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Bastards & Broadswords Origen's D&D 5E campaign.

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  #11  
Old 12-27-2013, 11:13 PM
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Originally Posted by Origen View Post
Rooker, you wait your turn in the line. Most are dismissed. Some are invited to cut on wooden dummies or spar with blunted swords. Even many of these are dismissed.

Finally, you find yourself standing in front of Morgana. She notes your staff, and your lack of armor.

"You move in a warrior's way," she says, taking a bite out of a leg of roast chicken. "But you don't wear a warrior's armor, or carry a warrior's weapons. Are you a dishonored knight? Or did someone steal your gear?"
Rooker bowed before responding.

"Neither. I prefer to fight as unencumbered as possible. If I am my own weapons and armour, then I am never disarmed or vulnerable. A staff is simple enough to find anywhere, and a useful tool besides. I believe that this would make me an asset on this voyage, as I have little to weigh me down."
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  #12  
Old 12-27-2013, 11:18 PM
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Originally Posted by Paulypalooza View Post
Once on board he approached the troll that served as first mate. Gronk felt the half dozen or so weapons were overkill meant to impress the new recruits. Not for practicality. Gronk adjusted his armor so that handles of his war hammer and bastard sword on his back in a criss-cross fashion were clearly visible to the monster.

Gronk spoke in troll. "Nice gauntlets. Good for crushing bone."
"Aye," says Mog, also in Troll. "Pulling fresh meat apart, bare fingers better."

He smiles a toothsome, wretched smile, and flexes his huge, four-fingered hands with claws at the end.
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  #13  
Old 12-27-2013, 11:53 PM
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Rooker bowed before responding.

"Neither. I prefer to fight as unencumbered as possible. If I am my own weapons and armour, then I am never disarmed or vulnerable. A staff is simple enough to find anywhere, and a useful tool besides. I believe that this would make me an asset on this voyage, as I have little to weigh me down."
Morgana takes another bite of her chicken leg.

"You," she says, gesturing toward the next man in line. He is a large warrior with a bastard sword slung across his back. He wears chainmail armor. "Take a sparring sword from the rack. I've never seen an unarmed man against a man with a sword.

"Let's see your worth, unarmed warrior. There is one slot left, after we hired our ship's surgeon. One of you will fill it. The other will be carried out, or shown the door, depending on how badly he is beaten."
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  #14  
Old 12-28-2013, 04:02 AM
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Rooker shrugged off his pack and quiver, taking off his coat in almost the same motion, depositing it all in a neat bundle at his feet. He set his staff down as well. He regarded his opponent as he jogged over to grab a sparring sword. A wooden training weapon wouldn't cut or pierce, but could still bruise, break bone, and even kill. The man took up a stout wooden sword, spun it forward and back, then pivoted, bringing the weapon around in a whistling, cross-body cut. He nodded, satisfied, then strode over the duelling circle.

"Come, boy. I will send you to sleep quickly."

His bravado was not unearned -- he moved well, with coordinated grace and power. The wooden bastard sword was large, but he handled it one-handed with no discernible effort and no small amount of speed and power. The chain mail did not seem to encumber him unduly either. Rooker nodded a bow and came over to the circle. The moment he set foot inside of it, his opponent sprang forward, his battle-cry shattering through the pedestrian buzzing of the square and calling all eyes and attention to the fight. As he darted forward, the sword seemed to lag back a moment, only to be tugged along by the tether of his arm, yanked forward and swung around in a diagonal downward arc by an almost fully-extended arm. Had Rooker reacted by trying to dodge backwards, he would almost certainly suffered a broken clavicle, at a minimum.

He did not.

As fast as his opponent was, Rooker moved faster -- he blurred forwards, left arm extended, thumb driving into the swordsman's ulnar nerve, buzzing numbing lightning down his arm and turning off his fingers. Rooker collided with his foe, hip-checking him backwards as his right arm dipped down, then lashed forward in a backfist that drove knuckles into the meat of his triceps --- this completed the work begun by his thumb, sending the practice sword spinning off as if thrown deliberately. To the onlookers, it appeared as if Rooker moved forward and somehow displaced the swordsman, who was sent sprawling. Despite this, though, he didn't stop moving, rolling as he hit the ground and coming back to his feet with creditable swiftness, as he shook his arm. He opened his mouth, beginning to utter either curse or congratulations, but his words disappeared into a gusting exhalation as Rooker's shin thudded home into his gut, folding him in half. Rooker slammed his elbow down on his foe's now-exposed mastoid process in a swift blow, leaving him face down and unconscious in the sand.

He turned to face Morgana.

"Well, Captain?"
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Last edited by Chimaera; 12-28-2013 at 03:00 PM.
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  #15  
Old 12-28-2013, 11:34 AM
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Originally Posted by Chimaera View Post
He turned to face Morgana.

"Well, Captain?"
"That's the first time I'd ever belittle a man of bringing a sword to a fist fight," said Morgana. "Looks like we've filled that last slot. Mog? Carry our meaty unconscious man outside, and stay with him until he wakes up. No sense letting someone rob him blind just because he doesn't know how to swing that thing."

She threw the chicken wing aside, and stood, dusting off her hands.

"Okay, you maggots. The winds are up, and I've had enough of this port."

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Originally Posted by Rhakir View Post
Malek approached the fire-haired captain and her gruesome first mate respectfully, neither too eager to appear obsequious, nor too hesitant to be considered weak-willed. He presented himself confidently as he studied both, keeping a sensible arm-and-a-half's length away from the draugen.

"I am Malek," he rumbled when they acknowledged him. His bald head shone brightly in the morning light, and the loose ends of the scarf covering his jaw fluttered in the wind. He wore a simple sleeveless leather jerkin that freed up his heavily muscled arms and shoulders. His whip and daggers were evident on his belt, and the bastard sword was slung across his back for ease of movement, but he kept his thumbs hooked on either side of his heavy belt buckle.

"I've signed on for Lord Starhawk's expedition, but I wish to pay my respects, captain.
Morgana nodded.

"You've already been vetted, Malek. I know all ladies are supposed to love flowers, but I've never been fond of them myself. All I ask is that if you say any men with a bounty on their heads amongst these riff raff, you keep that to yourself until we return. Agreed?"

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Originally Posted by Rhakir View Post
I'm no sailor yet, but I know the use of ropes and knots, and am no stranger to hard work. I am at your service." He met their eyes evenly for a moment, but bowed his head respectfully to show he meant no challenge or defiance.
"Many of the tasks on a ship can be done by a trained monkey," said Morgana. "The trick is knowing when to do them, and in what order. If you have a sharp mind and a ready ear, you'll learn quick."
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“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - John Steinbeck, East of Eden

"Be orderly in your life, and ordinary like a bourgeois, in order to be violent and original in your works." - Gustave Flaubert

Last edited by Origen; 12-28-2013 at 11:56 AM.
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  #16  
Old 12-28-2013, 12:16 PM
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Originally Posted by Origen View Post
"You've already been vetted, Malek. I know all ladies are supposed to love flowers, but I've never been fond of them myself. All I ask is that if you say any men with a bounty on their heads amongst these riff raff, you keep that to yourself until we return. Agreed?"
"Aye, captain," Malek rumbled. He resisted the urge to chuckle about the flowers; the thought never entered his mind. The fire-haired woman seemed to have a sense of humour at least.

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"Many of the tasks on a ship can be done by a trained monkey," said Morgana. "The trick is knowing when to do them, and in what order. If you have a sharp mind and a ready ear, you'll learn quick."
"Aye, captain," he repeated and bowed respectfully.
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  #17  
Old 12-28-2013, 12:36 PM
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Originally Posted by Origen View Post

"You've already been vetted, Malek. I know all ladies are supposed to love flowers, but I've never been fond of them myself. All I ask is that if you say any men with a bounty on their heads amongst these riff raff, you keep that to yourself until we return. Agreed?"
At the word bounty Gronk's head quickly spun to look at Malek. He started to reach for his sword to kill him like so many others whom had hunted him before. Then he remembered the troll.

If he attacked now Morgana's first mate would no doubt intervene. Gronk had dealt with one before barely defeating it. The way their wounds stitched themselves made them more than an able opponent and not one he cared to try again.

Gronk left the Troll in mid sentence to talk to Malek. "You know bounty on Gronks head?"
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  #18  
Old 12-28-2013, 01:24 PM
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Originally Posted by Chimaera View Post
Rooker shrugged off his pack and quiver, taking off his coat in almost the same motion, depositing it all in a neat bundle at his feet. He set his staff down as well. He regarded his opponent as he jogged over to grab a sparring sword. A wooden training weapon wouldn't cut or pierce, but could still bruise, break bone, and even kill. The man took up a stout wooden sword, spun it forward and back, then pivoted, bringing the weapon around in a whistling, cross-body cut. He nodded, satisfied, then strode over the duelling circle.

"Come, boy. I will send you to sleep quickly."

His bravado was not unearned -- he moved well, with coordinated grace and power. The wooden bastard sword was large, but he handled it one-handed with no discernible effort and no small amount of speed and power. The chain mail did not seem to encumber him unduly either. Rooker nodded a bow and came over to the circle. The moment he set foot inside of it, his opponent sprang forward, his battle-cry shattering through the pedestrian buzzing of the square and calling all eyes and attention to the fight. As he darted forward, the sword seemed to lag back a moment, only to be tugged along by the tether of his arm, yanked forward and swung around in a diagonal downward arc by an almost fully-extended arm. Had Rooker reacted by trying to dodge backwards, he would almost certainly suffered a broken clavicle, at a minimum.

He did not.

As fast as his opponent was, Rooker moved faster -- he blurred forwards, left arm extended, thumb driving into the swordsman's ulnar nerve, buzzing numbing lightning down his arm and turning off his fingers. Rooker collided with his foe, hip-checking him backwards as his right arm dipped down, then lashed forward in a backfist that drove knuckles into the meat of his triceps --- this completed the work begun by his thumb, sending the practice sword spinning off as if thrown deliberately. To the onlookers, it appeared as if Rooker moved forward and somehow displaced the swordsman, who was sent sprawling. Despite this, though, he didn't stop moving, rolling as he hit the ground and coming back to his feet with creditable swiftness, as he shook his arm. He opened his mouth, beginning to utter either curse or congratulations, but his words disappeared into a gusting exhalation as Rooker's shin slammed home into his gut, folding him in half. Rooker slammed his elbow down on his foe's mastoid process in a swift blow, leaving him face down and unconscious.

He turned to face Morgana.

"Well, Captain?"
[OOC: This wins an Totally Arbitrary DM Writing Award. Once, at any point in the future, you may choose to add +1d6 to a single die roll of your choice. This decision may be made after the die is cast.]
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"The lyf so short, the craft so long to lerne." - Chaucer

“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - John Steinbeck, East of Eden

"Be orderly in your life, and ordinary like a bourgeois, in order to be violent and original in your works." - Gustave Flaubert
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  #19  
Old 12-28-2013, 01:30 PM
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Originally Posted by Paulypalooza View Post
At the word bounty Gronk's head quickly spun to look at Malek. He started to reach for his sword to kill him like so many others whom had hunted him before. Then he remembered the troll.

If he attacked now Morgana's first mate would no doubt intervene. Gronk had dealt with one before barely defeating it. The way their wounds stitched themselves made them more than an able opponent and not one he cared to try again.

Gronk left the Troll in mid sentence to talk to Malek. "You know bounty on Gronks head?"
[OOC] <Facepalm> Did Gronk really just blurt that out in front of everyone?... [/OOC]

Malek turned to face the half-ogre, tilting his head to the side as if trying to figure out how to respond.

"I'm afraid I don't speak that language," the half-orc said patiently. "Was that trollish?" Truth to tell, Malek may not have understood the words, but the way Gronk reacted to the captain casually calling him a bounty hunter gave him a pretty good idea what was said. He willed Gronk to keep quiet and not repeat it in common.

"Captain ordered keep blood-money talk to myself," Malek grunted in orcish, hoping the surprisingly intelligent Gronk might know that language, and that most everyone else wouldn't. "I respect you. I don't want blood-money for you." He waited to see if the half-ogre understood...
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  #20  
Old 12-28-2013, 02:12 PM
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Originally Posted by Rhakir View Post
[OOC] <Facepalm> Did Gronk really just blurt that out in front of everyone?... [/OOC]
OOC: That was suposed to be aside fairly away from everybody else. Guess I fubar-ed that.

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Originally Posted by Rhakir View Post
Malek turned to face the half-ogre, tilting his head to the side as if trying to figure out how to respond.

"I'm afraid I don't speak that language," the half-orc said patiently. "Was that trollish?" Truth to tell, Malek may not have understood the words, but the way Gronk reacted to the captain casually calling him a bounty hunter gave him a pretty good idea what was said. He willed Gronk to keep quiet and not repeat it in common.

"Captain ordered keep blood-money talk to myself," Malek grunted in orcish, hoping the surprisingly intelligent Gronk might know that language, and that most everyone else wouldn't. "I respect you. I don't want blood-money for you." He waited to see if the half-ogre understood...
Gronk changed languages to orc. "Good." he said "If you try to take Gronk, Gronk will crush you and feast on your bones." he finished in a slightly menacing tone that let Malek know he meant every word if it.

Gronk gestured towards the ropes being cast off. "Lets get to work, friend."
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