lich ruler

[Methalor]

"No." Yorrick replied to the gnome.

Yorrick had never been the stoic, silent type. Well, not in his short memory, at least. He'd be the type to mouth off, get into fights like that one in the Hothmalor tavern. He'd been confrontational, rarely silent. His nature got him into trouble more often than not. And yet, over the course of the past few days, he'd been silent, rarely speaking, merely fighting. Aside from words shouted in the midst of battle, words that he inexplicably could not remember, he had barely spoken to his comrades. This was uncharacteristic of him, he knew that; or did he? He didn't know anymore.

The past night, the one in which Daiyasina had disappeared, he had not slept well. Dreams, nightmares, plagued him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was amongst the burning rubble of a small farmhouse, knelt over the corpses of a poor family caught in the crossfire of some war, tears mixing with the pool of blood before him. As he stood, he silently whispered a vow of revenge, to exact punishment on those who would commit such acts. He did not, however, notice the arrow hurtling towards him. As it pierced his chest, he cried out for the justice he would not be able to enact.

----

He stood in battle, greatsword whirling about in a frenzy of death, completely surrounded. Blood was split everywhere, the idyllic grassy field now awash with red. As his sword struck yet another attacker, he felt a spear pierce his ribs. A hot wave burned through him as he toppled, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth as he collapsed to the ground. As he felt his life slip away, his eyes welled up with tears. For some reason, he knew he had failed...Again. Metal flashed through the air, a sword careening towards his neck. He had no energy left to resist, and his last feeling was that of the metal biting into his neck, a finishing blow that no mortal man could survive.

---

He stood amongst the hot desert sun, falx in hand. He looked to his companions on the right; the Lightbringer, a divine presence beyond any, a goddess beyond any doubt, and his closest friend, a man named Neshi. To his left stood a celestial beauty, a firey red-haired woman who appeared as an elf, flickering eyes containing dancing flames betraying a less mortal background. His lover she was, a Firre subservant to the Lightbringer, Elyana by name.

It is said by some legends that a warrior can sense when his death is nigh, that a warrior can sense when a battle will be his last. He knew that he would die this day, that his was an inescapable fate, that he would die at the hands of the forces of darkness. But he did not feel this battle would be his last; he would fight many more, that much he knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yorrick walked forward, a slight, virtually undetectable, glow in his eyes. He drew his greatsword, pointing it at the hobgoblin spokesperson.

"To shed much blood would be pointless. No group would benefit from this. We would both suffer great loss, regardless of the victor. If what you say is true, then this would all be for naught."

Pausing for a minute, Yorrick continued, "Our intention here is to investigate a claimed threat to the people of Hothmalor and the surrounding area. If there is no such threat, then we have no business here. If there is a greater hand behind this situation, then we must learn this too."

"We shall not fight you pointlessly. To spill blood is not to be taken lightly, or done blindly. Masaw, is your kind honourable or merely destructive? I propose to thee a contest between champions. My blade against that of your chosen warrior. No trickery from either side, as befits an honourable duel. If I win, you must swear upon your honour to never again harm a settlement of innocents, if you indeed have done so in the past. You must also give us any information you have about darker movements in the region, of strange happenings and machinations. If you win, we shall leave this area immediately, no harm coming to your lands or people, proclaim our failure to Hothmalor, and serve to them any message you might send them."

"What say ye? Do you accept? We have no wish to fight and, if we are to, it should only be between champions, to prevent the spilling of blood. We are honourable folk, and I assume you to be the same. If we have been tricked by Hothmalor into a fool's errand, we must know this. If you are living off the innocents of this area, we must know this as well. Hear me well; we shall not allow you to leech off those who cannot defend themselves, if you indeed are doing that. We can settle this in a contest of skills between champions. But, if you are not, then we wish no quarrel with you, only information."

[wingover gimble]

*POP*
Chuck is takes off the top of a bottle of ale and takes a swig. He looks at martin and offers and after that he offers to neshi. Then he says,"Humans taking all the fun. Oh well i guess he can try we might as well "cheer him on" right martin? You say we can "Give him a hand" eh? Then chuck just watches the two and sees how this fight goes.

[Methalor]

Spoiler

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Sorry there, trying to prevent a TPK. I dunno, maybe I jumped the gun, but a whole bevvy of hobbos would probably be a little strong for us.

At least if Yorrick dies, it's not like he hasn't died before in other incarnations. He'll go on. Besides which, if either party is knocked out but not killed, it's not like we're going to go for a finishing blow. Still a chance of living.

Sorry that I stepped up as "Champion", but, in a no-magic fight, Yorrick'd probably be the best bet. Most HP, strongest attack, delayed damage ability... Against a skilled opponent, the attack bonus would probably be enough that good AC doesn't count for that much.

I wonder what the opponent will be... Hope they accept, but hobbos ARE Lawful Evil types; they should take honour and the such seriously, no? Even then, it saves them a lot of hassle to just have a duel of champions, since they'd have to lose a whole lot of guys before they could ever hope to take us down.

[de-trick]

We have been raiding farms to show Hothmalor what its like

Very well If want a duel you shall have the dual, but the rules of dueling dictates I shall set the rules since you set up the dual and the winnings, I choose to battle in the arena we will have an hour to prepare, no magic or no harm will come will come to you or your allies, By the way I'm Emperor Korkash

If you accept you are lead into the cave and lead to a very nice room almost noble like theres wine and food there

[Methalor]

"That is acceptable." Yorrick replied, not wasting any breath on longer formalities.

As he followed the hobgoblin contingent to the arena-cave, his mind began to race a bit. "What WAS all that?!" he thought, "And those dreams... They were more than dreams. They were real. And that Neshi; that Neshi was there... I should ask him. Now, I should ask him now; I can't have these thoughts plaguing me while I try to prepare."

As he walked, Yorrick began to rotate his shoulders, attempting to loosen them up a bit. His best chance was to strike hard and true, he knew that. Against a skilled opponent, his mundane armor would mean little; he'd need to absorb the punishment and keep on going. It was a gamble, this duel; he had no certainty about his chances.

As they reached the cave, he took Neshi aside, leaving Chuck and Martin to... do whatever they needed to do. The little spellslinger halfling was becoming bolder, more confident, more powerful; Yorrick had no worries about his wellbeing. Chuck... He might get himself into trouble, but time could not be spent worrying about such things.

"Neshi. I don't want to worry the others, but I'm sure they can already tell. I have no real confidence in my chances, friend. I'm still not quite sure who their champion will be. But I cannot cheat and ask for any more divine grace than has already been bestowed upon me."

"Should my opponent topple, I want you to use the blessed might of Horus-Re to heal his wounds as best you can. Perhaps we will take such a grievous blow that we will die, but I'll have to chance that. Even these Masaw have honour and can respect strong warriors; and there is no greater strength than showing mercy to a vanquished opponent. Perhaps the blow would outright kill him, but, if there is a chance of survival, I want you to save him."

Unthinkingly, not even realizing what he was saying, Yorrick spoke in a slightly different tone, "These are not quite like the Masaw we fought so long ago."

Yorrick continued, not even noticing the bizarre nature of his previous words, "If I should fall... Save me if you can, but shed no tears if you cannot. I... have a feeling that death holds little in the way of rest for me. Somehow... I don't think I'm able to rest yet. I'm not quite sure. I remember nothing further than a year back. I have no history, no past, no memories of good or ill. Yet, somehow, I know there's unfinished business for me."

"I must go prepare myself now, but I have one more question to ask of you. No, I don't wish an answer now, I don't want to burden my mind with thoughts when I should be fighting. But, answer me when I speak to you again, after this duel is won or lost; who is the Lightbringer? And... and what do you know of a firey-haired woman, with a form like an elf but eyes of pure flame. Elyana... Yes, Elyana. No, this was a silly question to ask; forgive me, my dreams of late plague me."

"I must prepare now. Neshi, keep vigilant. If they seek to use trickery, do not end the fight. We must fight fairly, even if they do not. Keep well, friend."

With that, Yorrick walked into the arena. Time was still left to prepare, but he preferred to do so on the field of battle. Forgetting all prior thoughts, he cleared his mind, entering into a trancelike state as he reached inside, seeking inspiration for the duel ahead.

Spoiler

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First Maneuver: (1d5)[4]
Second Maneuver: (1d4)[4]

Hm... Vanguard Strike and Charging Minotaur. I'm not quite sure how useful these are gonna be.

[de-trick]

2 goblins come out with a greatsword and give it to you

+1 merciful greatsword

[wingover gimble]

Chuck watches as two goblins start to advance.
Oh no. He didnt say what kind of weapons we were using for the dual. oh well lets hope these people are trust worthy and they dont try to give him a faulty weapon. Neshi we never agreed or even comprimised on the dual and he doesnt have a second to watch to see if the enemies are cheating in any magical way or such! We never even chose the weapon of choice believe me we should have done this stuff before hand or else anything could happen!! Also we need to pick the rules of the dual because that means he can even use poison or cursed weapons or magical altered weapons on yorrick!!!!!!! Quick before the dual starts!! Chuck looking very worried and is trying to push neshi along to tell everyone .

[Methalor]

Yorrick was slightly surprised when the little goblins came out carrying a greatsword - he'd expected to use his own weapon in the battle. Nonetheless, he accepted it graciously, bowing his head to the little creatures and thanking them as he took the sword from them. There was an electrifying, magical feeling to the sword, but also a dampened, kind edge to it. Yorrick was not sure, but the weapon seemed to be magically enchanted to not cause grievous harm to his opponent.

"It is good to see my faith was not misplaced..." he thought. To him, it seemed that this, indeed, would be a contest of skill rather than a fight to the death.

He stood up, swinging the sword around in a small pattern. Small circles, sword dancing through the air, blade singing as it moved. The feeling of the blade was good; almost certainly magical. He lowered the sword to his side, now only awaiting his opponent.

Spoiler

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By the way, if it's allowed, when my opponent enters I'd like to engage in a "duel of wills" (use of Intimidate from ToB) with them. If that's okay. If not, no worries.

(OOC Note: Yorrick is totally oblivious to Chuck and Neshi by this point. So, do what you guys will, although Neshi should keep in mind Yorrick's instructions. The merciful weapon is actually good, though - nonlethal damage is fine by me, and it adds a +1d6 worth.)

[ByeLindgren]

"He is quite brave. I wonder if he thought of what will happen if he loses. I doubt he even knows what will happen if we win."

Surely, I do not.

He turns to Yorrick. He attributes so much honor to creatures who rightfully demand blood. I hope his beliefs are well-placed.

[de-trick]

Drums beat thump thump thump and the crowd of goblins, bugbears and hobgoblins cheer

Then the hobgoblin Korkash comes out

all hail Emperor Korkash

he brings out a bastard sword

shall we begain

the dual of wills
(1d20+10)[24]

then initative
(1d20+3)[9]

[Methalor]

Spoiler

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Intimidate: (1d20+6)[8]
Initiative: (1d20+1)[21]

Yorrick seemed inexplicably shaken by his opponent. The emperor would be tough, that much was certain... The intimidating presence that the hobgoblin wielded was overpowering, but not to the point where Yorrick would ever cower or submit. Steeling his resolve, he prepared himself, making ready to attack.

"Our duel, then!" he shouted.

[Methalor]

Spoiler

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Lost duel of wills. (-1 attack and damage)

Sword adds +1 to attack, +1 to damage, +1d6 damage.

Yorrick charges forward as a full round action. (+2 attack, -2 AC)

Power attack (-1 BAB, +2 damage)

Attack Roll: (1d20+10)[22]
Threat Roll: (1d20+10)[27]
Damage Roll: (3d6+10)[22]

As the duel commenced, Yorrick took the initiative. He charged forward at the hobgoblin, newly-acquired sword flashing through the air. As he came up towards his opponent, he brought it down in a wicked arc, striking the creature where it stood. Yorrick fell back a step, waiting for the inevitable counterattack, bracing himself against it.

[de-trick]

you hit hard
48-22=26


then he attacks his sword faster than it looks

(1d20+10)[24]

(1d10+6)[11]

[/roll]1d20+4[/roll]
(1d10+6)[8]

[de-trick]

stuff, stuff, stuff
screwed up rolling


(1d20+4)[11]

[Methalor]

Spoiler

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Yorrick's status: 45-6=39 HP left + 5 in delayed damage pool that will be added to Yorrick's status afterwards.

As he has 5 damage in his Steely Resolve pool, Yorrick gets a +1 to attack and damage from Furious Counterstrike.

Yorrick now attacks the fellow again:

Attack Roll: (1d20+10)[29]
Threat Roll: (1d20+10)[30]
Damage Roll: (3d6+9)[18]


CRITICAL (actually, a 19 and a 20. Weird.)

36 damage (nonlethal, of course, as I've been using the Merciful +1d6 damage)

Wow, I just realized I forgot to do my maneuver rolls. If this isn't over, I'll need to do two of 'em in my next post... But I think it is?

Korkash's first attack came out of nowhere, stunning Yorrick. As the hobgoblin's strange "sword-and-a-half" bit into Yorrick's flesh, pain swelled through his body momentarily. Shrugging it off, he snapped to attention just in time to feel and hear the crunch of a second attack impacting into his armor. The hobgoblin was fast! Two attacks in the time it took Yorrick to make one; this was a warrior of more skill than Yorrick, that much was certain. He'd need to end this quickly. He'd need to match the hobgoblin's speed with a single, well-aimed strike.

Adrenaline surged through his body as he shrugged off the earlier hit. It energized him, sharpening his sense and speeding up his reactions. His eyes were drawn to the hobgoblin's flank; an opening in his defense? He could strike the vitals well, there, and perhaps fell his opponent in that coveted single strike.

Power surged to his arms and battle-memories of some time long past took over. He'd spotted the opening; it was too late for Korkash to defend. He swung at the flank, massive sword contacting with armor, a powerful blow to be sure. Yorrick's heart surged with the strike - it was true! There was no doubt there.

He had no time to revel in his hit, though, and he quickly reassumed a combat stance, waiting to see what the hobgoblin would do.

[Miraqariftsky]

Solemn and grave, Neshi lifts his eyes from the dust and his face from the ground. He shakes his head slowly at the gnome and replies, "A duel of honor is not something to be taken lightly. They damn their eternal souls if they dare to violate the terms"

But then, remembering the Masaws' treacherous assault some nights past and the subterfuge of these ancient foes of men, his eyes narrow and his knuckles crack over his bronze pommel.

He bares his teeth in a savage grin. I'll be damned if we are caught unprepared for treachery, yet doubly damned if we are the ones to initiate the travesty... Neshi bends down and whispers to Chuck, "Be discreet. Tell the others to beware the bread and wine. Make ready for battle but make it not seem that we are. If things turn foul, we shall indeed have tocut our way through"

[de-trick]

a lone hobgoblin comes out and goes to the fallen leader and heals the leader He bounces up he looks like that he will attack then drops his sword and it gets stuck in the ground

HA, HA, HA very well we shall not attack Hothmalor unless provoked to

He reaches out to shack your hand

[Miraqariftsky]

What?! It's over that quickly? Horakhe be praised... Neshi's eyes bug out in near disbelief at the easy victory.

Recovering himself, he flourishes his blade at the Masaw emperor. With the brazen blade scintillating in the twilight sun, Neshi shouts his congratulations to both victor and vanquished, "Kra Lhesh Korkash! Ja ai'der sharaat'a Korkash'i! Gul sharaat Yorrick'ar Trox-n'eba ai'der kra Korkash'i! Je var'kesh Ra! Kra Lhesh Korkash, lhesh sharaat'a, kra Yorrick'ar dur verk'un!"

"Hail Emperor Korkash! May the blades of his house be ever sharp and may his dominions prosper! The blade of Yorrick Demonsbane stands with thee! Blessings of Ra be upon ye all! All hail Emperor Korkash, lord of blades! Hail Yorrick the victor of the field!"

Having finished the ritual salutations, he sheathes his sword and jumps across the final bleachers, into the sandy pit of the arena. He lays his hand in the flesh wound of his comrade.

The Masaw bastard sword was well-forged from black steel and the skill behind the sinew was more than he had seen in his long years of warfare. The blade had cut deep into his friend's leg, lopping off a good portion of the left calf.

Neshi tears away the greave and puts his hand into the gash. The free-flowing blood gushes over his gauntlet and he winces at the bloody heat. Feeling around, he acertains the spots of the torn muscle and ripped tendons. He closes his eyes in concentration and prays, "Horus-Re, Lord of Victory, we thank you for your aid in battle. Falcon-father, king of noontide, I beseech thee, heal thy champion's hurts"

((Cast one Cure Moderate Wounds. (2d8+3)[11]))

Neshi feels the flesh knitting beneath his fingers and bows low in thanks for the blessings of Horus. Getting up from the dirt, he hoists Yorrick up and smiles as he punches the champion on the shoulder. "Get thee on, comrade. Salute the emperor and let us be on with our business..."

[wingover gimble]

After the fight he hoops in joy.Goddamn yorrick you kicked him into the nine hells and back! Oh that is awsome too bad you weren't short then you could be in the guild.
He then goes to martin and says," Short-People-4-Life !!! he hands out his hand as a fist for martin to hit.

[ByeLindgren]

Wait, he... that quickly... And the monsters didn't turn on us... Wow.

Martin looks at Chuck and raises an eyebrow. His hand slowly rises to lightly tap Chuck's fist.

"I suppose I lost hope far too quickly there. Great work, Yorrick." Martin tries very hard to smile at such a great turn of events, but his demeanor exudes an extreme sense of bewilderment.

[wingover gimble]

chuck looks around after the celebration. Well uh umm do we go now to tell the people about the non-agression treaty before the townsfolk do something hasty. We should get going.

[de-trick]

Before you go the hobgoblin leader gives you each a gift

Yorick the +1 merciful greatsword
Neshi a + 1 mitral breastplate(if you have better armor tell me)
Martin a +2 ring of protection
Chuck bracers of armor +2

Theses are gifts of peace yoridk I bow to thee, I almost forgot, take this too

his sword he used
+3 mericful speed bastard sword

Give it to the leader of Hothmalor to show that I mean no harm to him or his people

[ByeLindgren]

Never did I think a hobgoblin would give a reward such as this to me freely. Martin bows in gratitude to his very honorable host before walking out of the cave.

"Chuck is right. We should hurry to Hothmalor in order to secure the peace."

[Methalor]

(Let's just assume Yorrick shook the guy's hand and all that; I can't write a big long post right now.)

"Thank you most graciously, Emperor Korkash. You are truly honourable, and we know that you will hold to your word; I am glad this could be settled without bloodshed, and hope that, if our paths cross again, it shall be peaceful and friendly."

"We must leave now, to Hothmalor, to secure their end of the bargain. Rest assured, we will hold to the same standard of honour that you have exemplified. But, before we leave, I must ask you one thing. What know ye of Malindor and of darker movements in the region? We trust you and your people, but we have heard rumours of an unsavory nature. Before we leave, we graciously ask for any information you might provide us."

[de-trick]

Sages speak of Malindor, who united all the people of the of hothmalor, he had no kin to take over ruler ship, so he needed to live forever, so he studied to become a lich and rule forever, but since he had no spellcasting ability he was forced to wait 1000 years to come from the ground and rule again, he had 4 advisers that ruled the far corners of the realm, the first I believe comes from the sea of sands were it is hot year round, Im not sure where the other ones are. It's been awhile since I heard the story

(i think we forgot that farewell is the city)

[wingover gimble]

Well we should head back to town and tell them the news and collect our fees and then we should drink for a night and party then go to the sand monkey place! thanks for the bracers emperor but we gotta get going. Excelsior! just goes to the door and waits for the rest of the party finally excited for eating fresh eggs and bacon compared to these dull old rations.

[Miraqariftsky]

((Sooo, Farwell's the city and Hothmalor's the kingdom? Or the realm/continent?))

Do we truly have a binding treaty? I did not stand in in all of those eye-breaking diplomatic meetings only to know when to scowl and when not to...

The slightest hint of a frown tugs at the corners of Neshi's dark mouth. He gets up, withdraws a sheet of parchment, an expired spell-scroll from his pack. He straightens out its creases and holds it down on the rich ebony table with a spare goblet.

His nostrils flare as he draws his dagger across his palm. He presses down on the wound until the blood flows freely then holds the bleeding hand over the goblet.

Neshi waits until it is half-full with blood ((it's just a goblet, so do I lose 2 HP?)) then passes it over to Emperor Korkash. He swiftly closes the wound with a couple of prayers then bows to the Lhesh D'erak.

"Once more, I beg thy forgiveness and honor thy aid, great lord. I apologize for my comrades' erstwhileness and for my own lack of some proper ink. Just as a formality milord, shall we draft the treaty upon paper--- something that bureaucrats can at least relate with? Not that we distrust thy word or think thy gifts lacking--- on the contrary, your generosity is indeed a flood of blessings... but..."

Neshi pauses, searching for the proper terms, then continues. "... Contracts in blood do bind indeed, do they not?"

With that, he passes the goblet and dagger over to the lhesh and awaits his gracious approval of the proposed treaty and blood compact.

[de-trick]

You shall have my word and blood than

He cuts himself across the palm of his hand and lets the blood flow into the goblet

[Miraqariftsky]

Praise Horakhe, that was easier than I thought... for a moment there, methought he'd turn on us... Indeed, masaw honor seems to have grown through the ages that I had slept in stone...

Neshi watches the warlord bleed himself and then, when the goblet is near brimful with blood, he motions for him to stop. Swiftly, he prays over Korkash's hand to heal it, ((Cast 2 Cure Minor Wounds)) then takes the dagger once more.

With careful, deliberate strokes, and many muttered curses over his lack of dexterity, he begins to write. Time and again he dips the blade of the dagger into the goblet of blood and, with one hand gripping the other's wrist to steady his movements, the Daranak Korkash'i-Farwell of Hothmalor Non-Aggression Treaty slowly took shape.

Twilight, ____th year of the reign of Emperor Korkash
____th year of the counsel of Lord Vanridge

By the grace of the gods and by valor of champions, by blood of peacekeepers, henceforth, there is to be no strife, warfare whatsoever between the sovereign states of Hothmalor, capitolled at the fair city of Farwell and the Imperium of Korkash with its capitol at ____. May the wrath of a thousand years and the teeth of the Abyss devour those who violate this peace accord. May none them help who break their word, and may they ever be damned by ancestors and gods alike.

So swear we,
Emperor Korkash, ruler _____
Captain Neshi, ambassador _Zy'k_

Finally, Neshi straightens up from the table and sets aside the bloody dagger. He smiles ruefully at the lhesh and asks kindly, "I am a soldier and a priest, milord Korkash, but never was I a scribe nor a teacher of the law. Forgive the curtness of my contract. Now, if thou wilt but kindly affix the necessary information, the date, thy capitol and thy signature, we have an accord..."

((DONE!))

[de-trick]

He signs what ever you ask him and once the thready is signed you are leaving