Omen

08 - A few good teeth

First blood

Initiative:
Mouthy: 20
Conora: 13 + 2 = 15
Brutus: 14
Young One: 11
Khine: 6 + 1 = 7

“Alright hold her, hold her. No, you need to … take her legs. Get her on the ground!” Moving in to assist Brutus, Mouthy tries to shove Conora down. Bind her wrists, get her sword, and get out of there as quickly as possible with the cart. That’s the plan. Athletics w Advantage 5 + 1 = 6 vs. 4 + 5 = 9. Conora grunts as the weight of the second guard hits her, but she manages – barely – to stay on her feet.

I need to break free and get clear. I need room to maneuver. Taking a deep breath, she suddenly stands tall and opens her arms wide in an attempt to throw Brutus off. Athletics 1 + 5 = 6 vs. 1 + 1 = 2. The maneuver works, but the back of her head connects with Brutus’ forehead, rattling them both for a brief few seconds. She shakes her head to clear it while she takes a step back and pulls her shield from her shoulder, turning to keep all three men in her sight. She wouldn’t let them get their hands on her again. “If it is your intent to take these children, then you will have to go through me to do it.” she states, shaking her hair out of her eyes and tightening her grip on Noverekas.

“Alright then,” Brutus replies, drawing his own plain shortsword. “Let’s see what you got, lass.” He moves in with a few feints before committing to a series of strikes. Roll 11 + 3 = 14 vs. AC 17. Conora manages to parry and evade his attack.

The Young One is slightly more hesitant, but finally moves in with his own series of quicker strikes, trying to find a hole in her defenses. Roll 2 + 3 = 5. He is thrown by the sudden show of intense resistance by the armor-clad woman. And the crowd, gods they were drawing them in quickly. How is this going to end in any way other than badly for them?

Khine sees his opportunity, moving in behind Mouthy as he backs away from the sudden flurry of blades. Roll 12 + 6 = 18 vs. AC 16. Damage 3 + 4 = 7. He swings the wooden end of his spear around and up into the side of Mouthy’s chin. The blow sends him reeling, and drops of blood and several yellowed teeth sail into the air. There is a collective gasp from the market crowd beginning to form around them.

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