happens.
>>
Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>2647804
MEATHAMMER TIME
It would be cool if we impregnated her with a Groot or something.
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>2647804
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>2647804
>>
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Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>2647804
Rolling for number of babies.
>>
Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>2647804
>"Mark me as you see fit my lady. As long as you carry for me, I will carry your mark"
She's gonna scratch the fuck out of Magnus's back. you know because he'll be fucking her and she'll scratch his back as she's fucked fiercely?
I'm guessing this is to see if we can match her unnatural libido?
>>
>>2647804
>Roll me a d100 please. Not for performance, just what exactly happens.
is this a roll for each of us or one of us?
>>
>>2647821
Bo3. There could be been bad results
>>
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>>2647813
>>2647825
>>
>ill finish this depravity in the AM, gotta get some sleep boyos. Feel free to drop criticism, questions, comments, art, etc while im out. You guys stay awesome!
>>
No criticisms, best quest 10/10, see you when you return.
>>
>>2647858
Does Magnus' dick have stats?
>>
been missing this quest, welcome back
>>2647815
>Rolling for number of babies.
lol
>>
>>2648107
>Magnus wil never be able to conquer the world because he’s got 92 babies to pay child support to a fucking tree spirit.
>>
Also just asking, but are you the same CursedQM as Xenoquest?
>>
>>2648444
Yes I am. I had to abandon that because it was such a roll fest on my end I quickly got burned out
>>
>>2647863
It counts as a great weapon with piercing and bludgeoning capabilities
>>
>>2648788
Can it be utilized during combat?
>>
>>2648829
It probably can be used in combat and it most likely does double damage to women and certain men.
>>
>Cont

The trees around you bend and twist, their branches groaning as the nature spirit takes her pleasure from you. Roots curl from the ground, wrapping around your arms and ankles like manacles as her clawed fingers dig into your chest and shoulders, just deep enough to barely break the skin. Golden eyes flicker in the dark as a cool wind whistles through the trees. The scar on your face and the rune on your chest both tingle and itch as you are used for the pleasure of the long-forgotten spirit. You nearly yelp with pain as her fingertips shift into dark talons for a brief moment, piercing the flesh of your upper shoulder, drawing rivulets of hot blood. You grit your teeth and bear the pain, the sting quickly forgotten as the sensations within you both build once more.

>Hours pass

Finally, with an aching finish that leaves your vision gray at the edges and sweat rolling from your body, it is over. Mushrooms and flowers burst into life around you as high, shuddering gasp is forced from her lips. She slumps against your chest, breathing heavily, a satisfied smile curling her lips as she traces a clawed finger along your neck, chuckling softly to herself. Despite her energetic fervor, not a drop of sweat mars her skin as she licks one of her thumbs, dabbing at the quartet of weeping gouged in your shoulder. Your grunt of pain brings a sly smile to her lips and she shrugs, tracing the bleeding welts.
"I warned you didnt I son of man? We lose control of ourselves in moments of.... Distraction."

She rises from your prone form, her bark skirt and layer of talismans returning ti her in between blinks of your eyes as she smirks at your restrained nudeness. You roll your eyes and tug pointedly at the restraining roots. With a coy grin and a shake of her head, she gestures and you are free.

>"Now, what can I do for you?"

>"Who are you"

>"Wanna go again?"

>Run

>Other
>>
>>2648855
>>"Now, what can I do for you?"
>>
>>2648855
>>"Now, what can I do for you?"
>>"Who are you"
Both relevant.
>>
>>2648870
This.
>>
>>2648855
>Other
Get dressed
Got some magic to fix the scratch on the shoulder?
>>
You rise from your impromptu bed of decaying leaves and thin grass, dusting yourself off as you buckle your belt, cracking your neck and grinning at the reclining nature spirit.
"Now, you said something about needing something done? What can I do for you?"

She cuts her soft green eyes across the clearing amd gestures toward a small silvery white flower emerging from the leaf mould with unnatural rapidity.
"That flower is created from a drop of my essence. It is a direct conduit to... me. To my realm. To what remains of the Wild Court. If you pluck that flower and plant it somewhere near humans, where it can be found... I could remain. Without it...I will fade away to nothing. It took very nearly the last of my power to create it... I will fade from this mortal realm soon, I must rest"

You look down at the silvery white flower, its curling ivory petals revealing an interior of vivid scarlet shit through with veins of gold. Its scent reaches your nose, calling forth the image of ancient trees, flowering meadows, ripening fruit.

You turn back towards the spirit, shocked to see her form melding with that of the tree she leans against, sinking into it like soft clay. You step forward in shock and she smiles softly and sadly, resting a hand across her belly she shakes her head.
"Take the flower and perform this task for me. Please. I do not know how I will repay you but I will be forever grateful to you"

As more and more of her flesh is absorbed into the tree trunk, you realize something
"Wait... Who are you? What is your name?".

All that remains of her is her eyes and her smile as she smirks at your question.
"You ask now? Human indeed... I am Cameera, Daughter of The Wild King. Farewell Magnus, son of Man, Heir of Ruin"
And with that, she is gone, absorbed into the tree like a heavy stone on wet clay. You look downward towards the blooming flower, its leaves glowing with a faint golden light.

>Pluck the flower

>Leave it.

>Other
>>
>>2648924
>>Pluck the flower
Probably use it to dick over an enemy.
>>
>>2648924
>>Pluck the flower
We can even plant it in the next place we raid, so that by the time reinforcements come, they get wild hunt'd
>>
>>2648924

> Pluck the flower

We'll plant it in the fertile ashes of the next moon temple we raze.
>>
>>2648924
>Other
Dig up the flower, roots and all, plant it at the crag near your home. We will lend strength to our own.
>>
>>2648951
This
>>
>>2648975
anon i don't think we want to have a flower of the wild hunt living near our civilians
>>
>>2648986
I agree with this anon

>>2648975
Plus they might die from the extreme cold of the crag
>>
>>2648986
I think its more of a shrine or temple. not a place to call for murder. I'd rather we pick who is paying homage to this growing spirit and potential ally, than to give it over to an enemy.
>>
>>2648996
She was a good fuck, but I prefer we not worship her.
>>
>>2648975
This anon is correct. The rest of you are low IQ.
>>
>>2648996
well she did say "where it can be found," and her father is the wild king, who presumably does the wild hunt, so i'd say it's pretty dangerous.
But how about this; we can pick it, take it home and see what duergir says, THEN plant it somewhere
>>
>>2649023
No wild hunt in this, her father *was* a powerful nature spirit.
>>
>>2649027
I wonder what kind of retirement home houses all the ex-powerful ancient spirits

bingo night must be crazy
>>
>>2649027
Intriguing... I'll still support picking it, I'd quite like to hear what duergir has to say before we plant
>>
>>2649029
Considering Vall quite literally skull fucked them.... Probably not very nice
>>
>>2649033
Vall had some weird fetishes
>>
>Pluck the flower.

You crouch down, pinching the base of the faintly glowing flower between two fingers. It takes a surprising amount of force before the stem separates, coming free with a flat chiming sound. You look around as you wrap the faintly shining bulb in a scrap of cloth, tucking it into your shirt as you stand. You incline your head in the direction of the tree Cameera faded into and turn on your heel, making your way back towards the camp.

Maybe its your own endless stamina or just the invigorating effects of passionate rutting but you feel energized, your own fatigue fading away as you scratch at the tingling welts in your shoulder, your feet quickly carrying you back to the camp.

The sky above is slowly brightening with the rising sun behind the jagged peaks ringing the valley when you arrive back in the perimeter. The yawning, sleepy eyed sentries blink in shock as you stride from the forest, your clothes stained with soil and mashed leaves. You wave away their questioning gaze and make your way directly to a smoldering cookfire. Yanking free a hunk of dark bread from the hands of one of Dagmars men you dunk it into the steaming pot of stew bubbling over. Soft, boiled roots and stringy goat fill your mouth with savory saltiness as you tear voraciously into the food, your stomach gurgling with hunger.

With raised brows and shrugs, the surrounding men begin packing up the camp as you scoop out more and more of the stew, filling your belly for the days march. Urhost rolls out of his tent, blearily rubbing his eyes as he stumbles over to Arvel, kicking the brute awake.

>Speak with Dagmar

>Speak with Urhost

>Speak with Arvel

>Get on the road

>Othern
>>
>>2649231
>>Speak with Dagmar
>>Speak with Urhost
>>Speak with Arvel
Tell them the story, and to keep it fucking quiet until we can figure out what we want to do.
>>
>>2649238
Maybe we shouldn't walk up to people and tell them we had sex with a tree.
>>
>>2649238
Seems kind of counter productive if you tell people and expect them not to speak word of it. if they believe it. Get em drunk enough and they might spill the beans you know?

>>2649231
>Speak with Dagmar
Ask his if anything happened while we were on our walk and how far he believes us to be from our destination.
>>
>>2649242
>>2649248
They are our most trusted dudes but alright, I'll change my vote >>2649238
to
>Get on the road
if you want to keep it quiet
>>
>>2649256
one moment
>Dagmar
>a trusted dude
felt like i had to say it.
>>
>>2649258
My bad, got his name mixed up with our scout leader
>>
>>2649266
one of these days i wonder if he'll be a bro
>>
>>2649270
we'd probably have to beat his ass and see how he responds. if he takes to it as well as arvel i wouldn't necessarily be opposed
>>
>>2649231
>Get on the road
I wonder what had happened if we got a low roll for the fug
>>
>>2649282
Bad things
>>
>>2649231
>>Get on the road
>>
Within minutes, fires are doused and smothered, sending tendrils of smoke skyward. Heavy packs are stuffed with cloaks and hides, loading onto groaning back. Bladders are emptied and skins refilled from a gurgling stream and as one, the column of Crag Wolf infantry gets on the move once more.

By nightfall, you will be upon the first of the villages on your path to Crescent Hall.

Your men march behind you, weapons sharpened and faces set with determination as Urhost and Arvel flank you. Arvels hatchet and buckler are freshly sharpened, the another edge of the blade glimmering evilly. Urhost shoulders his axe, rolling his bald head as he shoves your shoulder with his free hand.
"Where did you wander off to Magnus? Ya get lost out there?"
He laughs as you snort.

Arvel speaks up, looking at you incredulously.
"Ya went out in the old forest by bloody self? What'n the fuck fer? Theres ghosts in there. 'specially at night!"

>What say
>>
>>2649326
"I had a good piss."
>Magus spits on the ground
"Wanna hear about my shit you ugly bastard?"
>>
>>2649326
"No ghosts. Just echos. Need to talk to the old man when we get back to the crag. Might of fucked a tree." let them take it as they will.
>>
>>2649334
this
>>
>any other votes before I call it?
>>
>>2649326
backing this >>2649334
>>
>>2649334
Supporting
>>
>>2649334
This.
>>
>>2649326
>>2649326
this for sure >>2649334
>>
You smirk to yourself, looking sidelong at Urhost and Arvel and shrug, spitting into the thick soil along the game trail.
"No ghosts. Just echos. Ill need to talk to the old man when we get back to the Crag"
You rub the back of your neck, raising your brow and turning to smirk at Urhost
"Might have fucked a tree."

Arvel chokes as he takes a swig from his waterskin and Urhost blinks owlishly, working his cheek between his teeth.
"You what?"

Arvel finally gets a breathe and spits out
"Ya fucked a bloody tree? We've only left the Crag three days ago an' yer already hurtin' that bad?"

Your laughter carries through the forest as the confusion of your lieutenants brings you no end of mirth. Pointedly ignoring Urhost's confused scowl and Arvels endless questions and remarks about splinters, you focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

>Speak with Urhost (what about)

>Speak with Arvel (about what)

>Speak with Dagmar (what aboot)

>Focus on the march (Timeskip)

>Other
>>
>>2649595
>>Speak with Dagmar (what aboot)
We're getting close, surely his scouts have done some stuff, let's see if there's any game plan changes.
>>
>>2649595
>Focus on the march (Timeskip)

If we aren't careful at this rate we will fuck Urhost. lets just focus on the walk.
>>
>>2649607
This.
>>
>>2649607
ill support this. ONWARD.
>>
>>2649595
>Arvels endless questions and remarks about splinters
>kek.mp3

>Speak with Dagmar (what aboot)
You any your men feeling ready?

>>2649607
He had scouts? I thought it was just Wren.

Where is he anyways?
>>
>>2649595
this >>2649607
>>
>Speak with Dagmar.

You heft your pack and quicken your step, calling back over your shoulder towards your companions.
"Gonna talk with Dagmar. See if hes got his head out of his ass"

Urhost snorts and Arvel mutters darkly under his breathe, likely not a compliment towards the raid leader. You quickly close the small distance between your men and Dagmars, shouldering your way through the rabble of hide-armored raiders. Curses and muttered insults filter around you as you barge through the center of the throng, pushing out just behind and to the left of Dagmar.

The dark haired and scarred raider turns his head, some story falling still on his lips as he regards you, the tattoos on his neck and cheek twitching as he worka his jaw. Meier, the redheaded sniper, glares at you but minds his tongue wisely. Ryk, the masked berserker, gurgles out a wet growl, his painted leather mask smeared with blue and red dyes. Dagmar rolls his eyes and laughs to his cronies as he locks eyes with you, his step never faltering
"Well, seems he already forgot the order of things. I owe you that knife Meier. Magnus, your men march behind mine. Can you remember that?"
His cronies laugh as you bite your tongue, inhaling deep through your nose and repressing the urge to twist his head off like a chickens. Seeming ti sense your irritation he laughs and shakes his head
"A joke Magnus. A joke. What do you need? You wouldn't have stomped on Kor's foot like that if it wasn't important."

>what say?
>>
>>2649638
Wren is returning from his scouting mission against Crescent Hall. He will rejoin you tonight.
>>
>>2649688
Ask for his opinion on the worst and best case scenarios and if there's anything else he suspects we might encounter.
Might as well get to know him before some moonfag kills him. He have any grand tails to retell? Anything outstanding in his career as a cragwolf?
>>
>>2649688
Hold our temper and turn the jibe into productive activity.
>"So I should assume your men are ready to march then Dagmar?"
>>
>>2649688
"Yeah, my men were hoping to stare at ye' pretty asses. Have ya front forces seen anything? I'd hate have marched with twigs up my ass just so we're spotted before the raid."
>>
>>2649762
We doing friendly Banter now?
>>
>>2649688
Just wanted to double cheack the plan for takening this place
Are we hiting it from differnt agnles or you just going to bum rush it?
>>
>>2649688
lets keep it cool. "The time is almost upon us. A review of the plan, I want to make sure we block their arrows and stay clear of yours. Will we act the role of attackers while your men skulk and murder?"
>>
>>2649875
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SNTSoizcvME

https://youtu.be/perM4JVZsxo
>>
You fix Dagmar with a flat and steady glare that seems to remind the cocky Raider that you are a full head and shoulders above him and much stronger. He silences his men with a look and nods at you. You glare for a second longer before speaking
"Just wanting to make sure of your plan. What do you have in mind? Are we going to be driving into these villages headlong or are we creeping in close?"

Dagmar nods, chewing a wad of herbs against his cheek and spitting a jet of dark saliva before responding
"Well normally, we would be creeping in close and getting in under the cover of darkness. Have the raid already underway before they even know their under attack. But.... This time we WANT the alarm to be raised. We want panic. We want runners. We'll let them go free, not even taking thralls, just burning the villages and moving on."

You walk silently for a moment, mulling over the plan before nodding.
"And when we get to Crescent Hall? Whats your plan then?"

Dagmar cuts his eye at you, a brief scowl twisting his mouth before he sighs
"Ive told you. When the alarm is raised, a detachment of the town guard and the lancers garrisoned there will be sent to deal with us. We hit them on the road, take their horses and gear, return as victorious heroes. When they open the gates to let us through, the rest of us charge in while they hold the gatehouse."

You absorb the information and file it away with the efficiency of a trained mercenary. Recieving changing orders on the road were a constant annoyance but it was either adapt or die. You nod slowly and put forth your final question.
"Which village are we hitting first? Got something special in mind?"

Dagmar and Meier share a look before the raid leader grins darkly, spitting the wad of pulped herbs before he responds
"We're headed for Yoel's Chapel. Big rabble of peasants around some old abbey of one of their saints. When we torch the place that will really pinch their balls"
His men laugh and jeer, promising death, blood and violations of the highest order to the unlucky and unarmed villagers they are marching towards.

>Ask Dagmar something

>Speak with Urhost

>Speak with Arvel

>Other
>>
>>2650184
Fixed it

>Ask Dagmar something

>Speak with Urhost

>Speak with Arvel

>March in silence (Timeskip)

>Other
>>
>>2650184
Since I forgot to add a pic of Cameera
>>
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>>2650200
>Most of the fuckers you'll be going up against in the villages
>>
>>2650184
I've got nothing else to ask.
>>
>>2650184
>>March in silence (Timeskip)
At this point, all we need is a report from Wren and a stout mind.
>>
>>2650184
>Other
"We have issue to clear, here and now; I know your reputation, you know mine. Our command and conduct differ. Save the depravity and need for entertainment for after the victory. Needn't be differences, or our men killing each other, either way would slow us down. If you can keep your wolves controlled and disciplined, mine will mind where their blades swing. Where we differ is much, but victory is common ground. Is there agreement?"
>>
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>>2650205
I have nothing other than timeskip after my dialog, regardless of the response.

also "the thought of death finally releasing him from this shitty job brought a pained smile to his face."
>>
You chew your cheek and walk in silence for a short distance before you speak up, fixing Dagmar with a cold stare.
"You and I? We have issue to clear, here and now Dagmar"
You growl, your voice rumbling out from your chest and making the ragged raiders give you a wide berth. Dagmar stares at you in outraged shock before spitting out
"And that is?"

You don't even blink as you plow on, making sure the cocky sadist knows where he stands.
"I know your reputation, you know mine. You might enjoy carving the faces from screaming women but I will have none of it. Our command and conduct differ. Save your depravity and need for entertainment for after the victory. There needn't be differences, or our men killing each other, either would slow us down more than Im happy with. If you can keep your dogs controlled and disciplined, mine will mind where their blades swing. Where we differ is much, but victory is common ground. Is there agreement or are you going to continue this childish display?"

All around you is silence as the entire column comes to a halt. Dagmars raiders watch you in awed silence, Ryk and Meier watch their leader with wide eyes, a wet gurgle sounding from Ryks throat. Dagmar chews his tongue, his eyes dilated and nostrils flared as he turns toward you, one hand gripping a curved dagger so tightly his knuckles crack before he exhaled slowly, a red flush creeping across his neck before he nods.
"Theres no need for... Hostility, between us. You do your job, my men will do theirs. I will make sure they restrain themselves. Happy?"
Without waiting for a response he turns on his heel, continuing the march down the game trail. From behind you, Arvel's voice comes over the sounds of dozens of footsteps.
"Fookin'ell!"

>Roll me 1d100 for the days march. Lets see what happens
>>
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>2650248
>>
Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>2650248
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>2650248
FUCKING SHIT
>>
Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>2650248
dice+1d100
>>
>63! Barely scraped by.

While the weather and trails of the last few days have been agreeable enough, it seems the spirits have lost their patience with your group. Thick, heavy clouds roll in, bringing with them wind, howling through the treetops. Behind the wind comes fat, heavy drops of rain that splatter against your skin like snowmelt. You grit your teeth and put one foot in front of the other as the trail turns from packed earth to sucking mud, the icy slop reaching up to your ankles.

For hours on end, for miles without seeming end, your column of damp, cursing, swearing warriors continues on. Under the ancient trees, their branches catching gallons of the icy rain, streaming rivulets pouring down at the slightest disturbance. As the old forest falls behind you, the newer growth at its edges becoming more apparent every step, you grit your teeth and soldier on.

By the time you finally make camp, everyone in the war party is soaked to the bone, drenched and shivering. The endless drizzle prevents fires from being built, from dry bedding being available. You resign yourself to a cold dinner and a long night when suddenly a shout of alarm sounds from one of the sentries. A kicking imitation of his yelp issues out of the forest and out of the damp and gloom steps Wren, flanked by his fellow scouts.

Turning towards the startled sentry he flicks a acorn at the man, chuckling to himself
"Id rather be startled than dead Dyal. I could be put an arrow through your neck and youd have never made a sound"

>Meet with seen and your lieutenants.

>It can wait, you need some rest

>other
>>
>>2650256
That's a sexy number

I thought the speech with Dag was needless but meh.
>>
>>2650326

>Meet with seen and your lieutenants.
>>
>>2650326
>Meet with seen and your lieutenants.
Aby news Wren?
>>
>>2650338
*any
>>
>>2650326
>>Meet with seen and your lieutenants.
>>
>>2650326
Fucking autocorrect.

Seen shouldve been Wren
>>
>>2650342
supported. Lets chat with wren and the gang, hear what he has to say.
>>
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So happy this quest is back!
>>
>>2650326
>Meet with Wren and your lieutenants.
>>
>>2650326
>>2650326
Meet with seen and your lieutenants
>>
>Speak with Wren and your Lieutenants.

You rise from the semi-shelter of a thickly canopied tree and stand, nodding to Wren as he notices, lifting a hand in greeting. You call out to Urhost and Arvel, the soggy warriors prying themselves from their damp shelter and following you with no small amount of grumbling.

Wren shakes his head, his hide hood shedding droplets of water like a hound as he strides towards you, grabbing your extended forearm with a laugh.
"You managed to get this far without me? Why do you keep dragging me along?"
He chuckles, his layer of treated skins smeared with dyes and crushed leaves, resembling a strange bush more than a man. He looks around pointedly and leans closer
"You know theres a sheltered ridge not a mile from here right?"

You, Urhost and Arvel share a look as Wren laughs at your misfortune, the scouts Wren took with him filtering back into the skirmishes, sharing greetings and jokes with their fellow warriors. You mean back against a tree trunk, icy water trickling down your cheek and wave your hand
"Its too bloody late for that Wren. Ive no interest in hiking through this mess in the dark. What did you see?"

Wren chuckles and nods, rubbing his gloved hands together at your discomfort
"Right then. We spent a entire day watching the town, me and Pek and Alem. Its a sizeable place, probably two, three hundred living inside the walls while there's a sprawl of huts around the outside. The town is built up against the cliff face, the walls built right into it. Thats where we found our first bit. There's a crevice in the Cliff face a few hundred yards down from the walls. Its narrow at first but it widens up into a proper little cave system once you're inside. Its cut by water from an underground stream so the ceiling is a bit low but nothing awful. This cave leads to a small underground pool that one of the towns wells dips into. Some nimble men could climb right up inside from there"
His eyes crinkle up behind his mask, a sure sign of a broad smile behind it as you nod and wave your hand for him to continue.
"Well, the Town itself sits on a hill for the most part, a good view of the surrounding area, the roads, the river, the forest, you name it. All except for this one overgrown ditch. Some lazy farmer let it get out of hand and now its just completely hidden from view by these scrubby bushes. If we hop down into that ditch, we could be within spitting distance of the walls before they ever knew we were there!"

>Wren had finished his report
>There is a hidden crevice that can allow a small team access to the town via a well
>There is a overgrown ditch nearby allowing stealthy movement nearly up to the walls.

>Discuss your strategy

>Timeskip to tomorrow
>>
>>2651648
>>Discuss your strategy
God damn, we can have a strike team and a stealth squad, so while wren and others are going ham, Magus can be in and attacking with friends. And they're safe while Dagnar makes his big rucus.
>>
>>2651648
>Strategy: Sneak through the ditch with the bulk of the forces, and have another smaller group take the crevice. The sounds of battle will be the signal for the crevice team to attack ~5 minutes after the fighting begins. They will do their best to assassinate the sentries. See if we can get Dagmar's sniper to piss off the guards and get them lured to the other side of the town as well. Our men break the walls, Dagmar's berserker heads in through the crevice as well, he will be a surprise for everyone. Once we are over the walls, and the guards are likely rushing back to meet us, the raiders come from the front gate thats left alone, and hopefully the assassination team has opened.
>>
>>2651648
I mistook the town for the Chapel village for a moment.
if i get this right, some men will sneak to the over grown ditch while a stealth team will enter through the well to open the gates

Meier and his sniper will probably give us covering fire while we charge from the ditch to the gate.
>>
>>2651648
>>Discuss your strategy
>>
>>2651667
So if I understand you, you want three separate teams? One team to sneak in through the well to assassinate anyone they encounter and open the gates, one to stick to the ditch and be ready to charge into town, and another to be at some far end of the wall to harass and attract the attention of their snipers?
Good plan but if we do it like that then the town might have enough time to rally. Sort of?

What if Wren's team simply sneaked in and opened the gates?

What time should we do this? During the day or at night?
>>
>>2651700
here is the order of events, and only if dagmar plays along:

bulk of Magnus's warriors sneak through the ditch. Assassins in the well. Raiders at the gates but out of sight. The sniper kicks it off by picking off guards and pissing people off. We jump the wall, cause havoc on our end, a minute or so later the assassination team slips through the town to get the gate open and let the raiders in while the guard are busy fucking with us.

for the guard's desire attention it would be: get mad at sniper, go after him: realize they were bamboozled and go after magnus and crew, then get double bamboozled a bit later when they have raiders at their back. We let the civilians slip away and take maybe some choice loot. Get some real food. Steal some horses. whatever.
>>
>>2651745
>We jump the wall
Say what now? Aren't these walls super tall? Like, do you want Magnus alone to scale the wall and start running and chopping people as he goes?
>>
>>2651745
>Raiders at the gates but out of sight.
But the only way for Dagmar's skirmishers to be out of sight is at the ditch. Isn't it? if someone notices the hoade of blood thirsty raiders on the other side of the gate they might catch onto our ploy, or so I assume.

What do you think is a safer time to kick this off? During the day while there is more viability but the guards are relatively lax, or at night with low viability but the guards are more or less alert?
>>
>>2651768
our goal is to sew discord, I think at night might work, but at the same time, how far away is the cavalry?

Adjust the plan to use a small force of archer scouts to harass the guards, then book it. The bulk of the force from there pops up over the wall with the rest taking the tunnels. We might also capture someone important trying to run. I doubt we are the only ones who know of that route.

The scouts can sew a little terror for the people fleeing, make this force seem bigger than it is.

As for day vs night. The Cavalry is at a disadvantage at night, so if we attack at a point where it will be night by the time there is a response; that would be best.
>>
>>2651787
Wait fuck shit I was confusing the plans l. We still have to attack the Cavalry guys so some of are guys can disguise themselves as Cavalry so they can sneak in and keep the gates open for our hoards.

I think we would have an easier time ambushing them during daylight on a trail leading to Chapel.
>>
Which settlement are we plotting to hit up?
>>
>strategy for assault on crescent hill in 3 days time seems to be
>Use disguised raiders to gain entrance to the town and hold the gates
>Have Skirmishers harass guards with sniper fire
>Have strike team of Wren and Ryk move through the well and attack from the rear.
>Magnus and second strike force scale the walls and sow chaos to draw away guards from the gates.

>Bueno?
>>
>>2651829
Crescent Hall. Dagmar has the battle plans for the raids against the outlying villages. You'll receive them before the battle starts.
>>
>>2651840
Looks fine to me
>>
>>2651840
I guess!
>>
>>2651840
lets do it.
>>
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>>2651840
>>
>>2651840
Do it
>>
Your strategy decided, you spend the next hour or so hashing out details with Wren and Urhost. Arvel, knowing a conversation above his pay grade, excuses himself and retires to a huddled conversation with Balon and Lionel.

The valley of the moon, according to Wren, is mobilizing for war. Ragged streams of green recruits, armored columns of legionairres and bands of lancers march along the roadways. All headed north. According to the far ranging ears of the scout master, a horde of Highlanders has besieged the Gates, the painted madmen fighting tooth and nail to pierce the iron hide of the Legion. If that weren't enough, the Wildfolk seem to have risen as one, forged together under one banner. They aren't allied with the Highlanders it seems, but they aren't killing each other for the most part. Wren wraps himself with an oiled skin and leans against a tree trunk, watching the storm pass overhead.
"Theres never been a better time than now"

That phrase repeats in your ears as you fall asleep finally, well after midnight. Your dreams are murky, shadowy things, the healing welts on your shoulder and the carved rune in your chest burning and itching as conflicting presences twist and coil about your mind. A angled helm, horned and terrible in visage, wrought from ebon steel and carved with marching lines of tunic script, the eyes within burning with unholy rage. A crown of antlers and bone, living wood and leaf, twisted into beauty and ferocity. Two voices call your name. Two powers lay claim to your soul.

The Ruin and The Wild. Death and Rebirth. Iron and Bone.

You wake with a start as the internal conflict rises to a fever pitch, forcing you awake. Urhost withdraws his hand, his face drawn in concern as he crouches next to you.
"Y'alright Magnus? You were tossin' an' turnin' there."

You clear your throat and wipe sleep from your eyes as you sit up, coughing and nodding as you take a swig of a proffered cup, the water fortified with ale.
"'m'alright. Im fine. Just a dream"

Urhost nods sagely, taking back the cup and swigging from it before pulling you to your feet with a grunt
"We all have those Magnus. I know how they are"

You chuckle darkly and shake your head, striding on without an answer. He doesn't know these dreams. None of them do.

>Dawn assault on York's Chapel.
>You will be commanding one unit of 30 Raiders. Urhost and Wren are in command of 30 Warriors and 30 Skirmishers respectively.

>Timeskip to battle

>Speak with Dagmar

>Speak with one of your lieutenants

>Pray? (You have no tongue for it)

>Other
>>
>>2652081
>>Timeskip to battle
Let's go ahead and get this done. There'll be plenty of time to talk when this lot is burning.
>>
>>2652081
>Yoel's Chapel not York's
>>
>>2652081
>Pray?
Pray to Vaal the all father for a badass fight
>>
>>2652098
This but then straight to >>2652089
Putting off battle just makes the tension of waiting worse.
>>
>>2652098
We pray to Vaal by having a by having a bad ass fight.
>>
>pray to Vall then timeskip
>This may actually provide a bonus to things that shall remain nameless.
>What say?
>>
>>2652124
>"Battle pleases you, Vaal, so grant me one request, grant me victory! And if you do not listen, then to hell with you!"
>>
>>2652124
Pray to Vaal and ask what would be more epic: be a whirlwind of doom using our spear and lightning sword, or be a blunt for of death and punch everything to death.
>>
>>2652141
Maybe not that last part, please? I do not want to piss off the guy who fucked all the gods raw.
>>
>>2652144
*force of death
>>
>>2652098
>Pray
"I've no tongue for beautiful words. Vall, you brought me here to conquer and bring conflict. I do this for you, and for myself! Guide my men today, for I handle myself. Do this and I will honor you with more conquest and conflict, and if you dont heed me? To hell with you. *Take a breath* Forest Woman, see that I live this day so I can honor your wants, and grant you your boon, to see you remembered in the minds of many as a great spirit...instead of a good rut. When I've finished up-heaving the world, you can claim your own plot."
>Speak with Dagmar
Let dagmar know your plan, see if he will play along. then
>Timeskip
>>
Once you are away from the others, Dagmars men and your own being shouted into groups and formations, you stop and look upwards, taking a deep breath as your hand clenches on the pummel of your dagger.
"I've no tongue for beautiful words. Vall, you brought me here to conquer and bring conflict to this world. I do this for you, for my people and for myself! Guide my men today, protect them from their foes and bring strength to their arms for I handle myself. Grant me this and I will honor you with more conquest, more bloodshed, more cities razed in your name... and if you dont heed my request? To hell with you."
It may be your mind playing tricks on you but it feels as though a presence stands behind you for a moment, the hair on your neck and arms standing up.

Clearing your throat you continue. "Cameera, Forest Woman, see that I live this day so I can honor your wants, and grant you your boon. Guard my flesh this day to see you remembered in the tales of men as a great spirit...instead of a good fuck. When I've finished up-heaving the world, you can claim your own plot."
Again, it may be a trick of the wind but the trees around you seem to rustle against the wind, their branches waving with unnatural vigor.

>Cont
>>
>>2652081

>Timeskip to battle
Our prays will be the sound of metal on fleash and bone
>>
>>2652354
>Timeskip

You stand against the treeline, your men gathered at your back. To your left flank, Urhost, Arvel, Balon, Lionel and Run stand with a mixed force of Raiders and Warriors. Spears and axes, Shortswords and daggers gleam in the early morning light as they stand silently, eying the village of Yoel's Chapel.

To your right is Dagmar, the dark haired Raider twirling his serrated shortsword, pacing like a wolf. Fast and heavy, he breathes through his nose, working his neck as his men shuffle and fidget, the energy of oredators waiting to lunge. The dawn dew condenses on shields and weapons, dripping down their cured skins and dampening their furs.

At the far edges of the warparty, Wren and Meier stand with their Skirmishers. Bow and javelin, sling and the rare crossbow are readied. Egg shaped stones and sharpened bolts, stubby spears and barbed arrows await the chance to soar through the air with deadly effect.

Before you, across several hundred yards of fields filled with dozing livestock and ripening crops. Gourds and grains, tubers and bulbs, the sweat of these poor farmers brows and their defense against the winters starvation. Long and stout barns hold their summers harvest, food enough to feed their families and sell the excess.

The village itself is a collection of stone and wooden homes built in widening rings around the hulk of an ancient chapel. The resting place of some saint or another, it towers over the other buildings of the village like a bull among goats, its stone walls patched in places with thick beams and planks of hardwood. The roof at one time was shingled in stone and decorated by grinning visage of winged maidens and armored knights. Now it is sagging beams of weathered wood, bundles of straw and reeds slathered in sealing clay.

Dagmar stops his pacing as his men begin stamping and banging weapons together, the tempo and volume increasing rapidly. He hefts his blade, his jagged edged buckler held in a loose grip.

You reach your hand to the hilt of your...

>Select one or two weapons. Selecting one allows you to utilize a weapons special traits while selecting 2 to dual wield lets you deal more attacks. Selecting the shield allows you to utilize it defensively

>Storm-Blade

>DarkSteel Spear

>Throwing axes (can be used as hatchets)

>Blessed Great shield (+15 Armor)
>>
>>2652483
>>Storm-Blade
>>DarkSteel Spear
All in
>>
>>2652483
>Storm-Blade
>DarkSteel Spear
We can afford to go wild, thanks to the boon of he who hungers eternally
>>
>>2652488
>>2652492
These.
>>
>>2652492
we shouldn't be going up against anything too bad here. might as well go balls out.
>>
>Storm-Blade: Legendary Great Weapon:2A 2D 2DD (3DD when wielded as Main weapon)
>DarkSteel battle spear: Enchanted Great Weapon: 2A 2D 2DD (3DD when wielded as main weapon)
>3/3 Heavy Throwing Axes: 1A 2DD eaxg
>200/200HP
>60 armor
>Check Character sheet for weapon skills.

You reach down to your hip, your fingers wrapping around the leather grip of the Storm blade. The tip heavy, curving greatsword slides free of the ebony and steel she's the with the smooth rasp of steel on steel. The hilt tingles the skin of your hand, electric pulses that speak of the ancient power locked within the blade. Reaching across your shoulder you pull free the DarkSteel spear, the thick ironbound shaft fitting solidly in your hand as you roll your shoulders, the familiar weight of the weapons setting your blood singing.

With a wordless roar, Dagmar charges forward, his raiders following him in a howling rush. Meier and Ryk lead their men after him, Meier curving around the edge of the fields, small groups of men breaking off as convenient firing positions are found. Ryk howls like a feral beast, his paired hatchets in his hands, his belt studded with an array of serrated daggers. Leaping and sprinting, the berserker pulls to the lead, following Dagmar like the dog he is.

You take a deep breathe and follow the example, bellowing into the sky so loudly the ground around your feet shakes. Your men bash their weapons against shields, their roar of bloodlust like the fall of an avalanche. Urhost and Arvel follow your lead, bellowing in challenge, your combined voices shaking dust from the eaves of Yoel's Chapel. With a pounding doorstep, you throw yourself into motion, blades gripped in white knuckled grip

>What do?

>You have 2 Orders available for Wren and Urhost. What do you have them do?
>>
>>2652633
>kill guards, ignore fleeing civilians.

>throw flame onto the roof of the large building. The straw and clay with timber should catch quickly enough.
>>
>>2652633
>doorstep

How the fuck does footstep autocorrect?!?!
>>
>>2647068
>discord

Disgusting.
>>
>>2652673
Anon, did you make a post just say discord is disgusting you fucking faggot?
>>
>>2652639
But then we can't loot them on our way back from raiding the town.

>>2652633
A few of Wren's men keep an eye out for any surprises (i.e. early Calvary encounter). A few of Urhost's men will give chase after those who fee. Not to actually kill, just to scare the living shit out of them.

Other than that just kill em
>>
>>2652633
We have to make a noise kill gurdd but let people leave
Mybe butn that saints place down that will get people coming
>>
>>2652639
This, if only because the guards are a clear and present threat, and civilians are not. Burning buildings will cause chaos and possibly hinder defenders.
>>
>>2652713
We not getting much loot this time anyway so it dosnt matter and all the nice shit going to be in the big town any ways
>>
>>2652722
>>2652718
How about we burn just a few homes down so the cavalry can spot the smoke?
Can we loot the church before setting it aflame? I have a good feeling it might have at least one decent artifact for being dedicated to a saint.
>>
If the majority are guards, what if we kill all the guards then intimidate the survivors into surrendering? We'll get a bunch of thralls that way. More Thralls means more people to carry the loot.
Can we keep the farm animals alive too?
>>
>>2652753
We can try Anon, but this is a terror mission.
>>
>>2652753
no thralls this time we want the enemy to respond to the fleeing survivors
>>
>>2652753
And we onlt getting like 40% of total loot couse this isnt our raid
>>
>>2652713
you fail to heed the plan. we sack the satelite towns around the big town, wack the nest enough to piss off the cavelry, kill the cavelry, go back to town in their disguise. win.


Alsoooo. Slaves are the best loot. Very big ROI.
>>
>>2652799
We need booze for the young boys grad party and cooking stuff for thr cookies for our girl
>>
>>2652799
Fair point. Maybe it's my greed talking.
>>
>>2652813
Speaking of that dose anyone rember all the orders we had for this raid to bring back?
>>
>>2652823
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2478352/
not really? the details are fuzzy.
>>
>>2652823
>>2652834
Tagarth thinks this is a trap, so we're here as back up.
>>
>>2652639
Why not

>>2652695
I sure did, blow me discord fag.
>>
>>2652851
Okay, but I teeth a little.
>>
Rolled 33, 60 = 93 (2d100)

>Engage Villagers and guards
>Urhost engages villagers and guards
>Wren and Skirmishers fire the houses and barns, maintaining a watchful eye for Lancers or patrols

>Roll me 3d100+15 for orders (drilling with your men has been a help) Best of 3. Beat my rolls. Your third roll must beat 50 to be a success
>>
Rolled 96, 86, 83 + 15 = 280 (3d100 + 15)

>>2652880
Glad we did this training
>>
Rolled 91 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2652880
>>
>>2652889
I still need 2d100+15 m80
>>
>>2652880
holy shit
>>
Rolled 85, 95 + 15 = 195 (2d100 + 15)

>>2652892
oops
>>
well that was some fucking brutality we just unleashed
>>
>>2652897
hhhnnnnnnn 120 gonna bust a fat nut to this
>>
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>>2652887
>>2652897
VAAL GUIDES US!
>>
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>>2652887
>>2652897
>Mfw
>>
>>2652904
dude roll that last Bo3.
>>
Rolled 59, 86, 84 + 15 = 244 (3d100 + 15)

>>2652880
>>
I think I need a change of pants
>>
>96+15=111 vs 33. Your group does astoundingly well!
>86+15=101 vs 60. Urhosts group tears into the peasants
>95+15=110 vs 50. Wren and his Skirmishers set the fields and barns aflame

Your barreling charge takes you straight down the center, just to the left of Dagmar and his raiders. Already, the farthest homes from the chapel are being broken into, their screaming inhabitants silenced with the meaty smack of steel on flesh. Torches are flung onto rooftops and through windows, the clay daubed thatch catching fire almost instantly despite the damp. Arrows, their tips wrapped in burning oilcloth bury themselves in wooden walls and rooftops. Thick, dark ugly smoke coils upward in greasy streams as the raid punches into the depths of the village like a freshly mounted maiden.

You vault a low wall of stacked stones on the edge of a field, gourds pulled under your boots as a sleepy eyed villager stumbles from his home, his eyes widening as he takes in your visage. A giant, in his eyes, carved in chain and skins, fists of steel and face hidden behind scarred steel. Blades of blued and blackened steel clutched in those iron hands, their edges gleaming foul intent. His mouth opens in a impending shout of alarm as you step forward and *thrust* with Storm-Blade, the blade of legend punching through the center of his chest. Nerveless fingers drop the rusted hoe in his hands as crimson spreads across the ragged sack cloth tunic concealing his flabby frame. His eyes roll up in his head, his body simply giving up against shock and pain as you twist the blade, ripping it free and spilling his innards across the wall, spraying you with his blood.

Behind your helm, your face is locked in a rictus of rage and bloodlust, eyes wide and teeth clenched as you search for your next victim.

>Head for the Chapel

>Engage these peasants (engage groups of 1d4 opponents)

>search out the guards (engage 2 rounds of 1d3 opponents)

>Other
>>
>>2652964

>Head for the Chapel
its where the valuables likely are, and more importantly, the moonies. these townies are worthless. Plus Dagmar and his men are in the bloodlust as much as you now, they will know what to do.
>>
>>2652964
A peasant is a poor offering to the previous owner of this blade. To the chapel we go. There are probably some souped up priests and paladins/monks.
>>
>>2652964

>Head for the Chapel
honestly hoping for a knight to fight
>>
>>2652964
>>search out the guards (engage 2 rounds of 1d3 opponents)
>>
>>2652964
>>Head for the Chapel
>>
>>2652964
>>Head for the Chapel
>>
>head for the chapel
>Writing
>>
What if Magnus ran through houses and people to the church?
Instead of making his way around the village, what if he goes straight?
>>
>>2653003
>Magnus kool aid man-ning his way through everyone's house before popping out in front of the chapel.
OH YEAH!
>>
You roll your wrist, thick blood dripping from the edge of the blade of storms. All around you, the village is descending into chaos. Half dressed villagers clash with fur armored raiders, armed with hoes, mattocks and pitchforks. Panicked, shouting guards desperately gather into knots of frantic defense, holding doorways and small alleys even as the structures go up in smoke around them.

You lash out with your spear as you step over the moaning form of a farmer, a hooked spear driven through his belly. The blackened edge carves through the thigh of a burly young youth, his mattock falling from his hands as collapses, clutching the spurting wound. You don't even deign to look as you walk on. He is dead anyway.

The once scenic and peaceful village has become am orgy of fear, pain and death. Your nose fills with the scent of spilled blood, burning flesh, the cloying stink of violently pierced intestines.

One of Urhost's warriors bellows like a bull as he grips a farmer by the throat, squeezing so hard that the mans windpipe simply collapses under the force, blood spurting from his swollen lips.

A screaming woman, plump and motherly, dashes from a burning home only to fall limp as a careless swing of a spiked club caves her skull in, sending her in a sprawling pile.

A shouting guard, his mail unfasted and his spear rusted and notched, shouts for aid as he drags a wounded companion, the unfortunate mans intestines spoiling from the gaping wound in his belly like slick grey ropes. As he raises his head to call once more for aid, he falls in a limp heap as a errant arrow punches through his forehead, the barbed tip jutting from the rear of his skull.

Above all this mayhem and destruction, the Chapel of Saint Yoel sits like a mother hen around her clutch. The sweeping stone walls, the faded remnants of the statuary and scrollwork still visible despite the march of time. Your armored boots lead you over corpses and the dying, the wounded and those simply crawling as you make your way to where your spirit *needs* you to go.

Your men will defile this town.

*YOU* will defile this temple.

The oaken doors are closed, their faces adorned with crude etchings of the Silver Lady and her Seven hundred saints, the hunched hermit of Yoel bowing before the Lady of the Moon. You smile to yourself as you regard the supposed barrier.

Locked Doors have never stopped you before

>Cut it open

>Kick it down (Feat of Strength)

>Knock

>other
>>
>>2653047
>>Kick it down (Feat of Strength)
>>
>>2653047

>Kick it down (Feat of Strength)
>>
>>2653047
>Kick it down (Feat of Strength)
>>
>>2653047
>>Kick it down (Feat of Strength)
>>
>>2653047
>Kick it down (Feat of Strength)
Loudly yell
"I'm here to fuck bitches!"
>>
>DC65
>Feat of Strength: DoorKick
>Roll me 1d100+20. Bo3
>>
Rolled 36 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2653082
>>
Rolled 38 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2653082
>>
Rolled 64 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2653082
saving the day
>>
>>2653090
that you are my boy
>>
Rolled 11 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2653082
>>
>84>65. Doorkick achieved

You grip your weapons tightly, taking a deep breathe. The doors stand before you, the reverence and care of their construction obvious even to your eyes. Delicate threads of silver wind through the carved hair of the lady of the moon, likely the culmination of a single smiths delicate work. The doors are beautiful, the pure expression of the faith and devotion of simple, honest folk. You can imagine the sermons that have taken place here. Baptisms for newborns. Funeral rites for beloved figures. Weddings, the joining of two hearts as one, all overseen and blessed by the kindly priest or motherly priestess. The doors are enough to evoke feelings of peace and tranquility in the servants of the moon.

Your armored boot sends fragments of the doors flying inward as if fired by a catapult. The thick oak slab used to bar the doors splits down the center, splinters hanging from the jagged ends as the doors swing inwards slowly, the hinges warped and bent by the force of the impact.

You step inside, through the shattered doorway, your weapons dragging along the rough stone, sparks kicked up by their weight. Inside the Chapel are dozens of carved wooden pews, the seats worn by decades, nay centuries of bottoms. Silver, bronze and wooden candlesticks provide illumination against the gloom provided by the small and highly situated windows.

A elderly priest limps out from an alcove, his face tight with worry as he takes in your armored form. A rustle from the alcove sounds as bare feet scuff on stone, hushed voices whispering as the old man shuffles forward, leaning heavily on a carved staff. His bushy brows jerk as he leans on the wooden staff, his bald head a mass of wrinkles and liver spots, his hands gnarled and twisted, his black and silver-threaded robes hanging loose on his faint gaunt frame. He stops before a carved idol of the Moon Goddess, her face carved in exacting detail, her eyes orbs of silver while ivory painted wings sprout from her shoulders. Her expression is one of absolute kindness and tenderness as she inspects the crude figurine of a human held in a single palm.

The priest watches you advance slowly, your weapons dragging along the stone. He stamps his staff, calling out in a thin, dry voice.
"What is the meaning of this? This is the House of Lady Nyx! Your presence here is a blasphemy!"

>What do
>What say?
>>
>>2653156
considering how the last fight with a priest went, nick this mother fucker's head off before he can even guess our skin color.
>>
>>2653156

> "Lady Nyx is no higher than the lowest of whores, and I have come to bring war in Vall's name. Go on priest, take the power your idol invested in you and smite me. I've endured death and the moon's wrath is nothing before the abyss. I've come to honor the ancestors in bloody slaughter, now lift your staff and give me a fight before I send you to meet your goddess."
>>
>>2653156
>Silver, bronze and wooden candlesticks provide illumination against the gloom provided by the small and highly situated windows.
Loooooooooooooot.

Don't respond. Take the elderly man by the throat, dump him on the altar, and kill him.

>He stops before a carved idol of the Moon Goddess, her face carved in exacting detail, her eyes orbs of silver while ivory painted wings sprout from her shoulders.
Then gouge out the eyes of the idol.
>>
>>2653164
Probably could smite us
>>
>>2653164
You know I wouldn't mind an epic fight with the priest, but I doubt he has much to offer compared to the last guy we fought. Most likely only barely a fraction.
If he is a secret badass, we'll fight him until he's almost dead, THEN sacrifice him on the altar.
>>
>>2653164
surpport
>>
>>2653156
>What do

Defile.

Jam his old ass directly onto the statue's head. He shall be it's crown.
>>
>>2653169

That's the point. We came here to look badass enough to impress the spirits, and nothing is more impressive than slaying a blessed priest by our own, albeit mystic, strength.

Though desu, nine to ten odds he's the most dangerous bastard in the settlement, let alone in a temple of the goddess facing a barbaric blasphemer that's made a habit of murdering her priests and mutilating the corpses.
>>
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>>2653179
>>
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>>2653164
>>2653167
These, let's go full rip-and-tear, kill this guy, then stack up some pews around the idol and use the candles to torch it all. If we can keep the candlesticks themselves for loot, lets do that too. Men gotta eat after all.
>>
just remember to check the place for alcohol monastery usually have that
>>
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>>2653180
The last one did quite a number on us and we still have more fights left
>>
>>2653196
This too. If there is a barrel of sacramental wine then let's take it. We can share it on our way to the town or give it to the lads.
>>
>>2653198
we got an extra attack die I think from getting rune of giants we should honestly blitz him
>>
>y'all seem dead set on harming this poor poor old man.

>Attack (what do)

>Feat of Strength (what do)

>brutality (what do)

>Other
>>
>>2653211
That's an extra damage dice, not attack. Our extra attack comes from dual wielding.
>>2653233
>>brutality (what do)
Spear him in the chest, lightning sword his gut, throw him with his entrails onto the statue.
>>
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>>2653233
>Strength/Brutality
Just put our fist straight through him, dynamite!
>>
>>2653236

Dis. Remember to sacrifice the priest's corpse upon the bloody altar.
>>
>>2653233
Living sacrifice on the altar to insult the goddess.
>>
>>2653236
actually gonna change my vote to this.
I still want to steal the candles and take the silver eyes.
>>
>>2653233
>y'all seem dead set on harming this poor poor old man.

you do understand that we are going to think every preist is an eldritch abomination bound to attack after the last encounter

>>2653236
support
>>
>>2653250

Come to think of it, we've long since succumbed to and surpassed anime villain territory. I mean,

> giant ex-mercenary/barbarian who's survived death and lived to tell the tale with a disfiguring scar, a fuck-huge warhammer and inhuman strength, driven by an urge to kill, rape, plunder, and blasphemy against the peaceful valley's benevolent moon goddess

Is pretty damned prime anime villain territory.
>>
>>2653233
>other
Give this old fuck one chance. He will be coming with us so we can introduce him to another old man back at the crag. Failing that...

>Feat of Strength (what do)
Rip him in half and jam his still living torso on the statue, put the lower half in the hands as an offering.
>>
>>2653259
The moon goddess is a ultra mega giant colossal kame-hame-ha bitch and that's evident even from what little we know of their weird ass cult. Her foremost servants are all bloodthristy psychos/abominations, slavery (and a particularly brutal form at that) is a okay, and exterminating villages that can't meet demands through no fault of their own is just a normal tuesday. If these goat fucking villagers aren't aware of who they've made the mistake of shaking up with then its they're own fault.
>>
>>2653278
why would we want to take him?
>>
>>2653286

Obviously yeah, but I mean, from their point of view we're shifting into textbook BBEG territory at a breakneck pace.
>>
>>2653278
>Give this old fuck one chance.

Agreed, I'll back that at least. Don't particularly care about massacring innocents.
>>
>>2653233
>>y'all seem dead set on harming this poor poor old man.

Plus this, hint hint ya dummies
>>
>>2653305

But this isint about good and evil, its about survivalism. Everything else is justification for hard feelings about hard acts.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zw8UI6phSew
>>
>>2653236
Going with this. Gimme a second to write
>>
>>2653286
>and exterminating villages that can't meet demands through no fault of their own is just a normal tuesday. If these goat fucking villagers aren't aware of who they've made the mistake of shaking up with then its they're own fault.

If anything you've really just provided a pretty good argument as to why they're not rocking the boat themselves. Of course, just running around murdering everyone and burning everything down isn't exactly going to do anything to shake their faith/allegiance to the cult. There's been ample evidence from plenty of the people we've spoke to of peoples unhappiness with this cult and the people who enforce it, but generally most of those people just end up butchered by us instead of being used by us.

Also, apparently we're better than Dagmer and yet here we stand? Ok.
>>
>>2653340
Do you think we could convince these people to freely support us, are we an orator? Do we have the means to do such conversions? The answer for it all is no. I'm leading into something, not being hostile.

We are raiders. We raid. We do bad things, we take what is ours. That is the character. There is the first point. This is not a good guy RPG, or a bad guy RPG. Its just an existence in a world that is fully amoral and lives by the laws of nature. These people might have been under an illusion that its not, but now they know for all the good it does them.

We can grow Magnus, but i doubt patience or overt mercy will ever be a significant trait to him. These people are in the unfortunate position of being useful for a larger plan, and part of that involves their suffering.
>>
>>2653340
we killed 2 innocent coming up here I seriously doubt one priests death is going to change much
>>
>>2653365
the fact our rage was direct only to the monastery is a mercy in of its self
>>
>>2653340
We've raped 3 girls....so...whatevs.
>>
>>2653370
>>2653365
resource management. There is going to be a lot more culling before this goes on, but we might gain useful youths for the trainer.

Totally unrelated, but while we are ya know, raiding and murdering, we should see if the blacksmith of this town has any worthy tools, tomes, etc. or even just loot.
>>
>>2653377
This seems like a sensible thing to do, if there was any industry here at all it would be useful to snag anything light enough to travel with.
>>
>>2653377
Yep. Our smith bro would love some new gadgets.
>>
I can imagine the blacksmith (forgot his name) welding a solid metal pole to an anvil and using that as a weapon (like in Dark Souls 2).
>>
>>2653384
he has a GIANT CLEAVER that he's trying to sell with jagged edge like teeth.
>>
>>2653384
That would be something, considering that anvils for example used with the heavier hammers can weigh in all the way up to 200 pounds. Such a hammer would utterly crush practically anything it hit. Honestly it would be more of a small siege engine than a normal weapon.
>>
>>2653396
Do you think he has the upper body strength for it?
>>
>TFW you guys expected a boss fight in backwater hamlet #267
>TFW this fucker is at least 90
>TFW Bamboozle
>TFW I have no face to match my smug

You stop in your tracks as the priest raises a gnarled, wrinkled hand. His drooping white moustache waivers as he regards you with watery eyes clouded by cataracts. He extends a single, shaking palm in your direction, licking his dry lips.
"My son, this is a holy place. We have no treasures here. This is a place of worship, of thanksgiving, of veneration of the gentle Lady Nyx. Please, leave us be. Take what you wish and go"
His voice is thin and quavery, echoing like the wraps of a dying bird in the silence of the Chapel.

You advance slowly, your boots like the fall of a Smith's hammer on the stone floor, polished smooth by generations of feet. Your eyes burn in the darkness of your helm as you focus on the priest, your lips pulled from your teeth in a gruesome bestial smile. You level your spear at his chest, your voice rumbling in the chapel like the laughter of a demon.
"Your Lady Nyx is no higher than the lowest of whores. Even now she is nothing more than a mount for the father of battles and I have come to bring war in Vall's name. Go on priest, take the power your pathetic idol invested in you and smite me. I've endured death, walked with the dead let me tell you, the moon's wrath is nothing before the abyss. I've come to honor my ancestors in bloody slaughter, now lift your staff and give me a fight before I send you to meet your goddess"
You snarl, clenching your grip on your weapons so hard the pop of your joints is like cracking bone in the echoing silence.

The eelderly priest blinks in shock, his words stolen by the ferocity and heresy of your words. Every syllable an insult to the faith he dedicated his life to. Father Wuthred swallows heavily, his staff gripped in in shaking hands as you advance, your spearppint as steady as a statue.

The old priest sighs, his lips moving in silent prayer. The barest traces of the words reach your ears, even in the silence of the chapel.
"Oh Lady of the Silver chalice, hear my plea. Grant mercy upon your faithful so we may be spared this day. Deliver us from evil and death, shine thy light upon us Oh Gentle mistress of the moon. Oh kind and merciful maiden of the Night Sky, queen of the stars, grant us your light as a shield against this f-Hrk!"

The priest cuts off his mumbled prayer, his cloudy eyes opening and turning downwards, a shaking hand touching the blackened blade jutting from his chest, a full foot of the blade sticking from his back. Your lips curl in a sneer of contempt as his staff falls with a clatter, the carved crescent moon cracking from its head as you lever your arm, lifting the bag of bones and thin blood upwards via the spear through his sternum.

>cont
>>
>>2653399
>cont

"Pathetic"
You spit as his lips part in a silent scream of agony, watery blood trickling between whiskered lips. Your other arm pistons out, driving the storm blade through his belly, the broad blade severing intestine and spine without resistance.

Blood courses down the hilts of the blades as you lift the dying priest overhead, his limbs going limp as blood pours from his body and over your armor. With a snarl of rage and a wrench of your arms, your blades shear his body in twain, showering you and the immediate area in gore and viscera.

Dropping his legs and midsection, intestines and offal spilling from the devastating wound, you grip his torso by the collar of his robes. Amazingly, he grips at your wrist, blood streaming from his lips as he gasps for breath against the spear through his lungs. Gripping his throat, you press him bodily against the bosom of the wooden idol, your free hand reaching down, fingers curling around a long bladed ritual dagger.

The old priests eyes never leave yours as you drive the dagger through his chest, nailing him to the idol like a pegged insect. Pulling your spear free of his corpse you flick blood from the blade, the crimson liquid dripping down your face. You regard the now grisly idol, tue angelic face of the Lady seems to regard you with cold fury, blood dripping down the carved and painted face.

From the shadows of the alcove behind the altar, a choked sob and the scuffle of bare feet reaches your ears...

>What do?
>>
>>2653361
>Do you think we could convince these people to freely support us, are we an orator? Do we have the means to do such conversions?

Of course not, but the precedent is there from the two men we picked up early in the quest. Even if it's taking people as thralls or forcing them to pay tribute for us not to destroy their village, a better use can be had from non combatants than just destroying everything. But, as I said there has been evidence that not everyone is happy with the current order of things, it's something that could be exploited in the future. Something else to keep in mind is the potential manpower if we were able to unite all the tribes, pretty paltry compared to what our enemies have.

>>2653372
I skip the waifu stuff desu
>>
>>2653400
Run around and kill people. Engage those guards.
>>
>>2653400
Take the silver eyes and the metal candle sticks.
>>
>>2653400
>wat do?
Go see what the sob was. It its a nun, tie her up then go outside and start fucking shit up.
>>
>>2653400
check on the sobbing of course
>>
>>2653400
>"Stand up, and meet your fate with dignity. Even this old man did as much."
>>
>>2653399
>>2653400

> Look into the idol's eyes

> "I expected more, do better next time. Heh. Urhost and the lads are gonna shit when I tell 'em 'bout this!"

> Raise our voice

> "I know you're behind there little shits. I just gutted your priest, pinned him to an altar, and your feckless goddess did jack-shit to stop me. Tell you what, I'm in a good mood, so I'll give you ten seconds to leave this temple. After that, it's getting the torch and anyone left is getting the blade. Tell the next priest you see that Magnus the Mighty sent you and that he's coming with a vengeance."

> Proceed to take the priest's skull as a momento, pry out the statue's eyes, and plunder everything vaguely valuable in sight before burning the temple and leaving to participate in the battle.
>>
>>2653417
>not checking the chapel for wine before burning it
>>
>>2653417
I'll vote for this.
>>
>>2653400
This >>2653405, and then burn the whole place to the ground. Turn this "holy" place into an offering of smoke to Vall. Once we're done with looting and burning, we can hunt around for trouble spots to rip and tear.
>>
>>2653417
sure
>>
>From the shadows of the alcove behind the altar, a choked sob and the scuffle of bare feet reaches your ears...
Guys I think it might be a child

>>2653417
> "I expected more, do better next time. Heh. Urhost and the lads are gonna shit when I tell 'em 'bout this!"
I font get it. Kill an old mad was nothing cool or fantastic.

> Proceed to take the priest's skull as a momento
Ew. Did we even take the skull of the last priest? Not sure if the wives will like it.

I just realized if we take they eyes and candlesticks we'll divide the loot.
>>
>>2653400
Right I also forgot to ask to check for wine
>>
>>2653467

> I font get it. Kill an old mad was nothing cool or fantastic.

That's the point, it's a joke. A sadistic, fucked up joke we'll keep the skull to remind ourselves of.
>>
So the town is a few hours or something away. If the peasant are at full sprint then we might have a single hour.
We get a single hour to loot and set up the trap.
>>
>gonna have to get some rest boys. Its late here and my brain is slowly being reduced to sludge. Feel free to drop comments/suggestions/ideas or criticisms while im out. They will be answered as soon as im able tomorrow
>>
>I HAVE RETURNED
>DistantWarhorns.mp3
>Who all is still here?
>>
File: 1529081533823m.jpg (149 KB, 1024x768)
149 KB
149 KB JPG
>>2654311

> he can't
>>
>>2654311
Ahoy
>>
>>2654311
Im here thoguh its my b.day
So gf is tanking me around the city and i dont know ehat we are doing but il try to vote
>>
>>2654363
Happy BDay amigo. Make sure your Gf doesn't crash and kill you both
>>
>>2654311
I'm here for one round, I'm going to pass out soon though.
>>
You lean on the Kimmel of the Storm blade, the ancient greatsword crackling with static as the tip gouged into the smooth stone of the floor. You spit onto the worn surface and eye the grisly and defiled altar with a artists eye. The blank silver orbs of the Idols eyes seem to lock onto yours, her once angelic face now seeming to be warped into icy rage. You speak aloud, your voice echoing through the silence of the chapel
"Maybe next time have a better challenge waiting for me. The more weaklings you put in my way, the more of their blood will spill in Vall's name."

You turn slowly, angling your head toward the alcove the Priest emerged from.
"I know you're there. I know youre listening. Your priest is dead. Your village is burning. Run little ones. Run and tell the others."
Your voice echoes like the verdict of a god, ringing from the stone and bringing terrified sobs from the alcove, the patter of bare feet and the slam of a small wooden door.
"Tell them I am coming. Tell them death comes for you all"

You turn back to the idol, drawing your dagger from your belt. Wedging it into the carefully carved eye sockets of the idol, you wiggle it back and forth, prying forth the silver orbs of its eyes. Tucking the rounded egg sized orbs into a pouch in your belt, you smirk, hefting your weapons over your shoulders and stepping out through the shattered doors, the feeling of looming hatred trailing you with every step.

While you were preoccupied, your forces set to the village like wolves against a sheep. Bodies litter the ground, hacked apart, mutilated and stuffed with arrows. Only a handful of the homes and structures in the village are alight, sending plumes of smoke and cinders skyward. Desperate knots of guards struggle to fight free of the rampaging raiders, villagers fleeing left, right and center. Meiers Skirmishers take potshots at the fleeing peasants, sending several tumbling, feathered with shafts.

>that group of guards is making a break for the stables

>Those villagers are desperate to hold that inn

>Those men in that hay loft think themselves marksmen.
>>
>>2654448
>that group of guards is making a break for the stables
>>
>>2654448
Direct our men at the guards, we can take the poor fucking archers.
>>
>>2654448

> didn't use anon's speech

For shame.

> Those men in that hay loft think themselves marksmen

They present the greatest threat to our men.
>>
Rolled 48 (1d100)

>Send Raiders to stop the guards
>Engage the archers in the hay loft
>Roll me 1d100+15. Bo3. Beat my roll
>I also need 2 rolls of 1d6. First rolls first serve.
>>
Rolled 100 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2654496
>>
Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>2654496
Also the 1d6
>>
Rolled 40 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2654496
>>2654507
my nigga
>>
>>2654507
Whoa Thats a nat crit! Would you like to bank this and save it for a rainy day? You have passed the DC with
>>2654516

Sooooo... Bank?
>Y/N
>>
>>2654507

HUZZAH!
>>
>>2654531

Nein, decimating the archers single-handedly will do wonders for Dagmar's perception of us.
>>
>>2654531
bank it
>>
Rolled 43 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>2654540
I think that's the raiders roll though
>>2654531
will need it for te main fight bank
>>
>>2654540
That's the roll for your raiders killing the guards before they escape on the horses. You have yet to engage in combat.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>
>>2654546
Bank it support. Pull the archers arms off and tie the stumps with rope. Let them know Magnus comes.
>>
>>2654553

Ah, fair enough, bank it. Hey, what happens when we use a banked crit on a natural crit?
>>
>>2654531
I'll bank it.
>>
>>2654575
That's a divide by zero situation. Magnus ascends to the heavens and starts spitroasting Nyx with Vall
>>
>58>48. Raiders slaughter the fleeing guards.
>5+5. Two groups of 5 archers.

You swivel your head like a hungry beast, your eyes fixation on a group of ragged, bloody guards scurrying towards the stables. Their chainmail is rusted, their spears flimsy and smeared with blood. You level your blade in their direction, your bellow catching the ears of a group of your raiders.
"Kill them"

And with that order, your will is done. Your raiders pelt after the men, hatchet and blades wet with fire, faces smeared with blood. The guards are quickly overtaken, their desperate shouts cut off with the wet thwack of steel in flesh. Blood arcs high as your men rip the guards apart in a savage moment of battle-fury.

You stride through the carnage of the village, ignoring a screaming maid rushing by, a squalling babe clutched in her arms.

You step over the body of a burly smith, his chest studded with arrows, his hammer smeared with blood and brains. Blood soaks his speckled beard as he coughs out his life.

The evil hiss of a passing arrow catches your ear and you turn just in time to witness one of Dagmars raiders stumble, a arrow jutting from under his ribcage. He curses, blood on his lips before slowly sagging against the smoldering wall of a home.

You turn your gaze on a barn a short distance from the village. In its hay loft, the doors swung wide open, a group of villagers armed with hoes send arrows hissing out against your men. In the lower level of the barn, another group hold the entryway, pitchforks and wood axes clutched in their hands.

>what do?
>>
>>2654745
also Crit Banked! 1/3
>>
>>2654745
>>what do?
Fuckin burn down the farm.
>>
>>2654745
>armed with bows not hoes.
>>
>>2654745
Pull out shield, duck into it and run up to ruin their day
>>
Anybody else want to vote?
>>
>>2654810
err I'll support this to get things moving
>>
>>2654810
>>2654882

I'll back this, as it's the most sensible course of action.
>>
>Switch to Storm blade and blessed great shield.

You sheath your battle spear, swinging your shield around and slotting your forearm through the loops in its interior. Heftibg the slab of silvered steel you hold it in front of you, shielding your body with its impenetrable bulk.

Your feet carry you forth in a pounding run as you barrel towards the fortified barn. Arrows hiss in your direction as the archers take notice of the shield-bearing behemoth and adjust their fire. Bolts skip across your shield, the curved surface shedding the arrows like rain on a boulder as you draw closer and closer. Shouts of alarm ring out as arrowheads leave shining smears across your shield, your armored boots leaving deep imprints in the soft soil as you quicken your pace.

A wordless roar bursts from your lips as the doors to the barn swing closed, the men inside foolishly believing it will save them. You grit your teeth and smash into it like a stone from a siege engine, simply ripping it from its hinges and sending the men holding it shut flying.

You straighten, rolling your shoulders as dust filters down from the ceiling, the men above shouting in questioning alarm. Those unlucky enough to be on your level however, back away, pitchforks clutched like spears, axes and hoes clutched like their lives depend on it. You swivel your neck, taking in their terrified faces and smile behind your helm.
"Well then... Who goes first?"

>Magnus has engaged:
Bren the Miller
>100hp
>O armor

Noll Twistfoot
>100hp
>O armor

Hael ThurstSon
>100hp
>0 armor

"Little" Greth
>130hp
>0 armor

Private Ilvar
>115 HP
>15 armor

>Attack

>Defend

>Special Attack

>Fight dirty (what do)

>other
>>
>>2654943
>>Attack
>>
>>2654943
>Private Ilvar
>attack
move up the list if he dies.
>>
>>2654943
>>Special Attack
Actually, let's do that whirlwind attack.
>>
Rolled 26, 8, 66, 84, 9, 5, 89, 48, 72, 62, 21, 90, 62, 95, 4 = 741 (15d100)

>Magnus is Attacking

>Bren is attacking

>Noll is defending

>Hael is Defending

>Greth is Attacking

>Ilvar is Attacking

>Roll me 5 sets of 4d100+10. Your first 3 rolls must beat mine to hit. Your 4th d100 must beat 50 to land.
>>
Rolled 18, 14, 76, 60 + 10 = 178 (4d100 + 10)

>>2655085
>>
Rolled 19, 51, 3, 4 + 10 = 87 (4d100 + 10)

>>2655085
>>
Rolled 70, 39, 82, 65 + 10 = 266 (4d100 + 10)

>>2655085
>>
>>2655105
fucking ell
>>
>>2654943
Light the barn on fire from within and hold the doorway to the outside. Anyone who tries to escape dies. The fire gets the archers.
>>
>still need 2 more sets of 4d100+10
>>
Rolled 87, 54, 61, 82 + 10 = 294 (4d100 + 10)

>>2655085
>>
Rolled 58, 26, 100, 60 + 10 = 254 (4d100 + 10)

>>2655140
>>
Rolled 6, 71, 62, 97 + 10 = 246 (4d100 + 10)

>>2655140
>>
>>2655222
BAAAAAAANNNKKKKKKK
>>
>>2655222
Bank it like a Hebrew
>>
Rolled 99, 41, 73, 86 + 10 = 309 (4d100 + 10)

>>2655140
>>
Rolled 3, 44, 63, 2, 47 = 159 (5d100)

Hit results:

Bren-
28>26. Magnus hits
24>8. Magnus hits
86>66. Magnus hits
>70>50. Magnus hits

Noll-
>84>29. Noll defends
>61>9. Magnus hits
>13>5. Magnus hits
>14<50. Magnus misses

Hael:
>89>80. Hael defends
>49>48. Magnus hits
>92>72. Magnus hits
>75>50. Magnus hits

Greth:
>97>62. Magnus hits
>64>21. Magnus hits
>90>71. Greth hits
>92>50. Magnus hits.

Ilvar:
>68>62. Magnus hits
>95>36. Ilvar hits
>110>4. Magnus hits. Natural crit! Extra damage die in play
>70>50. Magnus hits!

>Magnus is equipped with Great Weapon (2 damage die per hit)
>I need differing rolls. First come first serve. Gimme...
>2 rolls of 8d100+10
>1 roll 4d100+10
>2 rolls of 6d100+10.
>Feel free to samefag if rolls are slow this will be replaced eventually by a more sophisticated system
>>
Rolled 6, 42, 25 = 73 (3d100)

>>2655436
Rolled the wrong dice.
>>
Rolled 59, 55, 81, 9, 85, 93, 95, 67 + 10 = 554 (8d100 + 10)

>>2655436
>>
Rolled 34, 44, 56, 27, 56, 86, 48, 74 = 425 (8d100)

>>2655436
>>
Rolled 10, 33, 41, 51 + 10 = 145 (4d100 + 10)

>>2655436
>>
Rolled 65, 25, 2, 81, 52, 16 + 10 = 251 (6d100 + 10)

>>2655436
>>
Rolled 14, 77, 18, 85, 35, 45 + 10 = 284 (6d100 + 10)

>>2655436
>>
Rolled 91, 47, 84, 33, 69, 78 + 10 = 412 (6d100 + 10)

>>2655436
>>
>>2653372
First two were kinda willing but number three was definitely rape
>>
Rolled 67, 31, 12, 35, 13, 10, 26, 56 + 10 = 260 (8d100 + 10)

>>2655436
>>
>>2655436
Arch Magnus
>200hp
>75 armor (blessed Great shield)
42+6=48
48-75=-27. No damage dealt
25-75=-50. No damage dealt

Bren the Miller
>100hp
>O armor
4 hits. 594 total damage
100-594=-494. Bren is gruesomely slain

Noll Twistfoot
>100hp
>O armor
2 hits. 145 total damage.
100-145=-45. Noll is brutally killed

Hael ThurstSon
>100hp
>0 armor
3 hits. 251 total damage.
100-251=-151. Hael is butchered!

"Little" Greth
>130hp
>0 armor
3 hits. 284 total damage.
130-284=-154. Greth is torn asunder.

Private Ilvar
>115 HP
>15 armor
78-15=63
83-15=78
142-15=127
122-15=107
63+78+127+107=375 damage
>115-375=-260. Ilvar is carved apart.

>sorry for the long wait. Ill work on refining the combat system more this is insane.
>>
>>2655497
oof
>>
The silence in the barn is profound for a moment, the men facing you pale and tight faced, their weapons trembling slightly at the blood dripping in beads from your armor. Your shield and blade are held loloosely, in an almost relaxed grip as you smile behind your helm, daring one of them to make the first move.

Right on cue, one of them, a broadly built man with a ruddy face and crooked nose, charges you with a shout, his pitchfork leveled at your belly. His eyes clench shut, his head turned down and fists clenched right on the wooden shaft of the farm implement. Its more than a simple matter for you to adjust your body, bringing your shield across your body, the heavy steel slab smashing across his head like a hammer blow. Dazed, blood sheeting from his nose and mouth, the villager stumbles, shattered teeth falling from his torn lips as ge staggers to the side. With a almost careless swipe, you bring the storm blade around in a looping slash that buried the ancient blade into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You turn your gaze towards the other villagers, your hand gripping the hilt of the curved greatsword as the stricken man sags to his knees, blood pouring from the ruinous slash through muscle and bone. With a contemptuous jerk, you rip the blade from his flesh, the dragging of metal on bone affirming what these men feared most.

They will die here.

You explode into motion, lunging forward and bringing your blade down towards the skull of a grey haired peasant, the wood axe in his hands coming up reflexively, the stout wooden shaft catching the edge of your blade. His eyes widen in shock as he stares at the silver-white edge. Another inch and it would be buried in his skull so deeply it would scrape his spine.

"Lucky"
You snarl, your knee coming up in a brutal gut-blow that sends the crackle of shattering ribs vibrating through your leg. The bearded man crumpled, gripping his midsection as bloody saliva and spittle drip from his lips. Reversing your grip on the greatsword, you bring it down in a powerful downward stab that pierces through the center of the villagers back, driving through his chest and into the dirt floor of the barn.

You jerk as a blow slams into your back, the two handed slam of a mattock into your back nearly making you stumble forward. You turn, bringing your shield up to catch another blow as the round faced oaf wielding the implement swings again. His shining face is pale and streaked with sweat, his eyes wide with fear as his blow rebounds from the metal surface. Striking like a snake, the rim of your shield punches out, the wet crunch of bone grinding out as you piston it into his kneecap. The simpleton groans in pain as he clutches his knee, his weapon forgotten in his agony. He never even sees the blow that kills him, an enraged hacking chop with the storm-blade that cleaved open his body from shoulder to hip, sending him toppling as two spurting sections.

>Cont
>>
>>2655578

A axe hisses in the air as it cuts through the air, its wielder a wild eyed blonde headed youth. The rusted chain and cloth of his garb identify him as a member of the village. You backstep, turning to avoid a second blow that buries the axe into a support post for the barn. Wisely, rather than attempting to wrench it free he releases the axe, drawing a dagger from his belt and lashing out with the curved blade. You look down at the thin line scored across your armor and nearly sigh in disgust as you lash out with your blade. His eyes widen in sudden agony as his thigh is slashed to the bone, the heavy greatsword shearing through mail and cloth like silk, hacking deep enough to crack the bone. Before his howl of agony has even left his lips, you wheel, bringing your blade around in a blurring slash that sees his head topple from his shoulders, the truncated corpse collapsing in a twitching heap.

Rolling your neck, you cough out against the stink of violent death, turning to regard the last man standing against you. Standing doesn't really describe what he is doing however as he attempts to press himself farther into the corner away from you. Blood spatters his face and clothes, a liquid dark stain dripping down his trousers as you sigh in disgust, advancing on him. You mutter under your breathe at the mans crazed cowardice, his weapon not even raised to defend himself.
"Really? This is how youre going to die?"
You ask the man pointedly, looking down at the cowering, greasy haired villager.

His only response is a choked sob and cringing, begging and pleading that honestly only worsens your mood. The three hacking chops that see him reduced to a pile of steaming organs and rent flesh are cathartic, the blood that spatters your face and armor almost refreshing as you regard the single ladder leading to the hay loft where the archers are surely waiting for you.

>You can take a couple arrows (up the ladder)

>those support beams look flimsy (feat of strength)

>Fire the barn (fight dirty)

>other
>>
>>2655641
>You can take a couple arrows (up the ladder)
>>
>>2655641
>those support beams look flimsy (feat of strength)
>>
>>2655641
>>those support beams look flimsy (feat of strength)
>>
>Feat of Strength
>Controlled Demolition edition
>DC60
>Roll me 1d100+20
>Bo3!
>>
Rolled 65 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2655719
>>
Rolled 79 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2655719
>>
Rolled 54 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2655719
>>
>>2655641
>>those support beams look flimsy (feat of strength)

Slaughtering pitiful villagers is kinda meh honestly.
>>
Rolled 82 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2655719
Retard strength die, go!
>>
>79+20=99>69.

You snort in amusement and turn away from the ladder, the hushed whispers of the men above you doing little more than tell you where they are and that they lie in wait. While you are mkre than confident in your ability to take a few arrows, you have a much more direct method of getting to those men.

Similar to your less than respectful entrance to the chapel, your armored boot lashes out at the support beams for the upper level of the barn. Wood splinters and cracks, the hushed whispers turning to panicked shouts as you snap each support beam like a matchstick. Taking a running charge, you slam your armored shoulder into the last beam in your path. Wood creaks and groans as the floor above sags, nails and pegs holding against the weight of the roof, the floor above, the straw and hay and the menough above.

You step back out of the way as the hay loft floor collapses under its own weight, wood splintering, men yelling in shock and pain, the crack of further supports splitting apart.

Your backstep takes you out of the barn as the structure groans, its walla shaking as its interior collapses in on itself. Pained groans and pleas for aid echo out of the collapsed barn. Through the dust and floating hay, you can make out the figures of several men half buried in the contents of the hay loft.

>Put them down yourself.

>leave them, they are no concern of yours

>Throw a torch in there

>other
>>
>>2655894
>other
We could use thralls to help carry our loot later
>>
>>2655894
>leave them, they are no concern of yours

>>2655931
That would require digging them and we have more people to kill. We can dig them out if we have the time. Yeah?
>>
>>2655931
Plus I'm not sure if we're allowed to get thralls at the moment.
>>
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72 KB
72 KB JPG
>>2655894
The torch.
>>
>>2655943
correct. The raids against the villages are just a smokescreen. You arent taking prisoners or loot from these.
>>
>>2655894
>leave them, they are no concern of yours
>>
>>2655894
>>leave them, they are no concern of yours
>>
>>2655750
Yeah that's the point of this little combat bit. To emphasis exactly how powerful you are against regular people. The only real challenges you will face are from the elite soldiers, heroes, tribal warriors and monsters.
>>
>>2656031
>tribal warriors
are you talking about people like marauders that follow us or something else
>>
>>2655894

> The torch to them

The best among them will survive and tell tales of the Crag Wolf's ferocity, and the rest will die a deserved coward's death.

>>2656031

You say that, but we've yet to face more than a handful of peasants at a time. I doubt we'd fare so well against thirty disciplined levy spearmen.
>>
>>2656046
>The valley of the moon, according to Wren, is mobilizing for war. Ragged streams of green recruits, armored columns of legionairres and bands of lancers march along the roadways. All headed north. According to the far ranging ears of the scout master, a horde of Highlanders has besieged the Gates, the painted madmen fighting tooth and nail to pierce the iron hide of the Legion. If that weren't enough, the Wildfolk seem to have risen as one, forged together under one banner. They aren't allied with the Highlanders it seems, but they aren't killing each other for the most part. Wren wraps himself with an oiled skin and leans against a tree trunk, watching the storm pass overhead.
>>
>>2656051
We're fucking massive, have magic runes, ghost whisper to us and help guide our strikes, oh and we also gain health from the blood we spill. There's more of course, but you underestimate the sheer hell that Magnus can unleash.
>>
>>2656051
Magnus's Spear is factually longer than any disciplined levy spearmen spear.
Fucker could probably spin circles with his spear/sword and cleave them all.
>>
>Leave them.

Judging by the pitiful groans of pain and pleas for aid, you can gather it will be hours before those men are free of the crushing weight. By then you'll be long gone and they are no threat to you in their current position.

Not even bothering to glance in their direction, you turn back towards the burning village, the lightning raid dying down now that most of the residents of the town have either fled or been reduced to cooling corpses. Screams and shouts of bloodlust echo out of the homes still standing, blood reducing the soil to slimy mud.

Dagmar strides through the center of the village, his lackeys peeling off to drag his prematurely celebrating men out into the open and off of their struggling mounts.
"No time for fun boys!"
He roars, cuffing a protesting raider across the jaw with the hilt of his shortsword.
"We've got two more villages to hit before those sheep fuckers get to Crescent hall! Burn everything! We'll get our share when we get to the town!"

With a cheer, his men set to demolishing everything in sight. What few structures remain intact are put to the torch, flames roaring high and driving out those hiding within. You nod to Urhost, the veteran warrior wiping his face clean of blood with a rag.
"Just two more today"
You call out, grinning despite your weariness.

He shakes his head, chuckling to himself
"Just two? Fuckin' youngsters..."

>Timeskip to next raid.

>Timeskip to ambush

>Speak with a Lieutenant

>Speak with Dagmar

>other
>>
>>2656069
on top of that we are wearing literally tattered chain and leather with proper plate or chain mail we would be a otherworldly tank
>>
>>2656102
>Speak with a Lieutenant
How did things go on their end? Did anyone suffer any casualties? Anything out of the ordinary? Let's get a body count on the men who were directly under our supervision.

>other
The Stable -if still standing and not on fire- might have a few horses for our men to use, and possible carry the ones too injured to walk fast.
>>
>>2655939
>>2655943
Fair enough.

Well, who is going to tell us we can't?

>>2656031
Well, I get it but I just frown at poor fellas being chopped to bits who don't even want to fight.

Our real enemies are the moon fanatics and the like, poor hapless villagers trying to defend their patch of dirt I feel bad for.

>>2656102
>>Timeskip to ambush
>>
>>2656128
>>
>>2656102
Timeskip to ambush, at this rate I'll be old and dead by the time we get to town.
>>
I wonder if the other two villages will have something worth fighting or something of note worth taking. The two silver eyes for example.
>>
>>2656102
>Timeskip to next raid
>>
>>2656102
>>Timeskip to next raid.
Looks like people want to just time skip, so let's time skip.
>>
>>2656166
>I feel bad for for
stop this moralfaggotry
>>
>>2656313
Mindless slaughter of weaklings is pretty pointless my man, may as well be running around skinning cats if you just want to edgelord it.
>>
>>2656330
Where were you when the moonlight valley where razing and killing our people? Where were you when we became a shadow of our former selves pushed back into the mountains? Where were you when we had to steal to eat and fight to hold a home?

This valley with their cruel Goddess and their damnable lords decimated us over and over and threw us away. Now we're rising in power and while generations have passed, all of the valley is to pay. Citizens may wonder why their maiden allows us to pass, and we're getting our revenge long sought. We have to fight to survive. Where is it morale to drive a line between taking lives and driving slaves? Who gets to draw that line? Today, on days like these. We take back our glory and we take back our homes. The offenders of our blood unwilling to bow down before our wisdom can gurgle blood and burn with their homes.
>>
>>2656330
This isn't mindless you worthless moralfag, and even if it was, it'd still be in-character.
We're raiding mostly to draw out sizable reinforcements from moon cunts, to ambush and then trojan-horse the town. We've raided the other villages for resources and thralls, because we're fucking barbarians and because all those villages belonged to moon cunts too.
>>
>>2656330
you have read the older threads right?
>>
>>2656330
Most of the civilians were allowed to flee, there is purpose to all of this in that as >>2656369 points out, we're looking to pull more significant military out of position.

Shit man, personally we've only killed representatives of our mortal enemy and combatants during this raid.
>>
>>2656102
>>Timeskip to next raid
>>
>>2656069
>>2656106

Maybe, but with that many men, it's a given a few would get lucky.

>>2656102

> Timeskip to next raid
>>
>>2656366
>Where were you when the moonlight valley where razing and killing our people?

Was it bob the simple farmer?

Well there haven't been a lot of offers to allow people to bow down that I've seen, just saying.

>>2656369
Yes I know, and stopping guards from getting on horse to flee earlier? Counter productive to that end. iirc weren't civilians targeted just the same as guards? In any case, I've got no qualms fighting those who want to fight, especially none slaughtering those whom we actually have a grudge against.

>>2656373
Yes I have, and the precedent stands from our very first raid.

Beyond simply calling me a moralfag, look to the manpower our enemies possess, we can't hope to compete with that even if we peacefully brought together all the tribes. We stand to gain a lot by lifting the heel of the moon lords from the people close to us and putting them under our heel. Think as well to having those fertile fields being farmed by people who we tax rather than destroying it all.

Conqueror is superior to being a destroyer. I'll grant you that we're in no position to realistically conquer much in the valley just yet, but at least it's something we should look to in the future. If we devastate everything now though, the pickings will be slim.
>>
>Timeskip to ambush
Lets get to fighting the lancers
>>2656330
I see your point, but as qm said, establishing how powerful we really are is a good touch.
I do think it would be excessive to do this two more times, when we could skip to the real challenge imo
>>
>>2656390
changing to
>timeskip to ambush
>>2656102
>>
>>2656415
Real talk though. The moonvalley has fucked up the original tribe and scattered us all apart? If we're caught walking in their territory and a Moonknight Calvary will be sent to fuck our shit up. Sure, a lot of these folks are innocent farmers, but what are we supposed to do? Ask nicely for our land back? No, our children are taught at a young age of why and how they live. And the current moonlords are the reason we have to stay that way. We can't just sneak into their castles and slit their throats while they're sleeping, but I think you're all too aware of this. We kill their people, we kill their supply and their food.

Also conquering would not work. Our power is in guerilla tactics and creativity. If we tried sitting down and holding a village. The moonknights would kick our fucking shit in.

We have to attack civilian targets and take what we can. War is hell.
>>
>>2656459
kill the parents
indoctrinate the children
enslave the weak
....
also fat loot
>>
>>2656415
>wants options to let opponents surrender
>wants us NOT to stop armed and trained guards
You're a retarded moralfag, anon
>intimidated by mooncunts manpower, that had been explicitly stated multiple times to be occupied elsewhere
Even if the above isn't true
>doesn't understand guerilla warfare
>thinks we're planning on fighting the mooncunts legion head on in a week
>wants to leave farmland for the mooncunts to just march in and take back
>wants to tax peasants instead of using them as thralls
Jesus, are you genuinely fucking mentally handicapped you fucking dickless moralfaggot? I honestly don't think you've read any of the old threads. You should probably go back to your anime harem qst
>>
>>2656478
Yep. Looter get's it, I may be slightly polite but mercy ain't exactly our deal. If it helps, I doubt we're much for torture and suffering. The rush and crunch is more our speed.
>>
>>2656489
oh and employ the strong enough survivors such as Lionel and Balon.
>>
>>2656459
>but what are we supposed to do? Ask nicely for our land back?
>And the current moonlords are the reason we have to stay that way. We can't just sneak into their castles and slit their throats while they're sleeping, but I think you're all too aware of this. We kill their people, we kill their supply and their food.

I am well aware, I'm not saying that we just go around trying to diplomance everything. I don't think we could hurt by looking into alternatives from simply destroying everything. This raid should yield a nice fat bounty, even if we aren't the ones to collect the lions share, at this juncture. I think next we should look to bringing the rest of the tribes together by whatever means, perhaps capturing more war beasts, even looking towards allies, giants, other enemies of the moon lords, local bandits and "heretics" of the valley and so on.

>>2656479
>>wants us NOT to stop armed and trained guards
>You're a retarded moralfag, anon

The point is to get word back to the city and draw out reinforcements for an ambush, I'm pretty sure stopping people from getting on horses and fleeing is counter productive to that...

>occupied elsewhere

For now.

By tax I didn't just mean in food and goods, I guess I should have said levies as well to be clear. Like I said, it's not possible as we stand right now, it's simply something we should work towards.

>>thinks we're planning on fighting the mooncunts legion head on in a week

Show me where I inferred that at all.

>>wants to leave farmland for the mooncunts to just march in and take back

Destroy it all and we'll have nothing left to raid.

>>wants to tax peasants instead of using them as thralls

Who is to say some of both can't be done? A serf works just the same as a thrall in any case.

Be chaotic stupid all you want anon, but it won't get proper results.
>>
>>2656501
Of course! The best of em get to be one of us. Means they can get glory, gold and women. What some of the moral people don't seem to get is this world sucks. We're strong and we protect our own. You stand with us, you're one of us. Eventually.
>>
>anons want to skip the other two towns
>want to go straight to the muggening of cavalry
>not wanting to look more eyes and candle sticks
>not even a few horses
I can't describe how much this hurts me right now.
>>
When will there be amazon warriors that can crush skulls with their thighs?
>>
>>2656513
shall we give the moonlords constituents a hefty donation to sway their political process? We don't exactly have a heel to stand on. We can't even make allies enough with other tribes. We need might. And might speaks. And giving it to the moonies is just a sweet bonus.
>>
>Timeskip to next raid
Or
>Timeskip to actual ambush

Need a decisive vote
>>
>>2656533

>Timeskip to actual ambush
>>
>>2656128
Actually, I'm changing my vote back to this. >>2656533
>>
>>2656533
>Timeskip to next raid
n-need more loot d-deus
>>
>>2656531
We could've had one. Some people like smol thief waifus. Nothing wrong with that. Wouldn't mind a fit, mean, badass shieldmaiden though. No sir.
>>
>>2656551
I voted for that sweet blind nun pussy.
>>
>>2656533
>>Timeskip to next raid
>>
>>2656551
we could train our wives some time in a few months from now.

>>2656552
Rape a priestess? So long as they're...let's say the top range age limit is 55 years or younger and not too saggy.
>>
>>2656533
>>Timeskip to actual ambush
>>
>>2656561
Naw. Only one is steely. Not quite a warrior though. So far, they all like that we can provide a much better life. I mean, sure train a good woman to protect our home and family. But a comely baker, or a thief, etc won't be good to march with us. Now a revived feral nature spirit? Maybe a decent battle waifu.
>>
>>2656581
I was think more along the lines of "knowledgeable enough it the ways of combat to kill a person in self defense should the need arise."
>>
>>2656592
Oh. Then yea, train away. I can dig it Looter.
>>
>>2656532
>shall we give the moonlords constituents a hefty donation to sway their political process?

I don't pretend to have all the answers anon, I know good and well that we aren't in a position right now to simply wade in and say hey we're the boss now. I am saying that we should work on being in that position though. We need to build our foundation, and sure raids and loot will help us build that foundation, but I think it's fair to say that we can take on more men from the valley to fill our ranks, children to train in the pit, women to breed more crag wolves, and the other useless for plain old labor thralls.

Really, I am quite interested in the dynamics of heretics and bandits in the valley though. It could be beneficial to make our inhospitable land a haven for those who don't worship the moon bitch.
>>
>>2656622
Not really. If any weakness is detected, clans will just raid the fuck out of us. By doing that, you'd have killed us all.
>>
>>2656628
Why would we have left any of the other tribes capable of doing that?
>>
>>2656102
If we can, loot the smith's shop for tools and trinkets, otherwise we have better places to be. which follows up with a timeskip to ambush or raid. whatever you want.
>>
>>2656533
unless we are going to find more baubles or some story items, ill go for the ambush. Ohterwise you can give a high level of the other two raids if that is acceptable.
>>
>going to be adjusting combat in the quest to a more streamlined style. The duel system will remain as the competing dice system but ill be adopting Nongents systen from Warlord Side story as it it fitted to group combat. You will still decide what to do but Ill be rolling damage on my end, corresponding with Magnus's weapon stats. This will hopefully streamline combat against foot soldiers. Against 0 armor villager or tribal mooks, it will basically be a "what do" sscenario.

Let me know what you think? Im always trying to improve the experience for all involved
>>
>>2656749
Well, personally I love detailed combat, but I love story more. It's a toss up for me.
>>
>>2656780
Combat will still be detailed, it will just flow a little better hopefully
>>
>>2656749
Speedier and more efficient rolls are always appreciated, thanks Curse.
>>
>>2656790
For basic tier(unimportant) stuff (caravan raids, village razing, etc) it will basically be rolls for success followed by a detailed summary of what occurs interspersed with options of what to do.

Important battles will be broken into sections of combat and strategy, moving from where you are needed to achieve objectives.
>>
>Timeskip to actual ambush seems to be the winmer
>Can I have 2d100 to see how the raids go. Bo3.
>>
Rolled 41, 41 = 82 (2d100)

>>2656902
>>
Rolled 35, 72 = 107 (2d100)

>>2656902
>>
Rolled 47, 47 = 94 (2d100)

>>2656902
>>
>>2656902
>>
Rolled 74, 13 = 87 (2d100)

>>2656909
>>2656919
dubs but no loot from other two towns
sad
>>
>>2656909
>>2656919
spooky
>>
You stand above the sunken roadway, the well worn path trodden into the terrain by years and years of plodding feet and wagon wheels. On either side of the road, hidden in thick brush and the undergrowth, wait Crag Wolf warriors. Dagmar has stretched his men along a short stretch of the bank, the men crouched low, ears pricked for the oncoming quarry.

You lift your head, clotted blood and filth smeared across your armor, the stubby, splintered shaft of an arrow jutting from the cured leather of your upper shoulder, the last lucky shot of a brave huntsman. Smeared and tacky blood soaks your forearms, seeping into the leather and cloth underneath the heavy gauntlets encasing your fists.

In the distance, three greasy pillars of smoke curl upwards, the only remnants of the villages of Moongaze, Yoel's Chapel and Silverbirch. Their residents scattered or butchered, the survivors sent scurrying to Crescent Hall, crying out about monsters from the mountains, eaters of flesh and devourers of souls. It seems your conversation witg Dagmar had effect, the man himself keeping his men more or less in check. While the slaughter was brutal and savage, it was efficient, the raiders deprived their normal sadism.

Urhost and Arvel flank you, their weapons drawn and caked with half dried blood. Each of them is blank faced, dark eyed, the bloodshed of the day sending them to a cold space within their minds. Killing must be done and they will follow you to hell and back to see it done.

Wren and his Skirmishers range ahead along the road, their keen eyes and ears ever watchful for the approaching column of guardsmen and lancers. From Dagmars projections and Wrens own estimate, there should be just over a hundred of them. A show of force to pacify the area and bring the villages back under the local lords control.

Hushed whispers break out in the crouching ranks behind you. A silent twist to your head, regarding them with one blazing eye silences the talkative men, returning to their coiled crouch. You roll your neck and shoulders, your sodden leathers clinging to your flesh as a faint noise on the wind reaches your ears.

A horses whinny. The faint tramp of boots on packed soil. The unworried conversation of men who believe they own the land. Right on cue comes a series of birdcalls, so perfectly imitated even you have trouble discerning them from the real thing. All of this tells you one thing. The one thing you *need* to know

They are coming.

Your ambush point is to...

>Drop a pair of nearly hewn trees into the front rank of the column

>Trigger a small rockslide and block the road

>Meet them with arrows, thrown spears and howling warriors

>A pile of dry brush, set alight to block their oath

>other
>>
>>2657041
>other
These fucks aren't fast, and we have our own horses. Everyone shoots the horses. The horses will panic and throw the riders, maybe even crush some of them. We murder them as they are on the ground, and risk ourselves the least via arrows and nets. Let the archers and Dagmar's fucking sniper have the fun. Anyone who remotely starts to get up gets crushed by our guys.
>>
>>2657041
>>2657066
do we have horses?
>>
>>2657073
the raiders seemed to have had em earlier.
>>
>>2657066
Alright, in light of not having horses. I vote to spook the horses Via a combination of several things, hopefully throwing off the riders and causing a stampede.

We block both ends of the road via the provided options, and divide them. From there we spook the horses with fire and throw the riders. Archers kill the riders and lancers in the chaos. we collect horses. easy payday.
>>
>>2657102
Fucking rope them and hope we can get them back. They'd be amazing to have.
>>
>>2657041
>Trigger a small rockslide and block the road
>Meet them with arrows, thrown spears and howling warriors
Keep the guys in the front from being able to direct their horses and everyone in between stuck. Then rangers will kill the horsemen sans the horses.
Horses are useful. Please do not lose or kill the horses. Get some reserve guys with ropes in case some horses flee.
...
Horsesareworthsomethingshutup
>>
>>2657041
>>Trigger a small rockslide and block the road
>>Meet them with arrows, thrown spears and howling warriors
>>A pile of dry brush, set alight to block their oath
All of these.
>>
>>2657136
Actually sans the fire. Never do fire you can't control.
>>
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27 KB
27 KB PNG
>>2657041
We drop the trees in the road, pile up the brush just behind them and have one guy light them up when they stop to investigate. Waiting in the woods we'll drop in behind the V-shaped fire and pour a volley or two of arrows into their formation. Once their formation is in complete chaos we'll fall on them and crush them into the flames.
>>
>>2657041
>Drop a pair of nearly hewn trees into the front rank of the column
>>
>>2657150
gotta give it to the art. changing vote.
>>
could the horse autism stop please really we live in the mountains to avoid getting run down in the fields therefore we can infer the mountains are hard to traverse for horses therefore any horse we got we would have to leave at the base of the mountain
>>
>>2657041
>Meet them with arrows, thrown spears and howling warriors
>>
>>2656330
Get the fuck out of here niggercumlicking faggot
>>
>>2657150
I vote for this one, he actually put some effort into this one.
>>
>>2657132
Why need horses when we got gryphons? They're only good for meat and leather at this point.
>>2657150
Also I'm going with this guy's idea.
>>
>>2657736
We don't have many gryphons to hand out to everyone. You are right about them being good for food and leather. The problem is transporting them from here back to the Crag, and you can't do that if the horses are dead.
>>
>>2657744
That's true, I was hoping in a decade we would get another generation of gryphon pups from the ones we already have. Didn't we steal eggs too?
>>
>>2657774
Wouldn't incest be unhealth for them, in like one or three generations? We'd have to pillage another nest and carefully keep track of cross breeding.
>>
>>2657778
Than our next priority is gryphon taming and finding more nests. After rutting and pillaging of course...
>>
>>2657778
Inbreeding takes around 20 generations to show. Is it healthy for their genetics to interbreed them? Not really. It leaves them vulnerable to disease. Will it destroy them? Not really, it takes awhile.
>>
>>2657041
I finally get my first chance in a week to check 4chan, and Warlord Quest is back? AWFUCKYEAH

>other
Ideally I'd want every option to be engaged, but as it stands I vote we do the burning blockade and stand Magnus, Dagmar's berserker friend, and any other extra-scary fucks in front of it for intimidation potential. Our skirmishers stay high and provide covering fire, our raiders hit from the back, and Dagmar's boys hit from ambush. Four-way assault: champions hold the front, skirmishers stab for the ribs, raiders slash at the back, and Dagmar goes for the kill.

That said, >>2657150's idea is badass too, and no disrespect to the guy with the actual sketched plan.
>>
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8 KB JPG
>>2657982
Don't fuck the rolls up now that you're here AxeAnon.
>>
>>2658184
Its fine if as long he dosnt roll
>>
>>2658184
>>2658201
I’m hurt that you think I’d curse us with my rolls.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2658259
1 means you're Cursed
2 means you're Lucky
>>
>>2658281
The dice gods have spoken!
>>
>>2658281
>>2658353
DAMMIT. I accept my fate.
>>
>Allfuckingrighty then im back. Sorry for the delay, familial duties and some work around the house demanded my attention and time, finite resources they are.
>Going with the idea of-
>Blockade of dry brush and trees
>archer fire from the rear and sides
>assault from the flanks

>Can I get 3 rolls of 3d100 pls? Bo3. Lets see how your ambush goes.
>>
Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>2658591
>>
Rolled 80, 49, 92 = 221 (3d100)

>>2658591
>>
Rolled 7, 20, 23 = 50 (3d100)

>>2658591
>>
Rolled 92, 92 = 184 (2d100)

>>2658591
oops
>>
>>2658599
>>2658604
dubs!
DUB!
92!
>>
Rolled 94, 24, 64 = 182 (3d100)

>>2658591
>>
>>2658604
>>2658609

Impressive.
>>
>80. The Blockade burns fiercely, a wall of flames
>92. Your archers have the aim of birds of prey
>92. The panicked and startled Guards and Lancers are easy prey

You crouch, your hands planted in the soft soil of the tree line. Behind you and beside you, the posture is imitated by nearly a hundred Crag Wolves. Urhost and Arvel, Balon and Lionel, Falhim and Torbos, Lurg and Kars. Dozens of men, waiting for their moment to spring.

Hidden by a bend in the road to your left, a V of brush, dry logs, bramble bushes and sharpened stakes blocks the road, extending into the forest for a short distance, the steep elevation of the bank barrier enough. The underside of the barrier is stuffed with kindling, dried leaves, resin-heavy pinecones, sheets of oily birch bark. All in all, its one of the most flammable things you've ever seen. Behind the barrier, crouches a waiting raider, in his hands a flint and steel, the ferrous heavy stone and shard of hard steel sure to bring a rain of sparks atop the bone dry tinder.

You start with an almost reflexive jerk of your neck as the column of guards and lancers comes into view around a bend in the path. Padded cloth jerkins underneath mail, the white crescent on blue crest of Crescent Hall on their shields, their chests and held aloft on a pair of stout standadds, the youths bearing them obviously proud of their burden. Longswords, stout axes, maces and spears are clenched in mailed and gloved fists. The officers or veterans in their column have the odd bit of plate rreinforcing their armor. Gauntlets and vambraces, greaves and chestpieces, even a studded codpiece or two.

Along with them come Lancers, the light cavalry, rangers and scouts of the Legion. Long hafted spears, their points tapered and double edged, curving sabers, thick limbed short bows and spiked hammers arm the horsemen, their mail and leather armor concealed under a simple dark blue and off-white standard draped over their shoulders, clinched snugly about their midriff with a warning belt. Their steeds snort and huff, long legged palfreys and lean muscled holdings for the most part.

At their head rides a stout man in full plate, the visor of his helm slid open to reveal the clean shaven, angular features of some lesser noble, perhaps the brother or cousin of the local lord. Across his back is the thick shaft of a double bladed battle axe, each edge gently curving out into a arc of razored steel. The destroyer he rides atop is a truly magnificent beast, its Harding polished steel, draped with cloth and mail, the beasts hooves are the size of bucklers, its scarred hide evidence of a lifetime as a warhorse.

>Cont
>>
>>2658721
>Destroyer
>wtf. DESTRIER.
>>
>>2658721
This Destier horse is Magnus size.
>>
>>2658721
The birdcalls come again, the scouts and archers along the roadway taking their position s. Arrows meet string, bolts slide into place, stones are cupped in leather loops and barbed javelin chosen. If you look closely, you can make out the furtive figures creeping along behind the marching column.

Opposite and to the right of your position crouches Dagmar with his men. The raiders specialize in this, striking from the unmatched corner to jam a dagger in the enemy's ear. An ambush against a a column of unaware men is a trivial matter for even their most junior member.

"Get ready"
You growl, gritting your teeth, you tense your legs and preparing to barrel down the steeply sloped bank towards the unaware men as the head of the column reaches the bend. A questioning shout and the confused halt that comes to the column is all the signal you need as you stand, nearly at the same moment as Dagmar.
"NOW!!!"
"NOW!!"
Your voices overlap, almost equal in volume as the waiting raider crashes the steel and stone together, sending a shower of white hot fragments into the waiting nest of kindling. Flames, greedy and voracious, roar up in moments, chasing the trails of fuel laid out for them in blazing heat and light. You pity the men closest to the blockade as even from your distance you can feel the ambient heat caressing your exposed skin. The guards stumble back, shielding their faces from the sudden inferno, their eyes dazzled by the leaping light.

Moments have passed since your cry left your lips, its echo still ringing in the air, evident even over the bugling of terrified horses, the shouting of panicking men, the angry bellows of their officers. Chasing the footfalls of your roar of command come a driving rain of arrows, stones, darts and javelins. Punching into the unprotected rear of the column like a spear into a goats belly, sending men toppling from horses, sending guards falling like limp puppets, shafts studding their bodies. Slung stones split skulls and pulp flesh, cracking bone and denying armor. Javelins bury into flesh, punching through mail and leather, their jagged heads dripping gore. Stricken horses scream and buck, lashing out with hoof and tooth at those around them, their frenzied leaping flinging riders from their back to be trampled under foot.

Your men rise as one, bellowing their rage as you leap off the embankment, your boots carving deep furrows in the soil as you lean back, sliding down the bank. Your lips pull back from your teeth as you grin in bloodlust and fury, your eyesight narrowing to a single punk rock of detail. Your gauntlets fist reaches for the hilt of...

>What weapons do you fight with? Pick 1 or 2

>Storm blade

>DarkSteel Spear

>Heavy Throwing axes

>Blessed GreatShield
>>
>>2658779

> Storm Blade
> Blessed GreatShield

No need to dual wield against infantry, and we'll be needing the shield's defense against their leader.
>>
>>2658779
>Shield & Stormblade & axes

y'all know what I like.
>>
>>2658779
Sword n' board, anyone directly in front of us will have to either retreat into the flames or advance into Storm Blade, neither is a winning proposition for them.
>>
>>2658779
>Heavy Throwing axes (dual)
I don't know, so we deal the least amount of visible damage to the clothes and armor?
>>
>>2658779
>>
>>2658779

>Storm blade

>Blessed GreatShield
>>2658806
fug
>>
>storm blade
>blessed greatshield

Your armored fingers lock firmly around the blackened leather of the Storm-Blade's hilt, the tingling energy present in the enchanted steel tickling the nerve endings in your hand. With the rasp of steel on steel, the single edged, curving blade slides from its sheath. The nearly four foot long scimitar of ancient power is like a switch in yiur hand as you shrug your shoulder, swinging the slab of silvered steel around. Your fist slots perfectly into the loops of steel and leather, locking the bulwark onto your forearm. You bend your legs as the slope becomes harshly steep, flinging yourself forward like a stone from a sling.

The last sight of an unfortunate Crescent Hall guard is your armored boot lashing out, the jagged iron cap gouging deep into his skull, cracking bone and spilling pink tissue in a grisly splash. You land heavily, your bulk and impact driving up a cloud of dust from the roadway as you slam into the middle of the column of guards, rising to your full height as they back away in fear and disorientation.
"The fuck is that??!"

"What in the lady's name?!"

"Its a bloody monster!"

Your breathe steams out of the slit in your helm as you turn slowly, regarding the lesser men backing away, weapons leveled in your direction as you bring your shield and blade together in a thunderous crash, emptying your lungs in a earth shaking roar.

>You are faced by a dozen Crescent Hall Guards. Armed with spears, axes and Shortswords, armored in mail and padded cloth, rounded shields and bucklers.

>what do?

>Attack with Storm blade

>Fight Defensively

>Sweeping Blow

>Throwing Axe

>Fight Dirty (what do)

>Fight brutally (what do)

>other
>>
>>2658854

> Attack with Storm Blade

TEAR THEM APART WITH WILD ABANDON!
>>
>>2658854
>>Fight brutally (what do)
Shield bash while swinging sword
>>
>>2658854
>>Sweeping Blow
>>
>>2658854
>Fight Brutally

Cleave the first from brains to balls, then let's see if we can't use a motherfucker to beat another motherfucker. And we should use the shield to turn somebody into a pancake - maybe flying tackle?
>>
>>2658854
>Brutal
Keep up the warcry and charge into them with the shield using it's weight like a battering ram. Crush those spearmen and then lay into the rest with Storm Blade while they're still recovering from the charge.
>>
>fight brutally
There's a dozen of them, so let's grab our shield by one end and just swing the giant slab of metal around like a second weapon with the storm blade for a moment of whirling ferocity.

Thin their numbers a bit then go back to using it as a shield and hack-and-slash like your average 8ft-barbarian-legend-in-the-making joe.
>>
>>2658904
Brutal. support.
>>
>Brutally
I want that axe!
>>
>Fight Brutally. Terrify your enemies into submission or retreat with the gruesome deaths of their friends
>Shield charge and slash about you with the Storm blade
>Roll me 2d100+20. Best of 3. Counting the shield charge as a FoS.
>>
Rolled 82, 53 + 20 = 155 (2d100 + 20)

>>2659015
>2d100+20
>>
Rolled 13, 90 + 20 = 123 (2d100 + 20)

>>2659015
>>
Rolled 74, 27 + 20 = 121 (2d100 + 20)

>>2659015

In Vall's name!
>>
Rolled 63, 100 + 20 = 183 (2d100 + 20)

>>2659015
>>
>82+20=102! Excellent success! Your charge cannot be restrained
>90+10=100! Excellent Success! Your blade carves the flesh of lesser men
>Writing
>>
>>2659036
heck
>>
"By the saints hes fuckin' huge!"

"Back up Fursk! Back up!"

"Oh Shite! They're everywhere! We're surrounded"
A cruel smile twists your lips, your breathing hard and deep as you regard the pale faced men.
"And now you're dead"
Your muscles tense, jerking you into a blurring charge, your shield swinging around in front of your body, your boots carving wads of earth like a charging horse. Bracing the immense shield with your forearm, you tuck your head down, bracing your shoulder against the interior curve as you smash into the pathetic wall of leveled spears.

Metal squeals against metal as spearheads scrape against your shield, carving gleaming lines into the engraved surface. Wooden shafts snap under the impact of your charge, shattering like flimsy matchsticks before an avalanche. Men go flying, thrown backward by the force of the collision. One unfortunate man goes down in front of you, your armored boot coming down on his skull with such force his head simply ceases to be. Roaring like a feral beast, you swivel your body, the flat face of your shield swinging outward, ringing like a gong as you smash a unlucky guard across the face. Like a eggshell before a hammer, his face simply flattens, blood and grey matter, shattered teeth and optic fluid gushes out in a spurt of vital fluid, painting the silver face of your shield crimson.
"By the goddess!"

"Fuckin' hell!"

"Kill"im!"

"Run!"

Before his limp form has even finished falling backward you have pivoted your body, stepping forward and postponing your shield arm out in a savage straight on jab. The wet, thick impact on the receiving end turns the stomachs of all those nearby as you bury the rim of your shield directly through the sternum of a spear wielding guard, his youthful face twisting in agony in the few moments he has before his brain realizes hes dead. Blood spattered your face in steaming droplets as you wrench the shield free.

"Kaen! He killed Kaen!"

"Stick a spear in him!"

"Kill'im Kill'im Kill'im!!!!"

"Im gettin' outta here!"

>Cont
>>
>>2659094
>Cont

The Storm-Blade sweeps out in a blurring arc, the crackling energy of the enchanted steel lancing out when the ancient hacks through the upraised shield of a long haired guard, blood spurting through the bone deep rent in his forearm. His eyes widen in pain before his body convulses as the searing arcs of pure energy burn into his flesh. Wrenching the blade free you smash aside the lunging jab of a spearman, burying your blade through the center of his back, the blade jutting from his upper chest as his limbs twitch, smoke curling from the burning skin around the enchanted metal. With a twist and wrench of your wrist, the corpse topples forward, greasy smoke and steam rising from the charred wound through his torso.
"No! No! No! We need to get out of here!"

"We're all gonna fuckin' die!"

Trapping a stunned and crawling lancer under your boot, a barbed arrow jutting from his shoulder, his upper thigh carved to the bone. You regard the men facing you coldly as you slowly drive the blade through the center of the Lancers throat, his skin scorching and smoldering as you nail him to the ground.
"He's right you know"
You snarl as you wrench the blade side to side, severing the mans head with the wet rip of tearing flesh.

>You are facing a group of 7 Crescent Hall guards.
>They are terrified.

>Attack with Storm blade

>Fight Defensively

>Sweeping Blow

>Throwing Axe

>Fight Dirty (what do)

>Fight brutally (what do)

>other
>>
>>2659138
>>
>>2659138
duel wield
>>
>>2659138

>Sweeping Blow
their defense is low lets sweep em up
>>
>>2659138
>Fight Brutally
Start screaming, start advancing, keep screaming like we're going to lose our fucking mind. Hack down any enemy who gets within sword range to either side while we do. Force them to either break, cower, and run into the flames or die violently against our guard.
>>
>>2659138
>Fight Brutally
Dagmar is watching, let's not get too fancy or smart. Rip and tear.
>>
What if we tell them to strip down and surrender? Free Thralls. We just tie them up and keep a handful of guys to watch them while the rest of us get ready for the big raid.
>>
>>2659169
>>2659177

Rip and tear!
>>
>Fight Brutally
>roll me 3d100+10. Bo3
>Bonus points for write ins
>>
Rolled 94, 83, 67 + 10 = 254 (3d100 + 10)

>>2659212
Same as what I described >>2659169
>>
Rolled 97 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2659212
>>
Rolled 33, 68 + 10 = 111 (2d100 + 10)

>>2659212
I keep forgetting to roll the other two dice

Let's try to not get too much blood on the clothes. If we do we needed wash out the blood. Or not? Probably not.
>>
Rolled 80, 14, 93 + 10 = 197 (3d100 + 10)

>>2659212
>>
>>2659224
The guards at the town walls will be expecting the troops to return victorious after battle so blood/damage/ tears/etc won't look out of place
>>
>>2659230
Oh.
So after we sack the main town will we head straight home or will we pick at the ruins of the three villages we destroyed?
If it's the former than can we get a little somethingsomething Magnus might have been able to swipe if you know what I mean.
>>
Don't forget the flower lads
>>
Rolled 27, 9, 4 + 10 = 50 (3d100 + 10)

>>2659212
>>
>107! Incredible success! Rip!
>93! Great success! Tear!
>103! Incredible success! Destroy
>writing, sorry for the delay, had to talk to the Gf
>>
>>2659273
Don't forget to throw it in the trash
>>
>>2659319
Lame.
>>
All around you, the once structured and ranked column of Crescent Hall guardsmen and Lancers is devolving into chaos. Arrows flit down from the trees and the bank along the sunken road, punching into backs and bellies. Those that think they have blocked a shot find themselves pieced by arrows from the rear or side. Raiders vault over the crude shieldwalls, landing bodily in the flailing column from both sides of the road. Knives and hand axes find themselves buried in backs, necks and thighs, slicing tendons and throats. Short spears punch into unprotected throats and groin, spilling blood in scarlet arcs.

Your warriors smash into the flanks of the column like a hammer in soft iron, crushing the men caught in the press against each other. Crushed so tightly against each other, those unfortunate men are sheep waiting for the slaughter, barely able to raise their weapons to defend themselves. Lancers are pulled from their steeds and hacked apart, unable to resist against the dozens of blades. cast spears drive through the mounted warriors, sending them flopping limply from the saddle.

Somewhere nearby, Urhost roars like an enraged bear, his axe buried somewhere in some unfortunate body. Fighting with his heavy, thick bladed shortswords he hacks and slashes, kicks and punches, shedding so much blood it hangs in a fine mist around him.

Lionel thrusts with his spear, the broad leaf shaped head piercing under the ribcage of a mounted lancer. Ripping the weapon free, he spins, swinging the razor sharp head around to slash across the face of a fleeing archer. Drawing a long bladed dagger in a reverse grip, he drives forward into a knot of dismounted lancers, lunging at his former countrymen with cold fury on his face.

Your attention is more focused on the men foolish enough to face you. Even after the gruesome, painful deaths of several of their compatriots, they hold, if only barely. Blood spattered their faces, weapons clutched in panicked grips, their eyes wide and glassy with fear. The only thing giving them hope is the knowledge that you are but a man, mortal and vulnerable.

You intend to change that notion.

With a single, lunging footstep, you bring the storm blade in a savage arc that ends buried in the chest of a unfortunate guard, cleaving him open from shoulder to sternum. Steppimg forward, you drive your boot outwards, sending his corpse flying backward so hard he bowls over a pair of struggling lancers.

"Die you fuck!!"
Bringing your shield you snap the charging guards spear like a twig between it and your hip. He has a moment to contemplate the error of this decision before your blade cleaved his legs off at the knee. Striding over his amputated form, your blade sings yet again, the crackling energy about the blade surging, the stink of burning flesh and ozone gathering about you like mist. Severed limbs and ruined torsos fall to the ground, blood soaking the earth beneath your boots as you deal death wth every blow.

>cont
>>
>>2659340

You strike, sending a guard falling backward, his belly split open to the spine, his innards spilling out in slick coils.

You strike, cleaving downwards and splitting a man from brain to balls, the severed halves of his body falling aside like firewood.

Burying your blade in a mans chest, you lift him high into the air before driving him into the ground, the full length of your blade nailing him to the earth.

Thinking you disarmed, a dagger wielding man leaps onto your side, stabbing wildly at your neck. His eyes bulge in shock as your armored fist locks about his neck. With as much effort as it takes one to pull a chickens leg off, you crush his throat, the brittle snap of his spine vibrating up your arm.

You draw your blade from the impaled corpse, turning to regard the few men still facing you. Their eyes cut to the trail of mutilated and broken corpses, their former companions reduced to meat cooling on the ground. They wisely drop their weapons, turning to flee into the press. Your lip curls in amusement as the men find themselves on the wrong end of several rather unpleasant weapons.

Surveying the impromptu battlefield, you can pick out several knots that could use your assistance...

>Those Lancers are trying to fight their way up the bank

>Arvel has gotten himself deep into the column, he probably needs help

>That commander and his bodyguard have to go

>Continue fighting in the thick of it

>other
>>
>>2659504
>That commander and his bodyguard have to go
Take out the biggest kid and the rest will fall like dominoes.
>>
>>2659504
>>That commander and his bodyguard have to go
a proper challenge
>>
>>2659519
Supporting
>>
>>2659504
>>That commander and his bodyguard have to go
>>
>>2659504
>That commander and his bodyguard have to go
Send some men arvels way to give him a hand.
>>
>>2659504
Cut off the head, so and and so forth, kill the Commander and shatter their morale.
>>
>>2659504
>Those Lancers are trying to fight their way up the bank
Ant let them ran back and lwt the town know whats happening
>>
>>2659504
>That commander and his bodyguard have to go
>>
>>2659504
>Arvel has gotten himself deep into the column, he probably needs help

Bros before Command-hos. we leave him there, he might die or get hurt bad.
>>
>>2659995
This
>>
>>2659504
>Arvel & Commander
Let's smash through the knot around Arvel on our way to the Commander, if possible. We don't need to stop and help to be an assist, and others will follow in our wake.
>>
>Smash through the men around Arvel on the way to the Commander
>Roll me 2d100 pls. Bo3!
>>
>>2660084
>>
Rolled 82, 46 = 128 (2d100)

>>2660099
>>
Rolled 76, 40 = 116 (2d100)

>>2660084
>>
File: 1529125689248.png (8 KB, 225x225)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
Rolled 64, 43 = 107 (2d100)

>>2660084
>>
Rolled 70, 3 = 73 (2d100)

>>2660084
Praise the lord
>>
Rolled 91, 27 = 118 (2d100)

>>2660084
>>
>82! Great success! Arvel doesn't die this day
>46! Slight failure! The Commander is a formidable foe

"To me! To me! To the Lords Banner! To me!"
Bellows the Commander, turning his steed in a circle, hhis bodyguard of knights keeping close by, their swords and maces dealing death with every blow. The blades of his double edged axe are painted crimson, smeared with brain and clotted blood. Swinging the axe downward, he cleaves open the skull of a howling raider, sending the man toppling, split from brow to throat. Hefting the banner over his head, he fills his lungs, his ebon steed turning at the signal of his knees, lashing out with hoof and tooth.
"Men of Crescent Hall! Men of Lord Thyos! To me! To me!"

Your vision shudders, voices whispering in your ears, in your mind, an otherworldly chill creeping across your body despite the heat of the flames, despite your exertions. The sensation of a greater presence just behind your field of view makes the hair on your neck rise as a single thunderous voice echoes through your mind.
>"Kill him"

Men, horses, Servants of the Moon Lords, Dagmars men, your own, all are going aside in your pounding rush through the press. You don't even bother to swing your weapons, simply shouldering them aside, smashing a path of destruction through the melee. Bone shatters, flesh tears, horses scream in confused pain and men shout in alarm as their companions fly overhead like thistledown. This lordling thinks he can win free?

He'll die here with his men.

Arvel shouts and roars, slashing with hatchet, punching with iron rimmed buckler. The hulking raider snarls like a beast as he buries his hatchet in the skull of a lancer, yanking the mans corpse close before stooping, picking it up bodily to fling at the wall of spears surrounding him. Easily over a dozen lancers and guards, spears levelled at his belly, swords wet with blood, eyes watching his every move. He bares his teeth, cracked and chipped from a lifetime of brawls, the battlefury in his heart singing. Is this how he dies? Soaked in blood not his own? In battle, surrounded by fellow warriors and kinsmen? He laughs, an ugly broken thing, much like himself and hefts his weapon once more, preparing to leap into the wall of spears
"Come on then ya cunts! Come on! Who's comin' with me!"

Before Arvel can die with glory, however, he needs permission from you. And you are not giving it today. The only warning the Spearmen have before you barrel through them like a runaway wagon is the shaking earth under their feet and the rapidly approaching screams of pain. Your shield swings out in a bone-crushing slam that sends a trio of men flying, limbs limp and skulls crushed in their helms. Those that aren't battered aside are trampled under your boots, your weight crushing bone into fragments as you pass by like a winter storm, not even noticing the glorious death you just interrupted.

>cont
>>
>>2660262
Arvel turns to watch you continue your path of destruction, sharing a incredulous look with a lancer before coming to his senses and crushing the mans jaw with his buckler, driving shards of shattered bone into his throat. He spits onto the twitching corpse and shakes his head in amazement, looking after you.
"Bloody madman"

The Knights of Crescent Hall, little more than armored lancers but knights in name, circle their commander, their blades and maxes, spears and axes wet with blood as they fight to defend their leader from the sudden onslaught of mountain savages. One of them goes down in a tangle of limbs and flailing hooves as his steed takes a spear through the neck, spurting its life in arterial jets. They stab and slash, hack and chop, wheel and charge, maintaining their group around their leader as he attempts to rally his men. Pulling a horn from his belt, he blows into it, the long brassy note ringing over tue battlefield, cutting through the chaos of the battlefield like a dagger.
"To me, Men of The Valley! To me!"

Sir Hedrian wheels to lift his sword, adding his voice to his commander when a roar of inhuman rage catches his attention. He turns his head just in time to fully take in the colossus bearing down on him before the brute simply shoulder checks his horse, sending horse and rider flying. Earth and sky trade places several times for brave sir Hedrian, the knights unexpected flight ending with a bone jarring impact with the unforgiving earth, driving all breathe from his lungs. Luckily for his lungs, they are already emptied when the beasts ironshod boot crushes down onto his chest, the unrelenting pressure crushing his chest flat. The last sight of the hopeful young knight is that of his commander, backed by flame and ruin, facing down a nightmare from myth and legend, armed with ancient rune-steel and clad in hatred. His vision fades to nothing as his lips move in worldless gasping prayer to the merciful mother of the Moon.

You step into the ring of knights, breathing heavily, rolling your shoulder and swiveling your head to keep all your foes in view. The Knightly bodyguard is diminished it seems, several of their order lying still on the earth, including the one you had just stomped into oblivion. The Knights circle warily, their weapons leveled at you as their commander urges his mount forward slowly, the destrier whinnying in challenge as you stand defiant.

"Are you the leader of these savages? Come to challenge me? Come to claim my head for some heretical spirits? Eh? What say you barbarian!"
The Commander barks out, his axe and standard held in each hand, expertly controlling the beast.

"Perhaps he's here to surrender my Lord! He's come alone!"
Laughs one of the knights, a youthful man, garbed in half plate and mail, a stout war pick in his hand. You don't even deign to give him a look as you fix your gaze on the Commander, clenching your grip on your shield and blade.

>What do?
>>
>>2660265
>Point Stormblade at wisecracking knight and say "You're next," then point at Commander and say "But you're first." Then Attack.
>>
>>2660265
Yes that's good. Laugh you manlet. Laugh in merriment as I bath in the blood of your brothers. Laugh with me as I send your eternal souls to the devourer. Because I certainly will.
I see what the commander is doing, rallying all his men to to the meat grinder. He's too much of a limp dick man to defend his men from these 'savages'.

Kill the closest Lancer for added effect.
>>
>>2660265
>flick a dagger into the youth's throat without looking too much.
"I've come here to rape your goddess; she's not here so I'll settle for planting that banner up your ass. Cunt." spit.
>>
>>2660279
>>2660277
...Sure. I like this this.
>>
>>2660265
Ask for the names of their wives and sister. We'll be sure to fuck them senseless after this.
>>
>>2660284
>>2660279
I think I'm actually going to write something for this.
>Since Magnus was not able to tri wield weapons, he places his Ice Spearblade head first into the ground. It would make a nice treat to pick up later in the fight.
>Magnus spits on the ground, as close to the horse as he can get
"I've been looking for your Goddess. When I was raping your priests at our crypts. She was not there."
>Magus cracks a knuckle
>"When I was listening to the screams of your mayors, she was not there. When I took this spear and lodged it into her most faithful, she was not here. When my hot fiery balls enter the thralls that I've taken from this land, she was not here. When I gutted her priest and adorned the statue of her, she was not here."
>Magus takes his shield and stormblade
"And when I look at the fat, old, and deprecated Commander I'm about to rip his throat out. She still isn't here,"
>>
Add this >>2660297 to mine >>2660277, hot damn.
>>
>>2660297
I'm fine with this but I want to keep the frost spear out of the ground.
>>
>>2660297

I'll back this.
>>
>>2660303
Do you want the commanders Axe?
>>
Combining these
>>2660297
>>2660284
>>
>>2660337
Obviously.
>>
>>2660361
What if we instead give it to Avrel or Urhost? We have plenty of weapon.
>>
>>2660337

As a trophy or trade fodder, sure.

>>2660372

Or that, too.
>>
>gimme a minute, gotta get some food im about to die
>>
>>2660372
Fine with me, we've got plenty of weapons and it's always good warlord policy to give worthy weapons to worthy comrades.
>>
>>2660372
A good leader should give treasures to his loyal subordinates.

Of course, we could also stockpile goods to shower on the leaders of other tribes in the interest of bringing them to the banner of the crag wolves. On that note, a gryphon or some other beast would be good for that tribe that used to be famed for their beasts.
>>
>>2660406
The leaders of other tribes can be showered in the riches of those leaders above them after they are dead.
>>
>>2660413
Dueling leaders/champions is viable too of course. Some of those men could be more valuable fighting for us though.
>>
While we're waiting, anyone else like to chime in on making plans for after the raid?

I'm of the opinion that we should work on subjugating the tribes, perhaps some monster or treasure hunting would be a good first move though.

Of course, with the lack of military forces in the area currently we may have a good window for another big raid.
>>
>>2660428

I'm thinking we need to hit the various crypts and cairns that haven't been looted yet. Unearthing their ancient treasures and putting their long-slumbering artifacts to use against the moonies is sure to earn Vall's favor.
>>
>>2660428
I think sending out a small team of unblooded youths to do the dirty work of the tribe would be a good start. those kids need experience.
>>
>>2660438
Can't argue against hitting a few, maybe capturing or killing a few great beasts too. Personally i'm kind of interested in getting some trolls, i recall reading that one tribe uses them i think.

>>2660441
Hm might could be an argument made for bringing a few promising youths along with us, an even trade for bringing that fine booze back if we can find some, first pick of the litter if you will, could we call that a compromise?
>>
>>2660451
There was a tribe actually. The one that specialized in the timing of beasts.
I'm not feeling too hot on the idea of taking along some pups with us. Between baby sitting and making sure no moonie knight kills them I think it would be for the best to keep them at home.
>>
>>2660456
I thought there was one that currently used trolls as well? I'll dig for it when i get back to my computer i suppose.

It would certainly be very dangerous for them, but i think it should be noted that they are being raised in training, young and fresh sure, but not completely useless. Still, having our pick whether we bring them along or not would be fair i think.
>>
Also, for theme alone we might could look into capturing some dire wolves for the tribe to use, or even plain old wolves for that matter
>>
>>2660478
It would have to be dire wolves. Regular wolves are too small to support the weight of an armored man for too long.
>>
>>2660491
Well i didnt mean riding regular wolves, as "war dogs" if you will.

For that matter I'm concerned about our griffin supporting our weight, poor guy might get tired
>>
As cool as stormblade and the swordspear are, I think it'd be cooler if we started working on our own legendary weapon, maybe a custom made fuckhuge axe-hammer, like I think some anon mentioned making a few threads back, and consult the old man on slowly inscribing it with runes as we try to accomplish legendary deeds with it to please the spirits.

We're Magnus. Why piggyback on other legends when we can create our own.
>>
>>2660509
Personally I'm a sucker for sword and board, but i think having our own blade made would be a sweet deal. Though, honoring ancestors by using their weapons is a worthy thing too i think.
>>
>>2660509

We've only begun our legend, and aside from being stronger than ten men, coming back from the dead, and single-handedly crashing the gates of Castle Volsung, we've done nothing worthy of eternal glory. Once we've taken command of the Crag Wolves, brought a few tribes under our banner, slain a few great beasts, and burned a dozen of the moon-goddesses' temples, THEN, the spirits may see fit to bestow their blessing upon our Hammer, but until then, we'll make do with what we have.
>>
>>2660517
I didn't word my post very well. I don't think we should completely stop using stormblade or our shield, I just think we should get a custom, signature weapon to upgrade with ourselves.
We should definitely still use sword 'n board when we need that defense and armor penetration, but i miss hammertime.
>>
>>2660509
I made the comment on the hammer axe. In warhammer fantasy the high priest of ulric has a weapon called Blitzbeil the Hammer-Axe of Skoll with a hammer head on one side and a greataxe head on the other. It also produces a lightning effect since its enchanted.

I would also like for us to create our own unique equipment. A fiery sword that melts people, armor, and inferior weapons would be boss.
>>
>>2660527
Honestly, I'm just not a hammer kind of guy, a mace or morningstar is something i think is sadly underrepresented though. Gotta have the board tho man, a great big sheet of metal is a fine thing to smack the shit out of people with.
>>
>>2660527

I agree.

>>2660533

Indeed, but I lean more towards a fuckheug warhammer myself, because it relies on our titanic strength to use it effectively, and ties in with the 'Magnus the Mighty' mythos we've started to build for ourselves. That, and, a Ultra-size warhammer is great for collaterally ruinous Feats of Strength.
>>
>>2660533
>>2660536
>>2660545
Honestly, I just want better armor. Our left shoulder is exposed, our chest armor is just leather and mail,and both of our thighs are exposed. And our neck is barely covered.
>>
>>2660560
I would love for some chaosplate with skulls and shit on it.
>>
>>2660560

Agreed, after this raid, armor should be our top priority.
>>
>>2660560
Full plate would be nice, very expensive for our size i should think though
>>
>>2660545
If you really want to piss off everyone, use the spear as a pole for the hammer head. You still have a pig sticker on the end from the original spear head.
>>
>>2660560
isn't the exposed are the shield arm?

>>2660567
wouldn't that make it slightly unweildly?
>>
>>2660569
Yeah, but we dual wield all the time.
>>
>>2660572
That's a little different from having a two headed weapon
>>
>>2660575
Still...uh...is an exposed shoulder.
>>
>>2660577
I'm not sure what you mean by that.
>>
>>2660581
There is no armor over our left shoulder to the bicep, and a little past the elbow. so we roll low on defense, and QM rolls a 100 on attack...we might be saying bu-bye to an arm if we don't get that covered.
>>
>>2660581

Even if we're dual wielding and relatively unkillable against conscripts at melee range, we still have an exposed shoulder that would make an appetizing target for an archer.
>>
>>2660585
>>2660586
I thought we were talking about the idea of adding a warhammer head to the other end of the spear
why are we talking bout armor all of a sudden?
>>
>>2660591
Because if we had to choice of getting more weapons or more armor. I say we choose armor. I actually think we should sell our warhammer and some of our trophies for armor.
>>
>>2660591
I'm against that idea myself, sword n board 4 lyfe
>>
>>2660596
We do have some nice weapons already, and extra armor can't hurt.

>>2660597
what about chains and hooks?
>>
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>>2660596

> sell our warhammer

Blasphemy!
>>
>>2660612
A weapon that we leave warming our bench?
>>
>>2660615

And our only momento of our past life as a mercenary? Never! I'm onboard with selling any of our trophies, but not the warhammer that shattered the gates of Castle Volsung, anything but that.
>>
>>2660615
We just need to upgrade it is all.

We should keep the storm blade and spear as dual wield and sword and board weapons, but upgrade our hammer to be an ultra weapon that we bring out to do really heavy hitting when the situation demands it (or when it would be really cool to do so).
>>
>>2660596
I think we should bestow things on our subordinates and peers instead, rewarding followers and granting wealth to other war leaders will be beneficial in that it will show people that those who follow us will gain riches and make friends of individuals of power who dont follow us. Yet.

One thing though, i think the sword and dagger should be reserved for the boy.
>>
>>2660622
I'm also for keeping the Warhammer, possibly even keeping it and eventually finding someone who can enchant it with some magic ability.
>>
>>2660622
Actually. It's not that hammer, apparently, our original war hammer is lost within that castle we were attacking.
>>
>>2660631
How far is the Castle from here?
>>
>>2660634
No idea.
>>
Since people are discussing what they want to do after the raid. We do have a discord if you fags wanna faggot there between threads

There's one thing I agree with the moralfag on. We need some friends. We should hunt a little, build our tribe up, and we should see if any other tribes are interested in budding up.
>>
Your mouth twists behind your helm, your eyes burning into those of the commander. Plunging your storm blade into the earth you draw the DarkSteel spear, frost clinging to the enchanted metal. With a grunt of effort, you drive it more than two thirds of its length into the ground. Taking your storm blade back into your hand, you rise to your full height, your voice booming out from within your helm.
"I've been looking for your Goddess, a nice silvery bitch for my bed. When I was killing your priests at our crypts. She was not there for them."

Adjusting your grip on the hilt of your sword you clench your fist, the pop of tendon and knuckles audible through the metal.
"When I was burning your villages, slaughtering your peoole and they begged for aid, she was not there to save them from me. When I took this spear and this sword and spilled the blood of her most faithful, she was not here."
Cries of outrage and curses, uttered in fury, damning your name and bloodline ring out but you forge on, slamming the rim of your shield into the ground.
"When I first mount the thralls that I've taken from this land, filling them with the seed of a real warrior and they scream for deliverance? she does not answer their pleas."
You step forward, leveling your blood stained blade at the Commander, the lordlings face drawn tight with righteous fury
"When I gutted her priest and adorned Her idol with his corpse... she was not here to strike me down."
You hawk up a wad of gummy saliva and phlegm, spitting it to spatter against the lordlings armor.
"I came to fuck your goddess... But ill settle for ramming that standard up your ass you preening cunt"

With cries of rage and fury, the knights spur their mounts on, the horses huffing and snorting as spurs carve into their sides. Spears aim for your heart and back, swords draw back for the killing strike, maces and picks ready to crack your skull. The commander levels his standard at you, his axe raised high as his steed rears.
"Kill this heretic! In the Name of the Lady!"

>Magnus has engaged 5 Crescent Hall Knights

>Fight Aggressively (what do)

>Fight Defensively (what do)

>Fight Dirty (what do)

>Other (write in)
>>
>>2660663
>Fight Defensively (what do)
Pull out the spear and dispatch their mounts when they charge.
>>
>>2660663
>Fight Aggressively (what do)
Start hackin n' wackin with the storm sword and shield punching.
>>
>>2660663
>>Fight Defensively (what do)
Spear, shield out. kill their horses under them. Finish off who doesn't land on their feet.
>>
>>2660663
>>Fight Defensively (what do)
>>
>>2660670
This
>>
>>2660663
>Fight Defensively (what do)
Take out the mounts those big clumsy horses are an easy target. Hack off a leg or open their sides and prepare for the knights to take a tumble.

Really glad other anons also want to dehorse the knights.
>>
>>2660670

This. We may make Andre the Giant look like a runt, but our prodigal size means nothing if we're being ridden down by half a dozen armored cavalry.
>>
>>2660670
What he said.
>>
>>2660663
>Fight Defensively (what do)
>>
>>2660670
Supporting
>>
>Fight Defensively. Battle Spear vs horsemen
>Roll me 3d100+10. Bo3
>>
Rolled 23, 82, 57 + 10 = 172 (3d100 + 10)

>>2660915

WE SHALL SHATTER THE MOON WITH OUR HAMMER!
>>
Rolled 82, 2, 76 + 10 = 170 (3d100 + 10)

>>2660915
>>
Rolled 20, 50, 73 + 10 = 153 (3d100 + 10)

>>2660915
>>
Rolled 40, 46, 70 = 156 (3d100)

>>2660915
>>
Rolled 3, 45, 69 = 117 (3d100)

>>2660915
>>
Rolled 34, 72, 51 + 10 = 167 (3d100 + 10)

>>2660915
>>
>92! Excellent Success!
>92! Excellent success!
>86! Great success!

Hooves thunder on the packed earth of the roadway as the knights urge their steeds into a gallop, bearing down on you with killing fury in their hearts and promises of your death on their lips. They are brave men, having fought beside their liege for years, in dozens of engagements against roving tribal war parties and petty bandits, each of them a son of some minor Knightly house.

They are wheat before a scythe.

You reverse your grip on the storm blade, sinking the curving blade into the ground in one motion, pivoting your body to grip the hilt of the DarkSteel spear. With a smooth pull, the weapon draws from the earth as easily as it would from its sheathe, the soil around the enchanted steel sparkling with frost. You pivot your body, adjusting your stance and bringing your shield across your body, the engraved slab angled to turn the blows driving your way. You fill your lungs, bellowing out your challenge to the lesser knights.
"Come and die you whoresons!"

Metal shrieks on metal as a lance carves across the S ilvered steel, the blow skating along the metal as you tilt your shield, rolling with the blow and bringing your arm out in a punching thrust that buries nearly four feet of enchanted steel through the belly of the knights steed. Blood and viscera spill out as you twist the blade, ripping it free and shedding crystallized droplets of blood from the blade. With a agonized shriek, the horse goes berserk, flailing and kicking wildly as its life drains out of it.

Not wasting a movement, you sidestep, bringing your shield out in a smashing blow that knocks back the head of a engraved mace, your spear coming across in looping chop that hacks off one of the geldings forelegs, the sudden and fatal impact breaking its neck mercifully.

"Heretic bastard!"
Shouts a voice from your right, the drumming of hooves and wild shout being all the warning you have before the axe descends. Reflexes honed by a lifetime of conflict save you as your shield swings out, crashing against the head of the horse, sending it rearing back, overbalancing and flailing into a tumbling fall. The stillness and lumpiness of the riders body as the horse shakily regains its feet is all the evidence you need to know he has been dealt with.

>the Commander is urging his Men on
>2 Knights are dismounted and stunned
>2 Knights are still mounted

>Fight aggressively (what do)

>Fight Defensively (what do)

>Fight Dirty (what do)

>Feat of Strength (what do)

>other
>>
>>2661070
>Fight Dirty (what do)
>Feat of Strength (what do)
Pick up the dismounted and stunned men and throw them at the remaining riders. If needed us them as meat shields against oncoming attacks, or even throw the bodies at the horses to knock then over.
knocked over horse = a crushed or crippled rider.
>>
>>2661070
Fight aggressively (what do)
Thow spear at a horse then pick up the thown lancer and thow him at mounter lancer captn usa shield thow
>>
>>2661070
>>Fight Defensively (what do)
Maintain our defense. if we break our position, we're gonna be gutted by lances. Whatever attacks we can make we should make against the stunned men.
>>
>>2661090
>>2661098
Actually, the horses are kind of defending us right now. They're gonna stop the other men from running right at us.
>>
>>2661109
really? where did it say that?
>>
>>2661119
I mean, it's just logical. if people are lancing us. We're either...safe from the lancers by people blocking the lances or...we're safe from people on the ground cause there's gonna be horses trampling around us.
>>
>>2661090
This seems like the most fun option, supportan.
>>
>>2661090
Support!
>>
>>2661090
Supporting
>>
>>2661090
spurting.'
>>
>Feat of Strength:
>Throw a bitch edition
>Use Stunned and dismounted Lancers to stun and dismount the others

>Roll me 2d100+20! Bo3!
>>
Rolled 93, 14 = 107 (2d100)

>>2661788
>>
Rolled 39, 76 + 20 = 135 (2d100 + 20)

>>2661788
>>
Rolled 20, 40 + 20 = 80 (2d100 + 20)

>>2661788
>>
113 and 96. Not bad.
>>
>113! Incredible success!
>93! Excellent success!

The remaining pair of mounted knights wheel their steeds cautiously, their gaze fixed on you as you stand like a pillar of defiance against them. Their commander levels his axe at you, his voice barking out his order, his verdict against your life.
"Alten, Bedyr, Kill him! Have no fear in the face of your foes!"

The Knights share a look before responding, one tucking a lance against body, the other readying a long bladed sabre.
"Aye my lord!"
"At once sire!"

Spurring their mounts on with vicious kicks of their heels, the knights lunge into motion, clenching their legs tight to the sides of their steeds as the animals thunder forward. If you remained in your position, you would surely be slashed open or run through by edged steel, your body trampled under pounding hooves.

That is why you don't stand to receive the blow.

Your shield and spear drop to the earth as you release your grip, striding over quickly to the groaning and weakly flailing knight nearest you. His left leg is twisted, wet bone punching through the skin as he looks up at you, his eyes unfocused, blood sheeting from a gash on his brow. He weakly tries to struggle as you grip him by the arm and leg, his howl of pain falling on deaf ears as you turn and fling him like a stone with one motion. Like a child's toy, like a stone from a sling, the Knight flies through the air, arms and unbroken leg flailing as he spins toward his target. Both men have a single moment to shout in shock before the impact, the combined velocity of thrown man and charging knight ending in a bone smashing collision. The mounted knight flies backward as if yanked by a wire, his neck lolling a strange angle while his arms and legs limply extend outwards, the broken form of his fellow pressed against a slightly deformed chest.

The two freshly made corpses have yet to hit the ground before you are on the move, striding over to the second of the stunned Knights,, the young man spitting blood from broken teeth as he slowly picks himself up from the ground. He collapses ti his chest with a surprised and pained "Oof!" As you grip his feet in both hands, your grip easily encompassing his greaved calves. Turning and swinging, you smile darkly behind your helm as both mounted Knight and soon-to-be bludgeon become aware of their fate. The mounted Knight attempts to lean out of the way, to turn away from his charge, to duck and to shield his face all in the same moment. All the man being swung through the air like a fleshy, screaming hammer can do is offer prayer to the lady in between terrified screams.

*wham*

>Cont
>>
>>2662045
Your impromptu hammer ceases his screaming with a wet, solid impact that sees his fellow knight thrown from the saddle with such force that the crunch of shattering spine is audible even over the din of battle. Dissatisfied with how the stricken man continues to breathe, you grip the fresh corpse by both legs, swinging it over and over again onto the crippled knight, bludgeoning him so thoroughly that soon both he and your makeshift club are little more that scraps of flesh and pulped bone encased in dented armor.

"Well then"
You spit onto the earth, clearing bloody saliva from your mouth and dropping the grisly bludgeon into a wet and squishy heap, turning to face the mounted commander, the lordlings eyes blazing with righteous fury as he plants his standard in the earth, his mouth set in a grim line. You blink blood from your eyes and laugh cruelly, nudging the body of a knight with your boot
"Don't suppose you'll make it easy for me and just bend over and take it eh pretty boy?"

The Commander, some pompous and uptight cousin of the local lord you bet, draws himself up, his voice ringing out in contempt and more than a little sorrow
"They were good, hhonest men. Ive fought with them a dozen times over, each and every one. They had homes, wives, children! They-"

"And now they're fucking dead you jabbering little prick. Now are you gonna come to me or am I gonna have to come to you? Either way this won't be pretty"
You snarl, working your armored fist, your fingers itching to lock about his skull.

"Have at you Heretic!"
He shouts, spurring his horse forward, the massive beast snorting challenge to you, nostrils flared, ears peeled back, mouth dripping foam. Hooves the size of bucklers carve divots from the roadway as the Lesser lord charges you full speed, his battle axe drawn back for the killing stroke.

All around you the combat slows, men turning to watch the battle between two true warriors, two experts in the matter of spilling blood. One, raised to lead and command, to fight the foes of his lords and uphold the will of the Lady. The other, the unwanted son of peasants, grown huge and strong on a lifetime of war.

Only one of them will walk away from this.

>cont
>>
>>2662047
Magnus
200Hp
65 armor
(Currently unarmed)
Skills
Iron Fist Counter. When dual wielding and defending, your highest success roll will result in a counter. Roll 1dd
Ruinous slash-Great weapon skill. A single, powerful attack that removes 1/4 of your enemies armor and does +1dd damage.
Whirlwind-Great weapon skill-Attack all foes around you with a single attack. Leaves you open to counterattack. +1d100 for every foe you face. 2DD. Enemies that pass dodge will Roll to counter.

has engaged

Sir Florian Thylos, Guard Captain of Crescent Hall, Knight of the Crescent.
175HP
75 armor
(Great Weapon:Battle axe- Winters Fury 3A 3D 2DD)
Heroic mount-DarkSky. Heroic Warhorse
250/250Hp
Skills-
Cleaving Blow- A single powerful attack that can carve open armor and sever limbs. Reduces armor value and deals +1DD
Disarm-Hook your opponents weapon and yank it from their grasp. Roll a strength check, if you succeed the enemy is disarmed.
Trample-While mounted, can ride down an enemy that fails to dodge. 2DD damage with chance to stun.
Rally-Blow into a warhorn and gather fellow soldiers to his aid. When reduced to low HP, 1d4 enemies will join the duel.

>What weapon/s do you use as your main for this duel? Select up to two

>Storm Blade-Greatsword, Enchanted. 3A 2D 2DD. 3DD if used as two handed

>DarkSteel battle spear- Battle Spear, Enchanted. 3A 3D 2DD. 3DD if used as two handed

>Blessed Great shield (3D. +15 armor)

>Heavy Throwing Axes (1A 2DD)

>Your fists (4A, 2D, 2DD+20)
>>
>>2662087
>>Storm Blade-Greatsword, Enchanted. 3A 2D 2DD. 3DD if used as two handed
Storm Blade
Blessed Great Shield.
>>
>>2662087
>throw axes like a shitfuck
>grab sword and board. fight like a scumbag.
>>
>>2662087
>Your fists (4A, 2D, 2DD+20)
Tackle the fucker off his mount and kill him with his own axe
>>
>>2662175
this is good too. Maybe throw him off guard with the axes then tackle. proceed to murder fuck.
>>
>>2662087
Is the Iron Fist Counter automatic and can it be used with bare fists?
>>
>>2662185
Yes
>>
>>2662183
Dual wield thrown axes
Dual wield fists

Dual wielding is love, dual wielding is life.
>>
>>2662183
>>2662185
I'm hoping we can dirty fight him off the horse. I want the horse.
>>
>>2662197
>Heroic mount-DarkSky. Heroic Warhorse
250/250HP
>Trample-While mounted, can ride down an enemy that fails to dodge. 2DD damage with chance to stun.
This is a good, honest, stom'p you to death horse that'll fuck your mare then your stallion'. Please do not kill.

Look at that health. I bet he's stomped and kicked a few bears and mythical beasts in his time.

Can we rename him Svaðilfari?
>>
>>2662087
>>DarkSteel battle spear- Battle Spear, Enchanted. 3A 3D 2DD. 3DD if used as two handed

>Blessed Great shield (3D. +15 armor)
>>
>>2662208
I'd rename the horse Kokuoh ( after Raoh's giant ass killer horse that tramples super powered martial artists to death) but that reference would make no sense in this setting and be too weeby for this quest.
>>
>>2662087
>Spear & Shield
I'm inclined to bet that Dark Sky won't be our friend if we kill his master, but it's not a bad idea to try to capture him.
>>
>>2662087

> Darksteel BattlespearBattle Spear, Enchanted. 3A 3D 2DD. 3DD if used as two handed
>Blessed Great shield (3D. +15 armor)
>>
>DarkSteel Spear equipped
>Blessed Great shield equipped

"Die Heretic! Barbarian filth!"
Shouts Sir Thylos,d charging his ebon warhorse towards you, sweeping his axe around in a looping chop, seeking to bury the curved blade in your chest. His visor has come down, concealing his face behind a sheet of angled steel, only his eyes visible, burning with rage as he bears down on you.

Dropping your shoulder and kicking out, you roll out of the way of the blow, the razors steel hissing through the air over your neck as he desperately backhand a swing in an attempt to hit you. Impacting with your shoulder against the hard packed earth, you shift your weight, rolling upright, slamming your fist through the loops of your shield, gripping the ironbound shaft of the DarkSteel spear, settling into a defensive stance, the blade angled over the bulwark of your shield. Your watching men cheer and whoop, smashing weapons to shields. Those of the column of guards extol their Commander, howling for your death as the Lordling brings his steed around again, readying his axe for another charge.

>Attack (What do?)

>Defend (what do)

>Throw An axe

>Ruinous Blow

>Whirlwind

>Feat of Strength (what do)

>Fight Dirty (what do)

>other (write in)
>>
>>2662744
>>Feat of Strength (what do)
>>Fight Dirty (what do)
Knock this mother fucker off the horse.
>>
>>2662744
Switch to a hatchet. Next time he comes back with that axe, use to hatchet to catch his battleaxe and hopefully pull hin of the weapon down.

Do not hurt the horse.
>>
>>2662766
Hatchet catch or this
>>
>>2662744
>Feat of Strength (what do)
>Fight Dirty (what do)
Knock the knight off of his steed. Do it by leaping through the air, shield first and land an aerial shoulder check on the knight.

>Ebon horse
*sigh* Kokuoh is even more applicable since it means black king in moonspeak. Oh well no big loss the guy who suggested Svaðilfari hit the nail on the head with a name that matches both the horse and the setting.
>>
Rolled 10 (1d100)

>Fight Dirty
>Hatchet Catch Axe and attempt to dehorse him
>Roll me a flat 1d100. Bo3. Beat my resist roll
>>
Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>2662812
>10
Dicelets, when will they learn?
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>2662812
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>2662812
Get fucked.
>>
>>2662812
>>
>98>10! He's well and truly dismounted.

Mounted men are among your least favorite to fight. They have an advantage in height, weight and speed and the horse itself is an entire other entity to deal with. Its much easier to unseat a man and deal with him on equal footing. With that plan in mind, you quickly reverse your grip on the DarkSteel spear, plunging it into the ground and yanking one of the heavy bladed hatchets from your belt. The stout wooden handle is wrapped in rawhide for a sure grip, the blade honed to a knives keen edge, the bulk of the head giving a comforting weight on your wrist.

"For the Lady and for Lord Thylos!"
Shouts the Sir Thylos, bearing down on you, drawing his axe back yet again. You grit your teeth, holding back the urge to insult the man further as you wait for your moment. Back sweeps the double bladed axe, its edges glittering in the light of the burning blockade. Down comes the axe, the crescents of steel coming down with enough force to hack off a limb. The Knightly commander snarls in exertion as the brutal blow comes down on your head.

"Gotcha"
You growl, swinging the hooked beak of the throwing hatchet into under tue beard of his axe, catching against the decorated shaft, biting deep into the ironbound wood. Wrenching downward with all the strength of your shoulder and back, the Knights snarl of rage turns into a surprised shout as he is ripped from the saddle, his death grip on the axe dragging from his perch and into a bone-jarring impact the unforgiving ground. Only a lucky roll to the side saves the man from the hammer blow of your boot from crashing against his skull.

"Fi-filthy bastard"
Sir Thylos wheezes, struggling to his feet, swinging his axe wildly in an attempt to ward you off. Bloody mud cakes the rear back of his armor, staining his indigo cloak with filth. He works his grip, the fingers of his right hand seeming to pain him as he draws in a sharp hiss, blinking rapidly behind the eye slit of his helm. His warhorse snorts anxiously, slamming a hoof against the ground unhappily as you circle the dismounted knight, your spear and shield held in an easy grip.

"Now... Lets do this correctly"
Your voice rings out from inside your blackened, angular helm, eyes ringed red and bloodshot from smoke and constant bloodshed. Sir Thylos brings his axe up in a two handed grip, held diagonally across his body as he turns to face you, eyes narrowed and shoulders hunched.

>attack (what do)

>defend (what do)

>special attack

>throwing axe

>FoS

>Fight Dirty

>other
>>
>>2662855

> Fight Dirty

Throw sand in his visor, trip him while he's distracted, then stomp on his groin.
>>
>>2662855
>Other
Circle around to his right, keeping us on the side of that injured hand. Bait him into an attack, catch the haft of his axe with the spear and then sweep the haft down to strike his already injured hand.
>>
>>2662855
>>defend (what do)
fuck it. This guy is alone and vulnerable. I say we work him tired. And we either slit his throat or we make a thrall out of him!
>>
>>2662871
We need the intelligence from this man.
>>
>>2662855
>>2662864
Highly supported. As there is likely not sand, we just kick a clod of nasty mud at the visor AND throw mud so when he blocks, he gets it, hopefully regardless.
>>
>>2662873
I've received word that this man does have knowledge of the area we're about to hit.
>>
File: Shi-shaaa!.jpg (12 KB, 480x360)
12 KB
12 KB JPG
>>2662855
>Fight Dirty
Throw dirt/sand at his visor then beat his ass
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>Fight Dirty
>Pocket Sand/Mud Edition
>Roll me a flat 1d100. Bo3. Beat his resist roll
>>
>>2662855
>attack (what do)
Just keep walking to him and jabing with the spear till he gose for a big hit then ise the sheild to get hooked on the axe then tackle him to the ground
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>2662943
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>2662943
The moon is a dirty slut bitch whos going to take it up the ass from us
>>
Rolled 77 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2662943
saving it.
>>
>>2662960
Not realy as we just had to beat the qm roll wich we alredy had
>>
>>2662943
>>2662960

You know, sometimes I get the impression that even if Magnus was an ordinary size, he'd still be an infamous warlord.
>>
>>2662960
dubs my nigga
>>
Rolled 97, 17, 90 - 30 = 174 (3d100 - 30)

>77>3. Sir Thylos is blinded with mud
>Sir Thylos takes -30 to his next Hit roll

You quickly stoop, dragging your fingers through the slimy, thick mud created by the mixture of blood and soil. TTThe sticky mixture clings to your gauntlet as you rise, your arm flicking out in a straight throw that spatters against the eye slit of the Lordlings helm. The gleaming polished steel, decorated with engravings and silver filligree is quickly hidden behind a layer of clinging filth.

The effect is immediate, Sir Thylos flinching back, clawing at his visor and shaking his head, cursing and shouting as he blindly slashes with his axe. His men curse and groan collectively as yours laugh, weapons crashing against shield in a raucous applause.

"Dirty Heretic! Filthy son of a whore! Where are you?! Have you no honor!?".shouts brave Sir Thylos, his deeply ingrained Knightly principles deeply wounded and disgusted by your low and dishonorable move.

Oh well, you suppose you'll just have to live with being a honorless dog. Better to be a breathing scoundrel than a noble corpse. You smash your spear against your shield, the tumultuous clang cutting through the clamor as you raise your voice.
"Lost me so quickly? Come here little knight. Die like your men"

With a roar of rage, Thylos hefts his axe, blindly charging in your direction, his eyes inflamed and bloodshot, half blinded by tears and filth

>Sir Thylos is attacking

>Attack

>Defend

>special attack

>Fight Dirty

>FoS

>other
>>
>>2663017
Disarm him and kill him with his own axe.
>>
>>2663017
>>FoS
>FoS

Use his charge's momentum to throw him very far. and maybe yank off his boots. Oh the indignity.
>>
>>2663017
>>Defend
WHEW
>>
>>2663017
>FoS
Charge him as well. He'll expect us to be farther away. Let's just pull his arm off.
>>
Instead of killing the fucker, what if we keep him alive and interrogate him for information? if he has family in the town then there is a high chance we will kill his brother, take his sons and daughters as our own, and make his wife our whore.

We can break him.

>>2663022
>>2663026
What's FoS?
>>
>>2663017
>special attack
>>
>>2663027
I concur. We can keep him around as a thrall, break him, interrogate him. If nothing else, we can use him as ransom.
>>
>>2663022

I like this, I like this a lot.

>>2663027

> what's a FoS

It's a Feat of Strength
>>
>>2663042
>>2663027
We still need to raid the town. Plus he just another moon cunt with a shiny weapon, and we still haven't done shit with eolhim's wife. Let's kill him and be done with it.
FoS means Feat of Strength
>>
>>2663027
FoS stands for feat of strength
An option that adds Magnus' strength bonus to usually fight by using his immense strength like throwing the knight really hard.
>>
>>2663079
Ah but he's no ordinary moon cunt. He's a commander moon cunt that's related to the king of the moon cunts. That means he could be a bartering chip (low chance) or an info dump of relatively useful information. He could know some juicy secrets....hidden hideouts....shiny caches of loot...
>>
>>2663079

I agree, there's no reason we can't interrogate the local Lord, and I'm loathe to add used goods to our harem.
>>
>>2663079
Why is the moral fag now pro killing people instead of capturing them? I don't understand you mate. This isn't just some moonie. This is a commander. This is a direct link to the Moon Lords our ultimate target is to kill all of them. God knows what this guy could tell us.
>>
>>2663082
>>2663099
I'm not thre moralfag asshat, and he's not a fucking commander he's just a lesser noble, which means he's like the fourth cousin of someone of remote importance. Let's do what>>2663086
Said and leave interrogation and bartering for the actual lord instead of some lowly moon cunt hardly above a knight.
>>
>>2663121
Sorry, I misread your ID, I thought you were dickless.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>FoS: Counter charge and ram
>Roll me 1d100+20. Bo3. Beat this roll or take those 2 hits
>>
>>2663121
>Sir Florian Thylos, Guard Captain of Crescent Hall, Knight of the Crescent.
He's a guard captain. Surely he would know some juicy bits of info to help the rapening process we're going to apply to Crescent Hall.
Where the guard barracks is.
Where the local bank is located.
What does he know about lord Thylos and his plans.
Where the local bank is located.
>>
Rolled 53 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2663137
>>
Rolled 89 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2663137
>8
why is this man even here.
>>
Rolled 14 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2663137
>>
>>2663140
You might want to re-read>>2663121
, I'm not against interrogation, I just think we should save it for someone actually worth our time, like the actual lord. He would be a valuable thrall with info on what's happening with their armies. This guy is just some guard captain, let's kill him and move on.
>>
>109>8. Enemy attack interrupted!
>Roll me 1d100+20 damage for that ram. First come first serve.
>>
Rolled 72 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2663183
>>
Rolled 24 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2663183
>>
File: downloadfile-141.jpg (65 KB, 675x900)
65 KB
65 KB JPG
>>2663183

Damage results

Arch Magnus
200/200Hp
80 armor

Sir Florian Thylos, Guard Captain of Crescent Hall, Knight of the Crescent.
175HP
75 armor
92-75=18 damage dealt
175-18=157hp

Not wishing to trade fancy blows with this pompous prick, you instead decide to meet his charge head on. Your men whoop in excitement as you shift your weight forward, your feet pounding along the muddy roadway as you barrel towards the charging Sir Thylos. His axe is hefted back over his shoulder, ready for a powerful strike into the junction of shoulder and neck, your hip or even square into your face. In his half blinded state he barely has time to realize what is going on before you are too close for him to even respond.

*wham*

Your pauldroned shoulder ducks low as you tuck your body down, driving the hardened spike of your armor into the knights upper chest, the difference in your heights preventing you from fully utilizing the Impalimg spike. Even so, the collision sends the smaller man flying backwards, a neat square edged hole punched through the armor of his upper chest, blood seeping in a slow trickle through the puncture.

He struggles to his feet as You roll your neck and shoulder, joints and vertebrate cracking as you grin cockily at him.
"You alright there? Seem to be bleeding a bit"
You can see the spike on your pauldron out of the corner of your eye, the last inch and a half of the vicious point wet with blood. Sir Thylos stands slowly, shaking his head and raising his visor to spit onto the soil, blood and a broken tooth visible in the spittle. He looks at you with hatred in his bloodshot eyes, bringing his visor back down with a gauntleted fist.
"You may have drawn blood barbarian but the Lady protects me. Her light fills my soul and I know she shall deliver victory to me this da-"

"The only thing that's gonna get delivered is my cock to your mother so can we hurry this up?"
You cut off the uptight knight tauntingly, leaning on your spear and gesturing around you with a sweep of your shield
"I've got more important things to worry about"

Sir Thylos grips his axe in both hands, pain forgotten as he slowly advances, his breathing heavy and his eyes blazing with an inferno of hatred.
"Yes barbarian. Lets make this quick"

>Attack

>Defend

>Special Attack

>Fight Dirty

>Feat of strength

>other

>Pic Related is how most of the "Knights" you fought were geared
>>
>>2663254
>>Special Attack
ruinish slash,let's get rid of this armor
>>
>>2663258

> Ruinous Slash
>>
>>2663254
>> Ruinous Slash
>>
>>2663254
Attack
>>
>>2663254
>Ruinous Slash
"I'm gonna ruin that fancy armor, like I'm gonna ruin your mother, you limp dicked windbag!"
>>
Rolled 83, 65, 79 = 227 (3d100)

Magnus used!
>Ruinous Slash!

Sir Thylos is attacking!
>Beat the first roll to interrupt his attack. If you don't, you will take the hits.

Roll me 1d100+10. Bo3.
>>
Rolled 79 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2663359
>>
Anyone consider disarming the knight? he can use the slash attack too.
>>
Rolled 26 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2663359
>>
Rolled 1 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2663359
>>
>>2663381
What have you done
>>
>>2663385
Told ya we should have tried taking him as a thrall.
>>
File: 1449294154868.jpg (34 KB, 400x400)
34 KB
34 KB JPG
>>2663381
Woah there pal thats a Critical failure!

Would you like to use your 1/3 banked crit to negate this astounding fail?

Y/N
>>
Can we use the banked crit?
>>
>>2663389
Y
>>
>>2663389
yes
>>
>>2663389
yes
>>
>>2663389
N
>>
>>2663389
Oh yeah
>>
>>2663389
Y
>>
>Banked Crit used! 0/3 crits remaining!

Hit results-
Thylos
>89>83. Magnus hits! Attack interrupted!

>Roll me 3d100+10. This is gonna hurt. First come first serve.
>>
Rolled 72, 12, 43 + 10 = 137 (3d100 + 10)

>>2663423
d
>>
Rolled 74, 83, 98 + 10 = 265 (3d100 + 10)

>>2663423
>>
Rolled 80, 37, 55 + 10 = 182 (3d100 + 10)

>>2663423
>>
>>2663423
>>2663434

Damage Results

Magnus
200/200HP
80 armor

Sir Florian Thylos
157/175hp
75 armor
137-75=62
157-62=95HP. Sir Thylos is wounded!

Ruinous Blow armor damage- 1/4 of 75 is rounded up to 19
75-19=56.

You breathe deeply, working your grip on the DarkSteel spear as you close on the advancing knight. His men call for your blood, your death to appease the spirits of their slain comrades. His grip shifts on the ironbound haft of his double bladed axe as he strides forward, bringing the blade up and around, the shining edges glittering as the weapon loops around in a hacking strike that would bury it into your knee, ruining the joint and crippling you. Ancient voices whisper in your ears, in tongues known and unknown, living and dead as they urge your movements.

"Raaah!"

>"Now"
"Wha-?!"
His shout of effort is cut off into a surprised gasp as your spear blade cuts downward, intercepting his axe strike and knocking the blade back and at an angle, the weight of the weapon pulling his arm up, leaving him wide open for retaliation. Turning on your heel, you bring the lengthy weapon to bear, the broad, midnight black blade at its end glittering coldly, frost gathering on the enchanted steel. Freezing mist trails from the blade as it comes across in a brutal slashing blow that fills your ears with the shrill squeal of metal on metal.

Blood spatters the ground at your feet as the knight is knocked backward by the blow, clutching a forearm across the shining tear in his chestpieces, the metal sheared across like silk before a razor, the flesh beneath weeping red mixed with frostbitten black, white bone visible in the depths of the furrow. Buckles and straps dangle from the edges of his chestpiece, the ruinous gash extending nearly to his hip.

Blood drips slowly from the vicious injury, the flesh numbed and frozen, mercifully numbing the pain for the time being. Still, Sir Thylos staggers, gasping with agony as his body tells him just how badly he is hurt. His right hand spasms, held diagonally across the wound as he grips his axe with his left, leaning on the weapon like a crutch as he curses to himself, the collective groan of his surviving men seeming to weigh on him as he attempts to straighten and face you once more.

Levelling your blade at the wounded knight, you flick half frozen droplets of blood from the edge and call out to him
"Done so soon little lord? Again! This time with feeling"

>Attack

>Defend

>Special attack

>Fight Dirty

>Feat of Strength

>other
>>
>>2663710
Defend
>>
>>2663710
attack
>>
>>2663387
>we should take this worthless guard captain as prisoner instead of killing people guuuyysssss
>rolls nat 1
>blames others
Like pottery
>>
>>2663710
>Feat of Strength
Now that he's wounded let's steal his axe and then kill him with it.
>>
>>2663710
PoW
>>
>>2663710
>>Attack
>>
>>2663744
This!
>>
>>2663744

This!
>>
Rolled 88, 54 = 142 (2d100)

>Feat of strength
>Disarm and Disembowel edition
>roll me 2d100+20. First to disarm him, second to gut him with his own axe. Bo3
>>
Rolled 56, 60 + 20 = 136 (2d100 + 20)

>>2663844
>>
Rolled 86, 89 + 20 = 195 (2d100 + 20)

>>2663844
>>
Rolled 89, 85 + 20 = 194 (2d100 + 20)

>>2663844
Might as roll since I voted for this option
>>
Rolled 83, 58, 86 + 20 = 247 (3d100 + 20)

>>2663844
>>
Rolled 98, 34 = 132 (2d100)

>>2663844
For posterity's sake, looks like we already got him.
>>
>>2663844
>109>88. Sir Thylos disarmed!
>109>109. Sir Thylos dealt a blow with his own axe

>Roll me a 2d100+10 for damage. First come first serve
>>
Rolled 42, 98 + 10 = 150 (2d100 + 10)

>>2663899
>>
Rolled 3, 16 + 10 = 29 (2d100 + 10)

>>2663899
Here goes nothing.
>>
>>2663742
t.chaotic stupid and proud
>>
>>2663904
150- 56 is 94 he is literally on 1 hp wew
>>
>>2663904
If I did my math right the knight will only have 1 HP left, hopefully he wont have the energy to call for reinforcements with his horn.
>>
>>2663917
Thraaallll
>>
>>2663899
Damage results-

Magnus-
200/200 HP
80armor

Sir Florian Thylos, Guard Captain of Crescent Hall, Knight of the Crescent.
95HP
56 Armor
150-56=94 Damage dealt
95-94=1HP Sir Thylos is mortally wounded!
>Rally is activated!
>I need 1d4 pls, how many mooks will join the fight?
>>
Rolled 1 (1d4)

>>2663961
>>
Rolled 4 (1d4)

>>2663961
>>
>>2663967
Huh. My rolling in this thread has been surprisingly good today.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d4)

>>2663961
>>
Rolled 2 (1d4)

>>2663961
>>
Rolled 1 (1d4)

>>2663961
>>
Your lip curls in contempt and amusement as the wounded knight struggles to his feet, clutching his forearm across the ruinous gash across his chest. Curses and muttered oaths stream from his lips as he stumbles forward, hefting his axe in a awkward one handed grip. The blow is weak, poorly aimed and without enough strength to even require you to block it.

You'll have to show him how to properly use that axe.

With a pair of solid, heavy thumps, your spear and shield fall upon the ground as you release your grip on them. Lunging forward, your gauntleted fist slams into the listings helm, denting the metal inward and thoroughly ringing his bell. His grip on his axe, already weak, slackens, the long handled weapon falling from his grip.

And into yours

With pair of blurring, brutally fast blows with the balanced, double bladed axe, you deal a devastating wound to the Lordling. Slashing across his belly with the gracefully curved axehead, the mail underneath his chestplate parts like cloth, the edge biting deep into his flesh. With a choking gasp of agony he stumbles forward, twisting to hold in his intestines as the second blow comes down. Shouts of dismay and cries of horror echo out as the axe ends its arc buried in Sir Thylos's chest, the curve of the blade embedded so deeply into his body the blade scrapes his spine. Blood spurts from the mortal wounds, spilling his life in crimson spurts that spread slowly across the mud of the roadway as he sags to his knees.

Turning to raise your weapon, the stolen axe of Sir Thylos, you stop as a long brassy note echoes out from behind you. Turning back towards the stricken knight, he pulls a warhorn from his lips, his lips shaking and face as pale as milk. Taking as deep a breathe as he can with his ruined chest, he calls out, his voice clear despite his wounds
"Men of the Valley! To me! Come to my aid! To me!"
His strength spent, he slowly sags to his side, blood seeping slowly from his mortal wounds
"Commander Thylos! Hang on!"
Shouts a young Lancer officer, his face streaked with blood and his armor soaked with gore and filth. The stout, long handled pick in his grip is smeared with brains and pulped flesh, his kite shield studded with the broken shafts of barbed arrows.

>Lietuenant Pythe has joined the fight!
>140HP
>30 armor
>Lancers Pick- 3A 2D 1DD
>Skills-
>Piercing Blow
>Shield Bash

>What do?

>Attack

>Defend

>special attack

>Feat of Strength

>Fight Dirty

>other
>>
>>2664089
Surrender and you might make a decent thrall. Women, riches and glory can be yours.
>>
>>2664089
>FoS
Hurl the axe at him like a hatchet
>>
>>2664105

We've disemboweled him and severed his spine, and we're working with medieval technology. He's deader than dead.

>>2664089

> Feat of Strength

Shatter this whelp's pike, then break him over our knee!
>>
>>2664089
>>Feat of Strength
Split him from stem to stern.
>>
>>2664113
support but i don't think it's a fos
>>
Rolled 61 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>Feat of Strength
>battleaxe hurl
>Roll me a 1d100+20. Beat this dodge roll
>>
Rolled 9 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2664170
>>
>>2664170
bo3 right?
>>
Rolled 86 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2664170
>>
Rolled 34 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2664170
>>
Rolled 54 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2664170
>>
>>2664089
Feet of strength. Rip the pick from his hand, and crush his head with your bare hands. helmet and all.
>>
>>2664277
Didn't realize the quest already moved. I put this action down for if he survives.
>>
Rolled 4 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>2664170
>>
>106>71. Battle axe I choose you!!!

>Roll me 2d100+10. Bo3
>>
Rolled 84, 84 + 10 = 178 (2d100 + 10)

>>2664597
>>
>>2664607
>dubdubs. power overwhelming. this thread has many such dubdubs.
>>
Rolled 26, 69 + 15 = 110 (2d100 + 15)

>>2664597
>>2664607
D-d-d-d-d-dubs!
>>
>>2664597
Wait shit damage roll. My bad. Taking first roll!
>>
Rolled 33, 79 + 10 = 122 (2d100 + 10)

>>2664607
>>
>Damage Results

Arch Magnus
200/200HP
80 armor

Lieutenant Pythe
140/140HP
30 Armor
178-30=148
140-148=-8. Lieutenant Pythe is slain!

"Get away from him you filth!"
Shouts the Lancers, his pick better in his grip, his shield braced in front of him as he pelts toward you at a full charge. His mail hood has fallen back, his ginger hair wet with sweat and blood. A freckled face marked with small scars and a scraggly beard is drawn tight with the kind of blind fury only a true loyalist can possess. This is a man who lives for his country, his countrymen and his superiors, entirely willing to die for those he serves.

You'd be honored to oblige him.

With a grunt of effort, your arm flicks out, the heavy, long handled axe flies like a flung hatchet. Spinning like a water powered saw, it cuts through the air with a whistling hiss, turning end over end so quickly its simply a silver blur in the air. Crossing the distance between you and the foolishly brave Lancet in moments, Lieutenant Pythe only has the barest moment to realize his fate before it is upon him.

*Thwack!*

Lieutenant Pythe stops dead in his tracks, his legs flying out ahead of him as his upper body is flung backwards by the impact. With a limp, heavy thud, his body slams into the ground, sprawled spread eagle, his arms and legs twitching as dying nerves send messages that cannot be obeyed. The cause of this fatal error is the double bladed axe embedded in his skull so deeply it has split his skull from brow to the base of his throat, the blades themselves buried between his collarbone. Like a melon cloven by a greatsword, his brain, sinuses and tongue are perfectly halved, blood and fluid gushing around the devastating wound.

Your men cheer and whoop, smashing weapons to shields and howling into the night as they set about the bloody work of slaughtering the remaining warriors of Crescent Hall. Blood flows in rivers, steel sings its battle song and men and horses scream in agony as above it all, comes a chant, a chant that you are sure sets Dagmars teeth on edge, one that echoes through the night for miles around, one that shakes the blood in your veins as you heft your fists high, stained with blood and gore, roaring your victory.
"Magnus! Magnus! Magnus!"

>End thread
>Going to take a break for a few days to work on some issues i noticed with my writing. Next thread will be within a week or so, feel free to join my discord or follow my twitter for a heads up.
>if you have any comments, questions, criticism or advice feel free to throw it at me. You guys stay awesome!!!
>>
>>2664657
We love you QM.
>>
>>2664657
A comment. who gets to wear the commander's armor and who gets the axe? I know none of Dagmar's pissy raiders probably can't wield something this massive.
>>
>>2664657
What kind of loot did we get from this encounter? who gets to keep the horse?
>>
>>2664671
Us! We killed the commander and ALL of his shitty bodyguards BY OURSELVES. That badass horse, the axe, and all the armor and weapons left by lancers and demi knights belong to us by virtue of wrecking their shit.

If Dagmar or anyone else bitches we'll just point out that the loot is ours by conquest and then ram the handle of the greataxe up his ass.
>>
>>2664669
armors(chest) is fucked to be fair probably only worth scrap
>>
>>2664657
Good bread
>>
>>2664676
We did say we were taking less loot than Dagmar tho. Either way, we get something we cant buy with loot: Honor, glory and respect
>>
>>2664657
I thought you said you didn't like discords?
>>
>>2664657
ya dun good.




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