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Jagrun would not relent. The Captain's cries went unheard, the rest of the square watching in silence as the Witch Hunter pitched into his opponent once more.
Lothar looked to Marius, shaking his head. "Insane is right, sir." The soldier gestured to Ithelus with one hand, sheathing his sword with the other. "You ought to get to Maria's manor, Ith- make sure Halbermann's men don't plant anything, that it's all fair an' honest. You're the fastest, an' whichever way this fight goes we need an honest man there."
There was a preganant pause- in the makeshift duelling ring, Raffy scored a hit against his opponent, and the crowd hushed.
"Or elf."
__________________ Games:
[WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart, reprising Lothar Fischer, Nordlander deserter.
Ithelus nods, although obviously reluctent to leave the duel he begins to move away. 'Oh' he turns back to Lothar, 'Once the duel is over kill the bastard whilst he is wounded.' He then hurries his way to Maria's, not specifying which bastard he meant. Perhaps there was no difference at all.
"Captain said you folk were to stay here," said one of the guards, moving into Ithelus' path - he couldn't really keep his eyes on the elf, so distracted by the fight. Metal clashed and whirled, the gawping circle of spectators forced to scuttle out of the way as the two combatants' frantic footwork brought them closer to the edge...
Spoiler
And again. Rolling Toughness for Raffy since Poet isn't here and has no remaining fortune points.
Botched the rolls, so the hit rolls just have their results written in (dice rolled OOC).
Lothar shook his head. "I think we're a ways beyond that now- look, I'll take it on my own self if Ith legs it, but we need to make sure that things go as smooth as they can."
The soldier glanced toward the makeshift arena again, as the fighters swirled about one another. "Actually, might be a good idea to send for Doc Rasen. Either way, someone's goin' to need a bandage. And a runner to the Temples, to make this duel all official. Third party an' all that." He fingered the cord holding his lucky wolf's tooth, and forced a grin.
"Probably one each, eh, from Ulric an' Sigmar?"
__________________ Games:
[WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart, reprising Lothar Fischer, Nordlander deserter.
"I said you stay here," hissed Marius, under his breath. "Or do you want me to explain him why I let you go after he's done with Rafale?"
Looking across at a guard for as long as he could tear his eyes away from the duel, the Captains snapped his fingers impatiently. "Jenkels. Holstadt. Do as the man says. The Doctor, and the temples."
Giving distracted salutes, the two men set off, pushing through the crowd until their way was clear enough to break into a run...
"Ithelus," warned Pieter quietly, "killing the witch hunter is not going to get us out of trouble." But it was obvious that his heart was not in it.
As the fight went on he circled around the duellists, always trying to stay behind Raffy, ready to intervene should he fall. His lips moved silently in a fervent prayer to the Trickster. If Pieter was any judge of swordplay, Raffy owed his chance of victory to luck, cunning and sheer determination, not skill. But a tiny mistake would be his death.
No matter how it ends, he thought with awe, the revolution wins.
Ithelus snarled, but stayed put. His frustration was obvious, and his hand started to creep up his sleeve, the sleeve where he concealed his throwing knives.
Spoiler
Drawing a throwing knife, but keeping it concealed up his sleeve for the moment.
Breaking off his furious attack, Jagrun paced around to the Sparrowhawk's left, the point of his sword held out in defence. He was breathing heavily, the clothes of his left shoulder now soaked in his own blood.
"Perhaps you have more skill than I gave you credit for," he called out, raising his voice so the whole crowd could hear once again. "It does not change the fact that the witch has deceived you. Either she has duped you into serving as a sacrifice, or as an assassin."
He swung his sword once in his hand, loosening his wrist.
"Either way, this has gone on long enough."
Moving with unnerving speed for a man so heavily wounded, the Templar slammed forwards.
Spoiler
Jagrun makes a Swift Attack, no longer striking to stun.
I. Said. ENOUGH! Illiiya yelled out in the tensely silent room, Sorek t'shall. N'stra taal uluien veshk ie Khaine!
Raising a slender hand to the sky, Illiiya began a loud incantation in elven... the words slipping effortlessly off her tongue, as she made a strange gesture with her outstretched hand. She glared at Jagrun intently, hoping the witch hunter was as ignorant as he was brash.
Spoiler
Casting.... NOTHING! What am I... some reckless Sparrowhawk?
The intent being to freak Jagrun out enough that he aborts his action and either comes at me... or falters long enough to Raffy to sneak in a killing blow. Illiiya is all for Jagrun dying, but she's still very, very afraid to whip magic around. Most especially when there's a mob of magic-phobic folk around.
Besides... Raffy deserves that kill far more than I do. He took on a freakin' witch hunter in a straight up fight!
Spoiler for those who speak elven, only!
Spoiler
All she said was. "Death take you. Suffer now the wrath of Khaine."
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The Templar’s blade was wearing further through Raffy’s defences with every blow exchanged, the Sparrowhawk clearly having seconds left – the relentless assault stopped abruptly as Illiiya began to chant, Jagrun’s head whipping round.
Stepping back, the Witch Hunter made for his pistol – he snarled as his injured arm refused to obey him.
“Captain!” he shouted, keeping his blade raised between himself and Raffy. “Seize her!”
Around them, Marius’ guards did not need their captain’s instruction to follow the man’s order – gripping their halberds, they closed in, fear of Templar crushing their fear of the sorceress in their midst. His lethal assault interrupted, Jagrun glanced back towards Raffy, narrowing his eyes into his customary suspicious glare.
“This was your plan, boy? To give your sorcerous friend an opportunity to stab me in the back?” He looked back at Illiiya, the guards still hesitating in a circle around her. “Silence that elf!”
OOC:
Spoiler
His attack broken off, Jagrun instead enters a Defensive Stance and assumes a Parrying Stance.
If he still had the use of his left arm, though, he would totally have let Herr Pistol do the talking instead.
The initiative order resumes as before: the Guards come at the very end, although Marius is before some of you. Note that Ithelus still gets to act, despite the fact that he comes before Illiiya - her action kicked off the round, but it doesn't freeze him in place! He acts first of all.
Thank you BA! I love you and Illiiya with all my heart!
(If'n you have any spells what boost my to-hit I'll love you even more.... )
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Raffy doesn't look off-target to see what all the commotion is. Instead he dodges that near-fatal stroke and pressed in while the Hunter is distracted and yelling.
Spoiler
Parry - (1d100)[98] vs 36
Strike - (1d100)[28] vs 36
damage (1d10+3)[7]
__________________
In real life I quit my job and left my home to become a professional adventurer. The Great Adventure
Ready for his enemy's attack, Jagrun met Raffy's sword with a curt block, the peal of striking steel ringing out over the rising hubbub of the crowd. There was a whir of flying metal from somewhere on the Witch Hunter's left - Jagrun ducked at the last minute, Ithelus' knife spinning over his head.
Snapping out of the stunned trance he had been occupying, Marius drew his sword, stepping back from the door to allow the guards within access to the outside. "Stop them!" he shouted, pointing the blade at the two elves...
Pieter had been in trouble enough times to know when what could pass for cowardice became simply pragmatism. He and his friends would get jailed or killed if they stayed here. He was but one man, without status or authority in this place. There was nothing he could do, here and now, to save the day.
He needed allies. And most of all, he needed time. He knew how to obtain both.
The initiate glanced at the crowd, then at the guards. With a duel going on and Illiiya providing a distraction, no one was paying any attention to him. Now was the time to make a break for it.
He drew back carefully towards the edge of the crowd. As he passed near Lothar, he told him, just loud enough to be heard above the chaos: "Gotta go. See you after the revolution."
Lothar was frozen, his eyes alternating from the elves and the duellists, in open-mouthed horror. He put a hand on a sword, but the stricken expression on his face spoke volumes- he had no idea where he was to place his loyalties.
"I'll not fight the Guard. But I know that t'elves are innocent..."
Spoiler
If I don't know what to do, neither does Lothar. Hold action.
__________________ Games:
[WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart, reprising Lothar Fischer, Nordlander deserter.
Marius’ order stinging them into action, the guards swung into action: emerging from inside the Guard House, two of them bundled into Illiiya, attempting to pin the slight elf’s arms to her sides.
Spoiler
Two guards make charging grapple attempts on Illiiya:
(1d100)[49] (at +10 for charging) - miss (1d100)[81] (at +20 for charging & outnumbering 2:1) - miss
Ag to avoid: (1d100)[19] (1d100)[54]
Lithe as a whip, Illiiya twisted out of their grasp, the two men practically cannoning into each other as the little elf dodged out of their path. To their right, another guard turned back from the now-uneasily-churning crowd, looking round as Ithelus threw his knife – levelling the point of his halberd at the elf, he hesitated for a moment before trying to clout the thief across the head with his the butt of his polearm.
Spoiler
Another guard makes a half action move into contact with Ithelus (not being 4 yards away to charge), and makes a Standard Attack, striking to stun.
(1d100)[75] - miss S33 - (1d100)[42] T38 - (1d100)[67]
Ithelus, too, was too nimble for his opponent, the heavy halberd-stave whooshing through thin air as the thief ducked.
Meanwhile, Pieter was slipping away into the crowd – seeing the initiate, one of the guards holding the masses back raised a cry, beginning to push his way in after him. “Stop him!” he shouted, pointing after Pieter – the Ranaldite felt the eyes of the people around him begin to turn his way...
At the threshold of the Guard House, Lothar felt a calloused hand descend on his shoulder. It was a big hand.
“You ain’t goin’ to make trouble, are you sir?” said a guard in his ear, almost affably. “Only I’ll need to be takin’ those swords.”
Pieter knew how crowds worked: When someone shouted "Thief!", or "Get a doctor!", or in this case, "Stop him!", people just froze in place indecisively and waited for somebody else to act. Holding his quarter staff defensively just in case some heroic citizen got the idea of getting in his way, he kept walking at a brisk pace, heading northeast.
Lothar tensed, and half shrugged, scowling. "I'm not 'bout to draw steel on my fellow soldiers, not even if the comet appeared again." He nodded in the direction of Illiiya. "But I know she weren't harmin' anyone, an' I don't wanna see her blood spilled."
__________________ Games:
[WFRP] The Lord of Lost Heart, reprising Lothar Fischer, Nordlander deserter.
Ithelus swears violently as the Guard swipes at him. This is not what I signed up for, I should run. But what about Illiiya? Have you seen her? She isn't Illiiya anymore, she's..... gone. He gives her one last look, 'Illiiya! Run! Please Run!' He shouts out before spinning round and running into the crowd.
Spoiler
Disengage action and then legging it as fast as possible into the crowd. If I need to make an ag test to navigate the crowd. (1d100)[96]
Ithelus ran... it was the most she could hope for. At least he would be safe if he kept going and didn't come back. Pieter seemed to be missing too... though that fact concerned her less.
Why are you helping him?! We will not die this way!
There was little time to give pause for her objections as the guards came at her. Just like the daemons she had convinced herself she saw wherever she went... deep down, she knew that it was false. The only voice ringing out in her head against what she was doing, was her own.
The humans were slow and clumsy, and she evaded them with ease... though it was only a matter of time until they bore down on her with weight of numbers. Escape was... unlikely. But she could still buy time. The guards would not chase down Ithelus as long as the sorceress was up.
She gave a weak smile as she stepped back from the fray... her eyes watering a bit as she realized something.
Ith... I'm not afraid anymore. She muttered with a strange sense of pride, though she knew he was well beyond hearing her. Thank you. I can repay you now.
And holding her hands out, she called to the energy that swirled around her.
She feared them no longer. She knew she would likely die, one way or another... but she no longer cared. For him, she would do so.
Around her, the winds whipped... the screeching of the zephyr sounding like voices from another place as they tore themselves across the shroud. She took hold of the Dhar and tore it free through force of will, in one last spell... her face strangely peaceful.
Spoiler
Now we hope that this works. Casting magic dart on Jagrun. I shall spend a fortune point if this fails, as it would be really... really depressing if she petered out now.
I'm not sure how the fortune point re-roll on a spell works. Do I re-roll both dice, or just one? Also, if I don't need it for the casting (If the spell succeeds, but with a miscast, I'll keep it) and my damage is below 6, total... I'll use it on damage instead. Jagrun dies.
Edited... didn't need it for either. The power of drama saved me! Good, I might need it to escape alive.
With an otherworldly shriek that seemed to come for the air itself, Illiiya thrust her hands forward, sending the frigid, otherworldly wind out in a lashing torrent. The air grew chill, a frigidness that seemed to creep up from the bones, as the screaming of an unknowable number of lost souls swept across the room with a singular purpose... avoiding all others in it's path, save one.
The winds whipped across Jagrun with unseen rage, tearing at his flesh as they swirled around him in a tight circle, shrieking like a banshee all the while. The unseen blades of the dark chill wind sliced across him furiously, leaving dozens of cuts that seemed to appear from nowhere... as they sought to rip his life from him or snuff it out entirely in their frigid embrace.
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Turning at Illiiya's Aethyric assault, the Templar looked up as the ghostly sounds snickered through the air around him - the crowd drew back with a murmur of fear as a shallow cut flicked across the Witch Hunter's face, Jagrun stepping back in alarm.
Muttering a prayer to his god, the hard-eyed man raised his sword to defend himself from the unseen enemy. Raffy felt the temperature suddenly drop, frost riming the cobbles around Jagrun's feet - with a whickering of invisible blades, bright blood flew from the Sigmarite's sword arm, the Witch Hunter giving a roar of pain as a score of cuts slashed into his skin. Nearly dropping to his knees, he clutched at his wrist, bright blood pumping between his fingers: his sword slipped from his hand, clattering to the cobbles still slick with the traces of Raffy's blood.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Jagrun glared up at his assailant, pure hatred burning in the zealot's gaze. Drawing on iron willpower to speak instead of scream, he breathed his command to Marius' men.
Raffy steps forward and places the tip of his sword to Jagrun's neck. He grimaces, but raises his voice to address the entire crowd for the first time. Nearly screaming over the chaos, as the crackle of the spell hushes the crowd in fear, he can be heard loud and clear:
"This is not how I wanted to see you fall, heretic. But truly Sigmar has not preserved you, neither against my steel nor against the magic a Templar is consecrated to defeat. Recant now and admit your crimes, or you will have to explain it to your God."
The tip of his broadsword pressing into his neck makes the threat clear....
Spoiler
If he begins to confess his crimes: delay;
If he is defiant in any way: execute.
Damage (1d10+3)[11]
(I assume no to-hit is needed.)
__________________
In real life I quit my job and left my home to become a professional adventurer. The Great Adventure
Still clutching at the wound in his wrist, Jagrun looked down at the sword under his chin, then across at Raffy.
"Think again before you condemn yourself as the witch has done, boy," he said, quietly. "Your soul is at stake. The wages of heresy are damnation everlasting, and they will be paid out to you as surely as to her.”
He turned his head to look at the Sparrowhawk face-to-face.
“The ends justify the means. My conscience is clear.”
Behind them, the guard whom Ithelus had escaped hesitated for a moment before joining his colleagues in a mad rush towards Illiiya. Pushing his way forwards from the door, Marius stared wild-eyed at the scene before him.
“Stop this!” he shouted to the world at large. “Stop this at once!”
Rafale’s sword hovered at Jagrun’s throat, Illiiya ringed by a circle of wavering halberd-points – none of the guards who had rushed to encircle her wished to be the first to strike. The Captain’s eyes fixed on the Sparrowhawk.
“Rafale, I order you to let him go.”
To the left of the door, one guard remained outside the circle of steel, his hand still on Lothar’s shoulder.
Quote:
Lothar tensed, and half shrugged, scowling. "I'm not 'bout to draw steel on my fellow soldiers, not even if the comet appeared again." He nodded in the direction of Illiiya. "But I know she weren't harmin' anyone, an' I don't wanna see her blood spilled."
“’Fraid I got to insist, sir,” said the watchman, gently. “You’re with these gentlemen, so I think I got to take those swords.”
OOC:
Spoiler
Actions for the Guards
The two guards already in contact with Illiiya: ready halberds, delay standard attack
Two guards (Ithelus’ and Pieter’s): half move into contact with Illiiya, delay standard attack
One guard: run into contact with Illiiya
All delayed attacks go off as soon as Illiiya makes any kind of move, other than to surrender and come quietly.
The guards inside the Guard House: move out behind Marius.
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