[WFRP] Hunters of Hexensnacht IC

[-Sentinel-]

The ghoul shrank back in fear and pain as Magnus' sword left a deep slash across its left arm. Its blood was such a deep red as to seem almost black. Albrecht briefly stopped at the sound of combat, looked over his shoulder, then kept going at a quicker pace; he did not seem to think it was his problem. He had his own life to save.

Shrieking, the ghoul launched itself at Magnus with vengeful savagery and clawed at him.

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Fast attack against Magnus.

Target 32: (d100)[10]
Damage: (d10+3)[8] (Roll Toughness at -10 or suffer 2 more wounds.)

Target 32: (d100)[59]
Damage: (d10+3)[13] (Whew. Lucky you.)

Forgot the ghoul had the Frightening talent, but I'm going to ignore it since you're two against one.

Magnus dodged the first attack, the deep snow making his movements clumsy, but was slashed across the cheek by the second. Instantly he felt the poison burn through his skin.

[-Sentinel-]

Magnus stumbled under the poison's burning pain and felt his strength begin to leave him. In desperation he lashed out at the ghoul with his sword, but his blow was weak and only bounced off the creature's kneecap, barely even piercing the skin.

Bernhard gritted his teeth; his love of good food had brought him to Sylvania in the first place, but he refused to become food himself. He was no great warrior, but his juicy meat would cost dearly to anyone or anything who wanted a bite. His shortsword bared, he launched himself at his opponent and slashed it across the chest.

The ghoul took a step back, more surprised than in pain. There was... not quite fear, but uncertainty in its eyes. Meals were not supposed to fight back! It clawed tentatively at Bernhard, but missed the nimble halfling.

[Thragka]

Gritting his teeth against the fire in his chest , Bernhard nearly stumbled - the pain subsided when he bent over, and it would have been oh so easy to kneel down, curl up and shut his eyes - but not yet.

A Fieldwarden protects the hearth and home, for the night is dark and full of terrors.

The halfling lashed out blindly, but his blade came nowhere near the ghoul.

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Another all out attack.
Effective WS 45: (1d100)[70]
Damage: (1d10+2)[4]

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

His side is burning, the venom from the dead thing's claws working deeper into his system. If he doesn't take it to pieces now, he'll have precious little strength left to fight with. And then he'll be only so much carrion in the snow.

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All-out attack:(1d100)[28] vs 51 (+10 if outnumbering bonus applies)
Damage: (1d10)[10]+2

[-Sentinel-]

Magnus' sword tore deep through the ghoul's thigh and opened an artery. The creature collapsed with a pitiful shriek, torrents of blood staining the snow under it. It was dead in seconds.

[Thragka]

Bernhard stood motionless, panting raggedly for a few seconds. Then he dropped to his knees, shortsword slipping from his grip as his fingers loosened. He gave a long rough sigh, half-cough and half-moan, blinking slowly as he gulped down the cold winter air.

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

Magnus continues chopping. He's had heard stories of things like this getting back up, even after the body has cooled and the last thread of life run down its neck into the snow. Working mechanically, he separates limbs from body, torso from head until at last, exhausted, he leans gasping over the hilt of his blade in the slurried red snow.

"We have....to keep moving. The peasant left tracks. We'll walk in them. If you can't keep up, I'll carry you."

[Thragka]

Bernhard grunted again, swaying slightly as he reached for his sword and slid it back into its leather scabbard. He was too tired to be actively insulted at Magnus's offer, but he'd be damned if he accepted it.

"C'n do it," he muttered, rising slowly and following the human.

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Follow trail against Int 40, minus any fatigue penalties. (1d100)[16]

[-Sentinel-]

OOC:

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Tracks in the snow are very easy to see, so no Follow Trail test is necessary. To walk inside the tracks to fool the vampires, though, would require slowing your pace considerably.

Hurrying, Magnus and Bernhard managed to catch up with Albrecht. The young woodsman sighed unhappily, but did not object.

"Might as well explain where I'm going," he said as he walked. "There used to be a monastery of Morrite monks on this side of the river. It was put there after the Vampire Wars to appease the dead and make sure they didn't come back. At the time, they thought the entire Eulesfurt line of von Carsteins had been killed at the Siege of Altdorf. But one of them, Theodore, came back twenty years later. He wasn't happy to see Morrites on his land. He sent a horde of zombies against the monastery, but they couldn't enter, as the stones themselves were blessed by Morr. So Theodore just sealed the gates and burned all the monks inside. There's still some ruins, though. I'm hoping Morr's protection is still there."

His tone, though, suggested that his hope was faint.

[Thragka]

Bernhard tried to shoot Magnus a frown, but was unsure whether the human caught it.

"You're hopin'?" he said, sounding exasperated - or possibly just exhausted. "Trudgin' through the bloody snow on a hope and a prayer ..." he continued, although whether to Albrecht or himself was unclear.

He grunted, and then winced as it sent a pang through his chest. "We may stick together yet. But if this monastery looks as useless as it sounds when we get there, I say we keep moving. Far as I'm concerned, our only hope is to get to the World's Edge. Like we planned," he finished sourly. Hours later, with half of the group lost or dead, a solid plan didn't seem like too much use any more.

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

"That's what we've been doing so far, right? Trudging through the snow on hope? We won't make it much further without a rest, and I can think of few places more fitting to hide from the dead than a temple consecrated to death."

[-Sentinel-]

"You don't have to follow me, halfling," said Albrecht, irritated. "But I'm pretty sure the vampires will be on us before we make it to the mountains. Our best hope is to hole up, not flee."

He squinted. "Ah. Look. The ruins are over there."

He pointed at a blackened, collapsed building rising from the snow some distance ahead. It had to be hundreds of years old; it was overgrown with trees. It sat in the middle of a broad open space with a gentle southwards slope. The remains of a low stone wall surrounded it.

They began the last stretch of their walk with a certain eagerness, as the wolves' howls were getting louder; they did not want to be caught in the open by a pack of hungry beasts. When Albrecht, Bernhard and Magnus were halfway to the monastery, the wolves fell silent. Even the wind seemed to calm down.

An overpowering sense of wrongness hit Bernhard. The halfling slowly turned. At the edge of the forest, right on their tracks, appeared the small shape of Steffan von Carstein — the lean, quiet one — mounted on his destrier. Albrecht and Magnus briefly stopped and followed Bernhard's gaze.

Without a silence almost as unnerving as the enthusiasm Sir Friedrich or Lady Elsa would no doubt have displayed, Steffan dug his spurs into his horse's flanks and broke into a gallop.

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Run! Run for your lives!

The low wall surrounding the monastery is 100 yards away. Steffan is 80 yards behind you.

To run, roll d10 + (M x 2). So with Movement 4, it's d10+8. Please roll it round by round.

Albrecht: (d10+8)[17]

[Thragka]

There was no time to argue. Bernhard ran.

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(1d10+10)[20]

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

Clutching his side and heaving ragged gasps of air, Magnus pelts through the snow, stumbling towards the ruins of the monastary.

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(1d10)[9]+10 to run the eff away

[-Sentinel-]

They stumbled gracelessly through the deep snow, fear giving them more strength than they thought they had in their exhausted bodies. Magnus and and Bernhard were quick to overtake Albrecht, who kept falling in his haste to reach the ruined monastery. His legs longer than the halfling's, Magnus found himself at the lead, Bernhard making a valiant effort to keep up despite his small size. The three of them just ran, without concern for the others. It was every man for himself. Whoever fell behind would be killed first, and heroism would not get anyone anywhere.

Thankfully, Steffan von Carstein's horse was having equal trouble advancing through the snow. The lean vampire pushed his mount harder and began to close the distance between himself and his quarry. Bernhard wasted a precious moment to look over his shoulder, and his loss of momentum sent him face-first into the snow. He got to his feet in a hurry, spat out a mouthful of snow and let out a gasp of fear when he saw the vampire less than fifty yards away. The undead lordling's blood-red lips were peeled into an ecstatic snarl as he rode. By then, Albrecht had caught up with Bernhard and was running alongside him. They traded a glance... then Bernhard redoubled his speed, leaving Albrecht behind once more.

The halfling's lungs burned and his heart threatened to burst. The vampire was damnably silent. Not even an evil cackle or a triumphant cry... There was no way to know how close he was without turning. For all he knew, he might be breathing down his neck by now. But the low wall surrounding the monastery was getting closer... Only a few yards left...

Already, Magnus was jumping the wall. And Steffan was less than fifty yards behind. The vampire had no weapon drawn, but raised his bare hand in a claw-like gesture...


OOC:

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See the rolls in the OOC thread.

The monastery itself is some twenty yards inside the stone wall. It has collapsed on itself; you cannot enter it, but you can climb the pile of fallen stones.

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

Magnus vaults the wall, hands scrabbling over the loose stones on top, and pitches into the snow on the other side. Dragging himself to his feet, he founders through the thick snow in the courtyard, making for the tumbled ruins of the monastery.

OOC:

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More running, or climb checks required?

[Thragka]

Earnestly hoping that the horse won't sprout wings, Bernhard sprinted after Magnus, heading for the high ground.

OOC:

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Ditto for me, climbing up the ruins if I can reach them.

No reason to suspect the monastery grounds are unsafe, after all ...

[-Sentinel-]

Bernhard easily jumped the stone wall, followed by Albrecht. Neither of them stopped there; they just ran for the pile of rubble that had once been the temple of Morr and began climbing.

Steffan slowed his mount, raised his hand towards the closest prey and uttered a single word. What language it was, Bernhard did not know, but its pronunciation gave him an unpleasant chill not unlike the sound of a sword scraping against stone.

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Magic Dart at Albrecht (he's the only one within range).

(2d10)[8][5](13)
Location: (d100)[45]
Damage: (d10+3)[13]

[-Sentinel-]

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Ouch. Let's call it Nagash's Fury.

WP test: (d100)[7] Confirmed.
(d10)[9] Ouch indeed.
(d10)[8]
(d10)[8]

Critical roll if needed: (d100)[80]

+7 crit to the left arm. Result #8.

A ripple of darkness passed through the night and Albrecht's left arm almost exploded in a spray of blood. The young man screamed in pain and stumbled, but kept running, his arm hanging uselessly by his side. He was bleeding heavily.

Steffan stopped his mount just before the stone wall, his brow creasing. He dismounted and walked slowly towards the wall as if it were the edge of a cliff. There was a wary, reluctant look on his face. Bernhard and Magnus, already climbing the rubble, glanced over their shoulders apprehensively; was Morr's magic still strong enough to keep the vampire out of the holy site?

Apparently not. Grimacing, Steffan swung a leg over the wall, then another. And he kept coming.

OOC:

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The rubble is steep and unstable. You can either climb it cautiously (you move d10 +M each round, no test required) or quickly (Scale Sheer Surface test, you move 2d10 +M if successful, danger of falling if you roll 95-00).

Since Bernhard and Magnus arrived early, they may have one round as a head start.

[Thragka]

"Oh bloody hellfire," moaned Bernhard, trying to remain calm as he slowly sought out handholds in the rubble.

OOC:

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Since my Strength is only 26 and I don't have Scale Sheer Surface, carefully it is! Bernhard climbs (1d10+5)[13] ... units.

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

Digging his fingers into the rubble, Magnus begins to clamber upwards.

OOC:

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Climbing safely. (1d10)[7]+5 for the head-start, and then (1d10)[9]+5 for the current round.

[-Sentinel-]

His face white as a sheet, Albrecht ran to the ruins and began climbing the pile of blackened rocks after Magnus and Bernhard. The young woodsman's movements were clumsy due to his useless arm, and he found it hard to keep his balance. He looked down, only to see Steffan catch up with him and lash out at him with his hand. With a gasp, Albrecht narrowly avoided the vampire's attack and continued his ascent.


OOC: Rolls in the OOC thread. Please roll again.

[Thragka]

One hand after the other, the halfling continued climbing over the rubble. As he made his slow way up after Magnus, he gave a look around the monastery grounds (as much as he could), keeping an eye out for anything at all that would be useful.

Prob'ly too much to ask f'r a pile of nice sharp stakes or a nice bed of garlic, though.

OOC:

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Climbing cautiously!
(1d10+5)[10]

[-Sentinel-]

Magnus and Bernhard were getting tired fast as they made their way through the steep ruins of the Morrite monastery. Their frozen fingers found it hard to get a firm grip on the rocks. At least they were doing much better than poor Albrecht, who still had the vampire right on his heels.

Steffan von Carstein lashed out at the young woodsman again and slashed him across the back with his claw-like fingernails, easily tearing through the leather jacket the boy wore. Albrecht whimpered and tried weakly to climb higher with the one useful arm he had left... but it was no use. The wolfish-faced young vampire was now at his level, and his red eyes burned with a terrible intensity as he raised his hand to strike again.


OOC: You may roll again.

[Kuma Da]

Magnus Holt

Magnus was unaware that he had been hoarding his strength, husbanding a secret reserve of willpower throughout the long, weary night of running. Now, with destruction at his heels and no escape in sight, hope gives way to a flood of desperate energy. His limbs come alive again, losing their leadenness as he forces his way up the crumbling slope.