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Author Topic: Ghosts of the Past  (Read 19953 times)

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Offline revanne

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #150 on: January 11, 2018, 04:59:28 pm »
The nunnery gatekeeper had not been entirely honest with Darcy. He, like the majority of the townsfolk, was very protective of the nunnery and its sisters. Though it was nigh on half a century ago, the memory of Ithel's ravaging of the holy women and their home was seared into the town's memory. The gatekeeper had his own reasons too. He had run, half -crazed with worry to fetch the Infirmarian when screaming in agony his wife had seemed unable to birth their last child and the midwife had despaired. The nun's very presence had seemed to restore hope and bring peace and though the child had breathed just long enough to be baptised he had not lost his wife nor his older children their mother. Besides he had taken a dislike to the man. He did not begrudge the lady her care but her serving man should know his place better than to start making demands. And if they were bringing trouble to the nunnery or to the town then the whole pack of them could be off. When Kieran had come enquiring after the same lady he had heard a worrying tale for a man who liked a quiet life.

He had not lied - quite - simply failed to tell Darcy that the priest he spoken of had already been admitted some time before.

  *************************************************************

Columcil had waited to make sure that Washburn was asleep then, charging Kieran to watch over him, he made his way up the main street of the town to the nunnery gate reaching it just as the bell began to clang for evening prayer. He stopped short as some disaster seemed to happen to the bell, but when there were no further indications of alarm he knocked at the closed gate and waited. The gatekeeper had been suspicious at first when he requested access to the infirmary but the sight of Columcil's well-worn prayer book had reassured him and he agreed to fetch the Infirmarian who at first seemed to misunderstand the reason for his visit.

"Thank you, Father, but we have our own priest and besides the lady will, please God, live many more years before she has need of the last rites."

Columcil bowed courteously to her before replying with as much truth as seemed wise before the gatekeeper. "There were four of us, including the lady and myself, travelling together for safety when we were attacked outside the town walls. I beg you to let me at least see that she rests quietly." She looked intently at him for a moment then beckoned him to follow. As they entered the room where Aliset slept he spoke quietly to the nun, "Sister, I see that you have tended her well but I beg that you will not take it amiss if I say that God has granted me the grace of healing in my hands." He was taking a risk he knew in saying this, but he could not see that there was any choice. His heart told him that the dangers they faced were far from over and the Lady Aliset must be fully recovered this night.

The nun looked at him intently again, and then smiled. "The lady is in no danger, otherwise I would have healed her. But like you, I am wary still of using my talents before outsiders. The townsfolk accept me with gratitude, most of them, but those who hold with the old Mearan ways..." Her voice tailed off as though she had already said too much and she spoke briskly. "It would not be seemly for me to leave you alone with her and I daresay you would value my prayers." She walked with him to the bed where Aliset lay and dropped to her knees, her lips moving in the words of the evening office.

Columcil crossed himself once again and placed his hands over the linen dressing bound across Aliset's shoulder. He focused his gaze on the unadorned crucifix which hung on the wall at the head of the bed and entered into trance once again aware of the hands which for an instant covered his. (( dice roll 6+5 5qfmvw68n0)). Aliset's breathing deepened and she settled into an easier sleep. Glancing down at the kneeling nun he saw that she was smiling with relief at him. "Thank you, Father, from both of us. I think it would be more seemly if I check the wound but I make no doubt that she is healed, praise God. Will you rest now, our priest lives just over the way and would, I am sure, be pleased to give you a bed for the night."

Columcil was sorely tempted but shook his head. "Praise God indeed but I must return to another of our company at the gatehouse. I leave her in good hands." The Infirmarian got to her feet and led him quietly from the room through a door opposite to the one through which they had entered and across a small courtyard, full of the evening scent of flowers, to a gate in the wall. You can leave through here Father, it's the gate the townsfolk use when they need my ministrations. God be with you."

"And with your spirit." Father Columcil replied before following the wall as it led round behind the nunnery buildings and eventually back to the main street. As he walked wearily towards the gatehouse he was shocked to see that the door stood open. Worse still, when he entered neither Kieran nor Washburn were there. Sinking to the floor he sat with his head in his hands and realised that he was too exhausted to get to his feet. Several days hard riding, a warding and an exorcism followed by a desperate chase and three healings had taken their toll. He attempted the fatigue banishing spell which he had seen others do but either he was not sufficiently skilled or just too tired (( dice roll 2+4 =6 5qfmvw68n0)) . He rolled himself in his cloak, put his head on his pack and slept.




"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God...The Word became flesh and dwelt amongst us and we have seen His glory, full of Grace and truth."
Prologue to John's Gospel

Offline Laurna

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #151 on: January 12, 2018, 03:36:11 am »
“Coward”  Wash swore under his breath. He sat in the dark corner next to the convent gates that were closed to him. He hit his head back against the wall in his shame. There were four men in town, who wanted him dead. What did he do? He sulked away like a coward. What kind of knight of the realm did that? Not one that King Kelson relied on. Not one that Kelric would call brother. Not one that Alaric would call son. Alaric Morgan, Gwynedd’s champion,--the thought brought Wash to standing--how much humiliation would his father have endured if he had been alive and he had learned of his son’s cowardice.

Wash tried to use reason, that if they could not find him, they would cause no harm. Yet, yet, what of the man who had helped him? What of the guardsman Kieran? What if he walked in on the four of them searching the gate house. Searching but not finding what they were after. If Kieran started asking questions would they harm him. Wash knew the answer, it was yes! Dangerous men did heinous crimes when they had misguided loyalties and no honor.

“Think, damn you,” Wash said to himself as he demanded his tired body to move toward the gates. He didn’t hurt anymore, not like he had. What he felt was weakness and exhaustion. “Think, you don’t have to do this alone,” he said aloud. There are armed men at the gate, very close to the gate house. Get them to help capture the four. Then you won’t have to worry for the heir de Mariot’s safety come morning when the nunnery gates opened.

He gave one last bang on the convent gate. “You keep this gate closed, do you hear me!” he yelled out. “Lord Morgan demands that you protect the lady within! Let no harm come to her!” He got no reply.

To gather strength he attempted a second banishing fatigue spell (( 2d6 rolled 1-4 failure. Verification Number: 9kr91l8r8c)) Magic abandoned him again. 

Fine, he had to do this out of shire will.  He started off at a walk down the main street. His downhill pace increased to a jog, his jog increased to a run. How much harm could the four men have done in the quarter hour since he last saw them.  Sword brandished, he was about to find out.
« Last Edit: January 12, 2018, 11:01:28 pm by Laurna »

Offline revanne

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #152 on: January 12, 2018, 09:14:44 am »
"Crash!". The door to the gate house was slammed back and Columcil woke. He got to his feet, still clutching his staff which he had held against his body as he slept. He had learnt the value of knowing how to wield a stout stick as a studious lad growing up amidst the fierce Transha clansmen and he had continued to practise his mastery of it. The wild beasts of the remoter parts of his parish could not all be soothed with a gentle mind touch and not all outlaws or bandits had respect for his cloth.

Warily he stood with his back to the wall facing the door as two unknown and rough looking men entered with plain but very dangerous looking swords. They looked at him as though they had expected to see someone else but to his surprise made no move to attack. They moved instead to either side of the door where they stood with swords drawn, keeping wary and warning eyes on Columcil the while. Two more men came in dragging between them a man who looked as though he had taken a vicious beating to the head. To his horror as the victim was flung down savagly onto the floor Columcil recognised him as Kieran.

"You lied! This is no young lord," spat one of the men, looking contemptuously at Columcil and kicked the prone man hard. Columcil winced loudly and immediately knew he had made a bad mistake. The man who had spoken smiled evilly. "A priest, he'll do even better! He'll tell us all we want to know." Columcil braced himself and took a firmer hold of his staff but none of the men made a move towards him. Instead the previous speaker, who was clearly the leader snarled to his companions, "hold him firm!" and  they spread-eagled Kieran on his back, two of them forcing his hands away from his head while the third lay across his legs. The leader took out a sharp dagger and leant over Kieran, who said nothing but whose eyes sought Columcil's pleadingly. "A simple choice, Father. Answer what we ask with the truth and he dies easily. Otherwise...". His voice trailed as he slowly drew the point of the dagger down Kieran's arm slicing open a deep cut.

Columcil barely knew what he was doing. He swung his staff at the back of the torturer's head ((dice roll advantage for weapon's mastery 4+3+5 = 12 2271k6hrnx - remembered this time)) and felt a moment of unpriestly exultation as the man keeled over, knocked clean out of his senses. The dagger flew from his hand and Columcil felt renewed respect for Kieran as the prone man made a grab for it as those holding him let go and scrambled to their feet, reaching for their own weapons. He muttered the words of absolution, praying that God would accept them for himself and Kieran and hoped fervently that they could both meet a quick death.
« Last Edit: January 12, 2018, 10:54:40 am by revanne »
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God...The Word became flesh and dwelt amongst us and we have seen His glory, full of Grace and truth."
Prologue to John's Gospel

Offline Jerusha

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #153 on: January 12, 2018, 10:10:52 am »
Darcy Cameron jumped to his feet at the sound of the pounding on the Nunnery’s gate.  Finally! It must be Father Columcil.

The gatekeeper, who had come out of his small house at the noise, listened and then turned away.

“If that is the priest, you need to let him in,” Darcy said urgently as he reached the gate.  “Ask the Reverend Mother if you must, but the lady needs him.”

‘It’s no concern of yours,” the gatekeeper stated, disdain in his voice.  “Besides, your priest has been and gone already.”

Darcy had had enough.   He grabbed the gatekeeper’s shirt with both hands and cracked the gatekeeper’s head against the solid gate.  ‘Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Let go of me!  Who do you think you are?”

“I’m a ship’s officer and the lady’s man-at-arms,” Darcy snarled.  “if it wasn’t the priest at the gate, who was it?”

The gatekeeper did not like the look in the smaller man’s ice blue eyes.  Sailors could be a mean lot.  He could think of no danger to the Nunnery if he revealed what he had heard.

“It was someone called himself Lord Morgan.  He demanded we keep the gate shut and protect the lady within.”

Darcy let the man go. Sir Washburn!  What was afoot? What additional danger had he discovered?  If the knight wanted the gate kept closed, he must fear an attack, or at least a forced entry.

The small altercation at the gate had brought forth several of the nuns, including the Reverend Mother.  She did not look pleased.  “What is going on here, Simon?”

Simon the gatekeeper bowed.  “This man demanded to know who was knocking on the gate.”

Darcy bowed in turn to the Reverend Mother.  This was not the time to be subtle.  “The man at the gate was Sir Washburn Morgan. He also escorts the lady we bought into your convent for treatment.  I believe he fears someone will try to take the lady by force.  We need to prepare.”

“I will not permit violence again within these walls,” she replied.

“In truth, I’d prefer to avoid that myself,” Darcy admitted.  “How many men are here with you?”

“Three:  Simon our gatekeeper, our steward, and another man who assists us with heavy labour.”

Simon might do.  The steward was well past his fighting prime. The labourer was an unknown.  Darcy was sure they would be too few.  He had to keep Lady Aliset safe, but he could not let harm come to the nuns.

Darcy made his decision.  “We should summon the Watch.”

“Your knight said to keep the gates closed.  You can’t send someone for the Watch, and you can’t let them in,” Simon reminded him.

“No, we can’t, but we can alert them to the danger, and they can be additional protection outside the gate.”  Darcy eyed the bell tower.  He looked at the Reverend Mother, who thought for a moment and nodded her ascent.

The church bell rang loudly, causing alarm in the town at this unaccustomed hour.
From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night...good Lord deliver us!

 -- Old English Litany

Offline Laurna

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #154 on: January 12, 2018, 04:21:58 pm »
The church bell rang out true. Faces of armed towns folk positioned around the courtyard startled from their lassitude to astute attention. They looked up, they looked at each other, they tightened their grips on their weapons, they curiously watched a tall man in a brown monk’s robe race past them like the devil was on his heels.

Washburn’s eyes weren’t on the town folk, but upon the town’s armed guards standing before the barred main gate. The smaller door to the gate house was beyond them. He could see it just past a mule cart which someone had parked there in the last little while. Ostensibly to block the view of the door from the eyes of the town folk.

“You four! Yes, all of you!” the tall lord demanded of the guardsman, “I am Lord Morgan, son of Duke Alaric Morgan of Corwyn.  Follow me! There is treason afoot!” It was not in Washburn’s nature to make such commands. This was an exception, he put every ounce of authority he could into his order.

The name of his father sparked recognition all around him. The four rushed to follow him, as did every man in the courtyard. Wash jumped over the wagon blocking the way. He landed on the door's first step, pounded the hilt of his sword against the latch, breaking it clean away.  The door swung wide. What his eyes saw before him was far worse than he had expected. Kieran was there, lying on his side on the ground, his hands just grabbing for a dagger on the floor.  One man was leaping to stop him. Even more serious, two men were attacking a man he did not expect to see here.  Damn, he should have known better. Father Columcil stood rigid, staff in defiance before him, an assailant already downed at his feet.

Admirable for a priest, Wash thought as he made a great leap toward the two assailants. His great sword swung from the full strength of his shoulders; both hands grasped the hilt; the swing was low and wide.

((Wash swinging his great sword at the backs of two men. I am rolling twice to see if he hits each one in turn. 2x 2d6  roll= 2& 2 missed, roll 5&4 hit. Verification Number: 7mh24bmljr)) ((oops I forgot I got a 3d6 roll for a mastered weapon, roll 1d6 for the advantaged roll that I missed. rolled 5  hah! Verification Number: 2sg49mldg7))

The closest man witnessed the blade in action; he dropped low to rolled away.  The blade bit him in the shoulder, the sword’s velocity not slowing from the bite. The second man had no notion what hit him. He crumpled as the weapon took him across the waist. His thin leather vest was no match for the sharpness of the steel.

Behind Wash, arms-men jumped into the bloody scene. 

Kieran, whose arm displayed a viscous gash, had the dagger in his hand. He held it firm. He sliced it across the ankle of the man who kicked out at his chest to stop him.

(( who strikes first: Kieran rolled 2+4=7, assailant rolled 2+2=4 Verification Number: 23f76l0v7p))

The guardsman Kieran’s dagger struck the booted foot before the kicker could reached him. (( 2d6 rolled  4&2 Verification Number: 4kcdkmxj6t))  The blade skimmed over the leather, yet it did not penetrate. That same boot continued its momentum  toward guardsman's chest. (( 2d6 rolled  1&3 Verification Number: 533rq6gxl4)) Fortunately, Kieran had the wherewithal and speed to roll aside to be clear of the damage this kick would have wrought.

(( I am late for work, I'll see you tonight. ))
« Last Edit: January 13, 2018, 03:34:59 am by Laurna »

Offline Jerusha

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #155 on: January 13, 2018, 04:39:00 pm »
Loud pounding could be heard at the gate, “What’s wrong?  Why does the bell sound?” a deep voice called.

Darcy Cameron stopped ringing the bell and strode toward the gate.  Simon already stood before it.

“Are you the watch?”  Darcy called out.

“Aye, what’s wrong?”

Darcy looked at Simon.  ‘You know him?”

Simon nodded.  “He’s the watch captain this month.”

“I need,” Darcy began, and sensed the man beside him stiffen. Darcy decided to change his approach.  “We need your help.  We have good reason to believe someone may try to force their way into the Nunnery tonight and try to remove a lady within against her will.  The gates are to remain shut for the night.”  After a brief moment, Darcy added, “The Reverent Mother’s orders.”

“Is this true, Simon?” asked the watch captain.

“Aye,” Simon replied.  Reverend Mother gave me the orders herself.”

“Captain, can you post men outside the gate?  And maybe a few along the wall?” Darcy asked.

“Yes, I’ve good men here” the watch captain replied.  “No one will enter or leave this night.”

Relieved, Darcy nodded to Simon and turned back to the courtyard.  The Reverend Mother stood before him, hands in the sleeves of her habit.  An attendant sister stood to one side.

“We are secure, Master Darcy?” the Reverend Mother asked.

“As well as we can be for now.  Reverend Mother, if something does go wrong, may I suggest you and the sisters relocate to the church?”

The nun before him eyed him carefully.  “It has not always been a safe refuge,” she said.

“Perhaps not,” Darcy agreed.  “But is would put you all in a spot we can defend.” 

“If the time comes,” she said gravely.  “I shall consider it.”

Darcy felt an odd relief that she had not said “when.”

A familiar figure was standing not far away.  Lady Aliset!  The infirmarian stood at her side.

“Lady Aliset, are you alright?” Darcy asked as he approached.

“I am fine, though still a bit tired. Father Columcil was here, but stayed only a short time.”

“So I’m told,” Darcy said dryly as he rose from a quick bow.  He explained what had happened to cause the current situation.

‘Lady Aliset,” Darcy began carefully.  “If the situation becomes dire, I’d like for you to join the sisters in the church."

“Master Darcy, I am not helpless, as you well know.”  She patted the dagger that hung once again from the belt of her monk’s robe.

“That I do, which is why I would like you with the sisters.” Darcy gave her a hopeful look.  “Perhaps you and the infirmarian could join the other sisters now?”

The infirmarian shook her head.  “I must prepare the infirmary in case there are injuries.”

“I’d be happy to assist you, Sister Margaret, if that would be alright,” Aliset said.

‘Yes, we’ll be that much better prepared.”

Darcy did not argue.  His respect for the nuns was growing, and he could tell that Aliset’s mind was made up.

“We’ll also make sure the back gate to the infirmary is locked,” Sister Margaret added.

“Back gate?  Why does no one think to tell me these things?” Darcy blurted out.

“Probably because you never ask anyone, Master Darcy.”  Aliset smiled slightly at the puzzled look on her man-at-arms’ face.  “But first I should introduce myself to the Reverend Mother, and thank her for all she and the sisters have done.  They risk much for us.”

“Simon!” Darcy called as Lady Aliset walked away.  The man looked at him but did not move.  Darcy sighed.  “A moment, if you please.”

Simon joined him and they moved into the infirmary.  “There is another gate here?”

“Aye.  The townsfolk use it when they need Sister Margaret’s help.”

“So most of the town knows about it.”  Darcy sighed again.  “Simon, show me this gate: I’d like you to guard it.”

Simon led them through a small courtyard to the back gate.  Darcy checked to make sure it was secure and left Simon beside it.  Simon was armed with a short sword.  Darcy hoped the man would not need to use it.

“Where will you be?” Simon asked.

“Anywhere and everywhere.  If anything seems wrong or suspicious, sing out and I’ll come at once.”

“Very well,” Simon said.  He took up his post and kept a hand near the hilt of his sword.

Darcy turned to leave and paused.  “Thank you.”

From the covered walk, Darcy surveyed the Nunnery grounds.  The watch was posted outside.  The labourer, who turned out to be large and substantial, was posted at the gate.  The steward drifted about, checking things here and there.  Simon was at the back door.  Most of the nuns had followed the Reverend Mother into the chapter house.  Lady Aliset, the infirmarian and another sister were preparing the infirmary.  There was nothing more he could think of to do to prepare.

All he could do now was remain alert and wait.

(Edited to be accurate with revanne's description of the courtyard and gate.)
« Last Edit: January 15, 2018, 08:55:56 am by Jerusha »
From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night...good Lord deliver us!

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Offline Evie

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #156 on: January 13, 2018, 07:28:52 pm »
Aliset was glad for the task at hand, glad she could lend her efforts in aid of the good sisters who had taken her into their protection, and grateful for the sense of control over her circumstances that the opportunity to do something--anything--helpful had afforded her.  She was still a little weary, for though she had managed some sleep, it had not been quite as much as she would have preferred under the circumstances, but if there was a chance the convent was to become the focus of an attack, she could hardly be such an ingrate as to ignore the threat of danger to go back to her sickbed! At least her shoulder injury had been Healed, and that was the important thing.

The thought brought to mind Father Columcil, who had left her bedside almost as suddenly as he'd shown up to her aid, gone God alone knew where.  Hopefully back to Sir Washburn's side.  Master Darcy seemed to have things well in hand helping the other men prepare to build up the convent's security.  Aliset sighed. When they'd arrived at the gates of the convent town, her hope was that they'd leave their cares outside its walls for at least a day or two, giving them some time to heal and recover from their injuries, revitalize their energies, and put their heads together to come up with some sort of an escape plan. But no, practically from the moment they'd arrived, her companions had scattered seemingly to the four winds!  Annoyance welled up in her.  How very much like men they were, wandering apart and dashing hither and yon acting all heroic rather than sticking together and covering each other's backs like sensible folk! She stifled a laugh as the irony dawned on her.  Of course they were acting like men, daft creatures!  They were men!  She just hoped, under the circumstances, that all their dashing about wouldn't get them killed, and especially not on her behalf.  After losing her father and her brothers so recently, she didn't think she could bear any more losses.  Not for her sake.  For the safe of Gwynedd remaining an intact kingdom, mayhap, should that become needful, but even losing any of them for so noble a cause would cut deeper than any sword. She'd grown curiously attached to the lot of them in the past few days, even though keeping up with them right now seemed to be more useless than attempting to herd cats.

But preparing an infirmarium for incoming casualties was something she was willing and able to do. Her mother had trained her well for such contingencies, for one never knew when one's manor lands might come under attack by reivers, and such outlaws did not always stick to stealing livestock. As she worked, cutting linen into strips for use as bandages and rolling them in preparation for use, she diverted her thoughts from the mindless task and cast out with her mind to see if she could detect the presence of any enemies nearby.
((2d6, 2 and 4, V#jmfpn5phrb))  For better or for worse, she could not. Hopefully that simply meant that there was no one close by who wished her ill, not that some unseen foe lurked nearby, cloaked from her senses, but alas, Aliset had no way of knowing.
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Offline Laurna

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #157 on: January 14, 2018, 12:33:08 pm »
((See notes from "How things work"))
((Initiative tests for NPC's who have not attacked yet: we have: 6. thug 3 rolled: 1:4 + 3 = 7     8.Thug 4 rolled 2: 2 + 3 = 5. and 7. first guard to make it into the room behind Wash 3: 2 + 4 = 6.
(The last three guards following will not be in the fight unless it continues to the end of the next full round.)
Roll for attacks:Thug 3 he was moving first and attacking Culumcil in front of him. rolled 6 Verification Number: 1tnckzk5vx  Hit
                       Guard 1 attacking closest bad guy, that would be thug 4.  rolled 5 Verification Number: 23vskfdxwb  Hit
                       Thug 4 has 0 hit points left.))

The street thug took the shoulder wound with a viscous growl.  The tall lord with his deadly sword was far more than he wanted to contend with. No, not that sword. But the priest? He was in range, he only had a staff, granted it was a mean staff, but the thug had a sword. Damn if he was going to use it before they took him down.  And use it he did. He lunged at the priest making a viscous swing,  he was low, the strength of his arm was strong, more desperate than he ever remembered attacking before. It hit the priest in the thigh. A good solid bit. The thug felt the exhilaration of success.

The first guard to follow the young lord named Morgan was there ready to jump into the fray.  The man closest to him was the man hunched over, garbing his side after Morgan's attacking blade. His back was clearly open, an easy mark for a guardsman trained to do battle. The guard's sword was in hand, his swing was good. His blade came down hard across the street thug's back. As the street thug crumpled to the floor, the guard recognized the man's face. These men were the bad-blood that hassled the merchants in town. He had wanted to take them down for a long time, but had no reason to do so until now.

The motion in the room did not still. The biggest bully thug at Culumcil's feet was stirring, his pray was wounded, he would be pleased if he could add to the Priest's pain.

((restart the order of fighting that I listed in How some of this works, listing hit points remaining next to name:    1.Lead bully 1hp  2. Columcil 5hp. 3. Washburn 6hp. 4. Kieran 1ph 5. 2nd thug hitting Kieran 2hp. 6. 3rd thug, 1hp. 7. guard 1 3hp, then the other three guards,3hp each, if the fight persists, which I doubt.))
« Last Edit: January 14, 2018, 02:18:26 pm by Laurna »

Offline Laurna

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #158 on: January 14, 2018, 12:54:55 pm »
(( Revanne can you roll for the bully thug, then roll for your own attack. Please if you would hold your Healing until Wash can be at your side. That is if you are willing to try and show a young lord how you use your gift. That is also if your are willing for forgive your forum friend Laurna for her bad luck with the dice. :-[))
« Last Edit: January 14, 2018, 01:44:00 pm by Laurna »

Offline revanne

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #159 on: January 14, 2018, 03:57:43 pm »
((Thug 1 2d6 roll 2+6=8 1dxf56665m (hmm that treble 6 is sinister)))
((Columcil 3d6 roll 5+4+4 =10 185d19g76t))

Columcil reeled backwards the pain shooting through his thigh like the touch of red hot metal. He lurched against the wall and put his hand back behind him to steady himself. There was no time for a healing even supposing that he could gain the necessary focus. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment willing himself to dispel the faintness that was threatening. He whispered a quick prayer of thanksgiving that Sir Washburn had returned in time and, please God, with enough help. Even as he thought this he was reminded that the fight was not yet over. A blade sliced up the inside of his calf and, his eyes bursting open, he saw that the man he had felled with his staff had revived enough to seek revenge. Sliding along the wall away from his assailant, the pain driving everything but thoughts of his own survival from his head, he swung his staff again and heard a sickening crunch as the man's skull cracked. The thug collapsed and lay still. Columcil sank to the ground and bundled his cloak against the wound in his thigh hoping to slow the bleeding.
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God...The Word became flesh and dwelt amongst us and we have seen His glory, full of Grace and truth."
Prologue to John's Gospel

Offline Laurna

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #160 on: January 14, 2018, 04:43:11 pm »
 Hell and Damnation!

"Columcil!" Washburn yelled. The priest was hit, not once but twice. The older man crumpled against the wall, hands on his leg. Redness quickly staining his robes. The street thug who had attacked the priest first was still standing. As was the man standing near Kieran. Both men looked in need of his help, they were too far apart to hit both with one swing of his great sword. Sir Washburn balance on his heels and swung strong at the man before Columcil. ((3d6 3,4,&2 Verification Number: 33dlszmbzq. What have I said all along, the dice hate me!)) A masterful dodge came from the enemy. Wash had rage in his veins as he made a cut back, using all his body's force into the blade's momentum. ((3d6 4,4,&3 Verification Number: 36gfp7d78q. I think I am going to go cry into my sewing project now)) The blade whizzed just over the man's head as he rolled far away to the far side of the room, thankful that sword had not cut him again.

 :'( :'( :'( :'( :'(
((Can someone else roll for Kieran, I would end up being his demise if I rolled.))
« Last Edit: January 14, 2018, 04:46:06 pm by Laurna »

Offline revanne

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #161 on: January 14, 2018, 05:48:22 pm »
Kieran had at first lain still, rolling aside to avoid his attacker had made his head swim with renewed pain from the savage beating he had received. As his head cleared a little, though the throbbing in his arm was beginning to really pain him, he looked around. He saw the good father hit once, no twice. Though he was lashing out with his staff his hands were not made for combat, thought Kieran. No, he was a man of God and a healer too. This was wrong, and Kieran's thoughts flashed back to the horrors he had seen as a child inflicted on the good sisters. Kieran balanced the dagger in his hand and determined that if he must die he would take one of the traitors with him. He saw the young lord swing his sword - he was a good fighter but somehow his opponent dodged and Kieran threw his dagger with all his strength at the twisting back, ((1d6 3 2wdm3knvrs  >:( )) but his strength was failing and the weapon fell short. His intended victim swung round, picked up the dagger and with a cruel grin drew it across Kieran's throat ((1d6 6 295mlntgf7)). Kieran's eyes sought those of Father Columcil who despite his own increasing pain and horror made the sign of the cross, again mouthing the words of absolution watched by Kieran's agonised gaze. Then his eyes glazed over and his spirit was gone.

((possibly not what you had in mind, Laurna.  :'( :'( :'( - we might need some help down here.))

((modified because I had forgotten that the thug slit up Kieran's arm not his leg))
« Last Edit: January 15, 2018, 03:11:48 pm by revanne »
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God...The Word became flesh and dwelt amongst us and we have seen His glory, full of Grace and truth."
Prologue to John's Gospel

Offline Evie

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #162 on: January 14, 2018, 11:37:06 pm »
((I would add a scene, but I am quite thoroughly lost as to who is still left standing and attacking whom, and with how many hit points left.  LOL!  But don't we have three guards who ought to be showing up at any moment now to put an end to any thugs left standing?))
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
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Offline Laurna

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #163 on: January 14, 2018, 11:46:45 pm »
((Next turn, Guard 1 3hp. He is already in the fight and ready to swing.  Guard 2, Guard 3, and Guard 4 have arrived in the room just in time to see their friend, a man whom they likely admired, taken down.  The bad guys are: Thug 2 who just took out Kieran, who still has 2hp, and Thug 3 who has 1hp remaining, and had just injured Columcil.
Be my guest to make an end of this, so Wash can help Columcil.  My personal need to see people well and healed is coming through. ))

[Edited to add double parentheses since this isn't actually a story scene.--Evie]
« Last Edit: January 14, 2018, 11:58:15 pm by Laurna »

Offline Evie

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Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Reply #164 on: January 15, 2018, 12:12:22 am »
((LOTS of loud cursing because I just did a metric crap ton of dice rolling to set up the scene I was about to write, only to accidentally close the tab and lose all of the stuff I copied and pasted into it! Arrrggghhh!!! Let me see if I can look in my email and salvage all of that roll info.  :(  ))
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

 

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