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[Caellath]

((Could you also show our updated stats? I'm a bit lazy to add them myself. ))

A little too late, Mordekhai realized the draconian had been downed. He had saved an innocent, but he still had failed in his duty when the brave sabre-wielding warrior was killed. His gaze ran across the battlefield; both the sorcerers had been dealt with, but the continued assault of lesser enemies had taken down a member of his group.

In a way or another, that was his fault. His teeth clenched almost to the point of breaking as he stared at the undead moved in to desecrate the body of the fallen warrior. His vision finally turned into a red mist.

And there was only anger.

Defend the draconian's corpse, smash through the guards and bring down the flail upon them.

((Also, Crimson, any requests as to what to do about your corpse and items?))

[V-Norrec]

((They are updated on the third post, this will put you at +1 Intuiton, +1 Athletics, +1 Melee, +3 Damage Resist.))

Edit:  ((Tiruin will be joining the party.))

[CrimsonEon]

((F*CK, Welp that's how the dice roll .))

Spoiler: Death Scene (click to show/hide)

Shruick pulled back as the armless zombie continued it's frenzy, he barely manages to pull his sabre to check each blow as it reaches him.

Two strikes, overextended, Shruick danced with the words of combat in his mind, Shameful form. Must I teach you true discipline? The words resounded in his mind, voiced in a reminder of an old teacher passed. The room closed in on him, only the zombie in his vision.

Your focus is your downfall. A second set of claw-like hands dug into Shruick's backside, raking the dark scales on his back. A new scar to wear your lessons on. Shruick barely whirled around as the claws continued to work on his exposed chest. His arms flew aside with exhaustion, he could barely hold his grip.

Old wounds on his neck began to flare as the zombie continued it's assault upwards, A true opponent does not relent, shows no mercy. Shruick screamed as the old memories resurfaced.

Dropping to his knees, he could see the fields of fire before him. Dark men clad in leather and trophies seized from victims before them, striding slowly into the village's former square. Raising their arms with a casual whim, the dreaded smell of gunpowder fills the air. Men who dare to oppose them have but a second to think, before their heads dissolve in a mist of blood and bone.

Nor should you, my apprentice. Shruick pulled the strength into his knees, the dark figures approached slowly, a smile cut into it's arrogant face, Only with your own power can you give justice to those you care for.

Shruick looked up, raising his sabre in a last bid of defiance. This enemy gives you no mercy, show it no quarter. Perhaps now he could save the life he had lost so long ago.

The gun metal grey of a pistol barrel bared down into his face. The smile on the figure unmoving. The fire built in the barrel as the smoke escaped the pistol's flintlock.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. A weak, hoarse voice sounded from behind him. Peace slowly welled up in his stomach as he fell to the floor. That wasn't how it was meant to end. The voice turned small, immature, as if the voice of a small child cried out after hearing the sad end of a fairy tale.

The peace in his stomach flowed to his arms and legs, he could feel digits moving about in his opened skin.

But that's how it goes The hoarse voice returned as the digits moved to his head, What remains, is what we take our lessons from.

((DEFINITELY going to make another character, I'll get to it soon. As for my stuff, do with it as your characters would.))

[Tiruin]

Edit:  ((Tiruin will be joining the party.))

((Woohoo!))

Edit: Wait, just read what happened to our slain member... I don't feel that jovial now.

[Caellath]

((@CrimsonEon: I'm really sorry about your death. You were really unlucky there, I have to admit. As a question, what are the funerary rites for Shruick's culture? I'd assume Mordekhai knows it due to his background of studies under his master.))

[V-Norrec]

((Technically, as we have yet to discuss Draconian culture, I think I'm the only one who would know the funeral rites of Draconian culture.  And it is dependant on location.  If they are one of the Draconians living in their Mountain Fortresses then they are usually burned on a pyre.  If they are a Draconian of the wider world, they will usually follow the funeral practices of the dominant culture, there is always an aspect of fire present though.))

[CrimsonEon]

((Technically, as we have yet to discuss Draconian culture, I think I'm the only one who would know the funeral rites of Draconian culture.  And it is dependant on location.  If they are one of the Draconians living in their Mountain Fortresses then they are usually burned on a pyre.  If they are a Draconian of the wider world, they will usually follow the funeral practices of the dominant culture, there is always an aspect of fire present though.))

((My thoughts exactly. I would figure since Shruick was raised within proximity of what was largely a typical human village on the border of the mountains, I would say a typical burial would be appropriate. Perhaps give it a draconian accent by lighting a brazier near his burial place.))

[Dwarmin]

Pity

Nepthym felt death ripple in the air-one of their own, the Draconian with the saber. She hadn't even caught his name. The tearing and ripping sounds were bad enough-his final pleas and gurgles for mercy (Or prayers of vengeance, she couldn't say what his last thoughts could have been), were worse.

A great Pity, to have lost one of their own, even for the short time they knew each other.

But these thoughts didn't impede Nepthym as she sprung to attack the undead savaging his corpse-she was a soldier, a survivor-death was something she was used to. Someone lives, someone dies-There was no rhyme or reason to it, no Divine Justice, no Great Destiny. What did these vagaries of ill fate portend? In another time and place, might he have been a second faster, she a second slower-might he have lived, and better she had died? Might he have lived, and she had learned to call him friend-or already had she done so in another life, or would she again? Perhaps they would meet again, after all-the Clerics often told her souls come back together, time after time. Evil comes back as evil...friends come back as friends...the souls of lovers, mate eternal.

The soldier in Nepthym interrupted-pointless philosophical meandering, distracting you from the task at hand. Do you want to die? Concentrate on the mission.

Of course, for all this-she was used to death. But...it still horrified and sickened her-but she never let it show.

Not where anyone could see.

Yet, the mission continued. They had to take down the stragglers before they were finished...feeding. A dagger was almost useless against a zombie, with no blood to let and no organ to puncture-she really wished she had a rifle, again-but if one struck the base the spine and inhibited their locomotion, they would die all the same. They would have that minor revenge, bitter as it was. The Zombies were-for their own part-utterly blameless, mindless automatons brought about by Dark Magic.

There would be little satisfaction gained from putting them to rest-but they would take what they could.

Action: Use my Backstab skill against the healthiest zombie remaining-go for the base of the spine, using Mordekhai as a flanking distraction.

Melee Skill Learned/Backstab

OOC: That's a shame Eon, but IIRC, these games have very high death counts, and more than a few total party kills. No immortal heroes here. :X

I liked to hear your characters last thoughts, anyway. A Final RP to go out in style.

[V-Norrec]

((My first game went for quite a long time with no deaths, until somebody killed themselves by targeting a team member with low-health in an AoE that had an artifact that killed him when it revived the team member.  I'm generally a pretty nice DM soooo, I'm kind of sad that it came to this so quickly))

[Dwarmin]

((yeah, AOE anything is bad in this type of game...

Also summons. Oh God no. D:))

[CrimsonEon]

Edit:  ((Tiruin will be joining the party.))

((Woohoo!))

Edit: Wait, just read what happened to our slain member... I don't feel that jovial now.

((Dayum right, ain' nobodah gonna feel jovial about MAH death! *gutstab*

But seriously, I hope I'm not showing as too heavy handed about dying. But seeing as this is a pretty RP centric RTD with some rather RP centric players I felt it too sad not to go out without some sort of closure. That and I like to write, RPing in RTDs makes good practice. Only question I've got now is how am I going to make the next character better ))

[V-Norrec]

((Be a blue Draconian with a French accent, I'm planning on doing it anyhow here in the future so having more French Draconians would be cool ))

[CrimsonEon]

((Oh man, that's going to be a challenge. Word of warning, In my mind I imagine all french accented people as nigh-psychopathic arsonists.

Bring a fire retardant jacket))

[Ochita]

Aegnor kept up the assault on the pirate priest, all thought and restraint lost as he hammered down the blows, striking either in the gut or the ribs, everything else dimmed down to a small degree. Smacking the pirate unexpectedly hard in the crotch, the pirate fell down, and then scrambled to get back up

Stop him.

The single thought rained clear in Aegnor's head, swinging his staff in an upward arcing movement, catching the pirate heavily on the jaw, almost dislodging it. He continued on, grabbing and twisting the pirates hand off from the pistol, and letting it fall to the ground. Hearing the pirates cry, he just grimaced, and said two words: "Your Judgement."

In something that would be appropiate for an action movie, the two swung their weapons, but Aegnor was faster, breaking the pirates neck and making it spin around, something that brought Aegnor to his senses. Before he could stall, he saw the dragonian fall, being torn apart by the zombies. Taking a small glance at the dead elf, Aegnor swung into the middle of the fray.

Get both of the zombies attention on me, and only me.

Also spend melee skill on thrust.

[Tiruin]

Edit:  ((Tiruin will be joining the party.))

((Woohoo!))

Edit: Wait, just read what happened to our slain member... I don't feel that jovial now.

((Dayum right, ain' nobodah gonna feel jovial about MAH death! *gutstab*

But seriously, I hope I'm not showing as too heavy handed about dying. But seeing as this is a pretty RP centric RTD with some rather RP centric players I felt it too sad not to go out without some sort of closure. That and I like to write, RPing in RTDs makes good practice. Only question I've got now is how am I going to make the next character better ))

((I wondered on why Norrec sent in the PM

And then that happened. 

Wishing you well Crimson, I just know your funeral [or remembering the dead] scene will be epic.))