Hundreds of carriages line the soon-to-be battlefield, with men-at-arms pouring forth from them as the kingdom's first line of offense."Brace yourselves, everyone! The dead approach!" the older officer calls out.It doesn't take long for all hell to break loose. Before even the first hundred men storm the once-bountiful field, they are met by twice their number."Christ's blood... they're underneath us," the man in front of you mutters to himself.The look on the man's face is devoid of expression, save for one of rising terror.In contrast to the innermost banqueting fields of your realm, these lands are poisoned by filth and pestilence, brought about by the rise of the undead. Of all the kingdoms on this continent, none have found a permanent solution. Though they may be cut down, for every hundred you kill, countless more seem to rise in their place.It would seem the man is right, however strange it may be. They're somehow learning new tactics as well, their martial prowess increasing considerably.High above, countless crows soar as they circle the battlefield, while vultures waste no time descending upon the promise of a fresh meal.Many soldiers, brave or otherwise, storm the battlefield. The sounds of blades clashing against steel and cutting through flesh echo across the landscape."They've breached the first wall of men!" a lightly armored soldier yells as he spreads the news to the inner lines of defense. His roughly made pistol bangs against the leather equipment at his side as he rushes onward.Still, inside your carriage, the man ahead of you lies frozen in fear. As the battle continues to rise in fervor, time is of the essence.>Quit wallowing in your dread, the enemy feeds off of it!>Push the frozen soldier aside. His frozen form is an embarrassing example of this armies morale>Put your hand on his shoulder. Reassure him that though we may die, we do it for our homeland.
>>6442993>>Push the frozen soldier aside. His frozen form is an embarrassing example of this armies moraleAwesome premise!
>>6442993I really hope we have some magic to counter the undead...otherwise they'll use attrition to grind us down to nothing eventually. Plus tireless and no logistics.>Put your hand on his shoulder. Reassure him that though we may die, we do it for our homeland.
>>6442993>>Push the frozen soldier aside. His frozen form is an embarrassing example of this armies morale
>>6442993>Push the frozen soldier aside"You waste our time, coward!" You say, calling out the man in front of you. He turns to face you, but it's not for long as your powerful grip gets to his shoulder you and push him aside. Your musclebound form is no joke! the ease of effort it took to move the soldier aside deters some of the braver soldiers from intervening. You're brutish build is honed with long days spent on the training grounds!You have the passive 'Broad Shoulders' making attack rolls and others that require strength checks gain a bonus of +1!The screams of other soldiers can be heard both in triumph and dying terror. Morale is quite mixed around your brethren. The sight of such demoralized spirit sends a jolt down your body when you spot one of the more hopeless looking whelps. "BASTARDS!" You roar as the chest of equipment is revealed to you. Frantically digging around the mix of weaponry at disposal, you desperately search for your main wielding. Those sons of whores! Christ banish them all, if they dare forgot your weapon. You eventually find it though, further plundering into the many scattered items and assortments. Your days spent on the training grounds of your kingdom, you only got to engage in light sparring for the most part. Being a low ranking soldier, you don't face many of the more renowned knights of your realm, if save for a good laugh amongst nobles that are and have been. The chest fumbles forward almost as you pull out the weapon.Finally, you have...>'Ivory Pillar' - The two handed blade you were once given as a whelp. It's metal reflects the sunlight from the darkening sky as if the dawn shone on you all. It was originally given to you as a weight training tool, though now you can nearly wield it efficiently with one hand>'Lionheart' - A short sword and wooden shield with your childs scribblings all over it. Lionheart is messily scribbled via finger with ink on the middle of the shield. It's not much to look at, but it's been a lucky charm.>Bloody spiked gloves. They are far too worn out to be given a special name or have something on them. The gloves are rusted from use and much of the spikes are decorated with miniscule remnants of organs and permanent blood marks. >'Enchantments Of The Saharan Kingdoms' - A tome gifted to you by one of your teachers from when you were younger. The contents of it vaguely explain turning the tides of battle to your favor through outside means. A foreign short sword styled with a curve sits atop the book. The back of the tome has a stamp that accredits the location of this book previously belonged to some fantastical library from one of the sand covered kingdoms.
>>6443032>>Bloody spiked gloves. They are far too worn out to be given a special name or have something on them. The gloves are rusted from use and much of the spikes are decorated with miniscule remnants of organs and permanent blood marks.This fucking rules...
>>6443032>>'Lionheart' - A short sword and wooden shield with your childs scribblings all over it. Lionheart is messily scribbled via finger with ink on the middle of the shield. It's not much to look at, but it's been a lucky charm.
>>6443032>Bloody spiked gloves. They are far too worn out to be given a special name or have something on them. The gloves are rusted from use and much of the spikes are decorated with miniscule remnants of organs and permanent blood marks. Pretty metal.
>>6443032>>Bloody spiked gloves. They are far too worn out to be given a special name or have something on them. The gloves are rusted from use and much of the spikes are decorated with miniscule remnants of organs and permanent blood marks.
>>6443032>'Ivory Pillar' - The two handed blade you were once given as a whelp. It's metal reflects the sunlight from the darkening sky as if the dawn shone on you all. It was originally given to you as a weight training tool, though now you can nearly wield it efficiently with one hand
>>6443032>Bloody spiked glovesYour pair of murder mitts—at least, that's what the tavern regulars call them.They've definitely seen better days. The rusted metal of the fist-shaped gauntlets is caked in grime, blood, and hardened entrails that are nearly impossible to remove. Putting them on always makes you a little giddy. The last time you used them in a real fight, you nearly drove your fist straight through a man's skull. The fleeting memory brings a grin to your face.After receiving all your gear, you hop down from the carriage and onto the soiled ground. The light, airy earth is trampled beneath your heavy frame, crushing whatever life it once held."The smoke is getting closer," you mutter to yourself.Clenching your fists inside the padded interior of the metal gauntlets, you watch as thick trails of smoke steadily creep toward your line of troops."Abominations..." one of the lesser warriors mutters.FWOOSH!Pillars of fire erupt before the inner wall of men, interlocking with one another to form a blazing barrier. No doubt the priests are working alongside the named knights and the sons of noble houses.You move closer to your troop's defensive line. Some men stand in tight formations, their spears angled toward the ground in case the enemy attempts any surprise attacks from below."Bastards. Of course the royalty got the Chantry's summons," one of the soldiers grumbles.Others nod in agreement, while some wisely keep their opinions to themselves.The shouts, death cries, and sounds of battle from the defensive wall a short distance away carry across the field. A lightly armed messenger comes sprinting toward your camp on foot."A WITCH HAS BEEN SIGHTED AMONG THE DEAD! A HAGGARD BITCH IS AIDING THE ABOMINATIONS!" he cries as he rushes to warn the inner defenses.It isn't much longer before you see them.Some have their entrails spilling from torn stomachs, their flesh blackened and rotting in an advanced state of decomposition. Others wear battered armor, leaving them marginally more intact than the rest. They advance in a steady march, and many still clutch weapons in lifeless hands.>Charge out with the first release from the troop>Stay back from first release and see what more of the undead come>Curse the witches aid, fight sparingly with the first wave and try to gain sight of the devilled hag
>>6443052>Charge out with the first release from the troop
>>6443052>Curse the witches aid, fight sparingly with the first wave and try to gain sight of the devilled hag
>>6443052>Charge out with the first release from the troopRIP AND TEAR
>>6443052>>Charge out with the first release from the troop
>Curse the witch, seek her out>Help the first assaultRoll a 1d20+1 for efficiency No DC the higher the number the better_________________________________________________THE WAY ROLLS WORK IN THIS QUEST:-The highest roll will be applied to the end result-No 'first of' rule, everyone can roll once-Rolls are no longer counted after I announce I'm updating-20's and 1's take priority and can only be cancelled by each other in which case the next best roll will take precedence
Rolled 1 + 1 (1d20 + 1)>>6443209EZ PZ punch that Bitch in the Teezy
Rolled 16 (1d20)>>6443209
>>6443220I'll pretend this one has the modifier added to it.
Rolled 13 + 1 (1d20 + 1)>>6443209Pleaseee
>Highest roll was a 17Pretty good start
>>6443441Anon...>>6443209>20's and 1's take priority and can only be cancelled by each other in which case the next best roll will take precedence;_____;
>>6443444That's the QM
1/2>>6443209Rolled a 1..You roar thunderously as you charge straight into the nearest confrontation. Your feet stomping across the soft, rotting land, you find it hard to catch your footing. Eventually, you end up tripping over one of the spearmen formations trying to keep the dead from rising under everyone. The unfortunate man you do end up trampling over is not only crushed by your heavy, trained body, but also his own spear has managed to pierce through his leg. "HENRY?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!" One of the other recovering spearmen screams at you. The men are completely thrown off from formation. The abominations take this opportunity, as if a learned tactic, emerge from below some of the men. The spearmen are being dragged underground, their armor torn off, and are being eaten as flesh gnaws off into clumps for the hungry hell spawn. Doing your best, you get back on your feet and quickly. Competently managing to at least seriously injure the rising dead who try to get you. You feel as if your Legend has taken a hit..Legend: Bold but stupidYou can now taunt enemies with your status in the world, lowering their DC's needed for each roll if successful. The higher or lower your Legend is, the better your success rate.There's no time, you need to leave the men to their fate. You clumsily charge through the formation, fighting incredibly sparingly in your effort to assist the initial assault. Your armor isn't very banged up, but you are definitely bruising, their attacks still manage to land on you as they pummel and tear away at your fabric and metal armor. In spite of their efforts, you manage to walk out relatively ok. But your body is really beginning to feel it!Your overall status has changed to Unsteady!"Where is this blighted apostate!" You demand to the open field, seeking the witch. Doesn't she ever arrive..BOOM!A wave of thunder slams atop the blighted soil. Small flames conjure from the outskirts of the blast. There she is, there's no doubt in your mind that's her. Her black, thinly made robes cascade down her body. Though her figure is very plentiful, blessed by the gods herself if not for her taboo status. Her pale complexion is matched against her fiery red hair as it spills to her shoulders."Quite a good show, young man," she begins to say, a grin spreading across her expression. She puts a hand on her chest, pushing the fabric down tighter to her body, revealing the form of her generous breasts. Something is wrong.. this is no witch. Not one you've heard tale of anyway, you feel so strange.Something is messing with your head!You can't look away from this fine lady. Her generous proportions are more than enticing to you, why would you fight her when you've impressed her anyway! You think to yourself.>Something's not right try and snap out of it!>Her body is sent from Heaven! Claim your gift
>>6443452>Something's not right try and snap out of it!RIP AND TEAR! WE ARENT *THAT* STUPID!
>>6443452>>Something's not right try and snap out of it!Oh no she's hot! Wait a second, witches are supposed to be ugly, warty things, with off-color skin, scraggly hair and big fucking noses. Hold on I am being informed that is something else, witches are supposed to have big hats. Which she lacks. Clever girl.
>>6443452>>Something's not right try and snap out of it!
>>6443452>>Her body is sent from Heaven! Claim your gift
