Galandel Alone

Online roleplaying at the Café
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RocEter
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Post by RocEter »

Galandel moves towards the screams as fast as he can while pulling out a potion and drinks it.

1d8+1=5 HP recovered.
History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle and forgets the blood. What ever history remembers of me if it remembers me at all, it shall only be the fraction of the truth.
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ewancummins
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Post by ewancummins »

The sound of the screams is joined by other sounds: the rushing stream, creaking wheels, tramping feet and plodding hooves...

You crash through the bushes and emerge in the open near the stone bridge. The light of the stars and moon is much brighter here than it was under the trees.

Less than thirty feet away the ox-drawn wagon with the cage-full of captives rolls across the bridge. An escort of soldiers hangs about it- maybe a dozen or more armed elves. Most have their shields out, now. Several march near the back of the wagon, where any stray shot from you might accidentally strike one of the captives.

One of the soldiers spots you, and cries out to warn the others-

''Bandit!''
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.

-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
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RocEter
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Post by RocEter »

Galandel quickly fires an arrow at the driver of the Wagon.

Attack Roll1d20+9=21

Damage 1d8+1=9

OOC I will let you roll miss chance.
History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle and forgets the blood. What ever history remembers of me if it remembers me at all, it shall only be the fraction of the truth.
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ewancummins
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Post by ewancummins »

RocEter wrote:Galandel quickly fires an arrow at the driver of the Wagon.

Attack Roll1d20+9=21

Damage 1d8+1=9

OOC I will let you roll miss chance.
You arrow soars through the night air...


The driver tumbles from the buckboard, falling over the edge of the bridge and into the stream with a splash!


The oxen take a few more steps and then come to a stop, two thirds of the way across the bridge.


Just now, you hear a noise from behind you and feel a little slap of wind along your cheek...

WIZZZ-SWWWWHUP!

As your brain processes the sound as 'arrow' you become aware of a stinging sensation in the area of your left ear, and then of warm blood oozing down the side of your face!
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.

-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
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RocEter
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Post by RocEter »

Galandel whips around quickly turn his attention towards direction he heard the sound of the bow coming from.

Quickly fires two shots at the target with the bow, whom ever that may be.

First Attack 1d20+7=19

Damage 1d8+1=5

Second Shot 1d20+7=23

Damage 1d8+1=6

After firing both shots Galandel howls, like a wolf, at the moon. Just show all the others just how much of a crazy "Bandit" he really is. Hopefully Baelmus and maybe just maybe other wolves will join in on the howling.
History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle and forgets the blood. What ever history remembers of me if it remembers me at all, it shall only be the fraction of the truth.
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ewancummins
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Post by ewancummins »

You spin, firing as soon as you spot your enemy, who is close behind you. It's the elf officer. He's dropped his bow and is yanking his longsword free of the scabbard as he sprints towards you!

Your arrows graze him as he closes the gap, and then he's within arm's reach of you- swinging his sword!
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.

-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
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Post by RocEter »

Galandel drops the bow he is using and hastily pulls out his own longsword and meets the elf officers charge with his own.

Moving up to the officer he calls to Baelmus to assist him with his attack.

1d20+5=21 Attack Roll

Damage Roll 1d8+1=7
History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle and forgets the blood. What ever history remembers of me if it remembers me at all, it shall only be the fraction of the truth.
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Post by ewancummins »

Your blades meet with a resounding crash of steel-on-steel! Parry, thrust, swing- and the elf officer is suddenly reeling back, giving ground before your brutal onslaught.

AAAWOOOO

Baelmus calls from someplace behind the treeline, answering your battle howl.

You foe redoubles his efforts and manages to momentarily beat aside your sword for a riposte- but you easily sidestep his thrust. His angry sneer has now vanished; replaced by a cold, determined stare.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.

-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
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Post by RocEter »

Galandel returns the elf officer's stare with his own stare of steadfast determination.

He continues to engage the officer in melee combat with another parry, thrust and swing combo.

Attack Roll with the sword: 1d20+5=25

Damage: 3d8+3=18

OCC Do I have to roll to confirm Natural 20's or just critical threats?
History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle and forgets the blood. What ever history remembers of me if it remembers me at all, it shall only be the fraction of the truth.
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Post by ewancummins »

RocEter wrote:Galandel returns the elf officer's stare with his own stare of steadfast determination.

He continues to engage the officer in melee combat with another parry, thrust and swing combo.

Attack Roll with the sword: 1d20+5=25

Damage: 3d8+3=18

OCC Do I have to roll to confirm Natural 20's or just critical threats?


Your powerful swing bites deep into your foe's neck. Bright red blood spurts forth from the grievous wound. The elf captain drops his sword and clamps both hands to his injured neck, but to no avail. The flow of blood continues through his fingers, Blood bubbles through his nostrils and his mouth. He stumbles and falls to the ground.


A howl rips through the night...
AWOOOOOOOOO!
More howls answer it, from beneath the shadows of the trees.

Baelmus comes running from the trees, streaking toward you, a gray blur with a red mouth. In his wake runs a pack of a half-dozen or more timber wolves.


The elves and men on the bridge cry out in alarm. Looking in that direction, you see their formation breaking up! They are taking flight, abandoning the wagonload of prisoners in their haste to escape across the bridge.











OOC- You needed to confirm that crit, yeah. Don't worry about that one- I rolled and confirmed for you. :wink:
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.

-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
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Post by RocEter »

Galandel lowers his sword and watches as Baelmus and the other wolves charge towards the elves and humans. A wave gratitude runs through is empathic link to his long time friend.

He cleans the blood off his sword on the elf officer's cloak, or any loosing clothing that isn't his, and sheathes it. He walks to where he dropped his bow, taking deep breathes as he does. The feeling of pain surges through out his body as he realizes he is still injured. It is easy to forget the pain when the blood is pumping fast and hot.

After retrieving his bow he walks back to the corpse of the officer and kneels beside him. He searches him for keys to the cage of the prisoners, and any other valuables he might have.

"Its a shame had the circumstances been different we may have been friends," he says to the dead officer " May you find peace in your eternal slumber cousin."

Once he has found the keys Galandel walks towards the wagon the hood of his cloak still up shadowing his face.
History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle and forgets the blood. What ever history remembers of me if it remembers me at all, it shall only be the fraction of the truth.
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Post by ewancummins »

The elf prisoners on back of the the wagon have ceased to cry for help. Now they wait calmly and quietly for you to reach the cage. Looking at them, you recognize most of them as family and friends. One of the females turns her head towards you as you draw near- and you find yourself looking directly into the emerald eyes of your wife.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.

-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
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Post by RocEter »

A wave of relief washes over him as he moves towards the cage. Lowering his hood he unlocks the cage and opens it.

Galandel stretches his gloved hand into the cage to start helping the others out of it. His expression is calm as he assists the others, he doesn't say much as he helps the others out of the cage, right now to him there are no words to express how he feels.

Through his empathic link he urges Baelmus to return, he wants to make sure he can come home safely too.
History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle and forgets the blood. What ever history remembers of me if it remembers me at all, it shall only be the fraction of the truth.
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Post by ewancummins »

Your wife approaches you after the last of the captives is free from the cage. She says nothing but simply touches your injured ear and gives a sad little smile.


''The tip is gone.''
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.

-from Moby Dick (Hermann Melville)
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Post by RocEter »

Galandel moves his hand over her hand.

" A small price to pay to see my wife, family and friends free.
History prefers legends to men. It prefers nobility to brutality, soaring speeches to quiet deeds. History remembers the battle and forgets the blood. What ever history remembers of me if it remembers me at all, it shall only be the fraction of the truth.
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