Dark Ages RP- Chapter One- Galuterra

[Prpl_Mage]

With James and Stahn caught up in the fight with Dougal's remains Franklin did his best to occupy the witch. The horrifying beast emitted a comfortable heat but he feared that those flames could scorch his flesh. Franklin held out his blade in front and barred the witch's path towards the torches.

Luckily one of his comrades had heeded his advice with the torches and began putting them out.
"Thanks kind sir!" Franklin said as he threw himself out of the way of the witch and watched Dougal's blade soar a meter from his head.

Since the skeleton was focused on Stahn, Franklin raised his shortsword into the air and chopped against the skeleton's skull. The blade struck and the skeleton stumbled, Franklin grabbed one of the legs but felt an awful chill around his neck.
He had been careless and now found himself at the witch's mercy.

[Charentes]

Iasan awoke to the noise of somebody moving around the chapel.  He was groggy, having fallen asleep in a pew after sampling some communion wine. Iasan sat up. After only an hour or two of sleep he still felt the effects of the wine, but he tried to act as though he’d not been drinking.  He was up just fast enough to see a boy leaving the chapel with some church belongings in his hands.  Slowly getting to his feet Iasan, caught up with the boy, believing him to be stealing from the chapel.  Theft from the church was a grave sin in Iasan’s mind (apparently drinking communion wine without permission was not theft).

As Iasan got to the hallway he called out to the young boy “Hey lad, where exactly do you think you’re going?”

“There’s a witch downstairs, brother, we need holy water” replied the boy with the dirty face. 

Taking one look at the gold plated incense holder, Iasan confirmed his initial suspicion that the boy was a thief.  “Don’t lie to a monk, boy, you were running off to trade chapel property for some sweets and mead.”  Iasan grabbed his ear forcefully, “We’ll see what the guards have to say about this.”

“No really, brother, there’s a witch downstairs, and there are knights that need this holy water to fight her.” the boy stammered, trying to escape from Iasan’s grasp.

“We’ll see about that, I’m taking you downstairs to the guards, and I don’t think I’ll be encountering a witch anytime soon.”

With that Iasan began heading downstairs, with Newt barely able to hold on to the holy water and incense as his ear was being pulled on most painfully.

[NotSoSavvy]

James wheeled away from the recoiling remains of Dougal, catching sight of the witch reaching for Franklin. Relying on Stahn to keep the skeleton occupied, the earl wound up a mighty overhead blow. He could feel the heat radiating off the witch, but he wouldn't let that stay his hand. Even for a creature as pathetic as Franklin was, he wasn't going to condemn someone's soul if he could help it.

But as he swung down, his blade just passed straight through the witch's arm. James bit off a curse and changed tack. Tossing his sword down the hall, James grabbed the front of Franklin's tunic with both hands. After a brief struggle he managed the wrench the other man free of the witch's grasp. For an immaterial being of evil it was quite strong, but not as strong as James' bloody minded tenacity.

Stumbling down the hall with the other man, James tried to think of what to do with the damn witch. If it was flesh and blood, it might be possible to hack it to pieces like the skeleton. But a being of fire? How would you defeat a being of...

The large hanging tapestry in one of the side rooms caught his eye. How did you fight fire when it was too cold for a bucket brigade? You smothered it. "Thornside, help me get that tapestry down!"

[Zerlina]

As Franklin’s blow connected with the skeleton, it cracked slightly, buckling forward. The witch let go a ghastly hiss and at once the knight felt as if hands were tightening on his neck. As James took hold of Franklin and pried him away, the witch let go a terrifying shriek.

“Get him! Get him!” she screamed.

Dougal snapped to attention, trying to escape Stahn’s grip. He barely broke free, moving away from the wall but only just. Bringing up his sword he made a weak thrust, just scraping Stahn’s arm.

----

Iasan pulled Newt by the ear, lecturing him about the great sin of thievery- and the greater sin of thieving from the church.

“Please, I’m not stealing. I’m not-”

“Then what’s your story? Tell me the truth!”

Newt gulped “Well...I’m not a thief, I’m an armorer, the son of the greatest armorer in all the country- off on a secret mission for the king. And there’s a flying witch downstairs, and she’s on fire, and she’s killed a man and turned him to bone, and now he’s got up and is trying to kill two knights, and a warrior from the North Continent. So they sent me up to the chapel to get Holy Water so they can throw it on her.”

“That is the biggest load of manure I’ve ever-”

As they rounded the stairs, Iasan stopped.

“You are forgiven, my son.” the monk said, making a sign over the boy.

“Why do you smell like my uncle after a festival?”

Iasan took hold of the heavy, gold incense holder, swinging it a few times to get a feel for it.

“Greetings, lads.” he said to the others “You look like you could use some heavenly help.”

Newt coughed a few times, suddenly noticing the smoke that poured out from one of the rooms. He placed the remaining holy items down on the floor, taking his handkerchief and wrapping it over his nose and mouth.

“Here!” he cried to the others, indicating the Holy Water and the star. There was only enough for one shot with the water and he wasn’t about to take it.
“And your crossbow and bolts, my lord.” he said, passing the thing to James.

He drew his own sword, then, wondering how on earth he managed to carry so much. He must have gotten stronger since leaving home.







((View rolls:
[SPOILER]Skeleton needed 13+ on a D20 to escape Stahn’s grip, rolled 14.

Blind skeleton needed 4+ on a d6 to hit, rolled 4.
+ Damage roll on a D20, rolled 1
= Extremely weak hit on non-vital area. [/SPOILER]

We won’t be using HP for this particular battle since it’s our first one, please use common sense when RPing your character’s damage. We’ll use HP next time and I will post more detailed battle rules before then...also when I've worked out the concrete mechanics.))

[Prpl_Mage]

Franklin held his neck for a moment and took a deep breath before his saviour - The earl called to him
"Thornside, help me get that tapestry down!"
Franklin pushed himself off the ground and hurried over to the man and helped him rip it down. He was unsure what thoughts went through the Earl's mind at the moment, perhaps he meant to restrain the relentless bones?

He also noticed the return of one of the boys as well as some kind of holy man.

"We'll smother the flames" James said as they moved with the tapestry.
"Shouldn't we perhaps wet it first then?" Franklin asked and looked over at the washbasin dropped on the floor.

[Dragonium]

Stahn felt the icy touch of the blade scraping his left arm, but it was a minor wound. He'd become used to such wounds long ago, to the point where the sting only spurred him on. He'd bind it later. For the moment, he snarled, and took the opportunity to drive his elbow into the skeleton's skull. The jawbone cracked and fell away.

Dougal swayed forward with blade raised, looking more to have lost his balance than to be on the attack. Stahn threw the skeleton back against the wall, and the impact caused him to drop his blade. Now with a frightening ferocity, Dougal swung his empty hand at Stahn, catching him across the face. It was a harder hit than Stahn was expecting, and he was dazed momentarily. He felt anger, a touch of the bloodlust of his youth returning to him, and he swung his right-hand axe hard at Dougal's midsection.

The axe seared through the crushed ribcage and struck the spine, crushing it against the stone wall. The torso teetered forward, breaking off and hitting the floor. Dougal still flailed his bony arms, desperately trying to inflict injury. In response, Stahn took a defiant step forward and drove the heel of his boot into the skeleton's skull. There was a sickening crunch.

Now almost entirely flattened against the flagstones, Dougal's arms still flailed blindly, but his efforts were futile. The witch's gaze shot across to Stahn and she hissed with fury. In an instant some of the tension in the air seemed to dissipate, and what life remained in the ruined bones vanished. The skeleton collapsed to the floor and ceased to move. Stahn bowed his head and muttered, "Thank you for the mead".

He became aware that the witch had rounded on him quickly, moving with pure indignation. He stood his ground defiantly, hoping that the others had by now constructed a strategy.

[Prpl_Mage]

Franklin grabbed a full washbasin and left the room the very moment that Stahns powerful stomp crushed what little life was left out of Dougal's manifestation. Admiration towards the northman and what he accomplished was impossible to hide. Perhaps, just perhaps - this country had more to offer than the smell of animals and food that tasted like it reeked.

Franklin wasted no moment and ran up to James with the washbasin in hand.
"I'm all set Earl, let me know when we strike"

[Zerlina]

"We'll smother the flames" cried James
"Shouldn't we perhaps wet it first then?"

Newt heard the order and ran upstairs, grabbing the wash basins on the third level before returning. He placed them down on the floor next to the Holy Water.

What relief the group felt as the skeleton was felled soon turned to dread as the bones began to shake. It was clear that if they did not kill the witch, Dougal would re-assemble.

Smoke poured out from the burning apartment, making it difficult to see and even harder to breathe.

The witch advanced on Stahn, attempting to strike at him. She missed, letting go a terrible shriek.

((Rolls: [SPOILER]

Skeleton needs 9 to resurrect
Roll(1d12)
3
Total:3
FAIL

Party needs 4+ to not be affected by smoke
(Newt has +1 modifier for covering his mouth and nose)
Roll(1d6)
1
Total:1
FAIL

Witch needs 3+ to hit
Roll(1d6)
1
Total:1
FAIL
[/SPOILER]))

[Charentes]

Seeing Stahn facing off the witch alone, Iasan ran to his side.  “The others are going to wet the tapestry so that we may smother the witch. You and I need to hold her here!” cried Iasan.  With that he looked at the gold incense holder in his hand and began to swing it above his head menacingly.  “God give me strength” he said to himself as he swung at the witch’s body.  The incense holder passed through the witch with little effect, having her only move back slightly.  “Well I hope the others arrive quickly” he said to Stahn.

“Swing it like a man next time” Stahn yelled at him rudely “You spindly armed monk, have you never fought a day in your life?”

“I usually rely on God’s protection, as I am a man of the cloth”

“Well I think it’s clear that the devil, Belial, is watching over us tonight not God”

With that Iasan began to bless his incense holder before winding up for his next strike.

[Dragonium]

Stahn had dealt with monks before, but never one as lively as this fellow. He gathered from the man's accent that he was from Wintrie - it had been his first port of call when leaving the Northlands, and he had picked up the basics of their religion, though it did not appeal to him. The way the man's slight frame exuded confidence told Stahn he was a religious man; his fervent prayer confirmed the suspicion.

Still, he was brave enough to stand in the witch's way. He swung the ornament he'd brought with him feebly, and appeared surprised that the blow had had little effect. Stahn frowned. "Swing it like a man, next time", he said, annoyed, "You spindly-armed monk, have you never fought a day in your life?".

Another religious rebuttal. It seemed religion was the only language this man understood. Stahn recalled what he had learned, and muttered something about what he thought was the "devil" of Wintrie's religion. At this, the monk seemed satisfied.

Stahn frowned as the man began what was seemingly another prayer. He would not begrudge the man his faith - in his younger days Stahn had spent many a battle fuelled by notions of the Northlands' own pantheon of gods, a complex and warlike bunch - but he hadn't survived this long by praying for strength. Strength had to be earned.

He swung at the witch, which hesitated slightly. She was advancing slowly, and even despite being crushed into the stones Dougal was beginning to stir again. The others' tapestry plan, or a distraction by the monk; either would be welcome at the moment.

[NotSoSavvy]

((Holy **** you people post fast O_o))

"Good thinking Thornside." James said, nodding as the other man doused the tapestry. Wool like the stuff this tapestry was made of didn't burn well. But then it was hardly a natural fire they were trying to smother so it was better to err on the side of caution.  Hoisting his side of the tapestry he lead the other man into the hall.

It seemed that Stahn had done something to take out Dougal, good on him. And young Newt had done one better then getting the holy water and found them a monk. Good on him. Perhaps they'd be able to do something aside from immolating themselves now.

"Thornside, when I say 'drop', you drop to the ground." James said, focusing on the witch and the stirrings of Dougal. Without waiting for Franklin's response, the earl charged forward.

James angled on Franklin's side of the monk before angling out to cover more of the corridor. As he did he shouted at Stahn "Duck, man!"

And then he was past Stahn and the witch, and felt a heavy tug as the tapestry caught on something. Without a second though he yelled out "Drop!" and then hit the ground, holding the tapestry under his weight.

[Zerlina]

The damp tapestry fell over the witch. It may as well have been made of iron for the way it held her down. She hissed and struggled, Dougal’s bones mimicking her movement. The room felt colder; as if a large source of heat were removed.

Newt blinked. She wasn’t dead yet. Oh Lord, why wasn’t she dead yet? Then he remembered- two words they had used when they executed a witch in his town. What were those two words?

“Molyus Milikarin...Mofulus Malekaren...?” he tried a few combinations. Why were holy words always so hard to remember?

“Malleus Maleficarum!” a female voice echoed through the halls, and the witch shrieked. In the blackness the warriors could not see who had spoken “Do not forget these words. They were used by our Lord when he extinguished the darkness and brought about day. When she is no longer protected by the elements, these words will make her kind mortal. She is weak now. One blow- hit her with one blow to the heart and it will all be over.”

The voice evaporated as if it were never there. The witch struggled and shrieked, laid bare to her attackers.

[NotSoSavvy]

"Well done men." James said, dusting himself off and standing up. The witch, or ghost, or whatever it was shrieked and writhed but it seemed much weakened then before, leaving them more or less unharmed. But no less bewildered then at the beginning. Collecting his sword, he turned back to the weakened witch. With little sense of ceremony, he set the tip of his sword on the witch's breast and drove it in.

Sheathing his sword with a sigh, he truned to the other to the others. "Now, does anyone have any idea what the hell just happened?"

[Zerlina]

"I don't know." said Franklin "But perhaps we should dwell on this after putting out the room that's on fire."

The men took up the damp tapestry, using it to smother any remaining flames. The piece that had adorned the wall was already turned to ash. Descending the steps, the party breathed a sigh of relief, finally free of the smoke.

"Is everyone sound?" asked the monk.

"It would seem so." James said, somewhat un-enthusiastically.

"Everyone but Sir Dougal." Newt sniffed.

There was a loud clatter and a creak as the door out of the keep was unbarred and opened.

"Oh," said a man in full armour, entering the keep "You are unharmed."

"Why thank you for your timely arrival. And just think, if you had waited another five minutes you would have been able to avoid cleaning up as well." James snapped "And by the way- it is 'you are unharmed, my lord.'"

"I'm sorry, my lord. We received strict orders that any unholy creatures were to be locked away." The guard's eyes darted from one man to the next, observing the ash that stained their clothes and armour "Oh..." he said "Was there a fire?"

Newt drew his sword, but the monk grabbed him by the ear.

"Where is the Lady Agrigola?" Franklin asked, sounding calm despite the situation. He sniffed slightly. Now familiar with the distinct combination of burning wool, alcohol, incense, and corpses, he suddenly found he did not mind the smell of wet sheep so much.

"I..." the captain stuttered "I'm afraid I can't tell you."

"You can't tell us, or you won't?" asked Stahn in his thick Northern accent.

"I...she..."

"I'm afraid my wife has gone to get some rest." Latham interrupted, entering the keep "She was quite hysterical. Fortunately I was...erm...not in my chambers tonight. And was able to put her at ease when she came to find my guards.

I apologize for what you may have experienced. It seems some of my orders were mis-interpreted- it was not at all my intention that you be locked inside. I assure you those who are responsible will be dealt with.

Please, come with me. Let us leave this- who are you again?"

"Brother Iasan of Wintrie." said the monk, shifting slightly.

"My memory is really starting to go..." Latham muttered, leading the men out of the keep.

They travelled down a narrow corridor- the kind that is known to only a select few. As they rounded a bend, Latham opened a small, oak door. He invited the men inside. The ceiling was unusually low, and the floor slightly slanted. In the centre of the room was a table with a few chairs.

"You passed my test." Latham said as the men took their seats "You are truly the warriors that this country needs."

Newt shifted uncomfortably, looking at the older men.

Stahn grunted "You mean to say all of this- the fire, the witch, Dougal's murder and the dream-"

"What dream?" asked Latham.

"It was all a test?" The Northerner repeated.

"All of it."

Franklin looked at the others. Something about this was wrong.

"I wanted to see if you were worth staking our hopes on. Dougal was already dying- he was happy to offer himself as a sacrifice to his homeland and his faith" Latham said, receiving a jug from a servant that entered and promptly left. He poured the men each a cup of wine "What do you say we toast your success?"

[Prpl_Mage]

Franklin was relieved that this was all over. His first defeat over unholy creatures. Witches of fire could get smothered and even the walking dead could be defeated.

But he couldn't let go of the nagging feeling that these basterds didn't deserve the help of anyone. One should never meddle with the forces of darkness, even if to test the saviours of ones country. And even if Dougal was doomed to start with - He couldn't help but to doubt that the man wanted to get so inhumanly broken and left in a hallway.

And then the dream, the dream had come at such great timing - just before Dougal was found. And they said this did not have anything to do with them? And what about those words? The ones he didn't get?

He pushed his feelings inside and watched the other in the room, Latham expected a toast and Franklin would join in even though he had no desire for it whatsoever.