Intro Posts for the Heroes of the Realms

[hedgeknight]

1358 DR – The Year of Shadows

Oggle, Oggle, baby’s bottle!
Oggle, Oggle, baby’s bottle!
Oggle, Oggle, baby’s bottle!

The teasing when he was a child has never left him. Some memories just won’t die – instead they creep in and kick you when you’re down. And Oggle Steambottle has seen his share of the down times.
His clan was the embarrassment of the Dwarves of the Frost Hills. For as long as he can remember, his clansmen were lay abouts and drunkards, never amounting to much at all. Some of the longbeards talked of ancient glory days when they mined precious ore in the mountains and the town of Settlestone was bustling with promise, but those days were long gone – some tragedy or disease occurred and the Dwarves left their mines and came to the surface to drown their sorrows in liquor and beer.
Oggle’s childhood was full of these stories, and the other children of the town, both Dwarven and human, teased and taunted him and made his life miserable, just like their lives were miserable, and so he turned to strong drink at an early age, following in the footsteps (albeit drunken ones) of his forefathers.
All of that changed when the dragon attacked their camp in the hills and ate several of his kin, including many of those teasing children who had grown into obnoxious, mean adults. Why Oggle was spared, he still doesn’t know, but he remembers a visage of a metallic dragon – fierce with claws of steel, fighting and destroying the other dragon; a visage that even strong drink couldn’t erase from his mind.
So, on a whim and with only a handful of coins in his pockets, he left the only place he had ever known and ventured out into the world. He avoided the newly established Mithral Hall, out of shame mostly, but also because he wanted to see more of the Realms than just hole up in another Dwarven compound. He threw in with a caravan traveling the south and ended up in Nesme, and it was there he met a man who would set him on a path of honor, a concept he had never known.
Eregund Wayland was a powerful man and a holy one too. He was the constable and commander of the Riders of Nesme – a large force who were respected and even feared for their battle prowess, known for their endless patrols of the Evermoors. Oggle cleaned up, and applied for the newest recruits of the Riders. He trained hard and suffered many a jibe and jest, but he didn’t give up – the image of the metallic dragon (which he later learned was named Bahamut) bore into his mind, giving him strength. He mastered the sword, and then he mastered fighting with two swords at the same time. He learned concepts such as loyalty and honor and respect, and he earned the comradeship that he had never known.
He was content to live out his life in Nesme – he had friends and he had fought hard to drag himself out of the mud, and there was a patrol venturing out into the hills near Griffon’s Nest in two days and he had been chosen to go. He was so excited, he hardly noticed another Dwarf enter the Five Gold Crowns tavern, and squeeze through the mob of patrons toward his table…

Orn Ragduum was going to die of starvation if he didn’t find a place to eat soon. And how he had ended up in the fortified town of Nesme was something he’ll always wonder about. It had been weeks since he had left Mithrall Hall – left his family and friends, left the forges and the smelts – left it all for something…different, something new. Surely there was more to Dwarves than blacksmithing and mining. He knew there was and he was bound and determined to find out.
His most prized possession was a stolen lute – and that’s a lot to be said about a person when they’d rather starve than sell something that wasn’t theirs to begin with, but that is where he was at the moment. He and that old lute had a lot a great memories – one of the best was playing for the King > Bruenor Battlehammer! You see, Mithrall Hall was only recently “liberated” by King Battlehammer and his companions and Dwarves began flocking to his rule and to the Hall once again. His family traveled all the way from Mirabar to work the mines and forge steel, but it was something Orn never really wanted to do. He wanted to perform – to sing, to play, and to tell tales – to spread Dwarven culture, not with sword and axe, but with song.
And that sentiment got him beat up more than he would care to remember. He was teased and called more names than he had read in books. He even had his fingers stomped and broken once, and he had to stop playing the lute until his hands healed. It was during that period that his Uncle Beorn taught him something he will never forget. He loved his mother’s brother more than just about anyone he knew, and Uncle Beorn told him, “To be a man, ye heart must be divided in two – one half ye set to doing what must be done, the other half ye let run wild and enjoy it! Else ye die bitter and broken with a heart of stone.”
So when his hands healed, Orn split his heart – he learned how to fight and he learned how to let his heart and mind run wild. He studied chants and war songs, delved into Dwarven lore when he could find it, and regaled his friends with battle hymns. This got the attention of the King’s men, and he was invited (along with a dozen others) to perform at a banquet for the King and some of his old companions.
After that night, his clansmen began to see him a bit differently, but his father and brothers did not. So…he left Mithrall Hall to prove to them that there was more than one way to live as a Dwarf.
Traveling south through the Frost Hills, he bought passage on a barge traveling south…but along the way, the barge was ambushed by trolls, and swept away down the rushing River Surbrin. The only thing that saved him from drowning was his precious lute case, magically enhanced to float and he held on for dear life. He floated in the frigid waters until he came to the bridges of Nesme and was pulled out by men guarding the bridge. Grateful and starving, he wandered into town, having been given a handful of silver by the guards and pointed toward a tavern.
Five Gold Crowns read the sign out front and he staggered in still damp and still starving. The place was packed with people and he shoved his way toward the roaring fireplace, if nothing else but to thaw out. And near the fireplace, he spied another Dwarf…a warrior from the look of him, but he was a Dwarf, the first he’d seen since leaving Mithral Hall. Orn gestured at an empty chair and smiled…and then promptly sneezed, blowing snot and phlegm all over the table…

Alright fellers > this is the opening post for Oggle and Orn. Only those two characters should post in this thread. That finishes up the intro posts. Thanks for your patience.

[AQuebman]

Oggle's mud caked eyes brighten at the sight of another dwarf in his beloved Nesme but only for the briefest of seconds. The snot and phlegm lands in his tankard and all over his right hand and arm. Oggle stands up and puts his right arm around the dwarf as if they were old pals, and uses the opportunity to clean his arm upon the man's shirt.

"Well what do ya know a Dwarf here in my beloved Nesme. Don't tell me the Frost Hill Steambottles miss old Oggle already! Oggle roars in laughter, the smell of his rotted teeth mixed with cheap alcohol fills the air for all to enjoy around him.

[mithrandir138]

"Unfortunately, my friend, you must have me confused with another of your kin." Orn says, trying his best to fein a jovial response. Orn had just pulled himself out of the drink and while he was normally the good-humored sort, he hadn't yet regained his cheerful comportment.

Orn uses his forearm and right hand to wipe away the plegm and spittle from his beard. He then gives an outstretched hand to his new acquaintance and says (heavily rolling his R's for dramatic effect): "Orn Ragduum, my friends call me Orn the Orator!" His mood starts to lighten as he remembers the faces of his old companions as they would listen to his prose.

"I hail from Mithril Hall and I passed through Frost Hill on my way here. Unfortunately, me and my fellow travelers suffered an ambush." Seemingly unfazed by the sheer horror of the incident, and no concern of the lives he had seen end, he continues: 'Tis a shame, as well -- I had started to chronicle my journeys into verse, but that rude interruption was nothing to brag about! Before I could sink my axe into trollskull, I was thrown overboard and was forced to swim for my life!" Recounting the tale ignites the familiar fire within Orn that fed his wanderlust, and further brightens his dour mood.

"Perhaps your journeys have been more monumental? You must share your tale at once!" Orn immediately looks around and raises his hand in attempts to hail a wench and yells "BARKEEP!! Bring me two of your darkest and strongest ales for me and my friend! Perhaps a leg of lamb, as well. I am FAMISHED!"

[AQuebman]

Oggle grasps the young dwarf's hand in greeting a big smile upon his face. "Unfortunately lad my story isn't anything special. We Steambottle's are a disgrace, my clansmen live upon the surface to escape a great disease and spent their days drinking and telling me what a worthless piece of tin I was. I was destined to be the failure they all said I was going to be until praise Bahamut fate set in. A mighty dragon attacked, and slew many of the bastards that told me how worthless I was. I was spared so i've dedicated my life to worship of this great creature, goes by the name Bahamut I hear. So I left and avoided the newly created Mithral Hall and most other dwarves out of shame, and settled here in Nesme." Oggle hangs his head a bit before returning to his jovial demeanor.

"Wasn't until I met the honorable Eregund Wayland fore I made something of myself. I belong to the Riders of Nesme and am one of the few of our kin who can wield two human sized swords with ease" Oggle laughs heartily and takes a deep drink of his ale, phlegm and all

"I'm headed out for a patrol into the hills near Griffon's Nest in two days. Until then i'm drowning myself in drink, food, and beautiful human ladies. So fellow kin what's your name and what brings you here to the Five Gold Crowns?"

[hedgeknight]

In a few moments, a serving girl responds to Orn's summons, bringing a tray laden with ale, cheese, hard black bread, and mutton. The girl leaves the tray and hurries away, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the two dwarves.
Five Gold Crowns tavern is hopping tonight, crowded as usual, and with a jig band squashed into a corner. There's already been two fights, but they didn't last long - the Nesme guards arrived quickly and tossed the brawlers out in the mud and snow.

"The Frost Hills did you say?" a fellow asks, pulling up a chair at the dwarves' table. He's a grizzled old fighter with many scars and missing two fingers on his left hand. "I hear there's still gold in them there hills if a man wants to dig. 'Course he has to fight off the goblins and giants to find a mining hole. Ain't that right?"

[AQuebman]

Oggle stuffs his face full of food and takes a big swig of ale as the man approaches. Oggle talks with his mouth full of mutton I'm sure there's gold, and i'm sure there's also a nice spot for the gobbos to put my arse on a stick! Oggle laughs heavily at his own comments and nearly chokes on his meal.

I'll stick with the Riders, safety in numbers and all. Our silent friend over here though, he might be willing to fight in the Frosties. Your name was Orn the Orally or something like that right mate? Oggle motions in the direction of Orn and bursts into laughter unable to control from laughing at his own joke. Beer and pieces of chewed Mutton fly all over the table.

[hedgeknight]

The older warrior brushes pieces of mutton from his face and shirt as a serving girl brings him a tankard of ale. He takes a couple of gulps and says, "You a Rider? Me too - been one for nigh on two years now. Traveled up from Triboar, looking for something different to do. Heard the pay is decent and you get to fight trolls. Hate the bastards! One time me and my buddies...."

But Oggle doesn't hear much else that the older warrior is saying, because he spies a familiar face in the tavern...a face from his past and one he was hoping not to see again. Vern Rastor was big boy in the town Oggle grew up in and beat the shit out of him more than once, laughing and taunting him the entire time. "Vern the Mighty" he was called by the other kids, and if you didn't want to get a beat down, you did whatever Vern said. Vern Rastor was still big, and still had the swagger that said he thought he was better than everyone else.
What in the name of Bahamut was he doing here in Nesme?

Actions?

[AQuebman]

Oggle downs the rest of his ale, and turns his head back to the talking dwarf. No point becoming one of the rabble because of my past. Vern was an asshole but Oggle was always better than him and he knew it. Can't think of any reason to stoop to his level. Oggle thought, still drowning out the dwarf's story.

[hedgeknight]

No confrontation, eh?
I'm ready to move this thread forward to the day you leave town, if that's alright with you.

[AQuebman]

No confrontation, eh?
I'm ready to move this thread forward to the day you leave town, if that's alright with you.

Yeah that's fine, Oggle's more the protective of others type and not as much the get revenge for himself type

[hedgeknight]

A cold wind blows down the river and welcomes the Riders of Nesme as a patrol rides out of the Citadel of the Riders on the west bank of the River Surbrin, and heads into the wilds of the hills beyond. Led by Captain Truman, the patrol numbers 20 riders - 19 humans and one dwarf - Oggle Steambottle.
Oggle is more excited that he has ever been in his life - it's his first ranging with the Riders, his adopted family, and his chance at making something of himself, possibly even redeeming the Steambottle name. But first things first...pay attention, do his job, and survive the trip.
He figures Orn is somewhere among the wagons that are following behind the Riders, carrying supplies, food, and trade goods. According to Captain Truman, the Riders are going to visit several farms along the bank of the river before turning northwest and making for the hills north of Griffon's Nest. In his brief time in Nesme, Oggle has learned that the barbarians of Griffon's Nest have their sights on Nesme and have tested the defenses a time or two in the past, but not recently. Still, they are a fierce people and not to be taken lightly.

The first day out of Nesme, sees the Riders through the farms, where folk breed and raise hardy Northern horses for this region. In fact, many of the Riders' mounts come from these farms. Oggle's own pony is a sturdy breed from the same farms, and the beast has never thrown him. Probably because he keeps it appeased with apples and carrots. Evening finds the Riders camped on the eastern bank of the Goblintide River, flowing fast from snow melt in the Lurkwood.

The second day, the Riders awake to flakes of snow born on the breeze - the promise of a late spring storm. Mutters run through the camp about what that portends, but Captain Truman won't hear any of it, and the Riders soon break camp, cross the river at a ford, and move farther north, toward the outskirts of the Lurkwood.
The Captain told them that he planned to pass north of Griffon's Nest and south of Shining White - the sacred burial grounds of the Uthgardt of the Griffon tribe. "No need to provoke them any more than our presence will already do," the captain says.

I'm gonna pause here and see if you have any comments...then I'll continue with the post.

[AQuebman]

Oggle takes a deep breath of the cold snowy air and smiles, one thing he loved about being with the Riders is how much of the world he was able to see. He says a prayer to Bahamut each and every morning for safety upon their trip and guidance upon the unknown path he travels. For being a rider Oggle's skill on horseback is questionable at best but he does his best to focus and hide his weakness to his fellow companions.


Oggle generally keeps to himself, ever focused on the surroundings and the duty he pledged to when he joined the Riders oh so many years ago.

[hedgeknight]

It is midday, when the scout spies what appears to be a good sized group of barbarians shadowing the patrol. This is reported to Captain Truman who sends the order down the line to check weapons. Oggle's gut churns a bit, a mixture of adrenaline and apprehension, as he checks his gear, making sure his longsword is loose in its scabbard. The Riders continue much of the day and cross the Shining Creek as dusk creeps over the Realms.
They make a cold camp, no fires, and Oggle spends most of the night shivering in his furs, cussing the weather and whatever gods dealt him this fate of freezing his balls off. Better they freeze off than have 'em chopped off, I reckon, he says to himself more than once during the long night.
Dawn finds the Riders already moving as snow swirls in the wind. Several of his companions mutter about a coming storm and that perhaps this wasn't the best choice of routes, and so on. The barbarians had disappeared and the scouts couldn't find them that morning, but weapons were ready just the same.
And then something happened that Oggle really wasn't prepared for, even though he had been training for such a moment for years > a war horn sounded just over a hillock, soon followed by another behind them. Seconds later, someone shouted and pointed toward the hills south of their position. Barbarians were streaming toward them, too numerous to count. Oggle felt his guts churn again, but this time the feeling only got worse.

"FORM RANKS! SPEARS AND BOWS READY!" Captain Truman shouted as he rode out in front of the Riders and wheeled his mount around. "THESE BARBARIANS ARE UNTRAINED, UNDISCIPLINED! WE ARE RIDERS OF NESME! AND WE DO NOT FEAR!"
Several shouts went up among his companions, but Oggle could only stare at the horde of barbarians that charged ever closer. They had been caught in the open and now it was fight or die.

"ARCHERS...FIRE!" The command came when the barbarians were but a mere 100 yards away. Arrows filled the air and soon another volley as well. Oggle saw a few of the barbarians stumble, one or two go down, but they were left behind by their tribesmen who came on screaming for blood.

At fifty yards, the archers were firing at will and more barbarians were dropping or slowing down, but they still kept coming. Thirty yards...twenty yards...and then the command to charge was given and Oggle kicked the sides of his pony lowered his sword, and charged!

A young barbarian with long blond braids came running directly at him, and Oggle knew it was kill or be killed...

Roll initiative and roll your attack!
Map will follow with the next post.

[AQuebman]

[1d10] = 5 Initiative

[1d20+2] = 18+2 = 20 Single Longsword Attack
[1d8+3] = 7+3 = 10Medium Creature Longsword Damage

Oggle kicks his pony, tries to remember his basic training in mounted combat and jabs his longsword directly for the barbarians heart. Oggle will then drop from the saddle and pull his second longsword. He would show these barbarians and his fellow riders that they were right to accept Oggle into their ranks.

[hedgeknight]

Oggle meets the barbarian head on...and drives his longsword almost through the man, knocking him to the ground to lay dying. Oggle then drops from his saddle and manages to pull another longsword free just as another barbarian charges toward him, yelling for his death!
The man chops at Oggle with a battle axe, but Oggle neatly steps to his left, and the man buries his axe in the ground at his feet. Oggle swings around to attack...

In the wagons, Orn jerks awake at the sounds of battle preparations and looks to see a horde of barbarians descending upon them. The Riders of Nesme meet their charge and soon men, barbarians, and horses are screaming, fighting, and dying all around him. He thinks he sees Oggle fall off his pony...but he can't be sure.
And then, he can't really worry about it because three barbarians are coming right for the wagons!

Nice attack, Oggle! Roll actions for 2 rounds this time - just assume you are going to be fighting and I'll adjust accordingly.
Orn, welcome to the game - time to roll some virtual dice - roll initiative and then 2 rounds of actions. You'll be only fighting one barbarian at first since the wagon drivers are fighting the other two. If you need a battle map, I'll draw up a quick one.

[mithrandir138]

[1d10] = 6 Initiative

As Orn sees the three barbarians approach, his nostrils flare. He is filled with joy as he realizes his axe will finally taste some blood. While he steadies himself and prepares to battle, he recalls the tale of the demise of a band of orcs in some long lost war. His eyes become wild with the lust for battle, and he bellows the following with as much bravado as he can muster after being rudely stirred awake:

OHH, their arms did flail and their heads did bleed
When axes of dwarves knocked them from their steeds

With vigor and might
We killed them that night
When the orcs did test our dwarvish creed

Hail! Hail! Slash them in twain!
for their words are a jumble
and their dress is too plain! ....

OOC: This is my "Battle Chant" I will be performing for my +1 bonus to attack and damage as I fight.

First attack: [1d20+1] = 3+1 = 4 - Damage: [1d8+1] = 8+1 = 9
Second attack: [1d20+1] = 19+1 = 20 - Damage: [1d8+1] = 2+1 = 3

Aw, c'mon, dice! All that chanting for nuthin'

[AQuebman]

First Round of Attacks
First Attack [1d20+2] = 18+2 = 20
[1d8+3] = 8+3 = 11 Longsword Damage on Medium Creature Now that's what Daddy likes to see!

[1d20+2] = 11+2 = 13 2nd Attack First Round
[1d8+3] = 7+3 = 10 Longsword Damage on a Medium Creature Not as good but still decent at least.

Second Round of Attacks
[1d20+2] = 15+2 = 17 First Attack Second Round
[1d8+3] = 4+3 = 7 First Damage Roll
[1d20+2] = 4+2 = 6 Second Attack Second Round
[1d8+3] = 1+3 = 4 Second Damage Roll
[1d20+2] = 11+2 = 13 Third Attack Second Round
[1d8+3] = 7+3 = 10 Third Damage Roll

Oggle leaps from his horse, pulls his second longsword and flails in a storm of blades. "Bahamut! Like your talons these swords shall rip this evil limb from limb! Grant me your power, let it flow through the Riders as we decimate these scum" Fear and excitement mix and leave Oggle in a blinded fury. Each barbarian morphs from the savages they are to look like images of the bullies back home, he'd take their taunts as he always had and use it to fuel his prowess in battle

[hedgeknight]

Griffon Barbarian Attack 2

Finally in a fight, Orn bellows out a war chant as the battle carries to the wagons. Three young barbarians, looking for their first blood, come in fast and hard. One peels off toward Orn and leaps in the air with a yell just as Orn finishes his chant. Orn grunts and brings up his battle axe, meeting the youth's own axe is a clash of steel that jars his teeth!
Staggered, Orn swings at his foe, but hits nothing but air as the barbarian rolls to the side and then back to his feet.
Across the way, Orn witnesses one of the drivers get nearly cut in half from a wicked chop of an axe.
"First blood!" the youth yells to his companions, and then moves on to another foe.

But Orn can't pay him no mind because his foe is trying his best to kill him! With a snarl, the barbarian spins and cuts low, hitting Orn hard in the gut, nearly knocking him down! 1d20=20
Blood spurts from his belly and Orn wonder how his innards are staying in from the near fatal wound (Max dmg on "20" = 8 hp). But the battle chant reverberates in his brain and he delivers a back hand blow that opens a gash on the barbarian's shoulder!

Nearby...
As he arms himself with a second longsword, Oggle calls upon the platinum dragon, his patron deity for strength. And then he begins to "dance" with a blind fury, picturing the bullies of his childhood in each of his foes. His first attack cuts a barbarian from neck to nuts, spraying the ground with blood. The barbarian screams and goes down and Oggle turns to face the man's companion.
The barbarian comes in low and swings up, but Oggle deflects the man's attack with his armor, while missing with his first attack. He pivots and slashes with his second attack taking the barbarian's right arm clean off, along with part of his face! He falls too and suddenly, Oggle hears a dwarven battle chant and turns to see the dwarf he met at Nesme, facing his own foe...but with another barbarian coming up from behind him...

ACTIONS!!
Give me two rounds worth!

Stats:
Oggle - full hp
Orn - down 8 hp

[mithrandir138]

Nearly mortally wounded, Orn tries his best to keep his composure. Orn steels himself and lunges forward swinging his axe. He screams as he attacks: "Death awaits ye, boy! Though you shall live forever in my song!"

[1d20] = 7 to hit - [1d8] = 7 damage
[1d20] = 19 to hit - [1d8] = 2 damage

Well.... shit!

[AQuebman]

Oggle rushes over to engage the one coming from Orn's flank and then moves to engage the barbarian he's already engaged with.

Orn! Barbarian dogs are at your flank!

[1d20+2] = 12+2 = 14 First Attack First Round
[1d20+2] = 8+2 = 10 Second Attack First Round
[1d8+3] = 7+3 = 10 [1d8+3] = 2+3 = 5 Damage Rolls for First and Second Attacks of the First Round

[1d20+2] = 5+2 = 7 [1d20+2] = 1+2 = 3 [1d20+2] = 12+2 = 14 Three Attacks in Second Round
[1d8+3] = 7+3 = 10 [1d8+3] = 5+3 = 8 [1d8+3] = 8+3 = 11 Three Damage Rolls for Second Round Attacks

The Dice gods were not as friendly today