Oredion... Etny... Atriox... you stand your ground.
The brutal white tusk orcs advance with fury. Their piecemeal armor, their sharpened swords, their helmets painted with the blood of their enemies. Trees crash down around the forest, felled by large, trained bulettes tunneling before them. The front lines ride dire boars, their tusks crimson. The trumpets continue to sound, thundering boots rushing--tumbling--breaking through the tree line.
Kobolds screech and scatter, knocked from the trees where they perch--watching as sentries. Scouts are trampled and hacked to pieces by the falchions at their backs. They flee, dodging and weaving through the forest as quickly as their claws can carry them.
The orcs roar in victory, the retreat spurring them onward to slaughter.
Across the open field their lizard quarry panics, breaking for town. For the sea. What a pitiful defense. They will be driven into the depths and massacred along with the townsfolk. They will receive no mercy. Not one child will be left alive. Then the town will be theirs for the taking. All the spoils will be sweetened with the cries of the dying.
Suddenly...
The boars disappear. Orcs and beasts alike tumble down into the soft dirt, monstrous screams and cries resounding as shallow tunnels collapse. The feet of the kobolds too light to trigger them, they rush to safety as their enemies tumble down into pits ten feet deep and littered with sharp, skewering spikes.
Out from a trench past the kobolds, human, elven and dwarvish soldiers spring up with swords and spears drawn. Led by Commander Ironfist and Cere Bronzebottle, they charge forward, cutting down the orcs that happen to make it across. Lieutenant Donovan leads the charge from the side, several horsemen and archers ready to pin in their prey.
(@Collin J. L. Robinson, lead your orcs to victory with @Andrew Woodhouse! @Aubrey Burmaster wreck stuff with that war horse!
Atriox sits atop his horse watching the start of the battle glaive in hand. He smiles a little at how well the trap pits worked. At least something went partially right this day. Deciding the time is right Atriox signals for the Fire to be lit
From the trees Wilster Decanter waits with a few kobolds. The alchemist, invisible from one of his own potions, steps forward out of hiding as the orcish troops pass the tree line. Wilster grasps a thin glass bottle in his hand. Shaking a little, he throws it toward a line of sticky, tar-like substance spread across the dry grass. As the bottle impacts it burns horribly hot--the material he accidentally made in his shop over the past few months incredibly flammable.
The fire roars to life, higher than the treetops. Wilster runs for cover along with the kobolds. The orcs turn in surprise, the flames lighting up in their eyes.
Atriox steels himself for the many long hours ahead. He nudges his horse forward into battle
@Aubrey Burmaster Tank rumbles from town, pulling a cart like a bull. He's covered in patches of armor plating, his horns metal tipped. In the cart sits Zeed, atop a strange-looking crossbow machine... the haphazardly repaired scorpion that Vele and Ferrar Axemage tackled together. Nathaniel kneels next to Zeed, passing up long, five foot bolts. Each one loaded takes a moment to shoot, but easily skewers through two or three orcs at a time.
They head straight for the mud pit, dug and filled to capture unsuspecting enemies. Many have fallen knee deep into the mire, slogging through at a snail's pace. They shoot at them like fish in a barrel. The massive force behind each blow is devastating, especially with a rampaging minotaur leading the charge.
Oredion starts to yell a war chant over the chaos. His eyes engulf in a dark, dark green flame and he can fill his rage snap. He green energy travels down into his weapon and shield illuminating then a light electric green. He tenses his muscles, winding them back, and releases his axe in an arc at the evil orcs frontlines.
(Strength 13+5)
@Collin J. L. Robinson You are a beacon of Gruumsh in the night for your orcs to rally to. They run beside you, weapons raised, war cries in their hearts and in their voices accentuating your chant.
The enemy sees the fire, the flames, the light. For a brief moment before the axe slices through their necks and severs their spines, you can see it illuminate their surprised faces. That their god has chosen a dwarf--an enemy of theirs in battle--with a boon greater than anything they've ever seen before.
A dozen fall at a time to your well placed axe, their blood anointing the battlefield in the name of your god. Seeing the slaughter fills you with power, and a roar erupts from your throat that you've never before uttered. It is raw. Bestial. Ferocious.
Oredion taken over with ferocity runs towards the oncoming army. He calls his axe back to him slicing a few more with his weapon before reaching his hand. He looks back at the orcs with bloodlust behind his flaming eyes and screams.
"Chargeeeeee"
They rush forward with you. You see some fall, but they take many more with them than you could have imagined. Not only do you cast down orc after orc with your axe, but you smash skull after skull with your shield--within minutes the entire thing glistens red, the spines of the dragon Tyranus shining brightly with red and green energy. They seem to be absorbing the blood they take in, making the shield grow brighter and brighter.
Oredion lost to his ferocity starts to swing even more wildly killing anything that lays before him. He pushes through the orcs line and finds himself surrounded. He doesn't hesitate to continue killing. Although he gets cut, stabbed, and beaten he continues his onslaught of everything around him. He slips to one knee of the blood of his enemies and the orcs instantly jump on him. There's a bright green light and they all fall back dead. Oredion stands in the middle holding his axe in his worn out hands and his shield dropped low. He is covered in blood from head to toe. The only color you can see on him besides red is the dark green glow if his flaming eyes that are now reaching above his head.
(Intimidation 14+5)
@Aubrey Burmaster Bitey can be seen slicing through the orcs one by one, his daggers slipping in between armor plates like a wasp. Each finds a mark with a tendon or an artery, felling foe after foe. Kobolds leap up from little burrows like rabbits, stabbing ankles and skewering thighs. They attack visciously and are gone in a flash.
You look back to the war machine being driven by Tank, Zeed and Nathaniel and hear a loud explosion. Some crucial part has just snapped, the sound of it echoing across the pitch of battle. You see the primary mechanism ricochet as the cart crashes, Tank ripping himself free from the wreckage.
Atriox closes in on the battle with his units right behind him. He sees Ore and the huntress off on the right side leading the charge and that Commander Ironfist is leading the left side. He gets a bloodthirsty grin on his face and charges right for the middle. He and his men hit the enemy forces and clash, giving them everything they have.Atriox rides through the thick of things as he swings his glaive here and there chopping off heads and arms holding weapons. One big orc charges right at him with a giant sword raised over head, as he gets into striking range Atriox let's out a roar and stabs him right in his mouth as the orc let's out a battle cry. The big oaf drops dead. After some more riding around Atrioxs horse is struggling to get around all the bodys. Atriox tastes blood in his mouth, weather it's his or all the dead orcs he is unsure. He let's out a giant roar letting out all of his frustration and anger at current events (intimidation 17)
He raises his glaive and points to the wall of fire, yelling to his men above the roar of battle
"Push ! Push Men ! Push the filthy,miserable, globs against the fire ! Burn them ! Make them regret ever fighting us !"
(18+2 Charisma)
****
@Collin J. L. Robinson The orcs around you are horrified at the immense power that is radiating from you. Some begin to turn and run, charging into battle with the humans, elves, orcs and kobolds surrounding you on the field.
A pulse ripples through your body. The moon shines down on your bright shield. On your flaming eyes.
Another pulse.
(Roll an INT save for me, Collin)
(Natural 1+6)
@Collin J. L. Robinson @Andrew Woodhouse
Your mind feels like it splits.
Your body aches in agony, rippling tendrils of fiery light cascading down your arms. Your legs. The pain you felt when your arm broke in the woods is minuscule to the pain that racks your limbs now. It feels like every bone is breaking, regrowing, and breaking again.
It is utter hell.
You hear your god's laugh echo in your ears, and then it fades into a roar.
A roar that escapes your own throat.
Your armor pulls tight against your skin, digging into your flesh. Parts break, snapping and ripping and pulling. Hair--fur--sprouts from your beard and up your neck--across your face--down your body as your arms triple in size. Your legs bend and buckle under the pressure, the intensity. You struggle to breathe. Every sense is heightened. Your nose smells every drop of blood around you. Every bead of sweat. Your ears ache with the sounds of metal and cries of death.
It makes your mouth water.
Etny, you turn around, having fired another arrow into the crowd of oncoming enemies. The shockwave blasts several away, knocking them senseless and splitting open a few torsos with the energy. You've heard the cries of Oredion, almost as if he were dying. Tortured. In immense pain. Your eyes widen in terror.
You see a giant, terrifying bear where your friend once was. Not just a bear. Twisted. A beast. An animal. One full of rage and terror, electrified tribal tattoos running over its body. Erupting from its eyes.
Oredion... all you see before you is a blood bath you wish to sink your teeth into. You see no difference between friend and foe. All are meat before your maw.
(Roll a 1d10 for me...)
(9)
(You are enraged against all creatures on the battlefield for the next 9 minutes. Good luck. Lol.)
(You are still bipedal if you wish to grab your axe and/or shield, but that's up to you. You also gain a bite attack, 1d6 piercing + str Mod for damage)
(Do I still sorta Rp it or do you take control?)
(You can RP it for now. I'll take control sometimes, and have you make rolls periodically to try to control things. I trust you.)
Oredion... no not even that. His instincts and bloodlust takes control. He feels a stab in his legs and turns sideways to see an orc stabbing him. The were-bear tips the weapon out and drop kicks the orc in the face. He then proceeds to pick up a shield and a axe that are filled with a green light, that almost seem like they call to him. He looks up to see more orcs surrounding him. He takes his axe and starts swing it ragingly at everything in front of him. He hits slice clean through anything daring enough to get close. He rushes forwards bashing his spiked shield into one of the orcs. It impales the orc onto the shield and he lifts it up with the orc still on it. He let's the orcs blood flow down onto him and then quickly swings the shield launching the dead bloody orc off. He is now covered in blood and enraged. A small smile crosses its lips as it rushes forwards and starts to kill once more everything in sight.
(Had a migraine this morning guys...sorry. lol)
"OREDIOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNN!!!" Etny's cry of desperation and sorrow echoes across the battlefield. Something in her wants to save the bear beast that is her dearest friend, and something in her also wants to stop this beast. She has had to hunt many creatures in her time, and has faced very deadly queries. But this was different: She couldn't just bring herself to treat what she was witnessing like prey, for it was still her friend. But...She must try. She must try...
She raises her bow up, drawing slowly, a thunder arrow at the ready....
...and can't. The bow lowers again. Tears stain her face. *Oredion-elenn...*
Etny decides then to move with the bear beast that was Oredion. She races forward, making sure to keep a safe distance behind the creature.
(I cast Hunter's Mark on this thing...gives me advantage on survival and perception checks made against it. 😂)
@Collin J. L. Robinson The were-bear lunges through a group of creatures, throwing his axe at several. It slices and fells them as it embeds itself in a nearby tree trunk, flickering and straining to break free again. You slam down with your full body weight on top of two orcs, unsure if they're friend or foe. You feel their spines snap under the pressure and their rib cages cave in.
You snatch up another fleeing creature in your mouth, crunching down on it. The blood runs thick in your maw, the taste of gamey kobold flesh intoxicating....
You turn to look behind you, your eyes raging with green flame.
(Go for it Collin! We'll take turns XD)
(maybe each time we post......... that counts as a minute. And we'll take turns. That sound good? So... 3 minutes have passed?)
Etny stops dead in her tracks, the bear beast looking behind it. She dives and rolls out of the way, into a grove of nearby trees. She cherishes her beloved dwarven friend, but wasn't keen on dying just yet.
(17 stealth! Woot!)
It turns to see more orcs following behind him. He no longer has his axe and just rushes forwards with his shield smashing it into the incoming wave of orcs. He picks one up with his free hand and bites out its neck. Blood rushes down the bears face covering its maw in blood. He spots a female human not knowing it Etny and let's out a blood curling roar that shakes the battlefield. He drops his shield and starts to charge her. Tearing anything apart, be it friend or foe, in his path to reach the huntress.
(@Collin J. L. Robinson Go ahead and roll a perception check for me)
(11+7)
The were-bear loses sight of the huntress but her scent fills the air... the sharp smell of mint cuts through the rich, thick blood and ash.
He hunts.
Charging through the crowd he crushes a human fighter, caving in the man's skull with a strike of the shield. Three kobolds leap atop him, trying to climb up to his head, but his fur hide is too thick for their weapons to pierce. The tribal tattoos flare up with electricity and electrocute the lizards. One he grabs, slamming it against the front of the shield and impaling it before ripping its carcass away in shreds.
He spots a flash of auburn hair and violet eyes in the din. He lets out a blood curdling roar, gaining on her. He will hunt the hunter. He will not be felled.
(5 minutes in)
Etny let's out a yelp, and dive-rolls away. She doesn't want to shoot her beloved friend and companion, but also realizes he is..not quite himself.
(I move 15 ft away).
She makes a quick decision, and draws her bowstring. Letting a thunder arrow fly, she regrets every moment of it, but...what choice does she have?
"I'm so sorry, elenn," tears still streaming down her face.
(24 attack!)
(Nice Andrew XD I'll allow the roll for this. See if you can do any damage to the bear.... lol....)
(16 damage, and the werebear needs to make a con saving throw...XD)
Petvin and Matilda stand guard near the city with Magnolia and Dahlia, along with all of the healers the town has. They wait to help fallen soldiers and kobolds alike, dragged back to their lines by the temple orcs.
Markas Manneo, the goliath sorcerer from Stonebreak Keep, whisks his hand over the battlefield casting scorching rays into tides of enemies. A stray arrow strikes him in the shoulder, but he rips it out and continues his onslaught. Pointing a fist at an oncoming orc captain, the enemy is surrounded by crackling purple energy. A crown of madness settles over him and his eyes glow bright, before he turns his sword on his own soldiers.
The were-bear fills the arrow strike his fur and explode. It does not falter back and only fills it with more rage. He looks to where the arrow flew from and let's out a mighty roar that overpowers the sound of battle around him. He starts to walk towards where he thinks it came from slaying anything in its path. The tribal tattoos light up a dark electric green and its eyes burst into a towering flame over its head. It does not care of any pain it receives and continues to walk forward feeling it must find this human.
Etny realizes that that was a mistake. A big mistake. As versatile and powerful as her thunder arrows are, it did nothing but anger the beast that was one her friend.
(I make a dash action to get away, moving 60 ft in total.)
She dives and rolls several times, and puts some distance between herself and the werebear.
(Collin make a constitution saving throw, btw. XD)
(Nat 20+6)
@Collin J. L. Robinson @Andrew Woodhouse (Collin, I messed up on attack damage. I'll pm you with werebear stats lol)
The wounds being inflicted by the swords, spears, daggers and pikes don't faze the were-bear at all. What blood is spilt almost seems to fuel him further. He grabs the spiraled dragonbone arrow and wrenches it out of his flesh, flinging it into a crowd. It skewers a creature in the neck, the gurgling death sounds lost in the cacophony.
Dropping to all fours, the bear roars and charges forward. (60 feet dash action)
(7 minutes in)
The were-bear stands before the female human. He goes to strike and his arm trembles. Deep down Oredion tries to stop the bear screaming "Nooo." The were-bear roars and strikes forwards killing an orc approaching the human. He looks down its rage overpowering Oredions will to stop and winds its arm back to strike once more, when suddenly a small salamander crosses his vision crawling across its face and quickly back into its fur. The were-bear starts to strike its fur to no avail trying to find the salamander. It feels a strike in it's back legs bringing the were-bear to its knees. He turns to see a group of orcs slashing at its legs and backs. The were-bear let's out a loud roar and swings its hand back smacking the orcs away with its mighty strength. He can hear there ribs snapping as they fall to the ground spasming gasping for air. The were-bear stands up quickly and turns around stomping on the orcs and clawing away at more coming his way. He turns his sights back to the human and heard a voice pleading in its head saying "No! Anyone else besides her!"
(Int save 13+6)
(9 minute mark............)
The injuries rake against your hide like stinging bees at first. Then as biting vipers. Then as clawing talons. The pain becomes more intense as the fire begins to die a little in your eyes. Your mental fight with the beast is straining the power it has, the moon waning low in the sky.
Your body convulses with powerful blasts of energy. Etny, you turn to see the creature fighting against itself--wracked with torment as it roars again and again, weaker each time. Orcs begin to rush it, tackling it and hacking away with swords. One sees you and rushes for you, huntress, extremely close and difficult to shoot.
(You have better control over the form now, that was a great INT roll Collin! Roll another 1d10. That's how many more turns you'll stay a bear.)
(Oof that was rough rolled a 7)
(So is oredion mainly in control now or is he still rampaging and can just target where his rage goes now?)
(The latter)
Etny drops her bow to the ground and draws her poleaxe. In one swift motion, she stabs the oncoming orc with the sharp end of her poleaxe, and, lifting the creature up in the air, slams him down into the ground.
(14 athletics to lift the orc in the air and slam him down onto the ground, skewering him on the poleaxe.
The were-bear raises his hand out of the mass of orcs and tries desperately to call his axe to him. The axe wiggles in the tree violently until it frees itself. It then zips threw the battlefield slicing orcs along the way to land in the bears hand with a loud electric boom. Electricity flows threw the were-bear as it stands. Its tribal tattoos lighting up with electricity and they start to glow a bright green. He twirls his axe quickly killing all the orcs surrounding him. He breathes heavily loosing his balance and drops to one knee in front of the human. He looks over at the human and locks eye contact with her. The green flame disappears from his eyes revealing Oredions rustic brown eyes. A look of sadness passes the bears features as he looks at her. He reaches his hand out to lightly touch her face when suddenly a spear strikes the bears back digging into its fur and piercing flesh. His eyes quickly engulf in flames once more and he turns to go on a rampage killing any and all enemies he lays his eyes upon. He can now pick out who is on his side and who is not.
****
@Aubrey Burmaster Many orcs turn and flee from before your glaive and horse, ducking out of reach as best they can. There is general panic at your terrifying approach. Your eyes glow a shadowy red in the night, the smell of the blood in the air invigoratingly delectable.
Your horse suddenly staggers and falls, an arrow lodged deep in its chest. You leap from its back landing deftly on the battlefield. Orcs turn and rush you, war cries ringing out in your ears. Your teeth flood with blood red color.
Near where the fire has started bulettes suddenly burst from the earth like great sharks of the sea, their razor sharp teeth gnashing and shredding anything that gets in their way. They have spikes embedded in their hides, causing them to rage in pain. Kobolds flee in vain from their onslaught, having been caught down in the runner tunnels with the beasts. Any that couldn't scramble to the surface in time become fuel for their wrath.
Atriox fights off all the orcs rushing him, sustaining cuts here and there but nothing really to damaging. Though the constant intake of small amounts of blood helps with that........he has begun to feel a deeper craving........
Hid eyes flash red with hunger. He spots a rather good sized orc charging him and smiles..........revealing not only a maw of sharp dragon teeth but also a set of new fangs that almost match his dragon incisors. As the orc gets closer Atriox sidesteps him and cuts the orc deeply across the leg. As the orcs leg buckles under the pain Atriox rushes to him and impales him from behind. One hand on his glaive the other on the orcs head Atrioxs bites into the orcs neck
@Aubrey Burmaster Your eyes glow bright red, the thick, visceral sensation of the blood an overflow of ecstasy. It's like taking a hit from a powerful narcotic. The high you get is nothing like you've ever experienced before as you drain out his life from his neck. Biting in deeper, your dragonborn teeth keep him perfectly stationary, gurgling out his last breaths. Your wounds seem to close up, the injuries stemming the worst of the effects. Shadows roil off of you almost like wings in the night.
Oxious steps forward on the sidelines, behind the advancing soldiers. Dressed in battle mage robes he raises his hands, his old staff in one and a wand in another. He shakes, sweating from the effort, but you feel a silvery rain falling down upon your bodies from the sky. As it touches your skin and that of your allies, you are renewed. Exhaustion ebbs away slightly, your arms and legs stronger. You grip your weapons tighter, ready to fight.
(He casts mass bull's strength on the army: The spell grants a +4 enhancement bonus to Strength, adding the usual benefits to melee attack rolls, melee damage rolls, and other uses of the Strength modifier. We'll need this for rolls... soon.... don't worry :D It'll last for the first few rounds of combat where we need dice)
Goblins--those who escaped from the slaughter at the encampment north of Tanglewood--break from the hills to the west. They move like insects across the plain, dodging the spots of fire and ash. They carry with them ropes, sticks and weapons. However instead of fighting... they seem to be carrying off the dead. They don't seem picky, whether human, orc, kobold, elf; whatever they can get their hands on they drag away. Those who are too large...
Start to be dismembered.
The pieces of the dead are being taken into the forest.
****
@Andrew Woodhouse Despite the size difference you have the benefit of leverage. Your poleaxe easily swings down into the orc, skewering him right through the heart. Blood splurts from his mouth as he struggles to breathe, dying in seconds.
"OREDIOOOOOONNNNNNN-ELEEEEEEENNNNNNN!" Etny cries out as the werebear is hit with a spear, and seeing his distress, rushes forward, plowing through the orcs attacking her friend with her poleaxe.
Performing a great swinging swath with her poleaxe, Etny slices through the bodies of several of the orcs, the axe portion of her weapon cleaving mercilessly and desperately in defense of Oredion.
(18 attack roll)
(Against a bunch of dem!)
@Collin J. L. Robinson @Andrew Woodhouse A small platoon of skeletons filters in behind the orcs, creeping from the trees like ghouls in the night. Their eyes glow a haunting pale blue, a raspy false breath croaking from their bones as it propels them forward toward you.
The were-bear raises its other hand calling its shield to its hand. He rushes forwards and starts to slash and bash threw the skeletons. He takes one by the skull lifting it into the air and crushes its skull. A scent passes the were-bear's nose that makes him stop attacking. He sniffs the air and smells something familiar, something disgusting, something he must kill. GOBLINS! The were-bear stops attacking the skeletons and charges across the field to where he smells the scent of goblins.
(Athletics 9+7)
The field is thick with the bodies of the dead and the dying, along with those still fighting and rallying to their captains. You can see the goblins starting at the other side of the field, their telltale mottled skin and wretched stench overpowering. You rush as quickly as you can in their direction.
Etny watches the werebear take off across the field, headed she knows not where. Regardless, she begins to lay into the skeletons with a cold brutality that belies her often cool demeanor.
Cutting a swath through the skeletons, Etny takes several blows, wounds opening and blood beginning to trickle. One skeleton jams a weapon into her once-injured shoulder--the one Oredion had thrown his axe into--and the wound opens wide again, blood pouring out.
Skeletons press in around you, pushing you back away from the forest. Their blue glow lets off the musty smell of decay, sweet and sickly. You hear the tramping of feet nearby, unlike a horse--turning for a split second you see a mighty felldrake rushing at you. Atop it rides Tak, swinging around a javelin and taking off the skull of the nearest enemy. With him is Gaare, rushing up and kicking another skeleton in the chest.
Tak looks at you from his mount and growls but not in anger. More like shared battle and blood. You notice that Vele is sitting behind him with a basket strapped to her back. She's lobbing strange things at the enemies--bottles of glass shards and sticky sap, balls of flesh burrowing rot rubs, poisonous centipedes... it's surprising what she has with her.
The were-bear let's our a loud roar as he reaches the goblins. He stands tall all of his muscles tightening and his eyes burning brightly. A smile passes the bears beaten face revealing his row of sharp teeth. He rushes forwards taking a goblin in his hand and throwing them in the air to fall back down upon his raised shield. The bear smiles at the goblins screams and moves forwards to kill more gleefully.
The goblins scramble to continue their work, compelled to drag away the dead and distract you as long as possible. Several rush at you, swarming your fur with daggers and javelins hoping to tie you down with ropes.
Atriox let's go of the dead and drained orc letting him fall to the ground. Atriox raises his head and roars again feeling the strength from his feeding course through his veins.
After a moment Atriox stops and continues fighting. Giving the orcs everything he has. He pushes more torwards thr middle cutting down anything in his way, arms, heads, legs.
He yells out to help inspire his men
"Keep pushing ! Make them pay for every brother or sister they kill ! Make them bleed or suffer ! Make sure Orcs all over the world never forget the Battle of Dragonshore and how they were torn to shreds !"
(Charisma 16)
The were-bear swings his axe severing the ropes and decapitating one of the goblins in the process. He grabs one off of his back and slams it to the ground and stomps upon the goblins head. He swings his shield to his left impaling one in the side that was trying to go behind him. He turns forwards looking at the last four and swings his axe down severing one in half. He drops his axe and grabs two by the heads and slams there heads together with a sickening crunch. He looks at the last one and it tries to back away and grabs it in his hands. He holds the wiggling goblin above him and rips him in half slowly hearing the goblins screams as its torn in half. He turns his sights to the goblins carrying dead bodies and dismembering limbs and charges at them.
@Aubrey Burmaster The Dragonshore soldiers and kobolds alike cry out in their rallied arms. They pour after you, trying to split the orc army in two. Kobolds fall by the dozens but not without inflicting heavy casualties on the orcs leading the charge. The traps continue to trip the enemies up, tunnels piled high with bodies.
Commander Ironfist raises his sword high, bringing it down on the head of an orc captain and cleaving it in two. You spot him in the distance and he hails to you Atriox, but then his eyes grow wide. He stumbles forward, falling to his knees and crashing into the bloody dirt. A massive greataxe is embedded in his back.
A familiar hand pulls it out and kicks the body aside.
"We meet again. Funny I keep running into you, Unbroken One."
A vampiric smile creeps across the face of Bonebreaker Dorokor. She rushes at you, intending to bring her axe up across your chest and right into your heart. It misses and she spins around in an arc, slamming the weapon into your side.
(17 to hit with first attack--2nd attack 26.... 20 damage total)
(We're going to play around with.......... gruesome injuries for this fight. If you take 25% of your max HP in one hit, drop to 0, or take a critical hit..... Buckle up munchkins. @Aubrey Burmaster Roll a 1d100 for me please.)
(98 btw)
****
@Collin J. L. Robinson
Shambling shadows push their way through the trees, several all together... unimpeded by the residual flames and smoke. They lumber... awkwardly. Unnaturally. There is a foul stench on the air.
In the light of the battlefield the figures finally become visible. Those nearby them stop in utter horror, rooted to the spot. Oredion, despite the call of the goblin's blood that needs spilling, you can't help but falter at the sight before you.
The behemoth monstrosities are fleshy golems made of the parts of your fallen comrades and enemies. Kobold arms twitch and flex their sharp claws, while orcish legs move the zombie-like terrors forward. Human heads and torsos stitched together spill out bile and entrails from shoddily patched skin. Some parts have completely meshed together into a mass of sickening flesh, twitching and writhing with magic inside of them.
Oredion turns at the disgusting sight if the golems. His mind tells him to continue killing the goblins, but his body charges the golems. He throws his axe at the closets ones legs trying to bring it down.
(Strength 19+5 Attack 13+10 Damage 17)
@Collin J. L. Robinson The axe cuts through the legs with ease, severing a few Achilles heels and lobbing off one leg entirely. On its return swing it slices through several kneecaps, the monster bowling over and crushing goblins beneath it. It thrashes around on the ground.
A second comes up behind you, arms raised to pummel. (24 attack, 12 damage)
Etny kneels, blood pouring from her open wound, the sounds of battle carrying off in the direction Oredion is heading. She is exhausted, her poleaxe on the ground, her bow a stone's cast away. Etny's breathing comes in ragged torrents, her whole body trembling from the pain if her wounds.
(DM, how much damage do you think I took, and do I need to roll a d100?)
(61)
You feel stunned and off balance from blood loss. It's hard for you to focus, your head swimming. (Disadvantage on next attack or check)
Speaking of.... make a dexterity saving throw @Andrew Woodhouse
(17 with disadvantage)
The ground rumbles beneath you, swaying like an earthquake. Suddenly it breaks open. You leap out of the way just in time to escape the maws of a bulette, grinding up the bodies of the dead where you were just standing.
You land next to your bow, shaking the dizziness off. You feel it in your hand and its power--the power and love of your tribe, of your father--in the beautifully carved weapon. The memories urge you to keep pushing.
Etny, despite her wounds, pushes herself onward. She sees the bulette, and barely dodging out of the way of its onslaught, dives and rolls, grabbing her bow in the process.
She takes aim at the creature with a thunder arrow, and fires.
(15 vs AC)
@Andrew Woodhouse The arrow flies right past the beast's head, landing in an area of the battlefield further back. You hear a small explosion as it radiates a thunderwave, knocking back enemies in the process.
The bulette skids through the bodies, beginning to tunnel again as it rips and tears the humanoids. You see a look of terror and pain on its face with the large spears through its hide--orcish in make. They look like they were attached to control the creatures in the mountains.
Oredion swings his axe back slicing the golem, trying to pummel it, across the face quickly. Then jumps upon the fallen golem and swings down with all his might trying to finish the horrid creature.
(Attack 1:18+10/ 2: 9+10 Damage 1:14/ 2:19)
@Collin J. L. Robinson Your axe tears through the parts of the beast and rip it apart. The flesh golem hisses out a monstrous sound, the seams splitting open from the energy. Snakes begin to spill from its insides. Scaly heads erupt from the gaping wounds, like maggots feasting on the dead. They slither across the battlefield, biting and snapping at anyone who comes too close.
@Collin J. L. Robinson Your ears ring with a mighty roaring in the wind. It quakes you, cutting through the din of chaos and the hissing of the mountains of snakes. You feel your teeth itch to sink into more goblins, eyes glowing with green fire.
A flesh golem is attempting to swipe at nearby human soldiers. Tank has made his way to you, trying to help fight against the onslaught. He spears one golem with his horns, yelling for you as he grapples the beast.
"BEAR MAN! DWARF! YOU OK BUDDY!?"
****
(Crippled.... DC 20 medicine check with healers kit outside battle to negate negative effects)
@Aubrey Burmaster You block without thinking and the axe makes contact with your forearm first, the glaive too close to properly protect you. You feel a lancing pain up your body as your arm is broken in two places, rendering it almost useless from the pain. Dorokor jumps back, a sneer on her face as she watches you.
(You can use that arm still but it has disadvantage on any DCS that require the use of that limb)
Atriox rears back on pain holding his arm up against his chest in pain. He growls abit at Kora
After a few seconds he gives her a sad look
"I assume you got my note? I figured it wouldn't do any good and that I'd see you on this field. I must a say I'm saddened. I've never been one to resist destroying my enemies.........but I dont want to destroy you Kora.....something about you I find most intriguing.
Such a shame..........I underestimated you......Kora........the powerful, beautifully terrifying Orc cheiftes......"
Atriox falls to his knees and mocks surrender and utter exhaustion. Clutching his arm to his chest like its crippled
"I am spent.......utterly drained and i.........I cant bare the thought of killing you Kora......"
(Deception 19)
He looks up at her, meeting her eyes.....hoping to show a mix of strong emotions as he's not completely lying........
Suddenly Atrioxs uses his good arm to swing his glaive around in a deadly arc. Swing the blade down his trys to embed it in Koras leg right above the knee
(26 crit. 16 damage)
(That was freaking clever @Aubrey Burmaster !!!! Loved the creativity....definitely succeeded deception rolling)
For a moment she hesitates, the smug look sliding from her lips. There's almost a sense of... reluctance. She is a hired sword after all, but...
THWUNK!
The glaive flashes out like lightning, cutting through her armor and deep into her flesh. Her eyes flare in rage and pain as her knee is jerked downward with the force, her grip on her axe, Wound, almost lost. She slams into the ground, putting one gauntleted hand atop the glaive to prevent it from coming back up and hitting her in the face.
Through gritted teeth she laughs in horrid pain. "You fight like one of my own.... touche." Her smile twists in agony, unsure how to feel about this unexpected turn of events.
(Rolled a d100... "overpowered".... next attack against her acts as multiattack. :D You get two shots now, Atriox, lol.)
Atriox quickly scrambles over to her and grabs her by the neck
"While I appreciate the compliment on my combat techniques I want you to know that I meant it......I dont want us to be enemies . With you guarding Skyhold nothing could beat us. We'd be unstoppable......but sadly for tonight at least you've given me no choice Kora."
He quickly bits down on her neck like she once had done to him. Though he doesn't want to do this he forces himself to keep going, hating how good she tastes. He keeps on draining her as she struggles against him he pushes his blade further into her leg to keep her down. Finally.......using all his willpower he let's go of her neck. Leaving her mostly drained but not dead he punches her once for good measure.
He gets up taking a moment to breath. After a few gulps of air he pulls his glaive out of her leg. Predicting the blood fountain that erupts he drags a dead body over and grabs the corpses arm. Holding it above her mouth he slices open the arm with a talon and let's the blood flow into her mouth. After shes healed just enough he removes the blood source and looks around for his men. He spots some and flags them over. They look bloody and worn down but he needs them to do this.
"See this orc woman? Take her prisoner and fall back ! Get to friendly space and make sure she's taken to the temple. Tie her up and secure her. Have troops guard her at all times till I arrive. NO ONE ! I mean no one is to get close to her or listen to her you understand ? Now go ! Stay safe brothers !"
As they leave with Kora he watches for a second and then picks up his glaive in one hand and her axe in another.....
Feeling stronger than ever on Koras blood he charges forth with both weapons, his eyes reder than the pits of hell.
****
@Chantry Williams Your breath is ragged as you race down the mountainside. You pass through the forest and the countless bodies of kobolds that died as scouts against the orcs and bulettes. You leap over some that look rather young, others more seasoned. Their ragged corpses seem an ill omen of the battle up ahead. The smell of blood is thick in the air.
Pressing on with as much force as you can muster, you start to focus all your energies into your body. Your skin. Your muscles. Your legs. You know you must save the town. Your friends. These poor orphans you just risked your neck--and Tucker's--to retrieve from the jaws of the enemy. You're going to push yourself beyond what you know is safe. What you've been warned about. Nothing will stop you.
You are The Tempest.
A crackling of power trickles up your legs with blue and white energy, engulfing you in a stormy haze. Within a second you disappear, leaping through the forest as a mist--right over the middle of the battlefield.
You look down below at the massive fighting between orcs, kobolds, humans, elves, goblins... this has to stop. You close your draconic eyes and a roar escapes your throat, louder than anything you've heard before. You aim for an area full of enemy orcs and flesh golems.
@Chantry Williams
Hitting the ground with your fist extended, a huge bolt of lightning ripples down from the sky and through your body. It impacts the ground as your fist does, sending out a massive blast of purplish blue power. It uses literally every ounce of magic you have.
BOOM!
The blast is instant. Ground caving in around you from a forty foot radius, the electricity flows across the armies with a sizzling CRACK. (24 damage to everyone within the radius)
Orcs collapse with spasms of power bursting their ear drums, blood pouring from their noses. It fells at least 100 orcs in an instant.
@Chantry Williams From the middle of your blast, no one dares approach you. The terrifying radius of your attack keeps them easily at bay. You see fallen soldiers of every race around you through your stormy haze.
Donovan runs, leading his troops to safety. Tak and Vele, who were on their way to that area, struggle to control the maddened felldrake before it throws them completely clear. They crash across the ground, scrambling to their feet before rushing away in horror. Another orc, a commander with a very terrifying helm and flaming sword, backs up several paces. He can't seem to hold his troops together, and flees in frustrated anger. He can't find his orc chieftess, but swears on Gruumsh's name he will avenge her. He will kill whoever he needs to get her back.
****
@Aubrey Burmaster @Chantry Williams The orcs, fleeing from the fury and power of the terrifying Tempest.... now stop short. Their shouts of terror catch in their throats at the sight of this demonic dragonborn... deathly white scales. Hellish eyes. Black crackling fractures in his dry skin. Carrying not only the glaive covered in the blood of their brothers but also their own captain's axe. The same captain who's blood is staining your teeth and fangs red.
Fearing the worst, they turn and run.
You stalk forward after them, first at a walk, then at a run. Using your tail for balance you swing the glaive and the heavy axe through the air, cleaving foe after foe in spinning, downward thrusts.
Finally yanking the axe out of one unusually large orc, you look up. You've made it to where Alrik landed, seeing the electricity splinter across the ground around him in little tendrils. He looks shaken, overextended and spent among the carnage he was able to insure. But when your eyes meet... you both see the devotion for protecting this city, these people, in the eyes of the other. Despite your differences... a spark of shared honor.
@Jessica Rosemary Woodhouse Etny takes this time to head in the same direction as Oredion. She gathers up her bow and poleaxe, and runs. She takes off running toward where she last saw him heading.
Orcs and other abominable creatures stand in her way, but she fluidly cuts them down ululating and shouting several war cries in her native tongue to the All-Mother.
Hearing a grand explosive force slam into the battlefield with no mercy, Etny gasps in fright and surprise.
"By the All-Mother! What was that!" She takes a closer look, and sees that it's a strange draconic figure. Was it Atriox? Then the lightning and thunder rumbles and cracks, and she understands now who it is: Oros-Udunta!
Etny, invigorated and filled with hope at the coming of the storm mage, charges forward into the fracas with all her might, screaming a warcry as she goes.
Atriox nods at Alrik and continues slaughtering what Orcs remain using the rage he has at all his fallen men and Ironfist to keep up the assault.
Oredion roars to Tank in response and rushes the grotesque golem. He slams his shield into its legs making it drop to his deformed knees. He grabs Tank by the horns shoving him away roughly. He starts to run circles around it as fast he can throwing his axe and calling it back. Everytime he throws his axe and calls it back it rips through the golem slowly ripping it to shreds. The more speed he gains the more it looks like a green electric tornado surrounding the golem. Oredion lets his axe loose one last time and runs in front of the golem as his axe flys past the beasts head. He calls his axe back to him and it goes straight threw the golems middle returning to his hand. The golem falls to the ground lifeless. Oredion staggers a bit feeling his exhaustion finally catch up with him. He sees goblins in the woods running away and starts to slowly walk after them dragging his axe as he walks. The green light in his eyes starting to fade, but he continues on slowing down with every second.
Alrik looks about, noticing Atriox fully for the first time. He nods back and throws a fire bolt over his own shoulder, it smashing into an orc's face.
You four lead the final charge against the enemy. Many have routed, especially the goblins. Some orcs have surrendered, throwing down their arms and kneeling in defeat. The troops gather together again, the sounds of anguish and death still fresh on the field.
Alrik, you struggle to stand, the magic connecting you to the weave tingling over your body in an uncomfortable static. You're surprised at the lingering feeling and the shed scales all over the ground. Something definitely felt overdrawn tonight, but you knew you needed to do that. You had to. Donovan approaches you nervously, removing his helmet and giving you a friendly nod. There is definitely a battle-weary look in his eyes, one you remember from the desert. "Tempest," he teases, knowing you don't like the title so much. He looks around at the crater in surprise, then back to you. The irritation flowing over your body is distracting and strange. You look around, wondering where Fenris and the others are.
Atriox, the bloodlust slowly leaves your mind, your expression returning somewhat to normal. You flick residual blood from your snout. Looking around the field, you feel a sense of pride and of loss. For how much was saved, many good lives were sacrificed. You see Ironfist being carted away by a few orc healers from the temple, unsure if he's still alive or not after the hit he took... Kobolds pick through their bretheren, looking for those still alive to help. Tak is carrying Vele on his back, trying to get her to the healers at the edge of the field. Tank carries Zeed under one arm and Nathaniel under another, both unmoving. The minotaur's face is stony and serious, something you don't usually see with him.
Etny, you leap over fallen soldier after soldier. It felt so odd here being among strangers, fighting in a war that doesn't involve you. Does it? You pushed past the thoughts--the memories--of your family. Of your fallen friends in your youth. Seeing kobolds slinking about among the bodies unnerves you. Their eyes leer up at you, but mostly with... sadness? Relief? You're not sure. But... you finally make it to Oredion. Or at least as close as you dare. You see him kneeling, breathing heavily as he leans on his axe.
Oredion, you find you have shrunken, almost like a dwarf again wearing an oversized bear skin. It flakes away into tendrils of green smoke, leaving you utterly exhausted. Your body trembles, covered in a thick, cold sweat. You aren't even really sure what happened to you. Joey slips out of your beard, sniffing and licking your nose and cheek with his flicking tongue. He flutters in dark colors, scared and nervous for you. What took over your mind? You're covered in blood, the taste of gore in your mouth. It makes you sick and you wretch.
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