[personal profile] kpram
We picked up the session with the party (including Tryggvi) about to confront 6 zombies (with a skeleton in the back).

Grimman and Tryggvi were the main front line, with Grimman getting the worst of the pressure. The zombies facing him were relentless (rolling well), trying to chop him off at the legs; he weathered to storm as well as his heroic spirit could manage. On Tryggvi's side of the line, things went better. Zombies were hacked and dispatched (with a brief moment of caution when a zombie rushed into a hole in the line). Meanwhile, Geir dropped the skeleton in the back before it could strike the alarm gong. Just as the zombie flank collapsed, and the party's heavy hitters started to roll up the undead line, a lucky shot hacked Grimman's leg out from under him.

They spent some time drinking deeply from the newly acquired magical healing horn, and bandaging their wounds, before deciding to retreat from the cave. They heard some noises from the other side of the door, and formed up to fight, but nothing came through. They marched out, carrying the crippled Grimman. They traveled all the way back to town, a journey of over a week, made slower by Grimman's wounds and the need to stop and hunt to supplement their meager rations.

Rested and resupplied, the party intends to travel back to the cave, and kill all they find there.

Rich (Grimman's) view

Date: 2008-11-08 05:43 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
I sidle up the corridor carefully. I’m cautious, as I am still injured from the battle over the chasm; luck has definitely not been on my side on this journey. No doubt, the spirits are hungry. I’ve not had enough food to spare them their due, and now they hunger for my misfortune as a result. Ahead, there is more light…and, curse it, it’s clear I’ve not been stealthy enough. Figures face my position, waiting for my next move. I feel a chill as I see one in back; surely, he’ll be trouble (they always are.) I turn to my friends, and say “There’s someone here, and they know we’re here.” No sense pretending otherwise. Too bad Skald’s not here. He’d know what to do better than I. Well, I know what to do well enough… “Shoot the one in the back,” I cry, as I run forward. Charging into battle feels right; give the spirits blood to drink (not disgusting spider goo), and they’ll be on MY side again. With a shout, I’m upon them, ready to kill! Wait…what…oh, no…they’re not people, they’re dead things, walking. A few swings, and it’s clear my luck has far from changed; with a loud clack, the sword gets trapped between a foe’s body and shield, and is flung to the floor. With scarcely a thought, I’ve readied my axe; it should buy me some time. Damn, these ones are fast! They keep going for my legs, and only with great effort am I able to keep out of the way! I swat away one’s blade with my axe, then drop the unwieldy thing. I really need that sword back. As I crouch to grab it, I sense the others around me, fighting much better than I. Even Geir is doing well, his hands a blur as he fires arrow after arrow into his target…I’m relieved to see that one drop without having harmed us. Reluctantly, I realize he may go from being Geir Swordstealer to Geir Sureshot. Ahhh! My leg is afire; though the pain quickly ebbs, I know I’m in deep trouble. It won’t support any weight. I snatch up the sword, and lean against the wall, hoping to at least fend off any further blows. Good thing, too. I bat away a few blows before my friends push the creatures back. In short order, we are victorious. Nothing for it. Even drinking from the horn doesn’t help enough. Aesa does what she can, but there’s too much meat hacked through. Reminds me of a joint of beef after the huscarls have got at it. I strip off some of my gear to lighten my load. I tell the others to go on ahead, and I can wait here for them, but they think I can’t stay alone, or those spiders will come. I suppose they’re right. Talk talk talk…can’t they decide & be quiet? I hear something…at the door! “Noise, at the door” I whisper hoarsely, pointing. They fall silent, looking at me as if I’ve gone into wound-fever. Then, they hear it too, but after a bit the sound dies down. That settles it; our foes are prepared too well. They decide it’s time to go. The trip out is a blur to me; I get lost in a reverie…there are folk here who’ve passed on, whispering, muttering, trying to tell me something, but our trip and talk drowns them out, and blood loss is taking its toll on me. I know I’m being carried, but remember little until the blasts of fresh air snap me back to focus. Nothing much more to tell I guess. Long, dull trip back to town. Trees. Rocks. Bugs. Bugs keep trying to get to the wound, I’m always digging the little buggers out of the damnedest places. Little food; I could fish or hunt if I weren’t laid up. (Maybe I should eat the bugs…) Finally, town, rest, and beer (blessed beer!) The beer is just what the leg needed…Ale for what ails you! Very well, so Aesa, the town healer, and the horn might have had something to do with it too… Geir keeps running on about some magic key, and Frigga’s getting into it now too. They must’ve got hit in the head or something; they’re making that crap up. I remind them, and those around them, what really happened. At any rate, it doesn’t matter; we’ve not done what we said we would, so it’s time to go back soon anyway. Leg’s better, everyone else is fine. Just need to pick up a bunch of food, and light, (and see if I can fashion a ward of some sort against the misfortune lying so thick in that place) and we’ll be off!

Re: Rich (Grimman's) view

Date: 2008-11-08 05:44 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
OK, that *was* nicely formatted. Kevin, I'll mail you a copy. Maybe you know the magic here; I've never used this site.

Frigga and the Zombies of the Spider Cave

Date: 2008-11-09 09:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sersie.livejournal.com
After a particularly long drink of ale Frigga burped loudly slamming her crock mug down to the table, looking in frustration at Grimmin. He had just finished some wishy-washy tale of their recent exploits in the spider caves.

"That's not the way it happened," she said slurring a bit from too much drink over the course of an evening, "let me tell you ALL how it REALLY was down in those evil caves!" Then she stood, a bit unsteadily and staggered over before the fire before turning to the assembled tavern patrons.

"Hel herself must have forged that hole in the ground because it was nothing but darkness and death in there. We had just finished killing a score or more of these horse sized spiders," she said as she held up her hand to mark a height of 6 feet or more, "with fangs as long as a man's arm! But we stomped them bugs good....spider guts all over the place. That was only the beginning though!"

Grabbing another mug of ale from a waitress’s tray much to her annoyance, Frigga drank deeply then continued, narrowing her eyes and glaring about the room.

"Yes just the beginning because just in the next room, after destroying wave after wave of these many legged beasties, there was the mother of all spiders! Size of a horse? Ha!" she laughed deeply, "this mother was the size of a house! Giant blood it must have been drinking truly, for she was a monster. But after stomping on every...one...of her litter we attacked the beastie and my sister Helga the Mighty, cut the legs right from under it and down it went. Truly a victory worthy of Valhalla!" she said and raised her mug in a toast to the gods before drinking deeply.

"Hel was not done with us that do though! No we continued on into that fetid nest and came across yet another abomination. The walking dead..." Frigga paused briefly, looking about the room once again.

"Grimmin had been scouting ahead when he shouted a warning to us of the approaching creatures. We set our lines in the mouth of a cave and waited for the horde of rotting and smelly corpses to attack. Then they were upon us and we let our weapons do the talking!"

Mimicking her spear fighting style in front of the fire place Frigga mimed a battle with the zombies.

"Trygvi had formed up on my right and Grimmin was on my left, while I valiantly held the middle of the line my spear a blur of death and destruction! Yarrrrrrrr!" she shouted making a lunging attack toward the crowd spilling some of her Ale. Frowning Frigga finished off her drink and tossed it back behind her on the floor with a crash of shattering pottery and continued.

"Trygvi held well on the right, but Grimmin had some difficulty on the left as there seemed to be a healthy swarm of the beasties there and they all seemed intent on taking him out at the knees! Aesa and Helga had formed up behind out shield wall and had begun to dish out a load of pain...assuming those creatures felt pain. Grimmin held out for a long time, with many a valiant effort to avoid the many blows of the enemy, but one of the blows eventually got through and felled him!" Frigga moved toward where Grimmin sits and continued.

"Having fared better on the right side of the line Trygvi and I collapsed left onto the enemy's flanks and were able to dispatch the remaining fiends before any more harm could come to our companion! Victory!" she shouted triumphantly patting Grimmin on the shoulder and smiling then sitting down beside him she gave him a wink before talking another long drink after the story.

"I am no Skald to be sure, but Grimmin you need to work on your stories a bit more," Frigga laughed, "Valhalla awaits the bold and heroic my friend, you are surely a strong warrior, you should embrace it more!"

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