Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors Campaign in the lands of Legend.

( Likely 2 more rounds.)

Irritated with himself and the way the battle seemed to be favoring thier opponents, Ori moves to the man with a spear in him. Ori removes the spear and looks back at the probable captin and the to the one who put out the fire. "Put this out." He hurles the spear at the magic man.

Attack with disadvantage due to range: 14 for 9 damage.

With their numbers dwindling, breaking the morale of the attackers seems more urgent than ever, especially given their inability to set the marauders' vessel ablaze.  Cainneach again focuses and takes aim at the massive mage (assuming Ori didn't fell him, otherwise aims at the Captain).

Longbow - Attack vs. War Mage?: 22, damage (piercing): 16 w/Hunter's Mark

Quote from Engineered_Beard >>

Irritated with himself and the way the battle seemed to be favoring thier opponents, Ori moves to the man with a spear in him. Ori removes the spear and looks back at the probable captin and the to the one who put out the fire. "Put this out." He hurles the spear at the magic man.

Attack with disadvantage due to range: 14 for 9 damage.

Quote from EtyenAndiros >>

With their numbers dwindling, breaking the morale of the attackers seems more urgent than ever, especially given their inability to set the marauders' vessel ablaze.  Cainneach again focuses and takes aim at the massive mage (assuming Ori didn't fell him, otherwise aims at the Captain).

Longbow - Attack vs. War Mage?: 23, damage (piercing): 13 w/Hunter's Mark

Vardi sighted on the enemy captain and loosed another arrow.

Attack: 12 Damage: 4

Thrown impossibly far by Oris strength the spear thudded into the deck before the huge man, moments later Vardis arrow landed in front of the captain to his right....then Cainneachs shaft bristled in the war priests chest and he coughed  a little blood then spat and grinned and roared at the sky in glee.

( Famh is up)

Famh continues holding her dweomer until the enemy draws closer....

( Thatch is up)

(sorry for the long AFK ... I've been basically the main person with both time and functional energy to see to it the solstice holidays went well for self. friend and mom ... just let me catch up a bit and see if I can't come up with somethng more useful  and interesting for Famh to do.)

Famh has been too busy with her plans to serve as an improvised arbalest to notice the floating jellyfish up to now; but she happens to be turning to get another stone just as they flush purple; and she is immediately overwhelmed with a wave of compassion for the poor creatures, dragged so unnaturally from their natural home to hover in such a strange position.  She reaches out her hand, cooing softly, “Och, ye puir things … ”

(presuming they react as expected given the creature being homebrewed over; otherwise ignore following until re-edited to fit actual circumstances )

(DC 10 DEX save to dodge jellyfishes' spray attack 10; if missed, I'll edit in  new dice rolls for her subsequent actions to reflect the disADV)  As soon as Famh has somewhat recovered from her initial shock and dismay at the distinctly unfriendly display of these wee bonnie jellyfish that she failed to notice in time, her face quickly flushes to match the fiery colour of her hair and her e’en to burn with an outraged ire.  Had she still thought herself the only combatant on the field who could wield the powers of sorcery, she might have been able to reason out that they had come in response to one of those strange fey currents that stir the air in Tir na n’og which lies just beside and slightly askew to this mortal world; and remember that her magic had been alternately plagued and blessed by just such strange and crack-humoured happenings ever since she discovered the Gift.  But given Cainneach’s recent warning and the subsequent evidences that there is a warlock among the foe, she has no reason to suppose that the creatures were not summoned by him.  She even imagines that had her flaming stone not forced them to reveal themselves prematurely, they might have reached the Baron with their insidious vapours as their attacker had surely intended.   And if they hadn’t reached him, then they mught have sprayed their horrid miasma all over the mast and bulkheads and disabled everyone aboard the Avocet with nausea.

An inadvertent sniff before she can fully stop her nose brings certain unpleasant memories from the retinue’s journey north flashing across her mind, and she mutters a brief and fervent prayer: “Och, Laird Gatanades, nae!” Then, after a brief pause, “Or at the least, Laird, grant me that the cure will no prove the same; I could niver front the task o’ skinnin’ ane o’ those slimy things for soup … !“

But the purity and serenity of Famh’s soul in prayer is quickly overcast again by the sin of anger as her eyes fix on the huge baldhead in a resentful glare. “Ye think ye’re sae clever, dinna ye?,” she mutters between clenched teeth. “Weel, twa can play at yon game, as ye’re soon tae find!”  She is briefly brought to pause by the reflection that she doesn’t actually know any glamours to summon creatures from the deep; but a subsequent thought brings the sparkle and snap back into her countenance again, and even to summon an impishly mischievous look as her glance drifts sideways slightly to take in the massing reivers as they prepare to cross the ever-narrowing gap between their ship and the Avocet… >;*D   In the meantime, though, she sees no reason to express her displeasure with the enemy war priest in a more direct fashion ... 

===***===

Action this round: [spell]Chaos bolt]/spell] at the war priest 24, at 2nd lv.  Damage - bl**dy complicated LOL ... 2d8 (rolled separately bc. the first one determines damage type for this spell) 2 + 8, plus 2d6 (one for the basic spell and one for the extra spell slot) 4

Held action until just before the drakkar’s crew tries to board the Avocet: minor illusion of the mighty arm of Aegir  reaching up from the depths to drag the boarders down in his crushing fist, while Famh departs from her usual practice and loudly chants incantations in which the name of Aegir is artfully and conspicuously inserted in a way that will not mar the magic; placed so that it bursts from the depths just far enough from them that they would not expect to feel the spray and thus will not detect its illusory nature by touch.

(OOC: probably won’t hold up to inspection very long when/if she does cast it; but Famh’s purpose isn't to halt them permanently so much as to scare and startle them long enough to make them freeze and hopefully let the party have a free round of shots at them before they figure it out and resume their advance /// … perhaps with a certain RED in their eyes as they figure out how Famh’s befooled them)

Famhs witchflame flies over the enemy crew drawing the large mans eyes to her small frame as someone to note.......

( Thatch is up)

Thatch’s mouth hangs open in disbelief as the burly mage plucks the arrows from his chest like they were nothing and roars at the sky. “By the all the gods, how is he still standing?”

Glancing around the wave tossed ships, Thatch notices the jellyfish floating away from Famh and tries to press them into service as reluctant allies.  He rubs the burnished metal of his ring and images and words in an unfamiliar language spring into his mind as he speaks to the jellyfish, urging them to swarm against the oncoming raiders. “They are after you, they are after all of us.  Drive them back! Protect yourselves!”

The weirdly floating jellyfish begin undulating towards the drakkar even as its oarsmen put on a burst of speed and its draconic prow crashes into the stern of the Avocet.

The enemy captain roars and bites the inside of his cheek filling his mouth with blood and moving far faster and further than his crew leaps up onto the prow at astonishing speed surprising Father Cadfael as he swings his axe at the priest twice.

Captain Jarv vs Father Cadfael- Attack: 13 Damage: 12

Captain Jarv vs Father Cadfael- Attack: 16 Damage: 5

The archers shift their aim to Baron Aldred and his men.

Attack vs MaA: 14 Damage: 9

Attack vs Baron: 17 Damage: 10

Attack vs MaA: 10 Damage: 5

Attack vs MaA2: 11 Damage: 12

Attack vs MaA2: 16 Damage: 10

The rest of the enemy crew press forward but are not as nimble as their captain so must wait until the ships are truly joined....

The huge shaved headed storm witch festooned with injuries looks to the bow and reaches out a hand....the wooden draconic head of the drakkar animates and bites down on the Avocets stern holding the two ships joined together.

Father Cadfael ducks under both of the enemy Captains wild blows.

Baron Aldreds men are struck by arrows, one by two and one by one but they hold their ground, Baron Aldred takes an arrow in the shoulder but simply laughs, " Is that the best you can do?"

Baron Aldred and his men move up onto the stern of the Avocet and surround the enemy captain slashing at him, in the close quarters of the ship Baron Aldred draws two dirks and slashes at the enemy captain.

Attack: 8 Damage: Unable to parse dice roll. +20

Attack: 24 Damage: 5 +10

His men draw their own blades and have at it.

Attack: 16 Damage: 9

Attack: 17 Damage: 11

Attack: 8 Damage: 6

Attack: 7 Damage: 4

Father Cadfael intones a sombre prayer over Baron Aldred. ( Sanctuary)

The attacks on the enemy captain seem to have little effect on his demeanour but you see some have drawn blood.

( Ori-, Cainneach, Famh and Vardi are up.)

https://photos.app.goo.gl/9kGUkd7F7PdnaS4N6

"Protect the.. THEM" Ori wasn't sure if these bandits knew who they were attacking and didn't want to thriw out names and titles without knowing how this was going to go. Ori draws the hand axes from the straps on his back, choosing to leave his club behind. The battle was far from going thier way when at distance so now he could do his thing now thatbthey are close. The other ships captin was surely a formidable foe behaving as he is. But he did provide an opportunity to isolate him from the rest of his crew. Ori needed to use his size to block the rest of that crew from boarding. Ori set off to this makeshift bridge between the ships. (Ori would like to move such that he could "block" entry by the makeshift bridge, he woukd also like to start to break the makeshift bridge with his Adamantine handaxes.) "GET OFF MY DECK!" (Ori will Rage)

Salt bristles with anger and excitement as the foes have nearly come within range of the hound.  Cainneach urges Salt to heel, to hold for just a bit longer so that the invaders fully pass onto the ship before unleashing his assault upon them.  Looking down at his faithful beast, Cainneach is surprised to see Salt appear larger, emanating a faint aura that swirls into the sea spray clouding the deck, and more menacing than he could ever recall.  Shaking off his puzzlement at this development, the ranger pulls the hound along and makes his way to cover on the "southeast" corner of the deck.  From there he can take another shot at the towering storm witch.

Longbow - Attack vs. Storm Witch: 25, damage (piercing): Unable to parse dice roll. w/Hunter's Mark

Famh's eyes flash with incandescent sparks that blaze even brighter than the fiery hue of her long and decidedly unruly scarlet tresses, or the angry crimson of her countenance as her Ethlinn-quick wits begin to rein in the wild balefire of the proverbial macMuiredach temper* – at least enough to wield it in the most intelligent and effective fashion in the stead of such wild brandishings as she suddenly feels she has been indulging in. She begins to swear under her breath, calmly, in a barely audible ...

… well, perhaps not so …

          … uh, no, actually everyone can hear her quite clearly as she draws in a deep breath that fills out the shoulder pauldrons of the gambeson she borrowed from Vardi and in a bitterly calm voice that terrifies those that know her far worse than any histrionics squeezes out between the wine presses of her lips and teeth, "Weel, Ah've made MESELF oot the glaikit idjit eke day, forgettin' Marrowglen and whit Ah THOWT would be sae clever agin yon fachan and aboot a half an hundred wee scraps ere an' sin ... thouch Ah shoudnae iver hae missit the chance tae see hoo Sir Digby micht dance if he were tae suddenly be surnamit 'Hotfoot' and ah’ll bitterly regret it if ah miss ... “   Her lips slowly curl up into a wicked smile at this point as she gazes upon the WOODEN dragon prow currently grappling the Avocet ., and the crowd of enemies clustered thickly around it . . ... 

===***===

• Action: create bonfire shaped to a narrow rectangle of fire starting at the animated figurehead's neck, far enough from Ori to not put him at risk but as close as possible after that to burn as much of this improvised gangplank as may be ... however wide the figurehead is, the narrowest dimension of Famh's fire will overlap it by a foot either way in an attempt to burn through the narrowest part of the neck holding it attached to the drakkar.  From there she wants a fire stretching along the spine of the enemy ship, far enough to engulf the mainmast with flame if possible, and if you don't mind doing the math I think she'd be clever enough to progressively narrow the rectangle as it went along into something more like a long paralellogram in order to gain more length in the place of the width she sacrifices ... maybe narrow it 1' for every 3' it travels?  if there's enough AOE to play with she'd want flames high enough to threaten rigging, booms and the large square mainsail,  but with a 5' cube to work with I don't know that that's realistic.  At minimum she's trying to get it as close to the base of the mast as possible and hope that that spar is reasonably dry and well-pitched so it will kindle of itself and send the fire up to where it can begin to involve the ropes.
• If I'm interpreting the map correctly she still ought to be able to place the fire close enough to give at least some of the incipient boarders a 'hotfoot'  without endangering Ori, and even if she can't reach the mast her fire might at least threaten the archers also... DEX 12 save for everyone who winds up in the AOE ... not sure of the exact scale of the map so I'll leave that to D_M who that includes ...  to avoid 1d8 fire damage each (2)), 

(to be continued)

=========

* (macMuiredach is essentially Famh's clan for those not intricately versed enough in the ins and outs of the Thulish system to know how the Fiadhaichs became a separate sept (sub-clan or smaller family WITHIN the clan) under the macMuiredach laird some hundreds of years before ... well, as I said, its complicated LOL)

           The fiery-tempered Brymstonewoman takes an even deeper breath of the invigorating sea air of her native coast; and that brings a reminiscent smile to Vardi's lips at the way it swells out once more ... certain portions of her girlhood gambeson that tend to be of CONCERN to lasses about the age the Lyften lass was when that gambeson was made, and which she imagines were also perhaps a greater part of FAMH's conscious awareness at that age than was necessary ... well, until she met Cainneach.   And all the vigour which poured into Famh's frame as she drew herself up one moment, rings out the next in a voice as clear and carrying as her mortal frame can accommodate as she glares across from where she stands and screams straight towards the huge baldhead that has become the focus of her frustrated wrath,

"AYE, TRY TAE QUENCH YON, YE SLEEKIT FAZARD JOUKER, YE WHOREPOX-CURSIT GET 'TWIXT A MANDRAKE MYMMERKIN and a BLOODY YALDSON WANDAUGHT!!!!  . . . - . . .YE’RE NO A RAVEN, YE’RE A THIEVIN’ MAGPIE WHAE STOLE YER BAWS FRAE ANE O’ FREYJA’S SACRIFICIAL VIXENS WHEN SHE WENT TAE USE THE PISS POT, THA MITHER WIS A DRY-BAGGIT STENCH COW WHAE HELA BANISHIT TAE THIS WORLD WHEN SHE COULDNA STAND HER FOUL REEK STINKIN’ OOP THE PLACE ANE SECOND MAIR, AND ... "

 The irruption of Emphidian fire that bursts out from Famh's storm-tossed bosom next moment, while decidedly unladylike, is notable for the more than compensatory breadth and richness of its comprehensive variety of sources, ranging from half-remembered and perhaps but ill-understood Selentine (rough IRL equivalent: Latin) maledictions from the Old Covenant of the tribes that lived in the Holy Land ere Gatanades cam’ tae redeem us all; to highly creative and graphically anatomical Mercanian sailors’ curses that the baldhead probably even understands the unspoken dialectical nuances of tribal implication of, since they are drawn from Famh’s rich and deeply rooted experience of their shared Thulish coastal homeland. But mixed liberally among the vastly comprehensive territory that these two extremes cover are epithets which perhaps the war priest or Baron Aldred understand, but which might as well be Old Kaikuhuran (rIRLe: Egyptian) as far as the rest of the combatants on the field can make out other than her own companions’ educated guess that they had probably been taught her by some of the … ah … less reverent and perhaps slightly less reputable … or sober … among the ollamhs and filidhs of Carnasse and therefore could be drawn from any language in heaven or hell or this wide wide world between.

===***===

Bonus action if D_M rules this is plausible or at least possible: Reverse bardic inspiration / INTIM.  :

(hm.  That bonfire apparently is doing dice rolls not available for this section fire damage.  :Let's try that again .... 6)

Ori roars and races across the deck and up onto the makeshift landing platform, Cainneach moves behind some cover and fires at the towering shaman, the arrow catches in the mans forehead jutting out from his skull, but though he sways dangerously for a moment still he does not fall.

Famh calls up sorcerous flames which erupt out of the decking besides Ori....effectively blocking off access to the Avocet unless one wanted to be both burnt and risk Oris wrath.

Vardi moves up beside Thatch, fires her bow at the massed berserkers then drops the bow and dons sword and hammer to protect Thatch.

Attack: 14 Damage: 9