WHFRP 2e - The Winter Kings (IC)

[Shadowflick]

Nicoli kneels down, his hands moving in a blur as he pulls out a powder horn and drops a ball down the barrel. The Speed at which he loads his weapon showing a practisced ease. Almost routine for him. This far north it would be hard to find anyone with such skill in re-arming his weapon. By the time the Reavers next to him finish there next attack, Nicoli is already prepared to fire again! "Pikes! The Knights! Attack the Kknights!" he shouts as her reloads!

Spoiler: Actions!

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Thanks to talents, Nicoli only takes a full action to reload his rifle!

And command..at -10. Oh boy
(1d100)[76] TN 18 COMMAND

[rax]

As the chaos of combat surrounds him, Lárus belches forth a cloud of paralysing gas, even as he makes a slashing attack at the wounded archer with his spear once, then follows up with a quick thrust.

Spoiler: Actions and mutations

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Lárus' Uncontrollable Belching mutation activates.
The cloud centres on Lárus and covers an area 6 yards in diameter. That should easily cover anyone in melee or otherwise adjacent to him. Anyone at the edge of the cloud (partially covered by the template, in game terms), may roll an Agility test to leap out of the way.

Gas effect (1d10)[3] = Paralysing (everyone except Lárus that breathes in the fumes must succeed on a Challenging (-10) Toughness test or become paralysed - unable to take actions - for 1d10 rounds)
Remains potent for (1d5)[2] rounds
Each round that it remains potent, the gas drifts 2 yards. I assume this happens at the end of each round, so next round, the gas cloud moves directly south from Lárus. Mucked up the code - roll is in OOC thread.

Full action: Swift attack with spear (1d100)[6] and (1d100)[84] vs. WS 50
(1d10+5)[8] and (1d10+5)[8] damage
Attempts to parry or dodge spear attacks are a -10

Ulric's Fury if applicable:
(1d100)[81] and (1d100)[32] vs. WS 50
(1d10+5)[7] and (1d10+5)[7] damage

Assuming Lárus is attacked, he will parry the first successful attack and then dodge if successfully attacked again:
(1d100)[82] vs. WS 60 (50+10 shield)
(1d100)[25] vs. Ag 26 (-10 due to mail armour)

Attack result summary:
1 successful attack hits the archer's head for 8 damage, no Ulric's Fury
Parry fails, dodge is successful if attacked and hit twice

Wounds (remaining/total): 11/11
Fortune Points (used/total): 0/3

[Haval]

Egil will take a swing at another of the archers. He didn't even need to kill them. Just hurt them enough so that they wouldn't be able to fight back. He will look for anyone who looks like they were in charge, but otherwise will try and dispatch the archers as quickly as possible. It wouldn't do to completely lose control here, but he will feel himself chuckling as he swings his sword.

Spoiler

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Full Action - All Out Attack with Greatsword (to maximise the chance of hitting something)

vs. WS 46 (+20 All Out)
(1d100)[50]

Damage 3 + 2d10 (pick highest) (+10 to dodge for enemies)
(2d10)[5][9](14)

12 damage on the head

Ulric's if needed vs. 66
(1d100)[47]
Any extra damage
(1d10)[1]

Intimidate test
vs. 31 (+10 Menacing)
(1d100)[78]

[Erulasto]

Reavers of the Red Song


Battle of Red Bear Hold, 15 Vorgenheim, 2501


Nicoli and Bjorni

All around Bjorni, the battle was fierce and bloody. The sandy docks beneath his feet was growing slick with blood as more and more of the Bretonnian men-at-arms fell to the reaping axes and blades of the reavers and Red Bear bondsmen. Above the clash of steel and cries of pain, the skald heard cries of For Gurand and For Winterscorn shouted by the Norscans as they continued to press in. With the wedge having broken through the initial line of halberdiers, Bodhi – flanked by the heaviest armoured members of the reavers – veered west and fell on the back ranks of the halberdiers.

It was a massacre. The Bretonnian’s front ranks were falling like chaff and even the bondsmen led by Astrid had begun to breach the wall of deadly polearms. Ahead, Bjorni saw more soldiers mustering a few dozen meters further into the village, now being reinforced by a number of knights on horseback who had ridden down from the fort. The apparent leader was shouting in a clear, foreign tongue that spoke of education and high culture. Around the knights, the halberdiers fell into a solid line while the archers continued to pepper the battlefield in arrows. With the front ranks crumbling, they seemed more at ease lobbing their arrows forward, less concerned about striking their allies.


The Norscans whom Nicoli had given basic instruction with the pikes followed through the breach, hoping to set themselves up with a line of attack on the knights when the inevitable charge came. So far, there was still too many ranks of Bretonnian men-at-arms between them, but it was only a matter of time before the Knights made their presence known on the battlefield in a more direct manner.

For the Kislevite himself, he swiftly re-loaded his rifle, powderhorn and shot effortlessly returning the weapon to a ready state as he eyed up another target. There were so many tempting targets. But with Nicoli hanging back in the rear, the press of his allies was leaving him out in the open and susceptible to enemy archers as well.

A single arrow, fletched with blue and white feathers, soared over the melee and towards Nicoli. But the cloud of flies that hung about him like a pall rose as one and swarmed around the arrow. When it fell, it seemed to have lost its momentum and barely left a scratch upon the Kislevite’s leg. The Crow Father was still watching out for this one…

Meanwhile, Bjorni was busy staving off the lone halberdier that had broken ranks to engage him. At their feet, the mail-clad footman finally stopped moving as his blood finally finished seeping out from his ragged wounds.
The halberdier roared a cry in the strangely flowery tongue of the Bretonnian’s, and thrust forward with his halberd, seeking to impale the skald but the blood-slick ground unmanned his balance, and his thrust was easily avoided. But the erratic motion of the man-at-arms caused Bjorni’s own strike to be easily deflected by the haft of his polearm.

Bjorni saw, ahead, that the forming ranks of halberdiers that the knights had been rallying were approaching readiness and very soon would be advancing to meet the Norscans. Their momentum was ramping up again, and there were scant handfuls of men-at-arms left holding that initital line against the reavers. But the ease of which they pressed through the disorganized first line would be lost.

Not for the first time did Nicoli and Bjorni hope the others were doing their best, because if they were unable to bring the other two teams to bear on the rear of these forces, superior skill or not, the Norscans would eventually be overrun.


Larus, Groktur and Morgul

With the halberdier down, Morgul and Larus were left with the two remaining archers of the small group that had been on look-out duty. Both were wide-eyed, and edging close to panic from the monstrous beastman with flailing limbs and the cold-eyed Norscan warrior with him. That the rest of their unit were being butchered by Ungor and Druchii was lost on them, their worlds shrinking to encompass only the fight or flight instinct that came with impending, bloody death.

Morgul was a raging storm of attacks, and even many veteran warriors would have been unable to stand against such fury. The archer was, miraculously, able to knock aside one of the bray-shaman’s axes with his short-bladed sword, but the impact was enough to drive his arm wide and open him up to the rest of Morgul’s assault. The bray-staff struck the archer’s arm just above the elbow and the bone snapped with a sickening sound that was like music to the beastman’s ears. The archer fell back from the force of the blow, cradling his crippled arm with his good hand and whimpering. He’d left his blade on the rocky hillside, and from the full-blown panic in his eyes, Morgul knew he’d break and run before being a threat to anyone else. If he didn’t finish him off here, it was likely the man wouldn’t survive the day with such a savagely broken arm.

The wounded archer was desperately trying to avoid death at the hands of Larus, but seemed unable to find either an opening to strike the Breathstealer, or to truly avoid the attacks being levelled at him. Suddenly, the noxious belch rumbled up from Larus’ stomach and a thick, oily green vapour spilled from his mouth and spreading rapidly around him. The two archers – both the one Morgul had crippled, and the one Larus had been battling – suddenly went rigid, gasping for breath that wouldn’t come. Only the frantic movement of their eyes gave any indication they had not been truly petrified.

Taking the opportunity, Larus lanced his spear into the archer’s gut. It dug deep, until Larus felt the tip of the spear wedge against the top of the man’s pelvis. Still, the man didn’t move a muscle. Only his eyes gave any indication of the pain and agony of such a low, gut-wound. The spear was ripped free, and Larus pushed the tip between two ribs on a whim. It wasn’t likely the archer would have survived the gut wound, but now there was no chance. As the second strike was drawn back, Larus saw the life flit from the man’s eyes, and yet the paralyzing gas kept him upright and immobile. It would be only moments before the gas wore off, but it was still an unnerving sight.

From around the side of the fort, they saw a number of soldiers – halberdiers mostly – who had been torn between rallying to the call-to-arms at the docks and maintaining their guard on the fort palisade. A few of them, however, had noticed the aftermath of the two archers brutal deaths and were shouting down the line. It seemed as if the unit of halberdiers was turning its attention towards the small group that had engaged from the forests edge.

Behind Larus and Morgul, Groktur led his Ungors in laying bloody waste to the rest of those rear-guards who had been loitering around the back of the fort. Those that the beastmen did not kill, were swiftly and effortlessly cut down by Lissakah and the Druchii.

When Morgul had given the command to press on, Lissakah and her sisters released giddy laughs filled with an almost child-like glee, before caterwauling and tumbling past the rest of the dying men. They were leaving the Ungors to clean up the remainder of them. Instead, they began to make their way towards the group of oncoming halberdiers.

They were vastly outnumbered, at least three or four to one. But Larus and Morgul had both seen what a single witch elf was capable of.

Soon, Eir the Fox was approaching, sending a pair of arrows into one of the halberdiers ahead.

“We’ve taken the rear of the fort now. Aside from this rabble…” Eir pointed at the oncoming halberdiers. “The majority of attention is held on the docks.”


Egil

While Egil had led a much smaller force up through the ravine than the unit of archers they had torn into, the archers were unsurprisingly unskilled in close-combat. Most of them had abandoned their shortbows, and instead drawn small arming swords to try and fend off their brutal assault. But not all.

Out of the corner of his eye, Egil caught Hrodgar stumble as an arrow sprouted from his right leg. One of the archers who had not given up his bow was taking potshots at any target he could find. Hrodgar responded by bull-rushing two others aside and planting his axe in the man’s forehead with a loud bellowing roar of defiance.

The man Egil had struck earlier with the tip of his greatsword was on the ground whimpering as a hand clutched at the deep rend in his skull that had split his eye from the rest of his body. Stepping over the downed man, Egil pressed forward and found another archer to slay.

He found what would be the Bretonnian equivalent of a sergeant. The man’s simple leather jacks were covered in the bright livery of the Bretonnian knights who commanded the occupation force. He appeared older, a bit more weathered, but certainly didn’t carry himself with the stature of a professional warrior. Much like the rest, he was a peasant playing at war.

The man, wide-eyed and on the edge of panic, lunged at Egil in an attempt to stab him with his short blade, but he had overestimated his reach, and Egil was ready. His greatsword swept down in a brutal stroke, and caught the sergeant well before he came within the reach of his own weapon. The greatsword hewed through the man’s neck like a woodsman’s axe through a cord of wood, and the body toppled upon the younger man with the missing eye.

Roaring, Egil thrust his gore-stained blade into the air, and there was a nervous shudder that ran through the off-kilter archers. A number of them turned to flee and were cut down by the reavers. Brand was wrenching his axe out of the side of a man’s skull, while Enbjorn was pummeling another to a ragged bloody pulp with his maces.

Their momentum had not faltered. Instead, it was growing apace, and the archers began to turn and flee before their relentless attack.

These conscripted warriors had no stomach for a true battle without the better equipped halberdiers, or even better, knights to back them up.

[Morovir]

Snarling at the halberdier, Groktur swings his spear in an overhead swipe, seeking to slay him as soon as possible so that he can move on to the next enemy. He does not bother to give the Ungors orders - they knew their task, and if they were worthy, they would not need his assistance.

Spoiler: Actions:

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All-Out Attack: (1d100)[57] TN 60 (WS 40 + 20 AOA)
FP Reroll: (1d100)[7]
Damage: (1d10+3)[11]

[Erulasto]

Groktur

There were few things as terrifying as a snarling, rampaging caprigor – and it was clear that the halberdier who faced Groktur certainly saw it that way. But knowing that he’d be cut down if he turned to flee, the halberdier thrust forward frantically with his halberd. The spike on the end of the polearm caught the Caprigor on the outside of his left thigh, scraping across flesh and drawing the beastman’s tainted blood.

It was barely a flesh wound for Groktur, but the sudden sting was enough to give his own attack extra fury and his spear ripped through leather and flesh as it split open the man’s stomach. He dropped his halberd and immediately began to try and hold his innards inside – to prevent them from spilling across the rocky hillside.

He was as good as dead, though the enticing smell of the man’s bloody flesh gave the beastman pause.

Spoiler: OOC

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Groktur takes, if my math is correct, 3 damage. I don’t recall if Groktur took any armour for his legs. If he did, then feel free to reduce the damage even further. I only counted the 5 from his TB.

[DrK]

Morgul

Looking back Morgul waved to Groktur "Press on. Red Song need herd to assist them. Manlings like maggots on meat, too many for Bodhi." He brays in triumph, a harsh and and loud wild sounds as he follows the witch elves down the wooded slope by the ramparts. "Kill, kill, Skulls for Gods" he chants loudly, trying to get the warriors in the keep to do something other than cower in their filth like their weak and pathetic leaders (one dying and one a drunk). Following Lissakah he barrels into the halberds at the end of the line, closest to fort. Stalking one and unleashing a more cautious barrage of attacks and waiting for Breathstealer and Groktur to keep pace and relying on the savage ungors to finish off the wounded archers.

Spoiler: Morgul

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Unsettling: -10% WS/BS until pass WP

To nearest Halberdier
Staff (1d100)[96] TN 45 dam (2d10)[9][7](16)+4
Axe (1d100)[80] TN 45 dam (1d10+5)[10](10)
Staff (1d100)[21] TN 45 dam (2d10)[3][7](10)+4

Parry with staff or shield (1d100)[62] TN 55
Dodge: (1d100)[58] TN 38

[rax]

Lárus smiles an unnerving smile at the dead archer before him, before turning his attention to Eir. "Then go - find a clear spot to cross the palisade and tell your Jarl that it's time for the Red Bear to show its teeth. We will finish this lot and then then engage those," he says, gesturing at the oncoming halberdiers. "It should be quite safe for Raskir to come out now," he continues with a sly smile.

With the poison vapours sliding down the slope behind him, Lárus then advances on one of the few halberdiers still fighting the ungors. His spear lances forward from behind an ungor - once, twice - seeking the lifeblood of the Bretonnian.

Spoiler: Actions

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No new gas until this round is over.

Full action: Swift attack with spear (1d100)[8] and (1d100)[60] vs. WS 50 or WS 60 (if +10 bonus from outnumbering is applicable)
(1d10+5)[14] and (1d10+5)[12] damage
Attempts to parry or dodge spear attacks are a -10

Ulric's Fury if applicable:
(1d100)[49] and (1d100)[24] vs. WS 50 or WS 60 (if +10 bonus from outnumbering is applicable)
(1d10+5)[9] and (1d10+5)[8] damage

Assuming Lárus is attacked, he will parry the first successful attack and then dodge if successfully attacked again:
(1d100)[51] vs. WS 60 (50+10 shield)
(1d100)[64] vs. Ag 26 (-10 due to mail armour)

Attack result summary:
If outnumbering isn't applicable:
1 successful attack for 14 damage to the body

If outnumbering is applicable:
2 successful attacks; 1 for 14 damage to the body, 1 for 12 damage to the head

1 successful parry

Wounds (remaining/total): 11/11
Fortune Points (used/total): 0/3

[neriractor]

The awkward melee between the Skald and halberdier continued, with the former anxiously wishing for one of the reavers to steal his kill if it meant he could pay attention to blocking the increasingly common arrows bolting pass him.

Spoiler

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aim and attack.
(1d100)[30] TN 50 (40+10 aim)
(1d10+3)[10]

Parry: (1d100)[51] TN 40

Results: 1 hit to the head for 10 damage.

[Shadowflick]

Nicoli watches as the Knights begin to make there way down the field, preparing there charge..and His pikeman are struggling to ake it to them. He is shook from his thinking as he notices the THunk! of a stray arrow that had been directed towards him, his flysactually managing to deflect it. If he remains on his perch in the back he would be dead meat for the archers, the only clear target for them. He dosent have enough time to get a good shot off just yet, but he cant wait long enough for it to show up. He props his rifle on his hooked blade, but has little time to truly prepare th shot. He lets the rifle crack, a fiery plume of smoke escaping the barrel as the bullet sreaks to teh the Horse of The Knight Leading the charge! He then takes his weapons in each hand and runs to follow the reavers, getting closer to the battle at hand. Hopefully, the reqavers might make good cover for himself! "Pikes! Keep there Knights at Bay!"

Spoiler: Rolls!

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Normal shot, No aiming but on Bardysh:
(1d100)[21] VS TN 46 at the Horse the Lead Knight is Riding
Damage: (1d10+4)[12] or (1d10+4)[10]
Ulrics Fury: Attack (1d100)[34] Damage: (1d10+4)[11] Or (1d10+4)[5]

Command!: (1d100)[91] vs 18

[Morovir]

Enraged by his wound, Groktur ignores Morgul's words, charging headlong into the nearest halberdier with a frenzied bellow, his spear arcing around as he goes.

Spoiler: Actions:

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Charge: (1d100)[54] TN 50 (WS 40 + 10 Charge)
FP Reroll: (1d100)[40]
Damage: (1d10+3)[5]

[Haval]

'Red Bear.' Now Egil will start making some noise as he continues to chop down anyone within reach. Still it was taking too long. Bellowing at any watching villagers, 'Get out here and kill something. If you don't answer to Gurand for it then you'll damn well answer to me.'

Spoiler

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Full Action - All Out Attack
Free Action - Intimidate the Bretonnians

vs. WS 46 (+20 All Out) (+10 Outnumbering bonus?)
(1d100)[86]

See ooc

Damage 3+2d10 (pick the highest, enemies get +10 to dodge or parry)
(2d10)[5][6](11)

Ulric's Fury if any
vs. 66 or 76 (1d100)[56]
Extra damage
(1d10)[7]

Intimidate vs. 31 (+10 for Menacing)
(1d100)[23]


Wounds: 11/11
Fortune: 1/3

[Erulasto]

Reavers of the Red Song

Battle for Red Bear Hold, 15 Vorgenheim, 2501


Bjorni and Nicoli

For all the chaos of battle around Bjorni, it didn’t appear that there would be many coming to his aide against the young halberdier. His swings were wild and verging on full-blown panic as he tried to skewer Bjorni on the end of his polearm again, but the skald was able to keep his shield interposed and ready to knock aside incoming blows with ease. But the frantic flailing of the halberdier was spoiling Bjorni’s own ability to land a blow – a thrust towards the young man’s head was averted by the haft of his polearm.

Despite the struggle against the halberdier, Bjorni saw with some measure of horror dawning, that the heavier ranks of men-at-arms were called to action by a number of booming commands. Their advance was not swift but it was implacable. But there came another howl of battle – this time, led by Astrid – and a call to arms for the Red Bear tribe. Bjorni realized, perhaps a bit belatedly, that the last of the men-at-arms who had been battling the reavers and bondsmen as part of the first line had been felled. He saw Astrid and Bodhi rallying near him, and suddenly there were reavers and bondmsen on either side of the skald – hewing and hacking and chopping. The young man he’d been facing took an axe to the shoulder, and cried out in pain, though he did not go down.

Behind the serried ranks of halberdiers moving to engage, the archers that had been mustering lobbed a high volley that fell in the oncoming Norscans now that they had no allies to hit. Next to Bjorni, the skald saw Bodhi take an arrow in the shoulder, slipping between chinks in her armour. But her ferocity didn’t seem overly blunted by the injury.

Further behind, Nicoli finished reloading his rifle and drew a bead on the heavily armoured knight that was leading the Bretonnian battle lines. Around him, arrows were falling with increasing frequency though perhaps through the luck of the Dark Gods themselves, none struck the Kislevite as he lined up his shot.

The retort of the rifle was deafening, and the effect almost immediate. While the destriers that the knights were riding wore simple leather barding and a steel chaffron under colourful cloth coverings, Nicoli’s shot struck the horse just ahead of its eye. The warhorse reared and staggered from the injury, throwing the knight from its back. The brightly-hued tabard disappeared behind the back ranks out of sight of both Nicoli and Bjorni. But from the frantic repositioning of the other mounted warriors, one could assume they were moving to protect the leader.

With resounding shouts, the reavers and bondsmen met the line of halberdiers in a furious clash of iron and steel.


Larus, Morgul and Groktur

There were scant few halberdiers left – the ungor and Druchii had done a fine job carving them up – and it was almost guaranteed that none would be left standing when they were done. Groktur had moved towards the nearest of them.

The brutal spear of the Caprigor caught the halberdier under the protection of his leather skullcap and rent a deep gash from jaw to brow. The man stumbled back from the relentless attack – his attention had been riveted to fending off the blows of Izur, who was sporting a thin line of blood along his chest from a grazing wound.

Nearby, the Breathstealer had advanced beyond the poisonous vapors that were expanding across the hill, and thrust his spear into the back of one of the men-at-arms. It caught him in the back of a thigh, ripping through his leathers with ease before being torn free. The second pierced the back of the man’s neck, grazing off his spine, and tearing through the front with gibbets of meat caught on the spears blade. The halberdier gurgled on the end of the spear, held aloft by Larus’ strength.

Eir had acknowledged Larus’ command to rally the bondsmen from within the fort, and she slipped around the fort to enter in one of the now undefended side passages. It wasn’t long before the sounds of massing troops could be heard sallying forth from the front of the Red Bear fort. It was time for some bloody vengeance to be heaped upon the Bretonnians.

Morgul and the Druchii made their way into the front ranks of the last remaining unit of halberdiers that were garrisoning the fort. Lissakah and her sisters fell upon the ranks, tumbling past the thrusting polearms and into tight-quarters combat where their serrated blades began to carve through the Bretonnians.

Falling on one of the halberdiers with furious abandon, Morgul’s assault was partly stymied by the hacking cuts of a number from the front rank, but the butt of his bray-staff caught one of them in the side of the head, staggering him from the force of the blow. The staff cracked bone, and one eye bulged from the impact as the man-at-arms fell, stunned.

At length, Larus and Groktur along with the Ungors had finished off the remaining halberdiers and were able to turn their attention to the group that Morgul and the Witch Elves had engaged.

It was then that the commanders caught sight of a crest of brilliant scarlet and black horse-hair upon the top of a full, steel helm at the rear of the ranks. Tall in body and broad of shouldered, the heavily-armoured figure in full-plate strode forward with a surcoat of red and black velvet fluttering about him as he hefted a wavy-bladed greatsword in gauntleted hands. He was flanked by four men in full-mail with colourful kite shields and well-crafted swords. They were pushing their way through the halberdiers, trying to make their way to the front lines of the skirmish.

Above the sounds of battle, Larus heard the knight speak. Though the man was clearly speaking in Bretonnian, the Breathstealer had an understanding of the tongue and caught the meaning clear as day.

“Form up and hold these savages at bay! Courage and fortitude, sons of the Grail! For the LADY!”


Egil

Egil’s demands for the Red Bear to stand and fight were mirrored across the battlefield by Astrid, and with some measure of glee the Norscan berserker saw the routing archers suddenly cut off by a rapidly growing crowd of villagers armed with pitchforks, simple hammers or picks, and spears. Unarmoured though they were, their rage was hot in their breasts and they met the fleeing archers with more savagery than skill.

With Egil and his reavers hot on their tails, the archers were going down far too swiftly to even keep some measure or tally. Egil himself found an older man with leathery skin and a few scars on his face. He seemed less panicked than the other archers – being a veteran – but seemed hesitant to strike at Egil.

Or so it initially seemed.

Instead of frantic, mad swings the archer lashed out with his short-blade with a more precise attack that caught Egil in the ribs. The mail shirt held, remaining intact, but the Norscan berserker felt the metal slam into his ribs and felt a crack from somewhere inside. Reeling, Egil brought his two-handed blade around in a wide upward arc that caught the man in the side of the head. The heavy steel of his greatsword lopped the archers head in twain, and a fountain of gore and brain-matter splattered across the battlefield.

Next to Egil, Sigrun laughed manically, whooping as she tore he axe free of another archer.

“Egil the Headsman! That’s what…three skulls for Kharneth so far?”

Between Egil’s fury and the relentless attacks of his companions, the archers had totally broken only to run headlong into a cluster of farm implements and other tools.

It took Egil a moment to realize that none were left alive. They had slain the entire unit of archers.

Ahead, he saw the massed ranks of halberdiers and archers having engaged the main forces of the Red Song. From their vantage point around the town, Egil and the others had a direct line of attack on either the rear flanks of more archers, or could lead an attack on the mounted knights who were rallying and commanding from the rear.

But now? Now Egil had more than a handful of reavers and bondsmen. Now he had a growing mass of armed – and angry – peasants that were howling and screaming for revenge.

Spoiler: OOC

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After reductions for armour (leather jack and mail shirt) and toughness, Egil takes 5 damage to his body from the archer.

Instead of making a new marker on the map to represent the peasants, I’m simply merging them with Egil’s unit.

For the ease of use, Egil’s ravine team now has an additional 60 peasants armed with spears, pitchforks or hammers and picks.

[Shadowflick]

Nicoli slides down onto his knee behind the line of warrior's, powder horn in his hand as he loads anothe rshot with trained skill. he keeps his eyes up, trying not to get hit by another stray arrow. The fight wass getting intense. If the Reavers couldnt keep there momentum and break through the lines, they may be finding themselves in a precarious situation. Nicoli managed to delay the charge for now...but, it wouldnt last. Hopefull the other teams would arrive soon.

Spoiler: Actions!

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Nicoli is going to reload as a full action!

[rax]

Glancing across the palisade at the Red Bear warriors emerging from the fort, Lárus calls out to them. "Raskir Red Bear! Press on! We can deal with this lot. Let the jaws of the Red Bear close on the invaders in the village!"

Catching sight of Eir the Fox among the emerging warriors, he points his spear at the halberdiers. "Eir! Use your bow and thin this herd for us!"

Seeing Sir Girart pressing forward through the ranks of his men, Lárus calls out to him in Bretonnian. "Girart de Lalier! You are losing this battle! Look - the Red Bear rises, our trap closes in on your men below! Stay here and fight us, and we will take their skulls for the Blood God. Try and save them, and we will run down this pitiful band before us and let the beasts of the North feed on their flesh. Surrender, and some of you may live to return to Bretonnia!"

Raising his spear in a salute, Lárus then charges the nearest halberdier, even as his gut begins to rumble worryingly...

Spoiler: Actions

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Lárus doesn't believe that Girart is prepared to admit defeat. His little speech is mostly trying to sap the morale of the halberdiers.
Intimidate test: (1d100)[61] vs. 21 = (Str 43 / 2); any chance of a situational bonus for all the killing we've done so far?

Gas!
The cloud centres on Lárus and covers an area 6 yards in diameter. That should easily cover anyone in melee or otherwise adjacent to him. Anyone at the edge of the cloud (partially covered by the template, in game terms), may roll an Agility test to leap out of the way.

Gas effect = Poisonous (everyone except Lárus that breathes in the fumes must succeed on a Challenging (-10) Toughness test or take a Damage 4 hit that ignores armour; Toughness test must be repeated every round a character remains in the cloud)
Gas remains potent for 2 rounds
Next round, gas drifts 2 yards directly to the left of Lárus

Full action: Charge with spear (1d100)[96] vs. WS 60 (50+10 from charge)
Spent Fortune Point in OOC thread to re-roll: (1d100)[22] vs. 60
Damage (1d10+5)[13] damage
Attempts to parry or dodge spear attacks are a -10

Ulric's Fury if applicable:
(1d100)[43] vs. WS 60
(1d10+5)[6] damage

Assuming Lárus is attacked, he will parry the first successful attack and then dodge if successfully attacked again:
(1d100)[93] vs. WS 60 (50+10 from shield)
(1d100)[17] vs. Ag 26 (-10 due to mail armour)

Attack result summary:
1 successful attack for 13 damage to right arm
1 successful dodge

Wounds (remaining/total): 11/11
Fortune Points (used/total): 1/3

[neriractor]

Bjorni brought down a massive swing against the weakened halberdier, almost completely ignoring the shifting battle lines, until he had to cover his head from the incoming arrows.

Spoiler: 1: Reavers kill the guy

Show

with his adversary swept by one of his allies The skald screamed in (very convincing) bloody rage "Charge!!" before doing so himself, taking care to not get too far ahead of the main reaver line. They were quite outgunned at range as proved by many arrows sticking out from their warriors, outnumbered or not, giving them time to shoot was not an option.

Spoiler: 2: reavers don't

Show

he goes for the last crushing slash that characterises norscans, sending a mighty cry as he pointed his bloodied axe to the halberdiers, the reavers were smart, they'll get the hint to charge

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I'm just going to assume since the reavers have such an initiative advantage on me and the halberdiers someone will kill him before I go, still putting two options just in case.

1: charge attack.
2: all-out attack.
(1d100)[28] TN (1: 50, 2: 60 + possible outnumbered bonus.)
(1d10+3)[9]
parry (only 1): (1d100)[100] TN 50 (40 +10 from defensive weapon)

1 hit, right leg for 9 damage, no matter wich goes.

charm to get everyone to charge against the sea of halberds, or at least close the gap that gives the archers such full range to shoot.

(1d100)[89] TN 52 (47 +5 amulet I'm never not going to wear.)

[Haval]

“Egil the Headsman! That’s what…three skulls for Kharneth so far?”

Egil will grin back at Sigrun, 'No need to stop there Little Axe' He'll try to shrug off his injury but that one hurt. Best be more careful.

More bellowing, 'Red Bear, your people and my people stand together at the docks. Let's go join them.' He will lead them towards the rear lines of the archers. This time he didn't even care if the Bretonnians heard him coming. Breaking their lines was now more important then killing them.

Spoiler

Show

Full Action - Charge

vs. WS 46 (Charge +10) (Surprise?) (If we outnumber the archers?)
(1d100)[15]

Damage 3+2d10 (Pick highest) (+10 to enemies attempts to parry and dodge)
(2d10)[10][1](11)

Ulric's if needed
(1d100)[82]
Any extra damage
(1d10)[10]

Intimidate if possible because he's probably covered in blood at this point
vs. Str 31 (Menacing +10)
(1d100)[79]

Wounds: 6
FP: 1/3

[Morovir]

Seeing the arrival of more Bretonnians, Groktur bellows at them, before seizing the dead Bretonnian at his feet and hacking its head off in a display of force. Casting the remnants aside, he charges once again into the halberdiers, drenched in blood and his lips drawn back in a feral rictus.

Spoiler: Actions:

Show

Intimidate: (1d100)[13] TN 46 (S 36 + 10 Menacing Talent)
Charge: (1d100)[17] TN 50 (WS 40 + 10 Charge)
Damage: (1d10+3)[5]

[DrK]

Morgul

Morgul let out a terrifying warcry as he battered another manling out the way. His hooves splashed with blood and gore from where he was stamping and grinding his hooves into the bodies at his feet. Looking about he saw the dark elves carving into the men and was gladdened as Groktur and his ungors were moving to reinforce. His eyes noticed the an in the plumed helmet, a grin on his face. "Dark Gods need blood, get that one" he bellows, gesturing with the staff at the bretonnian knight. Pushing through the melee he met on of the 4 heavily armed bodyguards, recognising a more worthy foe he gestured to the footman with his staff in an obvious challenge. His harsh accented Norse taunting the man. "Morgul eat heart of men. Morgul wear girl's skin like cloak" , the last with a nod of his horns to the keep hopting to enrage the footman.

Spoiler: Morgul

Show

Engaging one of the 4 footmen

Intimidate: (1d100)[1] TN 60 = VERY intimidating
Swift attack one of the 4 footmen
(1d100)[16] TN45 dam (2d10)[3][4](7)+4 = 8 to the body
(1d100)[15] TN45 dam (2d10)[4][7](11)+4 = 11 to the body
(1d100)[96] TN45 dam (2d10)[6][7](13)+4

Parry: (1d100)[62] TN45
Dodge: (1d100)[50] TN38

Conditions:
Unsettling (-10% WS/BS to hit me without a WP test), Blessing Dark Master
Soak 6 (body/legs/arms), 5 head

[Erulasto]

Reavers of the Red Song

The Battle for Red Bear Hold, 15th Vorgenheim, 2501


Nicoli, Bjorni and Egil

With a chorus of shouts and cheers so loud it deadened the sound of the battle, the tightly packed ranks of the Bretonnian men-at-arms thrust their halberds out before them and charged towards the swarming Norscan reavers. The small groups of archers behind them remained in a loose formation, and continued sending volley after volley towards their attackers rear ranks. The missile fire would lessen significantly once the halberdiers had engaged, but for the moment the falling arrows were still the most significant threat to the Norscans - and from what Nicoli could see from his vantage in the rear, the casualties among the Red Bears and the reavers were not insignificant.

On the front line of the battle, now pushed off the docks and into the village, Bjorni saw the charge of the halberdiers begin as he raised his shield to knock aside another thrust from the halberdier. The skald kept his defense up, waiting for an opening that would allow him to cut the Bretonnian down. But before he'd had a chance, the man's eyes went wide as he found the rime-encrusted blade of Bodhi's halberd slam down into the crook of his neck with such force it carved down into his ribs. The reaver-captain leaned in and kicked the man-at-arms in the back, knocking him forward while she levered her halberd free of his body.

"Getting tired, skald?" Bodhi said with a wolfish grin, giving her halberd a flourish that speckled the dirt at her feet with blood. "The day is not ours yet. Winterscorn! Forward! Forward for the glory of the Red Bear and skulls for the skull throne!"

At Bodhi's commands, the reavers broke into a mad dash towards the approaching Bretonnian line. Astrid and her bondsman were close behind, their great axes set to knock aside thrusting halberds.

Hefting his shield up, Bjorni followed the charge while keeping near Bodhi in the center of the Norscan line where those roaring behind him can see the Winterscorn banner leading them to war. When the lines clashed, it was with a thunderous impact that sent men sprawling into the blood-slick dirt on either side. Dodging the thrust of a halberdier, Bjorni saw the man go down with a great axe buried in his chest a moment later as he broke through the first rank and into the second with more reavers pouring into the gap. He saw a flash of flowing dark hair nearby, and saw Astrid was just down the line and fending off a furious assault by a tall man in a mail hauberk and breastplate under a simple blue tabard. A visored helm on his head, and a kite shield and longsword in hand, he was hammering both into Astrid's own shield. While Astrid was fierce and fast, the large knight-Errant was vastly stronger and she had been pushed back on the defensive.

Seeing a narrow path towards them through the chaos of the battle, Bjorni pushed his way through - blocking a blow here and there - until he was able to break into a run. Quickly closing the gap, Bjorni saw the knight step forward and hammer the edge of his shield through Astrid's defenses and catch her in the chest and making the Red Bear princess stagger back with a grimace.

The knight turned towards the skald as he lunged forward, stepping back and raising his kite shield to ward off Bjorni's thrust. The tip of his sword skittered off the steel shield with a small shower of sparks, and he managed to narrowly avoid the return stroke of the knight's own sword.

In the rear, now with a sizeable span between himself and the front line of combat, Nicoli finished loading his rifle and stood once more. Around him lay a handful of reavers, wounded or dead from arrows, and the bodies grew in number as he looked out towards the thick of battle ahead.

There were two more knights still on horseback, though they hadn't engaged yet. Nicoli thought he caught a glimpse of the knight whom he had shot off his horse between the two but it was hard to see past the chaos of the battle. A cheering roar from the west drew Nicoli's gaze, and the Kislevite saw Egil and his band scrambling into the flanks of the archers. With him, came the Red Bear peasants. Dozens and dozens of them, armed with simple wooden spears or pitchforks. A few bore smith's hammers or pick axes, but none were armoured.

They hit the rear ranks with a ferocity that could scarely believed. At their head, Egil and Sigrun were followed swiftly by the two Red Bear bondsmen - Brand and Enbjorn. They tore into the unprepared archers and the blood flew in buckets. The archers were screaming in pain and fear as arms and legs were lopped off by brutal strokes from an axe blade.

Egil charged the one who seemed like the commander, a man hefting a short sword above his head and trying to rally the panicking archers as they scrambled to save themselves from the onslaught. Egil srpinted towards him with wide, quick strides that carried him up onto a small pile of wooden boxes stacked near a bent fencepost. Pushing off at the height of his stride, Egil gripped the pommel of his greatsword in both hands as he soared towards the sergeant. As he fell towards the unaware man, the berzerker brought the heavy two-handed blade down in a powerful overhand swing. There was a moment where the sergeant finally turned to see the Norscan practically on top of him, like death falling from above. But he'd barely had any time to register the attack before Egil carved him in two from shoulder to hip. The body flopped towards the ground at Egil's feet, a fountain of gore spilled across the rough cobbled stone of the street.

As blood dripped from Egil's brow, splattered from his butchery, those archers who had not broken already recoiled in horror at the sight. Some dropped their weapons and fell to their knee's, pleading cries that Egil thought sounded a lot like begging for mercy rising above the sounds of battle. Others turned and ran, routing and seeking nothing more than saving their own skins. Egil heard the exhultation of the peasants around him as they vented their anger at the Bretonnian's as savagely as they could.

Meanwhile, on the far side of the battle, several tall banners from the Hold of the Jarl were sighted as the huskarl and survivors from the fort charged from the east after the siege was broken. While Raskir was not at the head, several of the Jarl's personal huskarl were in the lead as they led the men and women into the Bretonnian's rear ranks.


Larus, Groktur and Morgul

While Larus had called for Raskir Red Bear to lead his families warriors out of the hold, the tribal heir was not immediately visible in the mass of angry Norscans that burst from the great wooden doors that had now been unsealed.

Mjorni's huskarl were leading the charge, and they didn't stick around to help Larus or the others - instead, they rushed down the hill and into the rear flank of the Bretonnian's engaging the rest of their kin and the reavers in the village.

More pressing, however, was the threat at hand.

Eir was hanging back as much as she could, putting forth a staggering volume of arrows that seemed to whip past Morgul and Larus and into halberdiers who seemed to be about to launch an attack at one of them. There were far more men-at-arms than there was in this small raiding party - and the Ungors had not followed the charge yet.

Sir Girart pushed to the fore of the battle, greatsword held at the ready. The four footmen flanking him set their shield to prepare as the halberdiers swarmed around on either side. They were trying to encircle the Druchii, Mogrul and Larus.

"You defile the noble tongue of Bretonnia, Norscan dog!" Sir Girart said in Breton, before spitting on the ground and settling his visor into place. "We will not yield to savages, nor give up our blood and body for your Gods."

The Breathstealer charged into the line of halberdiers that sought to enclose upon him, when he felt the bubbling chaos in his gut. He put his spear into the right shoulder of one of the halberdiers, causing the man to drop his polearm and drop to his knee's screaming. Before Larus was able to wrench the spear free, he felt a monstrous belch rise and a moment later a hazy, reddish smoke began to spill from his mouth and swiftly fill the area around him. Immediately before him, three halberdiers fell to the ground gasping as their faces bloated and became red as blood burst in their eyes and from their tongues.

The footmen hung back, as did a number of the halberdiers as they tried to stay away from the red vapour that hung in the air around the Norscan. Morgul's bestial roaring and warcry was enough to draw their attention - moreso, they seemed terrified of the five-armed monstrosity that suddenly was barrelling towards them. They barely registered that a white-haired witch elf was hot on his heels at first.

Morgul ploughed into one of the footmen, driving the head of his bray-staff into the footman's gut with such force the beastman heard ribs snapping. As he staggered back, Morgul wound up and swung the bray-staff again that caught the footman in the same place on his chest with such force blood fountained from his lips and he fell to the ground, grasping at the ruined, bloody mess of shattered ribs and shredded lungs that spelled his doom.

Another footman stepped forward to engage, and lanced forward with his blade at the bray-shaman, but was unable to land a blow. The witch elf that had followed Morgul into the fray lashed out with viscious, viper-quick thrusts but each was knocked aside by the footman's shield. He stepped forward into the witch elf's space and tried to slam his shield into her face but she tumbled aside, grinning.

Just behind where Morgul and the witch elf - Erial - were battling a footman, Sir Girart had stepped forward with another of his footmen to engage Lissakah and one of her other, pale-haired sisters.

Then, the braying of Ungors rose as Groktur led the beastmen into the ranks of the halberdiers who had turned their backs on the rest of the enemy in order to encircle the dark elves, Morgul and Larus. They hit the line with such force; so hard that the front rank was knocked into Larus' poison cloud.

Groktur himself cast a bloody skull aside as he drove his spear directly through the knee of a halberdier before him. The wound was atrocious - with jagged bits of bone sticking out of the ruined flesh. The Caprigor's warcry seemed enough to unnerve some of the halberdiers, who wavered and seemed on the edge of breaking and running.

As if sensing the weakness, the last remaining footman hurried to engage Groktur and the ungor and to shore up the faltering line of halberdiers.

[neriractor]

The Skald mirrored Bodhi's smile, if a bit more playful "sometimes you wanna play with your food" and followed the charge.

as his axe bounced on the knights shield and he quickly dodged the thrust of his sword he smiled, it couldn't be more perfect, he'll save the red bear heir, show off his skill and get a nice shield out of it, the raven gifted him with one opportunity after the other.

he let out a calculated slash against the overextended knight, taking care to keep his measly wooden shield up.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

aim and attack:
(1d100)[90] TN 60 (40+ 10 aim + 10 outnembered)
(1d10+3)[5]

parry: (1d100)[49] TN 50 (40+ 10 defensive weapon)

[DrK]

Morgul

The shaman sways back, weapons and shields up to deflect the Footman's attacks as the nimble elf woman moves in. Seeing Lissakah engaging the knight he snarls, blocking another blow from the knight angry to be blocked by the footman. Swirling he moves to flank the armoured footman with the wild looking elf maiden, hearing screams he glances around and see's the cloud of red mist and men choking and screaming as their lungs and throats melt from the corrorive fumes. "Breathstealer! Gods bless you." he cackles across to the spear wielding norseman.

SPinning to the footman and timing his attacks with Eliath he tries to smash the stubborn human out of the way, waiting a moment until the man is distracted by Eliath to catch him unawares.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Fighting the footman (next turn I can reach the knight!!)
- I'll wait till Eliath has attacked and he's used up his parry/dodge

(1d100)[75] TN 55 (45+10 outnumber) dam (2d10)[5][1](6)+4
(1d100)[23] TN 55 (45+10 outnumber) dam (2d10)[9][6](15)+4 13 to Arm
(1d100)[10] TN 55 (45+10 outnumber) dam (2d10)[3][2](5)+4 7 to head

Parry: (1d100)[20] TN55 Well that's reassuring
Dodge: (1d100)[79] TN38

Conditions:
Unsettling (-10% WS/BS to hit me without a WP test), Blessing Dark Master
Soak 6 (body/legs/arms), 5 head

[rax]

Lárus drifts with the cloud of poison gas, taking care to remain close to its centre. Laughing at the terrified halberdiers, he continues to taunt them and their leader in Bretonnian. "You've come a long way to die, men of Bretonnia! Sir Girart says you fight for the Lady - I say she has no power here in the North. Keep fighting, and none of you will ever see home again. We will pile the town square high with your skulls in honour of Kharneth! But Sir Girart! I say to you - he will not be slain! We will release him! He shall be free to return home and lie about how sacrificing your lives was necessary. But your wives will still be widows, your children without fathers, while he lords it over his lands as if none this ever happened!"

Then, to drive the point home, Lárus presses the attack on the closest halberdier.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Intimidate test vs. halberdiers: (1d100)[76] vs. 21 = (Str 43 / 2)

Gas!
The cloud centres on Lárus and covers an area 6 yards in diameter. That should cover anyone in melee or otherwise adjacent to him. Anyone at the edge of the cloud (partially covered by the template, in game terms), may roll an Agility test to leap out of the way.

Gas effect = Poisonous (everyone except Lárus that breathes in the fumes must succeed on a Challenging (-10) Toughness test or take a Damage 4 hit that ignores armour; Toughness test must be repeated every round a character remains in the cloud)
Gas dissipates at the end of this round.

Half action: Move to engage the nearest halberdier. (I assume this is necessary since the Bretonnians are said to be hanging back)
Half action: Standard attack with spear (1d100)[62] vs. WS 50
Damage (1d10+5)[6] damage
Attempts to parry or dodge spear attacks are a -10

Ulric's Fury if applicable:
(1d100)[18] vs. WS 50
(1d10+5)[8] damage

Assuming Lárus is attacked, he will parry the first successful attack and then dodge if successfully attacked again:
(1d00)[1] vs. WS 60 (50+10 from shield)
(1d00)[1] vs. Ag 26 (-10 due to mail armour)

Attack result summary:
No successful attacks.
Aces parry and dodge.

Wounds (remaining/total): 11/11
Fortune Points (used/total): 1/3

[Haval]

As blood dripped from Egil's brow, splattered from his butchery, those archers who had not broken already recoiled in horror at the sight. Some dropped their weapons and fell to their knee's, pleading cries that Egil thought sounded a lot like begging for mercy rising above the sounds of battle. Others turned and ran, routing and seeking nothing more than saving their own skins.

Egil will laugh at the success of his own blow. 'Run.' He is shouting at the remaining Bretonnians in Norse and in Kislevan. Perhaps they would get the jist of it. 'You should never have come here. None of you will live to take word back to your country.' As much as it was possible to do in a melee he will try to keep an eye on Sigrun and the other Reavers in case anyone was in trouble. Otherwise he will attempt to press forward towards the more dangerous halbardiers facing Astrid.

Spoiler: All praise to the Lord of Murder

Show

Action depends on how broken the archers Egil is fighting are and whether he can move through them.

Half - Move towards the halbardiers
Half - Chop down any archers in passing
or
Half - Attack Archer
Half - Parrying Stance

vs. WS 46 (+Outnumbered?)
(1d100)[37]

Parry if I'm using it
vs. WS 46
(1d100)[36]

Damage 3+2d10 (pick highest, enemy is at +10 to dodge or parry)
(2d10)[8][2](10)

Ulric's for the attack if needed
vs. WS 46 (+Outnumbrered?)
(1d100)[46]

Intimidate vs. Str 31 (+10 Menacing)
(1d100)[50]

Wounds: 6
FP 1/3

[Shadowflick]

Spoiler: If Nicoli can Spot the Knight fighting Larus in the Back witht eh two Handed sword!

Show

Nicoli needed to make every one of his shots count for something. His weapon was not as fast as the Norscans bow's or Axe's, but still, It could blow holes right through the Bretonian's men. Thus, he needed to aim for the most Important target.

Who could be more important than there Commander. His massive intimidating blade swinging in wild arcs, in a vain atempt to strike at the Elves. he and his men outnumbered Larus's squad, starting to surround them with pikes. It would be deadly if they were to be truley surrounded. Thus, the Kislivite would serve the purpose of rescuer. He plants his rifle onto his hooked blade, leveling it as he took a deepbreath, shutting one eye. The din of the battle around him became almost silent. Just the ever present buzz and whispers of the fly, even his heart beating slowly. He presses the butt of his rifle to his cheek..and fires

Spoiler: If not!

Show

Nicoli needed to make every one of his shots count for something. His weapon was not as fast as the Norscans bow's or Axe's, but still, It could blow holes right through the Bretonian's men. Thus, he needed to aim for the most Important target.

The Knights had yet to move into combat, perhaps they were frightened that they would be mobed by the many Reavers now pouring in. With there leader on teh floor they might even be disorginized. Thus, Nicoli would take the advantage. He levels his rifle onto his Hooked blade and aims for one of the knights

He plants his rifle onto his hooked blade, leveling it as he took a deepbreath, shutting one eye. The din of the battle around him became almost silent. Just the ever present buzz and whispers of the fly, even his heart beating slowly. He presses the butt of his rifle to his cheek..and fires

Spoiler: Either Way, Fire away!

Show

(1d100)[23] VS 66
(1d10+4)[12] or (1d10+4)[13]

Ulric's Fury!
(1d100)[69] VS 66
(1d10+4)[14] or (1d10+4)[9]

[Morovir]

Pressing his advantage, Groktur swipes down at the unfortunate halberdier, bellowing along with his ungors as he does so.

Spoiler: Actions:

Show

All-Out Attack: (1d100)[45] TN 60 (WS 40 + 20 AOA)
Damage: (1d10+3)[9]

[Erulasto]

Reavers of the Red Song

Battle for Red Bear Hold, 15 Vorgenheim, 2501

Nicoli, Bjorni and Egil

The village echoed with the clash of steal and the voices of men hellbent on commiting violence against one another. It was loud, tumultuous and bloody. In the heart of the battle, Bodhi led a cluster of the most heavily armed among the reavers into the enemy line like a wedge. The length of the polearms was a problem to be certain - it gave the advantage of reach on the reavers - but the men and women of Norsca were ferocious and for every reaver that was felled, they had taken more than their fair share of Bretonnian's with them.

Despite the crumbling line of halberdiers, they still had the numbers. A few lucky strokes from the men-at-arms took down a number of the reavers and bondsmen closest to Bodhi, but the reaver-captain pressed on undaunted.

Nearby, Bjorni and Astrid were locked with one of the footmen in intense, brutal combat. Astrid seemed to be holding back somewhat, playing a more defensive game as she deftly kept her shield between the Bretonnian and her. Bjorni moved in when he saw an opening, swinging towards the footman's head, but the soldier threw himself back to avoid the blow. Pressing off his rear foot, he swung his long blade towards Bjorni's legs, but the skald was able to interpose his shield in time and catch the blade on the iron-capped wooden edge. Following up on his first blow, the footman spun towards Astrid - looking to hammer his blade down from on high. But she had already begun moving, and caught the footman in the arm with a swing of her sword. The return stroke caught him in the side of the head, causing him to stumble back.

To the west, the peasant archers had scattered, being routed so thoroughly they simply made a mad run for whatever part of the docks they could get to in relative safety. Keeping their momentum, Egil led the reavers on into the flanks of the bulk of halberdiers that had engaged Bodhi and the reavers. From here, Egil could see a knight whose scalloped full plate was covered in a tabard of sky-blue. The shield in hand was tall and intricately painted, while the blade he had just drawn bore a wide, thick crossguard. At his feet was a broken lance, and a destrier lay nearby, flanks heaving as blood poured from a bullet wound in its head.

A handful of other men in full-mail lingered nearby, trying to keep their bodies interposed between the Knight and any Norscans who had breeched the line. Egil saw Bodhi ducking and twirling as her halberd flashed around her in wide, spiralling arcs that left small flakes of snow in its rime-encrusted wake.

Egil saw a fairly direct path towards the group of knights from their position in the flanks of the Bretonnian forces as he cut down a man-at-arms ahead of him with a wide stroke. Around him, Brand and Sigrun were fighting closer to the knights while Enbjorn, Hrodgar and Gunnar were rallying the peasant mob as they rushed into the rear ranks of the halberdiers.

The Bretonnians on this flank were crumbling faster and faster, while the huskarl from the fort had begun their bloody work on the opposite flank though many were already wounded and wouldn't have the same staying power the reavers had.

Nicoli finished reloading his rifle, and took stock of the battle. It took him a few moments to find enough of a break in the fighting to see one of the knights. It wasn't the one whose horse had been shot, but one of his guards. The fool had only a leather skullcap on - apparently having forgotten his helm, or had it knocked off in the battle. The retort of his rifle bled into the chaotic noise of men screaming and dying. Nicoli managed to catch the knight in the side of the head and he went down like a sack of potatoes with a large crater in his skull.


Groktur, Morgul and Larus

The wispy, billowing red vapour continued to spread outwards. The men-at-arms caught in the initial blast of toxins had ceased their frantic convulsions and now lay still, eyes weeping blood and tongue swollen to bursting with discoloured skin.

Another halberdier was dropped to his knee's as a Witch Elf took them out with a precise slash along the back of his legs, and he too succumbed to the poisonous gas. Larus had sped through the expandin cloud, leaving a shifting wake behind him. When he met the closest halberdier to the periphery of the cloud, he thrusts at the man with his spear. With careful movements, the halberdier tried to spear Larus in the chest but the Breathstealer was quicker, knocking the blow aside and ducking under a wide sweeping blow from another. Behind him, the gas had spilled out across the majority of the halberdiers and they were dropping like flies, barely a score left.

Sir Girart deflected the frenzied blows of of Lissakah's sister, before slamming the pommel of his blade into her head and stunning her long enough for him to bring the greatsword down on her head and splitting it open. Lissakah tore her two blades free from where she had buried them into the soft spot under the nearby footman's arm, and snarled angrily at the Bretonnian Knight of the Realm.

Near them, Erial and Morgul had the footman on the defensive. He managed to dodge aside from Erial's raking slashes, and followed up with a thrust of his own blade which she easily avoided. Morgul saw his opening during the footman's counterattack against Erial, and buried a hand axe in the footman's shoulder, splitting mail like linen. When the footman threw back his head in pain, Morgul hammered the butt of his bray-staff into his throat.

Groktur twisted his spear in hand before plunging it down into the gut of the halberdier he had chosen as prey. The ungors surged around him, avoiding the poisonous cloud but cutting into the halberdiers who were wavering and breaking. However, the footman finally had a clear line on the Caprigor and ran at him, frantically trying to spear Groktur on his blade. But the nimble, dangerous beastman easily avoided the blow as he tore his spear free from the dead halberdier.

[DrK]

Morgul

Stamping hard on the downed footman to make sure he was dead and gone Morgul stalked forward, a nod to Eliath beside him to go for the proud bretonnina knight fighting Lissakah. Hopefully with 3 of them fighting of him he would be easily taken... Reaching Girart as the ranks of halberdiers were mainly filled with those pouring blood from eyes and mouth he circled with the two women, allowing them to take their attacks first and let use the weight advantage of the braystaff to smash through the thick armour. he snarls a curse "I eat heart of man today. You burn to Dark Gods...." the threats accompanied by powerful smashing blows. He curses, snarls and head butts at the man in a frenzied rush relying as much on his unsettling appearance as his multiple weapons to defend himself.

Spoiler: OOC

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Go go Sir Girrart
- I'll wait till Lissakah has attacked and he's used up his parry/dodge

(1d100)[17] TN 55 or 65 (45+10 or 20 outnumber (if 3:1)) dam (2d10)[1][2](3)+4 = 6 to the left leg
(1d100)[21] TN 55 or 65 (45+10 or 20 outnumber (if 3:1)) dam (2d10)[7][6](13)+4 = 11 to the head
(1d100)[68] TN 55 or 65 (45+10 or 20 outnumber (if 3:1)) dam (2d10)[9][10](19)+4 what a waste of a Dark God's fury

Parry: (1d100)[22] TN55 Well that's reassuring
Dodge: (1d100)[5] TN38 as is that

Conditions:
Unsettling (-10% WS/BS to hit me without a WP test), Blessing Dark Master
Soak 6 (body/legs/arms), 5 head

[neriractor]

Bjorni whistled appreciatively, if he hadn't met Bodhi and Sigrun she would easily be the fiercest woman he knew. As much as he appreciated the sight of her as she followed Kharneth's creed he couldn't let her take the kill, barely distracting her enemy was a feat of dogs, not men. He swipped again, hoping to take advantage of the brief staggering the footman had.

Spoiler: OOC

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all-out attack!
(1d100)[71] TN 70 (40 +10 outnumbered + 20 all-out attack)
(1d10+3)[4]

[rax]

The toxic red mist begins to clear around Lárus and he smiles wryly at the halberdier he had missed and whose attack he had just batted aside. "Disappointing for both of us, but I'll give you another shot, eh?" he jokes as his spear lances forwards once, twice in quick succession. A small wisp of gas curls from his mouth...

Spoiler: Actions

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Gas!
The cloud centres on Lárus and covers an area 6 yards in diameter. That covers anyone in melee or otherwise adjacent to him. Anyone at the edge of the cloud (partially covered by the template, in game terms), may roll an Agility test to leap out of the way.

Gas type = Paralysing (pass Toughness -10 test or become paralysed - unable to take action - for 1d10 rounds; Toughness test must be repeated every round a character remains in the cloud)
Gas remains potent 3 rounds
Next round, gas drifts 2 yards directly ahead/to the north of Lárus

Full action: Swift attack with spear (1d100)[38] and (1d100)[39] vs. WS 50
Damage: (1d10+5)[9] and (1d10+5)[9] damage
Attempts to parry or dodge spear attacks are a -10

Ulric's Fury if applicable:
(1d100)[20] and (1d100)[57] vs. WS 50
(1d10+5)[14] and (1d10+5)[13] damage

Assuming Lárus is attacked, he will parry the first successful attack and then dodge if successfully attacked again:
(1d100)[51] vs. WS 60 (50+10 from shield)
(1d100)[28] vs. Ag 26 (-10 due to mail armour)

Attack result summary
Hit the right leg for 9 damage, hit the left leg for 9 damage
Successful parry

Wounds (remaining/total): 11/11
Fortune Points (used/total): 1/3