Sir Karl Mordrane Sularia (Jerrard)- Private Thread

[TristenC]

[I think by the book the 'extra' attack happens on the second round. I usually alternate that, however, since it can be pretty detrimental to the character if there are a lot of short combats]
[R2]

Discarding his lance the noble Knight draws his shining sword; the very same that once belonged to his father... Fearlessly he rides forward, his steadfastness mirrored by the well trained warhorse beneath him. As one they charge towards their foe with a will. The thickening fog obscures all but the pair of riders and their mounts, rushing headlong into terrible combat!

Sir Karl's shield comes up to deflect the whirling ball-chain and he strikes hard at the skeletal rider's hip, high above his eye level. The sword hacks a large chunk of bone from the creature, but the blade proves ill suited to hacking through the hard bone. Prodigious claws and teeth from the reptilian undead slash and snap and swipe at the armored man, but Bayard hurls himself from their reach, wheeling off into the mists for another turn at the creatures.

The misty white air echoes strangely the sounds of iron-shod hooves on hard ground. The sounds of combat seem farther and farther, and the clattering of bone reverberates strangely in the damp air... the thing couldn't be far.... but where?


====
Init: R2
Sir Karl: (8 + 4 M Lonsword): 12
Giant Skeleton Knight: 16

Karl slashes at the Giant Skeleton (AC 6) with his Magical Longsword (+1)
Thac0 14 vs AC 6 (+1): Need 7+ to hit
[1d20] = 9, hit!
For [1d12+4] = 10 (Half damage slashing vs skeleton) = 5 damage!
The Giant Skeleton is Barely Scratched!

Giant Skeleton bashes (-1 bashing vs Banded mail) at Karl (AC 1) (+1 charging)
Thac0 13 vs AC 1: Need 12+ to hit
[1d20] = 8, miss!
Skeletal Knight [1d20] = 8, [1d12] = 10


Bayard Kicks (bashing) at the Fire Lizard Skeleton (AC 6)
Thac0 19 vs AC 6: Need 13+
(Kick 1) [1d20] = 10, miss!
(Kick 2) [1d20] = 7, miss!

Bayard vs Fire Lizard Skeleton [1d20] = 10, [1d20] = 7


Fire Lizard Skeleton slashes (-2 vs Banded Mail) at Karl (AC 1) with its claws (right and left)
Thac0 11 vs AC 1 (-2): Need 12+
(right) [1d20] = 7, miss!
(left) [1d20] = 4, miss!

Fire Lizard Skeleton bites at Karl (AC 1)
Thac0 11 vs AC 1 (-2): Need 10+
(Bite) [1d20] = 4, miss!


Fire Lizard Skeleton [1d20] = 7, [1d20] = 4, [1d20] = 4

[Jerrard]

Wheeling himself around Karl fights to get his bearings, the smoke couldn't have risen this far could it? Rising above his saddle, pain arching through his back, had the plates of his armor somehow driven into him? Hoping so for his own sake the Knight lowers himself again, forcing the pain to the back of his mind, that was where the pain belonged.

Focusing on the only sense he had worth using he strains to listen through the mail that sits astride his head while his blade and shield are raised, ready for an attack from any direction.

[TristenC]

Sound echoes oddly in the damp air, the rustling of chain and clok... clock... clock of Bayard's hooves reverberating in the dim. The sounds of battle fall farther and farther away, though the pair move cautiously through the night. The well trained warhorse responds to the knight's movements, letting itself be guided by his master's knees. Time and again they turn towards the sound, towards the battle, only to have it drift fainter in the distance.

A sudden lurch from Bayard speaks of uneven footing in the thick fog below, swirling up in eddies and waves about them so heavy he could not even see the ground from the saddle... Another sound echoed through the night then, off to his right... a sound he had heard only once before, but unmistakable as massive claws of bone claws scrape against the hard-packed earth what seemed only paces away...

[Jerrard]

Sword ready the Knight listens to the world as it moves around him, listening to his training the Warrior can but react and respond as things happen.

[TristenC]

Bayard continues to walk, the scraping sound drawing nearer. Jerrard maintains his guard, straining his ears for any sign of attack. A sudden scraping sound and motion in the fog to his left causes Bayard to side step briskly to one side! Suddenly the horse lurches as the ground begins to shift beneath his hooves, threatening to send horse and rider tumbling!

===
Riding check please

[Jerrard]

Riding Check [1d20] = 3 Pass

[TristenC]

[sorry for the delay, I'm moving next weekend and between work and getting the house ready things have been a bit hectic.]

Karl shifts backwards in the saddle, taking as much weight off of his mount's forelegs as possible and raps his heels lightly on Bayard's flanks. In an shallow hop, the young charger clears the unseen hazard and settles into a slightly agitated trot. The scraping sound comes again from farther away, and an odd... crumbling like the noise of dry clumps of earth spilling over a ledge...

[Jerrard]

Restraining the horse as best he can, Karl adjusts the position of the mount trying in vain to move away from what he perceives as being an edge.

Where in Paladines name was he? The un-named village was on the plains, this.. this was not the plains. Had be stumbled into some magical field? He shudders more from the idea of magic affecting him than cold.

[TristenC]

(Apologies for the delays, things have been quite hectic. The main group chapter is closed out and once the next one starts Karl will be in position to join the group very shortly)

With every sense he can manage, Karl does his best to avoid the unseen edge. Bayard moves more tentatively in the fog, but the pair get the sense of a downward slope to the ground. Before long, a strange stillness to the Paladin's left becomes apparent, though the air stirs strangely on the opposite side. Gradually a cliff face comes into view almost within arms reach as the fog begins to dissipate slightly. An eerily glowing moon high above glows a hazy halo through the thinning precipitation.

Finally able to see the ground again, the young man finds his steeds hooves not on a wide plain, but a narrow ledge... Even more perplexing perhaps, a glance back shows the ledge behind even narrower than the path ahead... It was practically impossible that they had wandered that scrawny shelf without tumbling into gods-only-knew what lay below... yet... yet how else could they have come here? With no room to turn about and no way but the steep, crumbly looking trail before, Bayard wickers nervously and plods onward at a hesitant pace..

[Jerrard]

How had he come to this place? Was this some form of black magic designed to delay him? To stop them driving back those foul creatures now the tide had turned?

He had to get back, to help his men, people needed to know, and yet back was not an option, for now he would go on.

"Onwards Bayard, I know, its not easy, stay true."

[TristenC]

The charger, though anxious and young, was well trained. his sure-footed hooves found purchase on the crumbly ledge, though it grew no broader. What seemed like hours in the damp the pair wound down the trail. Steep turns and switchbacks carried them along, not a one wide enough to turn on, so steep that Bayard had almost to sit on his haunches to simply descend... and turning to move back up the trail would have require the steed to rear completely vertically even to have the chance... and with the risk of the misty fall of unknown height below... neither was eager to make that gamble after a long, weary night.

Slowly the fog parted more, only now enough to see a handful of paces about them... a flat, red-clay bed of sun-hardened adobe spread the short distance to the roiling mists... above the white moon hung wan... a mere toenail of it's full glory... and only Solinari, so far as he could tell... nuitari was invisible most nights, black splotch of evil portent that it was... but ... he caught no sign of Lunitari the red either... maybe that was the fog... but Solinari? No... she had been near full but hours past... something even more grave than he previously ken was clearly amiss...

Wandering around the hard baked floor he searched the edges for any outlet... none... it was a box-canyon... still, turnabout he might and back the way he came, but ere long it was clear that the switchback was gone too... how, it seemed impossible to say for certain... except that something wanted him here... wherever here was...

[Jerrard]

"What devilry is this?" Karl utters under his breath, he had poured over maps for hours, this place was unfamiliar, while he claimed no significant skill, he could read the terrain. Every guard knew the stars, years spent outside, patrolling the streets had solidified that knowledge.

Raising high in his saddle he scans the area, making sure to secure his weapons. He had been taught to suffer his wounds, yet here, lost with no hope in sight he allows himself a moment of weakness, wincing in pain, he checks where he can, biding areas with material torn from a spare shirt.

"Well, this looks like a trap, I dislike being channeled, but alas, it is all I can do." Leading the horse onwards he draws his shield about him and suffers onwards.

[TristenC]

Sir Karl secures his bindings as best he can, the wounds stinging in the damp but growing no worse. Glass clinks in the bag hanging from his pommel.. the potion vials all seemed to have made the journey unbroken... Bayard's flanks began to shake as they moved through the damp. Still no way presented itself, the canyon seemed to have no exit in the fog, and he felt certain he had circled back on his tracks many times, though the hard ground left little enough trace to see...

[Jerrard]

Karl's hand goes for potion, then retracts, this happens over and over as he moves through the fog, finally he uncorks the bottle, knocking back the liquid with a single motion, he needed to be at his best to face whatever this was. Onwards he rides, the silence un-nerving.

[TristenC]

The knight hesitates, eventually quaffing the draught... The liquid is sligtly sweet, and tingling sensation comes over his body; particularly around his wounds. The pain and stiffness begin to ebb from him as roughly one third of his injuries close up; healed without scarring...

The silence around seems almost deafening, and still no path nor foe presents itself.. it seemed obvious that he was stuck here for the night.. perhaps this unnatural fog might lift in the daylight and reveal a way out...


====
Sir Karl drinks the Potion of Healing
Sir Karl potion [2d4+2] = 5+2 = 7 hps!
Sir Karl is upgraded from Hurt Badly to Hurt! [22/35 hps]

There are 4 more such vials, and 1 that is similar but a slightly larger,more ornate bottle.