Situation: The Fellowship has come at last to Black Tarn Hall, only to find an assault by orcs and trolls already underway.
Combat Advantage dice:• Esgalwen 0/0
• Grimbeorn 0/2
• Hathcyn 0/3
Situation Modifiers:• The companions have the initiative.
Physical Modifiers (complications): • N/A
PC/NPC | :+~: | PARRY | :<>: | ARMOUR | :vv: | HOPE | :<3: | END | :-X-: | STANCE | :##: | STATUS |
Esgalwen Grimbeorn Hathcyn Lindwine
| | • 6 ( :-X-: +3) • 4 (:<|: +4) • 7 • 5 | | • 1d (:C|: n/a) • 2d (:C|: n/a) • 2d (:C|: n/a) • 1d (:C|: n/a) | | • 10/14 • 7/12 • 4/13 • 5/16 | | • 0/27 • 21/31 • 15/29 • 8/22 | | Open Open Forward Rearward | | UNCONSCIOUS, WOUNDED normal WEARY, MISERABLE WEARY |
ENEMY | :+~: | PARRY | :<>: | ARMOUR | :@: | HATE | :<3: | END | :csu: | NOTES |
The Troll Cackling orc Rusty-helmed orc Sword-wielding orc Thick-handed orc Red-eyed orc Spitting orc Bloody-shielded orc Reeking orc | | • 5 • 6 • 6 • 4 • 6 • 6 • 6 • 6 • 6 | | • 3d • 2d • 2d • 2d • 2d • 2d • 2d • 2d • 2d | | • 1/5 • 0/3 • 0/3 • 0/3 • 0/3 • 0/3 • 0/3 • 0/3 • 0/3 | | • 0/72 • 0/16 • 0/16 • 0/16 • 0/16 • 0/16 • 0/16 • 0/16 • 0/16 | | DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD |
STANCES:-X-: | Forward - action order 1 Close combat TN 6+ parry Forward Maneuvers (http://rpg.avioc.org/webimages/lotr/tor/forward.jpg) | :-->: | Open - action order 2 Close combat TN 9+ parry Open Maneuvers (http://rpg.avioc.org/webimages/lotr/tor/open.jpg) | :<|: | Defensive - action order 3 Close combat TN 12+ parry Defensive Maneuvers (http://rpg.avioc.org/webimages/lotr/tor/defense.jpg) | :<->: | Rearward - action order 4 Ranged combat TN 12+ parry Must be 2 other PC's in Close Combat; May not use if outnumbered 2:1 Rearward Maneuvers (http://rpg.avioc.org/webimages/lotr/tor/rear.jpg) | :<>: | From any Stance
Escape combat Must start in Rearward or roll TN 10 + highest attribute level of opponents Athletics roll. On success, may safely flee from the scene of combat |
Gear of war, gore, and the slain covered the churned ground. The mists coated everything in a sheen of water like a frost covering all that remained still.
Into this filth fell the strength and beauty of Esgalwen, like a flower trod in hate by the passing of Orcs. Hathcyn had expected that to be his fate, not the Lady of Gondor and Dale. He would not allow the beasts, or the corpses to touch her while breath was left to him.
The ash spear filled his hands and stood poised to strike again if he could. If nothing else perhaps he would buy time for Grimbeorn to triumph even if alone. Blanched of face like the dead around him he tried once more to strike or fall himself into the mire of the Tarn.
Forward Stance
Rolled 1d12 : 3, total 3
Rolled 4d6 : 5, 3, 1, 5, total 14
:ooc: :( Penny, pound, all that.
Hope for a hit.
:ooc: Tom, it seems you are plagued by the dice roller.
I love your post above and it sucks the roller doesn't follow up the bravado that I wanted to see for Hathcyn.
Not knowing whether the lady of Gondor yet lives, Hathcyn's spear at last finds its mark, breaking through the soft skin of the troll's armpit to sink deep in its flesh. The creature's bellow of savage, inarticulate triumph abruptly shifts to one of pain and fear, but it does not fall. Instead, its massive head swings toward the Longspear, who is able to dodge the troll's clumsy attempt at retaliation.
:ooc: The Great Size of the troll is keeping it on its feet, though it's now Weary. Nice hit, Tom!
Doug, if you're hankering to stay involved in the fight, feel free to take over Lindwine.
:ooc: Maaaaaaaaatt? Doooooooouuuug?
Amuse me, player-monkeys!
:ooc: Bow shot on the Troll
TN 17 bow 2d :zz: :00: 1d12 : 12, total 12
Rolled 2d6 : 6, 3, total 9
Lindwine saw the club strike Esgalwen and she cried out in rage and sadness.
NNOOOOO!
The Dúnadan had been her friend from the moment they met, almost like a sister. To her children Esgalwen had been like a loving aunt, and to Lindwine's husband a boon companion. Seeing her body crumple against the ruin of a building made her weep and her breath come short. She reached down again, grasping for the next arrow to be handed up, and quickly nocked it to string.
"Vile beast, I curse you! I curse you all for the blight you have put upon our world and my family! Know my vengeance now!"
The arrow flew with her last words and it struck the thing in the neck, burying itself deep.
:ooc: I have no idea the type of bow, so I do not know damage or protection test difficulties. I leave that to you, Paul.
That is an 18 :g: :%: success!
:ooc: High drama! For future reference, Lindwine's bow is a common or garden model with no special features - :dmg: 5, Edge 10, Injury 14.
With the preliminaries established, let's do a Protection roll!
:00: 1d12 : 2, total 2
Rolled 3d6 : 1, 5, 3, total 9
:ooc: Holy crap, look at that!
I'll add some narrative in as soon as I can.
"Get her out of here! To Radaghast if you can!" cries Grimbeorn. His heart fell like a stone to his feet and it'd go lower if possible upon seeing one of his most dear friends fall. For her and his best friend, this cannot be in vain. Dear the cost has been and he isn't sure all the blood he may spill this day could ever make up for it.
"The troll is down! To the village!" he cries, only barely tamping the fay feeling in his heart that erupted like it did those all too few and yet many from the night at the Carrock.
As Grimbeorn's cry resounds across the confusion and carnage of the battlefield, the troll collapses slowly to its knees, its pale skin becoming yet paler as its blood gushes from its terrible wounds. Nearby, the sound of horns and the beating of axe heads on shields announces the arrival of more of the Stag-horn's warriors and the few remaining orcs begin to flee the wreckage of Black Tarn Hall.
:ooc: More coming. Time is scarce.
Hathcyn planted the butt of hus spear in the ground and drawing deep breaths surveyed the scene around him. Beyond fatigue and past the emotions of the moment he was struck by a crystal clear thought. Even should they win the day the folk of the vales had no power to stop this from happening again. Another town in another place would see this fate. The White Wizard was right, the strength available to them was nkt enough, and this fight made them weaker. The stubbornness of the Firewatcher and his folk unwilling to leave aided in this disaster.
The Wizard was wrong only in that he failed to offer a better way ahead and instead took his viewpoint for fact. They needed a way ahead, they needed more strength and weapons to fight the coming tide.
Hathcyn looked around again and found that he had not planted his spear in the ground, but in the troll. He took deep breaths and tried to focus his tired mind and body. Esgalwen...Grimbeorn....duty..
He stood and feet dragging he went to stand at his station, at the left side of the Wolfslayer.
From the other side of the hall, an outbreak of exhausted jeering nigh masks the voice of the second troll. "Enuff o' this! I'm goin' 'ome!" Loud splashes announce the beginning of its retreat before, for the first time in weeks, the thick mist parts and the sun shines down upon the Black Tarn once again. A loud cheer, and a louder splash, mark the change of the beast to stone in the light and its toppling into the murky water.
Spitefully, balefully, the light in the eyes of the dead shieldmaiden begins to fade. As it does, the voice of that which desecrates her dead flesh speaks its parting words. "Fools you are. Do you not see that your struggle is hopeless? You throw kettles of water upon a wildfire and think that you triumph when a flame is quenched. Against the coming darkness, there can be no victory."