The Admiral rose at the nobleman's touch and behest, standing and putting herself at a military parade rest as he continued to speak. She was vaguely aware of Jack and the professional asshole eye fucking one another nearby, and Gwyn's fascination with the cage would be an obvious guess without even turning around to watch it happen. So she didn't. Instead she nodded politely at the noble's words, pretending to be interested, or even paying attention... but such was not the case. Instead her eyes remained still and her attention focused, quite keenly, upon the poem she was devising in her own mind as she stared at the nobleman.

You don’t seem quite so fit for that...
Sort of pudgy; sort of fat.
So why then is it that you rule?
When after all, you are a boar…
Boars and pigs aren’t meant to fly,
Yet there you linger, up on high.
A pink blotch within skies of blue.
One would not guess it’s you who flew.
When birds are better suited still,
To venture upwards, at their will.
But all is not quite as it seems,
When a silly pig rules over me.

She was only vaguely aware that things were happening around her, bored and waiting to leave at this point.

 

This man clearly had no intention of being useful to their mission. That was Jack’s original and final impression of the overly sized noble that refused to offer anything of any real worth towards progressing their assigned task. Having now decided as such, he’d turn to look towards his companions as if ready to head out.

Stifling a small laugh, he’d obtain a sense of confirmation after seeing the glazed over look in The Admiral’s eyes. It was definitely time to take leave, regardless of what any other forces in the universe had thought. To be honest, by this point Jack had already expected to be on the road in the middle of an ambush of sorts or at the very minimum – no longer in this estate.

“Well then, it was a pleasure but we do have a job to do. Shall we?”

He’d motion towards the door while gesturing for the slave hunter to stand. Whether or not the man actually did was of no real concern to Jack. Should the steward not escort them out the door, he’d simply open it himself and begin retracing steps back outside. Considering how repulsive this place was, he wouldn’t dilly dally for too long.

 

Gwyn had scoured over the cage from her position, but between the odd and incredibly faked politeness from The Admiral to the group's employer and the pissing contest through facial expressions between Jack and the slave hunter, she found herself distracted. The noble's words alone were enough to tempt her heavily into rolling her eyes, but she figured it'd be best not to toe a line one didn't know the location of. From what she could see, whatever manner of beast had done this had her impressed. She would have been excited to fight it, but if it were an envoy of the elves to free the slave then she would likely have to stay her hand. There was no promise they'd even find either of them. The two did have quite a head start. "It's good you weren't present to get hurt, but a shame you couldn't see it. You'd have quiet a lavish tale to tell, I'd bet." Her tone was flat, but not necessarily hostile. Gwyn could imagine with perfect clarity a man like him boasting some bullshit about how he survived the terrible attack against some ferocious beast. Perhaps he'd like to see himself at the center of a hero's tale. She didn't see that happening.

"I have what I can get from this," she gestured at the cage, "but I'm curious what this expert has to offer. Is it common for beasts to free slaves?" She struggled to check her near mocking tone toward the man with the foul profession. "I suppose we'll see on the trail what you have to offer to our little team's composition." The ranger was disgusted by this place and leaving sooner rather than later was a very tempting thought. She was pleased to see Jack make the first move so she could follow in his wake. Gwyn didn't normally find herself so passive, but her stubborn kick-doors-in manner of approach would likely cause more trouble than it was worth here.

 

The noble seemed to hesitate, as if wanting his guests to stay to hear tales or spin them himself. He tried to speak out to slow their retreat but before he could, the armor man stood up with a heavy sound when his armored boot touched the ground. "It's about time then--" The armored 'professional' practically snorted as he dusted himself off, taking the queue from Jack as if glad he wasn't the one to make that call first. A hearty laugh came from his lips as he gestured to the pudgy noble who was still trying to urge them to stay a bit longer. "Forgive me, but since your guests are impatient, I'll be heading out as well." The man spoke with a shake of his shoulder, glancing once more at the trio, flashing a proud grin as he pushed the door open when Jack began his retreat from the estate, clearly intending on accompanying them since it was what he was here for.

When finally free from the estate, the Slave hunter would shrug his shoulders in answer to the woman's question. "Common enough, not all of them have the skill, but a few of the more dangerous ones have some influence. It's the first beasty I seen that made it this deep into town, but they all bleed the same." He spoke as if it was inconsequential. As if the answer didn't really bother him one way or the other. His job was simply to capture the fleeing elf after all, there was no reason to overthink his work-- he'd merely cut down anything in his way, that was his thought at least.

It didn't seem to matter who led, if the group of three insisted on doing their own thing he'd merely follow along as if the result was something he had no stake in. Alternatively if they intended for him to lead, he would grumpily step forward and begin hunting down the Elf as he was hired to. Out from the estate, the metal fence that enclosed the property was warped and bent outward, no doubt from the creature's escape. Deeper into the woods were tracks that got progressively harder to follow as time passed. Whatever creature had annihilated the fence and stormed the estate would seem to disappear after a while as it's trail went cold. The farther they advanced, the more cautious the slave hunter grew though, as if he was expecting something.

OOC: From this post onward I would like everyone to roll me 1d100 at the end of their posts. I will mention positive or negative modifiers as they come up.

• +10 Modifier for each rank in Hunting
• +5 Modifier for each rank in either; Illumancy, Pyromancy, Naturamancy or Rogue
• -5 Modifier for each piece of Heavy Armor worn

 

It appeared as though people were finally, mercifully, prepared to leave the estate and get things 'the fuck' on with. She had almost sobbed internally when the noble tried to stop them with his fat stuttering, but it had been the professional hunter of all people who had cut him off and escalated the potential for retreat. Granted he had implied they were impatient and rude in the process, obviously in an attempt to engender the nobleman's affection back in his own direction, and she felt her lips quirk at the corners in malicious humor. So, he could play that game, could he? But she could win it.

Ignoring the exchange of Jack, Gwyn, and the others as they made their way out the doors she paused a moment and smiled to the nobleman, reaching out to his hand he had raised when trying to bid their delay. Cupping it gently in her gauntlet, she knelt ever so slightly and kissed one of the rings of his fingers as though he were Pope or King, and then released it with a brighter smile.
"Until we can share more stories, my lord," she announced before swiftly turning about and marching off of the estate. Let the professional contend with THAT sort of sway in their favor. And thank god all the others had already stormed off, and hadn't seen it happen.

Her rapid military pace quickly caught up with the others by the time they'd made it to the fence, looking relieved to be on the move and desperately trying not to kill one another. She slowed down to match their own movements, aware that the weight of her armor was causing quite the racket, though the professional seemed garbed in similar plate and seemed likely to produce equal amounts of noise. She rolled her shoulders and popped her neck as they made their way out into the woods, sending a PM to the other two players to kill time and make this less... tedious.

The Admiral

Call me a sucker for the long odds, but I'll bet thirty gold coins that our Professional Slave Hunter is really an expert in their abolition, and is a freedom fighter for their cause. Think about it; cocky roguish attitude, thinly veiled disrespect for the nobles and safety of beasts breaking into town. Hates us right off the bat, but doesn't respect us as competition so... likely he hates us for even taking the job. Thirty gold says he helps stage the break outs, and is hailed as a "professional" in order to keep amateurs away to reduce harassment of elves in the area. Make it easier for them to escape. It's kind of the perfect cover for that sort of thing, and I refuse to believe a man who actually intends to capture hiding slaves would march into the woods wearing heavy armor.

She grinned and thumped her breastplate dully with a gauntlet, as if laughing at herself for wearing the armor. It was a joke that the players would be able to understand, but the professional would be highly confused, and very likely pissed, over. For all he knew she was simply patting her chest and making noise for no reason. Well, nuts to him.

Thrown die:

38

38 - 25 = 13​

 

As soon as they left the gaudy environment of the noble's property, the huntress sighed in relief. She lifted up a hand to rub at the scarred bridge of her nose and eyed the path they took. The eastern gate came and went and the moment they were in the woods, Gwyn's posture shifted fluidly. She bowed her back some and the gait of her walk shifted, her center of gravity lowered and the sounds muffled with an even distribution of weight. Despite the danger that no doubt awaited any man in the woods, this is where she felt at home. This and the high mountains and low valleys. This is what she was made for here and in the real world she walked.

The Admiral must have lagged behind them unnoticed in Gwyn's driven exit from the foul estate. All at once the sounds of armor grew worse to clamor about and announce their way. She cast her an amused look with a lifted brow and glanced at the armor. When the notification for the the message popped up she startled slightly and popped it open to read quickly, though she skimmed to prevent too much distraction. They had a trail to follow after all.

Gwyn ap Herne

Would he have the title of "professional" slave hunter if he was? Or do you think that's a lie he tells and the stories are enough to win over nobles? Rumors in the upper class are toxic things. If he failed once he'd shame any noble who hired him after. I don't trust him any more than I do rich folk. At least the wilds and the wolves you can trust. They don't pretend they don't want you dead.

As soon as she sent her reply she moved forward and brought two fingers to her temple to activate the investigation mode. Gwyn would cast a quick look at the slave hunter out of curiosity before her attention shifted to the trail. She kept ahead of the others enough to check the tracks without anyone having stepped on them or moved other traces that could have been left. Broken stems, toppled rocks, scraps of fur or scale or skin, anything and everything that could accent the pressed in footprint- or pawprints. Gwyn took great care not to step on anything herself in the event they needed to backtrack at any point. With a slight smile she pulled her longbow to her hand, but drew no arrow. For now she simply settled into a swift-as-silence-allowed stalk with a firm grip on her weapon, should any teeth peel from the darkness to sink into them.

Thrown die:

63

[ +10 Hunting - Novice ]​

 

Despite the various points made on each side, Jack was inclined to agree with The Admiral. His eyes ever so briefly flickering across his interface as he’d remain behind the slave hunter, he’d briefly respond with his own thoughts on the matter.

Jack Anders

I’m with Addy on this one. He’s too clunky to be of any real use. And besides? Aren’t professionals technically just people who get paid to do something? Technically we’re professional slave hunters too now…

Yeah. Rich folk get kind of uppity when it comes to looking good and their reputation, but realistically that lard ass only wants to keep his pride intact. He made that pretty clear when he didn’t care if the elf came back alive or dead, right? Maybe the dude just brought him some ears from some other elf and called it a day?

Is it me or is this guy a lot more on edge than he should be?... You think he knows something we don’t?

Having sent the message, the support would continue to stay weary of their surroundings. Rather than focusing on their immediate area however, he’d instead keep an eye further in the distance. Not entirely convinced by their extra help’s behavior, the dark haired man placed himself on high alert as well. Should anyone be nearby or lurking, he’d rather pay heed to their presence and not get caught off guard staring at some crushed sprouts at his feet.

Thrown die:

37

Result Modifier: +25
(+30 if you want to count beginner)​

 

Dungeon Master

As the group advanced, the first one to notice something 'strange' among the three would be Gwyn. The damage done to the woods seemed to just suddenly stop, traces erased as if they'd never been there, no matter how careful her vague experience told her there should be SOMETHING no matter how elusive as evidence. She was just barely able to make out the reality as they entered a small wooded clearing, the vague silhouette of a woman standing on the opposite side, her body leaning out from behind a tree as if to observe the situation from a safe distance. Though she wasn't skilled enough to detect anything beyond the silhouette, Gwen was capable of piercing through the illusion using experience and keen sight.

The second to notice would be Jack, his experience in Illumancy gave him a good enough disposition to recognize signs of life and even detect them when his guard was up. Now was surely not an exception. Even if he couldn't pierce the illusion as well as Gwyn had he could 'feel' that there was someone on the other end even if he couldn't point out exactly where with as much surety. Instead, both he and Gwyn would no doubt notice something much more obvious darting towards them, not far from that silhouette Gwyn would be able to see, this creature was a lot more clear, clear enough for Jack to detect it with absolute precision as it rampaged in their direction rushing out from between the trees and leaves. Though it caused a fair amount of damage in it's charge, the Admiral wouldn't be able to puncture the illusion well enough over the sound of her own equipment.

In the end, as it approached they'd be able to see it with their eyes rather then their abilities by the time it was close enough to strike. As if the peeling off a painted image of camouflage it's disguise burned away into ash as a large deer-like creature raced towards them, it's head already lowered in charging position, it's intentions clear. Jack and Gwyn would have ample time to avoid the charge, but the Admiral and the Slave Hunter would only be able to see it as it discarded the illusion. It's horns forward a heavy crash would thrust the pair back, as if being struck by a car, the world tumbling around them. It was only fortunate their armor prevented any kind of penetration, they were no doubt able to get up and soldier on but a clear damage had been done, the world still spinning around them making it hard to properly discern their surroundings.

The creature itself had a large skull for a face, it's body covered with moss, though it had long slender legs for jumping and running they didn't seem weak at all as it turned it's head, grunting in hostility as smoke came from the bony nostrils. It's empty eye sockets projecting a feeling of hostility and hate despite having no eyes to speak of. During the chaos of the new intruder, only Gwyn might notice the silhouette behind the tree recoiling, as if in fright and concern, as if unable to watch such a display happening right before her, but despite that the creature still seemed ready to continue to fight them off. Gwyn and Jack would be able to vaguely understand that this creature surely wouldn't be the last to appear if they didn't do something soon to clarify their intentions soon.

Naturally the professional rose quickly as you might expect, though he didn't shrug off the impact, he stood rolling his shoulder, the dizziness not seeming to effect him as he grunted, his gaze a glowing piercing red of fury and hate. "You stupid monster-- you think this's enough to stop me? I'll keep chasing, and chasing, and chasing all of you down-- HAHAHAHA" The man roared threateningly, making his intentions clear as well. His armor was loud, his equipment was heavy not because he was some kind of double agent, but merely because he was more monster then the creature that had charged him. The party had come to a crossroads as the professional seemed unwilling to give up now that his charge was in sight.

Jack

100 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

Conditions -

Gwyn

100 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

Conditions -

Admiral

80 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

Conditions - Dizzy - 1 turn remaining.

OOC: Please chose a side in your next post or risk being caught in the middle!

Additional Modifiers:

• +5 for those deciding to sneak attack one side without declaring their position first
• -10 for those struck Dizzy by the Forest Guardian

 

Tracks did not vanish. Not instantly and not at a dead stop. Sure, the elements could weather them away quickly, but never neatly. It was never perfect or without an obvious cause. Even treed animals left signs of their change of course. The perfect stop, null and voided trail, was unnatural in a way that set her teeth on edge. They'd found something, even if it wasn't their quarry, or they had found a clever obstacle to throw the duller of hunters. It would take a very, very dull hunter not to see a trap or misdirection being laid. When her eyes caught the figure she found her gait catching for a moment. A slight hesitation as she peered through the odd illusion protecting their intended quarry. She refrained from hailing the woman, eyes cutting back toward the slave hunter for a moment to see if he'd yet to catch on. Gwyn could admit to herself that her party members were more concerning than him, however. She didn't know the full measure of The Admiral and knew next to nothing of the man with them. Only that they were stronger.

She didn't have long for her thoughts to spiral as something other than the presumed slave broke the illusion to the party behind her. For a moment she watched it with wide eyes. Seeing such a powerful beast charge from the illusion's tattered remains was quiet the sight. The ranger side-stepped enough to avoid the charge and a side-swipe should it toss its antlers her way, but no more. In the seconds it was near her, she smiled. This world was truly amazing and it's beasts even more so.

Her mood shifted from awe to disgust quickly with the supposed professional's words. Here was a man who did not fear. Here was the hunter surrounded by his hunting hounds. Gwyn quietly named his Actaeon for being so fool as to assume their teeth couldn't tear into him just as sure as the stag. There was no god to strike down judgement that she'd met in the waking world or this one. She was happy to be it. Without a word she retreated farther to capitalize on the distance as she pulled an arrow across the string of the longbow. The huntress bore her teeth in a snarl of a grin and loosed a Pinning Shot to temporarily immobilize the heavily armored man. Such a beautiful monster as the skull-faced stag deserved to reap the life of a real monster. "Sorry, doll, but where I come from slavery's out of style." She kept her bow lined on the hunter, but her eyes switched to the two with her. Hopefully she wasn't about to get run through by three where the stag missed.

Thrown die:

47

[ +15 Ranged: Proficient & +5 Additional: Sneak ]​

 

With events unfolding as they did, Jack could only let out a helpless sigh while shaking his head. In all honesty, he had partially expected things to pan out this way. All of them did to some degree. That still didn’t change the fact that it left a bit of distaste in his mouth with all things considered. Regardless of the route chosen, they’d either be encouraging slavery or betrayal of an employer. Neither of these issues sat well nor looked good on a resume.

Immediately taking initiative to secure his own safety, the man quickly scurried off to the left side of the beast to avoid its hellish charge at the two vanguards. His eyes narrowing keenly as an arrow was drawn, he’d shoot a darting glance towards The Admiral to gauge the woman’s stance on the matter. As a support player it was rather difficult to take a stance of his own considering he had to follow where the damage decided to roam…

Instead, he’d begin a short incantation to restore his guild mate’s health bar. Given a second or two to cast, a beam of light descended down upon the female berserker, replenishing her life force and mending her wounds. “Guess we’re in this one way or the other… Your pick Addy.”

OOC: Jack avoids the charge and heals @The Admiral . He announces he'll follow her choice of action (basically proclaiming sides when she does).

 

Two choices came in a yellow wood, and sorry she could not have them both.
And be one person, long she stood,
And got knocked on her ass as hard as she could,
By a deer in the undergrowth.

Then looked up at Jack and gave a groan, having perhaps had better days.
For she was injured, and this wasn't fair...
Though, as for that, Jack's healing there,
Had brought her health more or less back to same.

And to complicate matters on that day,
Gwyn drew an arrow to attack...
Oh! She was against slavery, or so she claimed,
Yet knowing her party might be swayed,
Made them slaves to a choice she could not take back.

Admiral would be telling this with a sigh,
Drunk somewhere both cheap and dimly lit.
Two choices came in a wood, and she-
She took the one her hand was forced by...
So the professional she did hit.

Thrown die:

74

74 - 10 dizzy + 5 unannounced = 69
(no note said to add my masteries, but if I do, it's another +20 for 1H bludgeon assuming +5 per tier above beginner. In which case final roll would be 89)​

 

@Kess @Gwyn ap Herne @Jack Anders

 

Dungeon Master

Everyone's reactions were equally swift, rather then targeting the called creature of the wood, they targeted the professional. The man himself however didn't seem to be caught off guard, in fact, as if relishing the opportunity to take adventurers as well his laughter grew more wild and unstable. On the other hand, the action did surprise the hiding silhouette, it would have been foolish to reveal herself solely to question the motives of the people fighting against such a villain though. Instead she seemed to decide to remain hidden and instead communicate through the creature that took up a pose to defend the small group and fight with them with a loud braying cry.

​

Their aggressor pulled down a large axe from his side, the pinning shot struck him in the leg while the Admiral's blow also seemed to strike his body, but the woman swinging at him would notice something wrong the moment her blow struck. Despite the weight of her weapon, the monsterous hunter didn't budge an inch, worse still, he took a step forward to advance as the bright glow of his eyes shined with a more intense rage as the group turned on him using such scheming methods. "Race traitors! I'd thought you would all understand, the superior blood of humanity flows through your veins but you would squander it for this... creature!" The man spat clearly displeased, his rage was beginning to boarder on madness as he forced his other leg forward, twisting Gwyn's arrow from it's anchoring point.

"Very well! It falls on me to do our race a favor in erasing those without who stand in the way of the Human Race!" The man roared as his hate began to overflow from his eyes as a hazy red fog. His body bent forward like a bull as he trudged forward like a charging savage rampaging without direction or thought. It was clear the man had relinquished tactics and technique for raw power and force at this point, his actions domineering and unrestrained. He pressed forward ripping his way through any attempts at halting his movement as he swung at the Admiral who was the closest to him.

Fortunately quick action would allow the Admiral the chance to parry his savage blow, though countering strength with strength would no doubt fail, but it had no semblance of aim let alone rhyme or reason making it possible to avoid even in heavy armor. The Heal also seemed to come in a timely manner, had she been struck it would no doubt arrive at the same time. Though missing his swing only seemed to further enrage the Hunter, cold vicious laughter continued to echo from his armored head.

Jack

100 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

Conditions -

Gwyn

100 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

Conditions -

Admiral

95 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

Conditions -

OOC: Additional Modifiers:

• + 5 for every weapon rank when attacking
• When buffing Allies please indicate Offensive or Defensive, AOE or single target

 

“Well, that got racist real fast… I wanna say his vision is so narrow because his helmet doesn’t give him any peripheral vision, but now is probably not the time.” An unsurprised look remained upon Jack’s face as he could only shake his head wearily at the slave hunter while shrugging rather apathetically. The man was clearly unamused by the lunatic’s ravings and wasn’t really in the mood to entertain any open discussion on the subject of race superiority. It simply wasn’t up for discussion.

Rather than debating Elven equality with the loon, the healer would instead take a more efficient course of action. Considering how their enemy was practically a cancer for society, he’d do what he was trained to do – remove the tumor. His lips quietly mouthing the incantation beneath his breath, his eyes narrowed after selecting a target and finishing the final words.

"Lethodar vinaquirem jistrah sinur!"

Though not a familiar sight for the ranger, the berserker was well versed with this spell’s effect. Thankfully she wouldn’t need to be familiar considering the healer had only blessed a single ally for now. As for The Admiral’s weapons, they would ignite with a holy flame, empowering each strike’s physical strength. Now satisfied with the result produced, the man continued to slink further back, retreating behind their vanguard while putting more distance (and a tree) between him and the slave hunter.

OOC: Single target offensive buff on @The Admiral

 

Well, it seemed they were committed to this action now. Gwyn had in her haste pulled a weapon on the man and Jack was seemingly indifferent about whether or not they backed the archer woman up in this. She had considered sitting on the sidelines and trying to calm everyone down but, to find a sane and simple solution forwards, but inaction such as that was worse than rash actions in a situation like this. She had quickly realized, amidst Jack's healing, that regardless of what she herself felt Gwyn had made the first move. The only one that mattered, because it would color the view of their entire party. This was the Shot Heard 'Round the World, as it were, and if she did not take immediate action to assist her team member then she would still be damned by whatever happened. History only cared for the myopic view. If only Gwyn had been a little more patient and restrained!

And then the man opened his mouth, and her face twisted up in a disgusted snarl.

"GOOD CALL GWYN!" She shouted as her hammer and club raised to meet the man's own weapon, fighter and fighter locked in an exchange of attacks that seemed not to connect with either person's body. She kept her attention on the man's attacks, ignoring distractions such as 'why the fuck wasn't the deer monster helping' and 'holy shit, this hurts.' Her rage just continued to build as the man talked with all the ignorance of a klanner, and with a grunt she shoved his latest attack away and began to swing wildly at his face, knees, shoulders... whatever she could land a blow on, the dual wielded hammer and mace crashing down towards him with rapid cruelty.

"You know one thing I've noticed is that when men like you live their whole lives with their heads up their or someone else's ass, each time they open their mouth to give an opinion, they just swallow more shit! So why don't you SHUT THE FUCK, because THESE. COLORS. DON'T. RUN! CAW CAAAAAAAAAAAW!"

Dropping into a sudden crouch, she stopped giving a single flippity fuck about whatever damage she might be taking, and focused all of her attacks on one target: his dick. This race-supremacist motherfucker needed to get his liberty bell RUNG! Was exclusively targeting his dick, and her entire little speech, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay over the top? So much so that it had achieved its own orbit out there, in the big blue sky. But despite being a more serious and strategic character now, it did not mean she would not have similar moments of pure ridiculousness similar to before.

Thrown die:

39

39 + 20 = 59 (+offensive buff from Jack on top)