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Yngvar's Achievements


Apprentice (3/16)

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  1. Yngvar only shrugs in reply. "I dare say they know the city well. And there are likely magicks to ease journeys. Still. It's interesting that a brawl of this size attracts such attention. I'm beginning to suspect someone may have been setting us up." He carefully lays his axe on a table beside him. Careful to not make any sudden moves. Mentally he reaches out to his familiar, perched on a roof across the way, among a murder of crows. With a mental command, he sends it winging away in search of the rest of the party, the small disk with Yngvars rune glinting briefly in the light from where it was tied to it's leg. It could mimic speech well enough to get the gist of the situation across, though it would not speak till privacy was acquired. "Regardless, assaulting this many guards would be folly, so cooperation is our best option for now." In a lower tone, pitched so just Albereich would hear it "I've sent word to the others."
  2. To Hit [Kaoleth] 1:51 am: Ah. Kaoleth *rolls* 1d20: 10: 10 [Noir] 1:52 am: I think that is a total of +7 for you [Kaoleth] 1:52 am: Yeah. [Noir] 1:52 am: so 17 [Kaoleth] 1:52 am: So 17 all told. Damage Kaoleth *rolls* 1d10: 8+4: 12 [Noir] 1:58 am: for love level people, 12 is a probably a huge portion of their hit points at least Yngvar silently snarls in pain, one hand clamped automatically to the wound in his side. It would be so easy. Just one word and he could turn both of these wretches to twitching corpses. But it would announce to all and sundry their presence. Wizards were viewed with suspicion virtually everywhere and throwing around magic was one of the fastest ways to cause a panicked riot. He draws his hand away from his side, it had only been there a fraction of a second, but was already liberally coated. He scowls fiercely at the apparent leader of the group, the one egging them on, and throws out his hand, flicking a stream of ruby droplets into the mans eyes. In the brief flinch that follows, he frasps his axe in a heavy two handed stance, bringing it down in the juncture of the mans neck, burying the head almost to the hilt in his chest. Pulling it out with a grunt and a wet squelch, he turns to his last opponent. "Last Chance. On. Your. Knees."
  3. Kaoleth *rolls* 1d20: 6+7: 13 [Kaoleth] 11:57 pm: Thank christ for proficiencies, is all I will say. [Kaoleth] 11:58 pm: o.O Yngvar snarled as the chair went flying and the men went for his knives, grabbing his axe and flipping it into a reverse grip.He dashed after the chair, landing heavily on the thugs chest with one knee, the pointed beard of his axe digging into the soft palate of the mans chin, the blade resting down the length of his throat. A single drop of blood trailed along the edge of the blade. "Is it really worth my opening your throat? Leave, now, and the gods won't have another soul to play with." He hissed, blue eyes fever bright.
  4. Woo! Escalation! =3 [Kaoleth] 9:37 am: Mind witnessing my Initiative roll for Thule? [Noir] 9:38 am: sure [Kaoleth] 9:38 am: Ok. Just making sure. Think my initiative is +2 Kaoleth *rolls* 1d20: 14+2: 16 [Kaoleth] 9:39 am: Not bad. [Noir] 9:39 am: nice
  5. Yngvar sighs. And he had been having fun too. The group had certainly gone a long way towards getting him to loosen up a bit. He catches the eye of the young Women, nodding towards the back of the room and relative safety. This was probably gonna get ugly. He glances down to where the leader's hand is resting against his knife before snorting. Idly bringing out the war axe at his own waist and laying it on the table beside him, the razor edge of it glinting menacingly in the light.. A bass growl issuing forward. "Draw that Knife and I'll feed you the hand that does it." The glare he was giving them could have frozen a troll at 50 paces. Was it colder in here, all of a sudden?
  6. Yngvar sat back, tankard in hand as he assessed the Barbarian, content for the moment to let Alberich to steer the conversation. The proposal itself was interesting. Most races had a fondness for gold and the Nimothans favoured it more than most others. Few peoples raided as heavily as his did and the primary motivation in it was wealth. The real value here, though, was in making friends. A warrior was only as strong as his shield brother, and having the favour of a Warlord was not something to sneer at. He takes a draft from his mug before his eyes settled on Alberich, a single eyebrow raised in query.
  7. Kaoleth *rolls* 1d6: 1: 1 [Kaoleth] 9:17 pm: ........ lame. xD
  8. Yngvar will continue. He has much unfinished business. =3
  9. Collapsing building's, Yngvar reflected to himself, were loud affairs. Sprinting for the stairs, he leapt over a section that had already collapsed to the floor below. He hadn't honestly expected quite this response when he attempted to topple the tree. He had to chide himself for that. The Gods love their practical jokes and dying to the archtecture after surviving the beast sounds like exactly the sort of thing they would derive amusement from. He grunted, sidestepping a splintered beam that would have taken his head off otherwise. Risking a quick glance over the railing beside him, he judged the height survivable. He vaults over the side, hitting the ground and rolling to bleed off excess momentum, coming out of it at a dead sprint for the door. It always surprised people to see. They heard mage and expected a scrawny weed. The furs did a good job of hiding it, but he was Nimothan first and foremost and was built more along the lines of Eingar than Malok. Clearing the doorway he glances back up as another floor collapses inwards. At least they would not have to fear being killed by it toppling over. Now out of the way of danger, he makes his way over to Neeva and Malok, eyes flicking briefly over the naked sacrifice. He shrugs off the his outer furs, revealing the chain he wore underneath, a bandoleer containing the paraphernelia of his craft crossing his chest in addition to his spellbook, hung over one shoulder by a strap crossing between the pouches of the bandoleer.. At his waist, a crystal and a large pouch. "For the girl" he grunts, offering the furs to Neeva.
  10. Yngvar could feel the wellspring that he drew from to power his spells running dry. At the rate they were going, it was unlikely that he would have much more to contribute to the fight. Particularly if there were any more surprises in store for them. Eyes darting around, he settles on the cracks in the floor, and the summoning circle nearby, likely providing an anchor. Glancing once at the tree dominating the area, an idea takes root. Darting towards the tree he shouts a warning "Give me as much space as you can. I will attempt to destroy the circle. With it's bindings gone, it should prove easier prey." If not outright banishing it, he finishes silently. Best not raise too many hopes if it had the power to remain once the circle was destroyed. Stopping in position to one side of the tree he takes a deep breath. This would either work spectacularly, or blow up in his face..... quite literally. He draws the last of his reserves to the fore, the incantation refining the energy into something more angry, straining on it's leash. With a final word, he directs the built up spell into the ground in front of him, the crack of thunder once more sounding through the night, accompanied by the splintering of stone as shards are sent scything into the dark. With a groan of protesting wood that is more felt in the bones than heard, the tree begins to topple.
  11. [Kaoleth] 2:17 am: All right then. Damage. [Noir] 2:17 am: cool [Kaoleth] 2:17 am: For Witchbolt after the first turn it's 1d12. So here we go. [Jeremy] 2:17 am: scrutinizing Kaoleth *rolls* 1d12: 11: 11 [Kaoleth] 2:17 am: Woo! So 11 damage all told. Yngvar adjusted his stance, murmuring the incantation to keep his spell active. The beam pulsing in time with the cadence, electricity arcing around the impact.
  12. Yngvar hummed at the carnage of his first spell, a satisfied expression on his features. "Acceptable." Allowing Alberich to take position ahead of him, he begins laying the groundwork for his next spell, the tang of Ozone growing. Barely a second later, he hesitates, something uneasy curling in his gut. Perhaps it best to keep that in reserve. Assume the worst, that this wasn't the height of resistance to be expected. Idly dismissing some of the gathered energy and reshaping the rest, an ember flickers to life in his hands, before bursting into true fire with a click of his fingers. With a casual gesture, he sends the mote sailing through the air at the cultist leader. Actions: Casting Firebolt at the Cultist leader. [Kaoleth] 12:18 am: So, in the interest of setting someone on fire. Kaoleth *rolls* 1d20: 18+7: 25 [Kaoleth] 12:18 am: That should hit cultist leader guy.] [Kaoleth] 12:18 am: I think. [Noir] 12:18 am: and my Bane will be hitting him before this attack, Kao [Kaoleth] 12:18 am: Nina? [Noir] 12:19 am: so he will be at -1d4 to saving throws. heh [Nina] 12:19 am: yes [Kaoleth] 12:19 am: Excellent. [Kaoleth] 12:19 am: Damage is 1d10. [Kaoleth] 12:19 am: So, Kaoleth *rolls* 1d10: 9: 9 [Kaoleth] 12:19 am: *nods* [Kaoleth] 12:19 am: Not too bad. [Kaoleth] 12:19 am: One firebolt. Express delivery.
  13. At the top of the stairs, Yngvar pauses, taking a brief moment to survey the area before beginning quietly. "A suggestion, if you would humour me. Allow me to get close before attacking. I have several abilities that, once you are engaging I would be loathe to use. They are rather indiscriminate in their effects on those caught within. While I can target it to avoid the sacrifice, I would not be able to say the same for you." A flicker of electricity crawls over one hand, dancing between his fingers. "Also, Alberich, if you would see fit to accompany me, I would appreciate you keeping them out of arms reach to the best of your abilities. I work best when I have the space to concentrate. My follow up spell will require me to stand still, though the effects should be worth the lack of mobility." A brief smirk passes over his features before setting back into calm neutrality. "It will be obvious when to strike, but do please await it." Move: Yngvar will move forward till he is standing in the square diagonally adjacent to the cultist leader, just by the tree. Action: When everyone is in Place, Yngvar will drop Thunderwave. It affects a 15 foot cube originating from Ingvar, so he should be able to hit the Cultist Leader and 6 Cultists on the left side of the circle formation. It requires them to make a Constitution check which, if failed, will deal 2d8 Damage to everyone and push them 10 feet away from me. If they pass, they only take half damage and are not pushed. Log: [Kaoleth] 12:04 am: Nina. Rolling 2d8 for damage on my spell. If any of them pass a con check, that person only takes half damage. [Kaoleth] 12:04 am: So, rolling now. Kaoleth *rolls* 2d8: 3+6: Nina started roflcoptering, so I'm assuming she's all right with that.
  14. [Kaoleth] 11:57 pm: Ty. Witness Initiative for me? [Noir] 11:57 pm: sure Kaoleth *rolls* 1d20: 5+2: 7 [Kaoleth] 11:57 pm: Not as good as the last time. Ah well. Damage is all I *really* care about. [Noir] 11:57 pm: you can post in the IC any preparations you make before entering too So going on an Initiative of 7 for now.
  15. At the mention of masked Northmen, Yngvar felt a single brow raise. Those masks sounded explicitly familiar. Though it was unlikely any of his own tribe were involved. They would have noticed that many of their own abroad, and of those who were dispatched to hunt down the relics, there was no way that enough of them got here before him (at least a month before him, no less) to facilitate such a ritual. Perhaps those members of Eingar's tribe they saw in passing earlier? Though they themselves looked incapable of conjuring the tiniest spark, there was a chance one of their travelling companions had the talent. "These masked Northmen sound familiar. Do you have any further description of them? Given what you have said, I now have suspicions." He lapsed back into silence with that, thoughts flitting through his head. If this tribe had, in fact, been involved in the theft of relics he would be..... most irate. Some suitable chastisement would need to be meted out.
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