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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: The Guard
Subject: The Guard


Iothora 1st, 452 E.R. (Spring)
Coria City, The Kingdom of Coria
Shortly past the 15th hour, in the Yards





The cool of the spring evening was settling across the yard accompanied by Valdorn’s Promise as the four young Corians finally reached the blue, yellow, and white recruiting canopy. They’d been standing in line for the past two turns of the sands waiting for the chance to speak with the coster’s agent—two long hours surrounded by the unfamiliar company of sellswords and mercenaries. The smells of unwashed men, the rough laughter at uncouth topics of conversation that would have caused their mother’s no end of shock had they heard, and the boredom of the long wait had taken its toll, but there was no other option for the four of them. They were at the end of their rope and they’d been burning it from both ends for the past two weeks until they’d had to admit that there was nothing else for it. They needed to find employment, or they’d starve…or worse.

Of course, there were always the usual jobs available for young people their age. Veses could have easily picked up any job requiring his strength and capacity for hard labor, and both Issant and Liones could have found their way into the employ of any of the yardsmen with tanning, or stable-tending. Laise would have probably even made it as a barmaid were she not so beautiful that whenever she found herself outside of the company of her family, men would push themselves on her in frightening and too friendly ways. Even standing in line her brother Veses had been forced to position himself threateningly between her and one mercenary or another. It was doubtful that those hardened soldiers had truly been intimidated by a weaponless farm boy, but they’d laughed and backed away from their advances all the same.

So it was that the four farmers from Pelin Hamlet had determined they’d needed to find something that kept them in each other’s company lest they be whittled away at by the hustle and bustle of the unfamiliar city to eventually become lost altogether. That had led to many debates over their options, and it had been Laise who had suggested the employment of a merchant coster as guards. It was true, the lot of them had barely ever seen a sword, much less strapped one on, but they’d contested the notion until they were blue in the face, and finally, after much deliberation, they’d consented to at least try. As Issant put it, “It isn’t likely they’ll hire us on anyways, what with how wet behind the ears we all are.”

The event that had brought them to Coria City from their little hamlet was still vivid in their memories barely a couple of weeks old. Some would have grown sullen, withdrawn, even dangerously depressed, but these four were made of hardy stock and they were determined to not only survive, but to find those responsible and bring them to justice, even if the city guard were of no help in the matter. How they might do that was another matter, but they were determined nonetheless, and as Liones had pointed out, “If we’re to find those responsible we’ll need to better know how to defend ourselves or we’ll just end up in D’hurgen’s Realm like butchered sheep.”

“Well, now. What have we here?”

The man behind the stout weatherworn wood table was chubby with a wide face that housed two pinched eyes and a bulbous red nose. His lips were thick and pouty, and his chin sported a tower-like mole that had a growth of brown, stringy hair hanging from it. He was balding, and his scalp was peeling from sunburn. His piggy eyes were watery and red, and though his clothing was of bright coloring (mainly the yellow and blues of his coster), it was stained by old sweat, wine, and across his sleeves there were streaks of snot. On either side of him stood two guardsmen in leather armor bearing shields and spears, both as different in appearance and countenance as they were to the recruiter between them.

The one to the right stood a little taller than Veses, and was perhaps just a bit broader in the shoulders, though slimmer of waist. He was much older as well with dark, wavy brown hair that puffed out from beneath his slate gray conical helmet crowned by a comb of blue-dyed horsehair. His beard was fully grown, thick and coarse, and his mustaches were grown out to dangle two inches below his jaw, tied off with bright blue, yellow, and red beads. Across his right eye he wore a black leather patch that bore the relief of an eyeball burned into it with a skull for the pupil, and a nasty scar cut through his cheek from underneath the patch to run all the way into his beard. He wore a chain hauberk under his blue and white tunic with the symbol of a floating castle presented proudly upon his chest and steel shield, and he leaned on his spear in a relaxed manner, a scowl on his face.

The one to the left looked a little less at ease. He stood even of height with Liones, was clean-shaven with an angular face and green eyes that looked as though they could see into one’s soul. He wasn’t extremely attractive, but he was fair to look upon, and though he stood with a steel shield and spear in hand the same as his counterpart, he didn’t wear the coster’s colors, nor the chain hauberk. Instead he wore simple leathers over reddish-brown and gold clothing with a gold-brown cloak draped across his shoulders. His was also a conical helmet, and its comb was a natural brown in color.

“It would appear that we have some fresh meat, Mausin,” the scarred man growled.

“As fresh as it comes Captain Omains,” the pudgy Mausin giggled into the back of his hand and wiped his already encrusted sleeve under his red nose. “Fodder for the Road?”

“So it would seem…” Omains ground his teeth causing his jaw muscles to tense and the scar to pull at his flesh. “They are here after all. The lot of you have swords? Armor?”

“No—“ Issant started to answer, but the captain cut him short.

“No? And how do you propose to protect the caravan should it come under attack? Piss on them that would do it harm? No weapons. No armor.” Omains turned his head to the right and spat. “And she don’t look like she could do much more than service the men come nightfall. Is that what you’re for? Eh, pretty? A little relief come firetime?”

Mausin giggled again, resulting in a snort. “Relief come firetime. Priceless!”

“Now see here—“ Veses stepped forward, his brow furrowed, his teeth as tightly clenched as his fists.

“See what, Dirt?” Omains shifted so he wasn’t leaning on his spear any more, but instead held it easily in his hands so that it was demonstrated prominently before him. “What is it you have to say to me, Dirt?”

“Heh!” Mausin continued to giggle. “Dirt!”

“That isn’t what I’m here for, captain,” Laise stepped around her big brother’s broad shoulders and placed her hands on her hips though she was trembling when she did so. “I can fight as well as these, and will do so with the right pay in hand.”

“The little vixen has spirit…” Captain Omains looked at the lot of them thoughtfully for a moment, then shifted back to leaning on his spear. “Sign them, Mausin. They’ll join me on this next caravan.”

“Hee hee,” Mausin replied as he dipped the crow’s quill in the ink-stained well and drew dipped it in the cork afterwards. “Name, meat?”

“Issant Bramerrecan.”

“Liones Bramerrecan.”

“Veses Bensant.”

“Laise Bensant.”

“What is this?” Omains snarled as the recruiter scribbled their names into the book before him. “A family affair? It matters not. You’re all soldiers of the Sky Palace Coster now, and it don’t matter if you’re brothers, cousins, or bedfellows. You’re all meat.

“Corporal Melis,” the captain didn’t even bother to look at the other guard as he spoke; something unsavory apparently on his tongue. “You’ll see them all outfitted first thing in the morning with Coster property: leathers, swords, daggers, bows for them that can use it, arrows, helmets, and shields.”

“Yes sir,” the other soldier replied stiffly.

“The pay is one brissan a day. You’ll eat what Cook serves, and you’ll report to the warehouses before first light on the morrow where you’ll receive your outfitting and positions among the men. Understood?”


Posted on 2010-09-16 at 06:29:31.

Topic: The Guard
Subject: If I upload them...


If I upload the character sheets to GOOGLE Docs you should all be able to view them online through the viewer. So, I think that's what I'm going to do. So, check your emails for the link to get to the files.

There are two tabs you need to pay attention to in the character file (but I wouldn't be too concerned if you don't recognize all the numbers, etc. as I want you worrying more about role-play than the rules). The first tab is your character sheet with the gear, skills, perks and talents (think feats), and stats. The second tab is the character's history in a nutshell: lifepath.

I'll work up the introductory post and let you all know when it is in place.

Posted on 2010-09-15 at 19:37:38.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Uh-uh...no way!


Wyatt calmly looked Willow in the eye and gave a slow shake of his head.

"I'd sooner ask you to bed a Reaver, than that man, Willow. I conjure we'll figure somethin' out, just like always, without you havin' t' whore yourself out to the Devil." The statement was said softly, without malice or contempt. Wyatt knew what Willow had done--continued to do on occasion--and it didn't bother him none. He rarely used the word "whore" to describe any part of it unless he was really driving a point home. And in this case, the very thought of his little doctor alone with such a bloodthirsty killer was dirty.

The captain pushed his hat back on his head so that it rested along his hairline. This was going to be a trick hand of Poker if Wyatt had ever played one.

Posted on 2010-09-15 at 19:13:48.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: No problem, Chief.


I'll patiently wait.

Posted on 2010-09-15 at 19:07:21.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: I went back and...


Edited my previous post to include more reaction to the events. I apologize for my previous lack of creative response.

Posted on 2010-09-15 at 19:06:31.

Topic: The Guard
Subject: So, do all of you...?


Do all of you have Excel? Or do I need to save these sheets out in a PDF format?

Posted on 2010-09-14 at 05:58:05.

Topic: The Guard Q n' A
Subject: Almost there.


I'm almost ready to dish your characters out.

Posted on 2010-09-13 at 05:54:38.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I can't help myself.


I posted again.

Posted on 2010-09-11 at 06:18:54.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Sorry for my delay.


I posted oh patient one.

Posted on 2010-09-11 at 06:17:07.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Hmmm.


"I've had better days, Captain-san," Willow began meekly, looking at the floor. "A quiet drink and a chance to conduct some minor business was all that I wanted, and James was the only one left on the ship. Only it turned out that James had been sent by that awful Brigit woman on the same matter, and the stupid fool drew a gun on me! I was so frightened, Captain, " Willow looked up at that moment, the terror fresh in her jade eyes, lashes trembling," I've never, I mean, people just don't do that in my world...or what used to be my world.." her voice trailed away. Willow drew a shuddering breath and visibly reined herself in, looking away again as she continued, "The bartender, Darla, fired this enormous shotgun, just missing James and then the sheriff charged in. He's an awful, awful man, Captain-San! He beat James for being snotty, then arrested him, and made some pretty objectionable suggestions as to how I could free him. We need to tell Blake his son's been arrested, Captain, but I don't want to go anywhere near that awful man. "Willow's eyes widened as she remembered what Benny had said about Pearson. "Oh! And Captain, we can't let the Beylix people hire that deputy...Pearson? My contact here told me he's ruthless and more than casual about killing.... " Wyatt's eyes narrowed subtly ".. oh no, was that the gunfire I heard? The sheriff went charging out of the bar after arresting James...who got shot? I thought I saw all of you on the mule just now and I saw Sam..."

Wyatt was boiling. He didn't much hold to keeping tabs on the crew's personal business, but he did expect them to take precautions, and going off with James as protection in a town like this...that was like taking a rubber knife to a sword duel. Not to mention that they now had to deal with that insipid sheriff once again and Wyatt wasn't sure luck was on their side this time around. Despite his anger the captain showed only a slight displeasure.

"Gorram it, Willow," he said softly. "You could have been shot and kilt, and there wouldn't have been nothing I could have done about it."

That was all Wyatt was going to make of that. He could have droned on, berated her, played the part of the ornery captain, but he wasn't like that and she would likely beat herself up worse than he ever could.

"And we've already got Pearson on board so we've got three days to figure out how to stop him from influencing the good folk of Frezno. But that's only if we can get off this rock, and we've precious time to do that as it is. Now I've got to get that gorram dandy out of the lockup, and I doubt that sheriff will dance to our fiddle this time around.

"where did you see Sam."

(OOC: anything Willow wants to add?)

Stepping over to the comm, Wyatt activated it.

"All crew to the cargo bay, pronto."

It was time for some planning


Posted on 2010-09-11 at 06:10:38.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Quick! No. Wait.


It worked! Both spells worked, Char didn't have time to be too elated as the pouty voice declared her frustration and dropped her macabre gifts on the heads of the heroes. The woodsman watched in fascinated horror as the body parts were lifted overhead. It was only when the thick and viscous blood fell from the severed appendages striking his cheek that the ranger's instincts kicked in. He couldn't dodge all of them, and was struck my a leg on his shoulder as well as plenty of blood when they all came down with a sickening, wet, splat. Sticky with the cool blood, Char shook his mane of hair out like a wolf fresh from a stream, and clenched his jaw against the revulsion that threatened to overtake his cool. It was the tendrils and their link to whomever this puppet master was retreating from the chamber that really provided him with strength.

"Kilgim," Char stepped to the edge of the circle the orange-bearded dwarf had drawn, tucking one sword underneath his right arm and using the gloved palm of his left to wipe some of the blood from the corner of his mouth. "do dis magic move wi' us if'n we move."

(OOC: assuming a negative.)

"Dos strings be tracks dat once be gone I canna follow. We mus' be off,"

Despite the urgency he felt he didn't give chase right away as he was neither the party leader nor keen on chasing down someone with the power he'd just witnessed on his own.

Posted on 2010-09-11 at 04:30:38.
Edited on 2010-09-15 at 19:03:33 by Bromern Sal

Topic: The Guard
Subject: Yup...


Sorry. Thanks for the interest.

Posted on 2010-09-10 at 22:55:09.

Topic: The Guard Q n' A
Subject: The Guard Q n' A


Players:


  • Eol Fefalas

  • Jozan1

  • Keeper of Dragons

  • Brianna

  • YeOlde



Concept:

The party consists of four characters. These characters have a rich history and are well known to each other, and all come from similar backgrounds. They are thrust into the trying and perilous world of sellswords and mercenaries. Signing on with the Sky Palace Merchant Coster the four know only that their journey is to take them from Coria City to Calestra. The game will start with the characters reporting for duty.

Posted on 2010-09-10 at 00:18:02.
Edited on 2010-09-15 at 19:20:23 by Bromern Sal

Topic: The Guard
Subject: OK. So, we've enough interest.


That being said, I'll flesh things out a bit further for you in the next day or so, creating a Q&A thread. Those of you who want to play are welcome. It looks like there are four, and that's a nice, round number. You'll receive character sheets, but don't be dismayed if you don't understand them as they will be in the FUZIONFantasy rules format. But you'll be able to see what you need, and I'll answer questions if you have them.

Welcome to the world of mercenaryism...er something like that.

Posted on 2010-09-10 at 00:14:12.

Topic: Hello, Hello
Subject: Howdy.


Welcome.

Posted on 2010-09-10 at 00:09:56.

Topic: The Guard
Subject: The Guard


So, I'm thinking about starting a new game. As players you'd be taking on precreated characters that I have in mind. I'm hoping to find three to four players. This would take place in the Audalis setting. The idea is that the players would be sellswords, caravan guards, that sort. Not the standard adventurers. If there's interest I'll flesh it out.

Posted on 2010-09-08 at 20:18:22.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Who the hell said three's company?


Reading Ma's note Wyatt swore under his breath a long string of Chinese that would have likely made Willow blush.

"Did she take a comm unit?" At Ma's shake of the head, Wyatt added to the expletives and turned on his heel to go find the little woman.

"Ma," he called over his shoulder and through clenched teeth. "Ain't no one else welcome on, or off Rocinante, you hear me?"

As he strode through the ship once more his mind raced with the possible situations Willow had found herself in while accompanying that fop. He couldn't get the sound of gunfire from the saloon out of his head now that he knew that had been her destination. Why'd she go and do somethin' like this without tellin' me? Without takin' someone along she can trust, like Sam, or even Wolf? He envisioned the little woman with a large hole through her middle trying to explain to him how to stitch her up as he reached through the bars of the corrupt sheriff's cell and his anger consumed him much the same as his long, brown coat wrapped and roiled about his legs.

Sam was Sam. They were the best of friends, but Wyatt made no mistake in thinking the pilot was incapable of taking care of himself. Ma usually stayed on board, but she always carried that scattershot, and Wyatt had seen her use it on more than one occasion. Wolf was new to the crew, but he was vouched for, and The Kid was proven. Willow wasn't a greenhorn by any means, but she didn't strap on, and she wasn't exactly physically strong. Of all his crew she was the one he worried over the most, and now here she had gone and slipped off all secret-like on the arm of a man who Wyatt'd sooner have left back on Frisco while landing herself in a heap of trouble.

Reaching the door lodged within the much larger cargo door, Wyatt twisted the handle and pulled it inward, completely oblivious to the squealed protest the hinges made as his hazel eyes fell on the beautiful visage of his ship doctor. At first his anger dissipated devoured by the concern he felt and chased by the relief, but the whole of the situation came boiling back as the harried look she tried to hide seeped through.

"Welcome back, Willow," Wyatt said as he let her glide past him checking the yard beyond for any sign of the dandy before closing the door and turning the latch again. "So...how've you been?"

Wyatt's mask had returned and he stared at her from beneath the lowered brim of his hat, arms folded as he leaned casually against the bulkhead.

Posted on 2010-09-07 at 22:19:35.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Not yet.


Nothing has been discussed.

Posted on 2010-09-04 at 05:35:32.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: :(


I'll wait.

Posted on 2010-09-01 at 04:09:14.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: That sucketh.


But new computers rock...except for the expense. I'm saving up for a new computer myself. Saving is the word.

Posted on 2010-09-01 at 04:06:15.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Yeah, something of a change in heart...


Sorry, Tann, but no puttin' the deputy into the airlock...yet.

Posted on 2010-08-30 at 07:17:55.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Hmm...


Newhouse, Beylix, Outside Jailhouse, 1:00 pm, Day Three

Wyatt and the sheriff continued to stare each other down until Pearson stepped forward and presented the captain with his guns. Sung slowly turned his attention towards the offered weapons and reached out to take them just as slowly. Then the deputy walked up to the scene with a large bundle in hand. He seemed oblivious to the incredulous stare of the sheriff, but Sung caught it.

Weaver nodded politely to the captain and the men on the mule. “Gentlemen. Thought you might need this.” He said and rolled out a clean while linen blanket to wrap the body.

"Mighty kind of you, deputy," Wyatt said not without some kindness in his voice. This man seemed to be the only decent soul on this mudball.

“Ken!” Sheriff Arness yells, “Aren’t you suppose to be somewhere?” He makes a head gesture to the jailhouse but Wyatt returned his attention instead to the boisterous lawman--a cold stare despite the warmth of the hazel in his eyes.

“Think there’s been enough killing Sheriff? Why don’t you tend to Darla and I’ll take care of these gents, see them on their way. “ Ken says as he quickly but respectfully wraps up Chad’s body with the skill of a man who has done this before many times. He lifts up the body and hands it over the railing to the folk waiting there, “Truly sorry for your loss.”

“Right.” The sheriff lowers his guns and starts to back away. “Remember Weaver...”

“I know, kill em dead if they stray.”

“Right.” And without a nod, the sheriff walks backwards toward the jailhouse and the bar called Emmett’s.

Ken sighs deeply, “Mr Bowman. I hope you found the work you wanted. I think it would be best for all if you got to moving."

For a brief moment Wyatt considered asking the deputy if he wanted to trade places with Pearson, but with the hot-hand still right there, the captain thought better of it.

"I conjure yer right, Deputy Weaver. Hope you ain't gonna end up in no one's Luhn Gohn by steppin' in here. Joo How Rin."

With a tap Wyatt set Wolf into action and the mule sped deftly away from the awful scene towards the ship. It was a straight shot from the Green to the Newhouse Shipyard, but Wyatt still felt that they couldn't make it to the cargo bay of Rocinante fast enough. His careful gaze kept jumping from alley to rooftop, from window to door, from wagon to horse...his hand resting on his right thigh within easy reach of his Colt.

When they slid into the cargo bay, Wyatt was out of the mule before it had even settled and walking quickly back towards the door.

"Ma," he called into the comm as he reached it. "We got some guests t' get settled. Same number as we had on the trip in so there's no need t' figure on more for mealtime."

Wyatt gazed out into the shipyard for a moment longer, noting the ragtag band of carnival-like performers, the dock-hands in their simple garb and tired expressions, and the various sightseers that were gawking at the paltry offerings the various carts were offering before he hit the activation button to close the door. The last thing he wanted was more trouble wandering on board. For a moment he regretted allowing Sam to walk back to the ship, and was a little concerned over not seeing him along the way.

"All right, listen up," Wyatt turned back to the passengers. "I've had my fill of trouble today, and will be FAY-FAY duh PEE-yen if'n I'll have any of that Fei hua aboard my ship." Finding himself back in territory where he was in control, Wyatt's mood hadn't improved. As his gaze fell on Pearson's visage his temper flared.

"My crew has work to do, day in, and day out. The lot o' you will remain confined to the passenger dorms, and the lounge except at mealtime. We eat at 0600, 1200, and 1800 hours. You can put your man in the infirmary. The doctor will see what she can do to preserve him for the journey." He wanted to say more about how Pearson should spend some time in the infirmary with him pondering on ending someone's life so abruptly, but he didn't think it would do any good. So, he waved them off while looking at them all from under the brim of his hat.

“Cap’n, Mr. Bowman, we can’t let that sheriff blackmail us, we need to find some way to turn the tables or put somebody else in his place. And are we really gonna ferry Pearson back to Frisco, I can’t help but get the feeling there’s something not right about him and if he becomes Sheriff there I think that town, law wise, will become quite hostile to us. I still have friends there Cap‘n I‘d hate to drop this shiong-mung duh kwong-run on them, contract or not” Wolf spoke quietly as the others dispersed.

"We're gonna do jus' that, Wolf," Wyatt said in an even tone, his face unreadable. "We're gonna do the job, we're gonna get paid, and we're gonna put this whole bad deal behind us. Keep your head on straight, dohn-ma?"

Sung had intended to put Pearson down right there on the deck of the cargo bay with a solid punch to the man's jaw, but on the ride from the Green he'd thought better of it. The sheriff expected to hear from the man every twenty-four, and if Pearson told the man that he'd been clocked once they'd arrived back at the ship, or worse, went straight in to report such behavior before they'd burned atmo', well, they could be land-locked, or end up with the Law on them from all corners of the 'Verse. While it stuck in his craw that the man would get away with murdering someone straight out in the name of the Law, Wyatt had his own crew and business to worry about. Common sense told Sung that they needed to steer clear of this particular fight lest they wind up in a big ol' pile of Da shiong La Se La Ch'wohn Tian.

"Andrew," the captain gave Wolf a pat on the shoulder to soften his harsh words a little as he turned to the uncle of his dead wife. "We got a full house what with these travelers an' all, but you're welcome to bunk in Asher's bunk 'til we make Frisco. Then we can work out what needs workin' out."

(OOC: will interact further if necessary.)

Wyatt took the stairs to the catwalks two at a time and quickly went his way into the fore deck, pausing at the landing while he decided whether to check for Willow in the galley or her quarters. Deciding on the galley, he hung a left and strode into the room casting about for the beautiful, petite woman before deciding that she was likely in her bunk. When he didn't receive any response to his queries there he went in search of Ma.

"Where's Willow, Ma?" he said as he discovered her. "Can't find her in the galley, or her bunk. There's a corpse that needs her tendin' in the infirmary and..." His voice trailed off at the scarred woman's expression. "Sloat went an' got himself all shot up by our new passenger. No, I don't know what it's all about, an' it ain't really none of our business--don't look at me that way, Ma. I got enough to worry 'bout without takin' on some corrupt, gun-happy lawmen. Now, where's Willow, and are we resupplied yet? I want t' burn atmo' as soon as possible. I think I know why Sam's so gorram twitchy on this dirtball..."

Posted on 2010-08-30 at 07:17:07.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Not much Char can do, so...


He's just going to get into Kilgim's circle as quickly as he can without leaving Flynn to the beasties.

Posted on 2010-08-30 at 06:20:22.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Not good.


There was no time for disbelief as the grotesque, animated carnage began to throw its dismembered hands at the party. As was always the case with combat, Char kept his mind focused on the present danger and how he would counter it. Back to back with Flynn, he clenched and unclenched his jaw, shifting his balance to adjust with the movements of the enemy. First his left blade was forward, his right back. The bard deftly deflected one flung severed hand with his fiddle, and Char responded by rolling his weight to the ball of his left foot, right hand coming forward and up to place the blade horizontally before his face as he retracted his left to prepare for an underhanded slicing attack should the opportunity present itself.

Kilgim had heard his unnecessary cry and responded that he knew, calling on Clangeddin to banish the spirits.

"Damn!" Char swore as the dead kept up their macabre dance. Turning slighting, he brought the weight back to his right, and spun the blade in his right hand about as he brought it back to his hip replacing its position with his left weapon again, this time, holding the blade in reverse so that it rand down his forearm, jutting out from his elbow at its curve. If the divine might of Kilgim's god couldn't help, they were truly in trouble.

"Is there any way to tell where she is?" Arien called as he moved to take a defensive position by the dwarf priest. "We need to stop her to stop these attacks!"

“Arien, Char, Valentine, Maximus...Flynn,” Dapple called from the shadows, “Don’t waste your strength trying to disable or kill them. Those aren’t battle weapons in their hands, just kitchen grade metal. Use what you can to blunt and warp the edges.”

Char spared Da'Moon a glance, wondering what she had seen that he hadn't. Quickly disengaging his icy blue eyes from the rogue, he turned his attention back to the puppets, spinning the weapon in his right hand to run down the length of his forearm as well. It was one of the best defensive positions for the short, curved blades, and provided his forearms with thick, strong steel guards so that he could get in close and personal without overextending his reach.

Battle weapons or not, a blade was a blade. Char had at least three tales he could tell of mercenaries who'd been done in by a kitchen wench with a cleaver when the soldiers intentions had been less than honorable--such was the way of war, especially where most sellswords were concerned.

Flynn's song ended and Char realized he hadn't even really been paying much attention to the music as the hobgoblins made the ranger's heart jump into his throat before he realized that they were rushing the corpses on Flynn's word. Their fate wasn't too promising.

How t' git close enou' t' attack, Char-lad? Was attack even an option? And then the hands were flying again and Char was shifting about to prepare himself for the possibility of an attack that never came.

"Seems t'me the corpses are 'ere only t'lure us into a fight so that the spirit can tear us t'pieces. So don't attack, but move t'me." Without waiting for his companions to comply, Kilgim began another prayer, pulled a bottle of holy water from within his backpack and hastily began tracing a circle of some 20 feet in diameter around himself and his companions. "Me hopes they can't cross the line, so get yer butts inside it 'n hold yer attacks fer a 'heartbeat."

Char gave a quick nod and stepped back with Flynn, changing direction so that they were no longer heading for the door, but for the dwarf. Char had no idea what Kilgim was up to, but he had faith in his companion...more so that he had in the deity the red-bearded priest worshiped.

“I believe I know this tale, ranger,” Flynn said over his shoulder as he sheathed his sword (much to Char's dismay). “Mind my back for a moment longer, friend, and we’ll see if I can’t reveal what makes these puppets dance, hm?”

"I go' yer back, bar'," Char muttered, still pressing the man back towards Kilgim's growing circle, his eyes darting from potential attack to potential attack. "I don' care if'n ya sing a jaunt' tune, Flynn. Jus' keep movin'."

Posted on 2010-08-30 at 06:18:58.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I'm going to probably post today.


Sorry for the delays.

Posted on 2010-08-29 at 18:41:16.

 


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