>>3864555
>A necklace of fangs and claws. You are a Beast Slayer, tracking dangerous monsters and putting them down. For the right price that is.

I want to try a more self-interest character this time.

>>3864570
Nothing wrong with good old fashioned greed

>>3864555
>The Black Iron Skull of a Witch Hunter. These rogue spellcasters cause nothing but harm and must be brought to justice. Justice being a cleansing flame.
So it was a witch that hunted ? Quite confused here

>>3864586
A Witch Hunter tracks down and either kills or captures rogue spellcasters. Not usually a magic user themselves but it’s possible

>>3864555
>A necklace of fangs and claws. You are a Beast Slayer, tracking dangerous monsters and putting them down. For the right price that is.
This mud shall soon not be wet with water, but with sanguine ichor.

>>3864555
>A necklace of fangs and claws. You are a Beast Slayer, tracking dangerous monsters and putting them down. For the right price that is.

>Beast Slayer selected

The braided cord around your neck rattles slightly as the various claws and fangs it is corded through shift. Each one is from a different creature, a different monster who had fallen to your blade. From the shifting desert sands of Ankhara to the tall reaches of the Ironthroat mountains, from the swamps of the Darkwood and the golden fields of the Crownlands, you have trod the lonely trails to find your prey. Your skin is lined with scars, the long slashes of talon and claw and the ragged gouges of vicious fangs, your armor similarly worn and weathered. But like you, it has survived and proven capable of handling the punishment your prey can bring.

Your fingers brush a smear of mud, the scent of your prey heavy in the air as you move forward. You keep your head twisting side to side, your ears pricked as you listen. More than one Hunter has had his prey round on him and reverse the roles. It wouldn’t be the first time for you, you’d rather it not be the last however. You keep your pace, crouch walking to minimize your profile as you creep along, a faint and tense smile on your lips as you grow ever closer to your prey.

It pays to be attentive while in pursuit of a....

>Haftigor. This bestial humanoid has been tormenting the nearby village of Saltmarsh for months. While big and brutally strong, the beasts are quite stupid and horribly nearsighted.

>Pack of Ghuls. Falsely rumored to be a type of undead, these monsters run rampant near battlefields and graveyards, devouring corpses and lone victims. The mayor of Halfors Rest will pay well for their removal

>a Vargwulf. Often confused for a “wolfman” these twisted creatures hunt at night, stealing away children and livestock in the night. Fast and brutally cunning, they are devious prey.

>>3864634
>Vargwulf.
Honor-bound, we seek for the lurking beast of the night.

>Anybody else want to vote before I call this?

>>3864634
>Pack of Ghuls
More the merrier

>>3864634

>a Vargwulf. Often confused for a “wolfman” these twisted creatures hunt at night, stealing away children and livestock in the night. Fast and brutally cunning, they are devious prey

I want a wolfcloak

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>Vargwulf, stealer of children it is.

A hunk of coarse black hair stuck against a thorny bush catches your attention and you pluck it free with a twist of your fingers. It is greasy and matted, sported chunks of dried filth and clotted blood. Sniffing it, you wince at the aroma of filth, rank mud and rotting flesh engrained in the hair. You toss it away with a grimace, knowing that the young girl taken by the creature is likely long dead.

Vargwulfs are a twisted breed, created by some mage centuries ago fucking about with various strains of lycanthropy. With just the right addition of magic, he created a breed of eternally changed monsters caught forever in a bestial state. You imagine he had a few moments to gloat in triumph before the creatures tore him to shreds and escaped, taking shelter and breeding in the darkened places of the world. Their minds having long gone, their cunning remained as they shined away from larger cities, sticking to forests and caves where they would strike out at herds, lone travelers and isolated farms. Children were a favored prey for some reason, their screams seeming to please the creatures as they fed.

Luckily, they are solitary creatures for the most part. Few Vargwulf seem to tolerate the presence of another unless they were breeding. Afterwards, the female usually killed and ate the smaller male unless appeased with fresh prey. You wrinkle your nose at the thought of that poor peasant girl being the equivalent of foreplay to a pair of artificially made werewolves.

Whatever the eventual horror you found, you would be well prepared. After all, you were known for your...

>Great size and strength. You are a giant among men, able to go toe to toe with many monsters. (Slayer: Expertise In 2 handed weapons, feats of strength and endurance and Intimidation)

>Your nimble hands and quick eye. You pride yourself on ending most prey with a single, devastating strike.
(Expertise in Precision weapons, feats of agility and stealth and persuasion)

>Your keen mind and ingenuity. A beasts Might is useless when it is trapped and outmaneuvered. (Expertise In ranged weapons and crafting, feats of intelligence and barter)

>Other (be creative if you want)

>>3864722
Fucked up and forgot the class names

>Great size and strength. You are a giant among men, able to go toe to toe with many monsters. (Slayer: Expertise In 2 handed weapons, feats of strength and endurance and Intimidation)

>Your nimble hands and quick eye. You pride yourself on ending most prey with a single, devastating strike.
(Death Dealer: Expertise in Precision weapons, feats of agility and stealth and persuasion)

>Your keen mind and ingenuity. A beasts Might is useless when it is trapped and outmaneuvered. (Trapper: Expertise In ranged weapons and crafting, feats of intelligence and barter)

>>3864722

>Great size and strength. You are a giant among men, able to go toe to toe with many monsters. (Slayer: Expertise In 2 handed weapons, feats of strength and endurance and Intimidation)

Please a buff warrior to beat them into submission

>>3864722
>Slayer: Expertise In 2 handed weapons, feats of strength and endurance and Intimidation

>>3864722
>An Unrivaled cruelty to the monstrous. Brandishing Hook and chain we do not show mercy until the job is done. (Expertise in conditions and mind games)
Spilling blood and tearing skin tends to work the adversary's mind in mysterious ways. We need every advantage to push the beasts back.

>>3864726

>Great size and strength. You are a giant among men, able to go toe to toe with many monsters. (Slayer: Expertise In 2 handed weapons, feats of strength and endurance and Intimidation)

Kill beasts, get money and be heralded as a savior as a bonus? Singn me up, the tavern is gonna be a lively place once we bring his fangs back

>>3864722
>>Great size and strength. You are a giant among men, able to go toe to toe with many monsters. (Slayer: Expertise In 2 handed weapons, feats of strength and endurance and Intimidation)

>Slaye: You tower above lesser men, a Hunter with the stature of a giant. Each swing of your weapon could cleave a man in half, a strength that is needed for some of the beasts that you have hunted.

You roll your wrist as you move along, the joint popping underneath the boiled leather coating your forearm and extending up the back of your hand. You clench a hand large enough to palm a mans head and work your jaw. Coming down from the northlands had been a necessary decision for you, seeking riches and glory as a younger man. Your ancestors had long since slaughtered many of the more dangerous monsters, the few who remained either too dangerous to pursue or not worth the effort. A true Slayer must prove himself, time and time again to be entered into the annals of history and so you continue on. These soft southern men didn’t have the mettle to butcher these beasts on their own anyway.

The forest is dark around you, only pools of shadow in between the craggy trunks of the skyward reaching trees. The scent of rot, of leaf mould and fungus, of damp wood and festering mud is nearly overpowered by the scent of the Vargwulf. The filthy creatures musk and general disgusting aroma of rotting flesh is smeared on the surrounding vegetation like an oil. It’s so overpowering you can nearly taste it. While there are far better things you’d rather be smelling and tasting, you know something for a fact.

You’re getting very close.

Like greeting an old friend, your fingers wrap around the leather wrapped grip of....

>A long bladed spear, its double edged head suited for slashing and thrusting with excellent reach.

>A heavy bladed halberd. Well suited for fighting large beasts with tough hides.

>A spiked warhammer. Suited only for a strong warrior, this heavy iron head can crack bone and pulp flesh.

>A single edged greatsword. Resembling a great cleaver, this weapon can cut through limbs and bodies.

>Other (there’s lots of weapons, I’m not gonna list them all. Feel free to propose ideas)

>>3864803
>>A spiked warhammer. Suited only for a strong warrior, this heavy iron head can crack bone and pulp flesh.
All round practical weapon.

>>3864803
>A single edged greatsword. Resembling a great cleaver, this weapon can cut through limbs and bodies.
Tempted to go for a axe, but we've been doing axes for the last few games.

>>3864803
>>Other (there’s lots of weapons, I’m not gonna list them all. Feel free to propose ideas)

not going for optmum here

A great axe with a spike on the other end

>>3864813
+1
I like warhammer, but for hunter I'd rather see greatsword

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>Hunters Cleaver: a greatsword with a single edge and squared tip, it’s massive weight and razor sharp edge lends itself well towards chopping into flesh and splitting bone.

The weapon you pull from your back would be called crude by most. Some would struggle to even lift the hunk of steel, their puny arms unable to bear it. Rare is the man who would be able to swing it with any real force beyond allowing the cleavers weight to bear it down on their foes. For you, a Slayer of the northlands, a true son of the frozen wastes, it is an extension of your arm. Allowing each swing to flow, your momentum carrying you into the next movement, you could move deceptively fast while attacking with every movement.

Your pack, lightweight but still burdened with your gear, rests against your back as you crouch against the moss coated trunk of an ancient tree. Mushrooms and slimy fungus break away as your leg brushes them, tumbling against the ground to be trod into the muck. Shaking beads of icy water from your face as the trees drip incessantly, you listen as the faint chirruping and rustling of this area of the forests few birds and wildlife grows fainter and fainter.

Moisture laden ferns part as you push through them, streams of water running across your feet as you do. The tracks of the Vargwulf are pressed deeply into the muck here, a nearby fallen log gouged from the beasts claws as it clambered over it. A smear of blood is present on the ground, bright scarlet and not yet tacky. You regard the scant few droplets and spit into the mud as you realize the girl was likely alive when she was dragged through here.

>Check your pack, make sure you have all your gear

>Investigate the nearby area, you must be drawing close to the Vargwulf’s lair

>Look for a good spot to set a trap or ambush the creature. It couldn’t hurt to surprise it.

>Other

>>3864917
>>Investigate the nearby area, you must be drawing close to the Vargwulf’s lair

>>3864917
>Investigate the nearby area, you must be drawing close to the Vargwulf’s lair

>>3864917

>Investigate the nearby area, you must be drawing close to the Vargwulf’s lair

The girl is resh enough, we will either find her alive which would be good, or find him feeding and distracted which is also good

>>3864917

>>Investigate the nearby area, you must be drawing close to the Vargwulf’s lair

>Investigate the nearby area. Roll me 1d100 please. The higher the better

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>3864991

Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>3864991

>81

Dropping to a very low crouch in the ferns, your head turns slowly as you scan the area. Your eyes flit from detail to detail as you search for any trace of the beast. Each broken twig, each crushed leaf, each smear in the mud, you file it all into your mind, building a bigger and bigger picture of the area as you move forward.

You range around the area, keeping your ears and eyes open as you search for any sign of the Vargwulf and its victim. Across twisted roots the size of carriages, through creek beds littered with rounded stones and water as cold as ice and undergrowth as thick as a frost giants beard. As you scout through the are, you come across the Vargwulf’s trail again, a smeared and broken path through the ferns and brush. You find several more smears of blood, a scrap of sackcloth, even a tuft of dirty blonde hair wedged in the gnarled grip of a thorny vine.

Pressing forward on the trail of the monster you wince as the stench of rotten flesh grows stronger, the trail curving downward as you press forward. Ducking underneath a arching root, you curse as the mudslick ground gives beneath your heel and you slide down the steep embankment a few meters. Catching yourself against a broken stump you over the edge of the rotted and crumbling wood.

“Bloody hell... been here a while hasn’t he”
With a muttered curse, you look down on the trampled and mud slick earth in a semicircle around a massive tree trunk. Gnawed and cracked bones litter the area, beast and man among them. You wrinkle your nose at the aroma of rotting flesh and look down at a dismembered forearm, the tattered and graying fingers still tightly clutching a hatchet. You reflexively duck down as a mass of matted and greasy black hair creeps forward on all fours, dragging a small, limp form by the ankle with its jaws. Your jaw clenches as you note the ragged wounds left by the Vargwulf’s claws across the young girls back and arm, gashed nearly to the bone.

The Vargwulf drops the girl before a clawed out entrance into the root mass of the great tree. The earth around the entrance is slick with old blood and putrescence, scraps of rotten meat caught on the bark and jagged wood. The monster sniffs tentatively as it nudges the girls body with a forelimb, slaver dropping from its jagged fangs as it prods her again and again.

It’s trying to make her scream, you realize.

That explains why the Vargwulf would go after a child when there were herds and sheep aplenty to hunt. It was looking for the ideal gift and a lone farmers daughter feeding the ducks was the perfect choice. A deep, growling moan comes from within the depths of the root mass and you curse to yourself as you realize that the female within is surely on her way out.

>What do?

>>3865073
Attack now while its alone and distracted. A moment later we will inevitable fight two at once.

>>3865096
support

>Strike while the Vargwulf male is distracted, two of them would surely be a worse challenge. Roll me 1d100+10 for your Attack with your cleaver along with your option or suggestion of attack. Highest of first 3 wins

>Flying overhead chop, cut it in half

>Sneak up and bury your blade in its spine

>Charge up and slash low, try to take its leg/s off

>other

Rolled 25 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3865126
>Sneak up and bury your blade in its spine
Lets hope we are not a big oaf.

Rolled 22 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3865126
Flying overhead chop.

Gotta get some sleep anons. Well pick this back up in the morning! Thanks for playing so far

Rolled 87 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3865126
>>Flying overhead chop, cut it in half

make sure not to cut the other

>>3865126

>Flying overhead chop, cut it in half

We drag the kid out and leave the male as bait, females like to eat them too

>>3865126

>Flying overhead chop, cut it in half

>>3865126
>Flying overhead chop, cut it in half
RAAAAAAAH

>>3865213
Saved us, man

Rolled 14 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3865126
>Flying overhead chop, cut it in half
Death from above!

>Later start than I intended but I had to run some errands today that took longer than I thought they would.
>97! Excellent success!

The peasant girl whimpers softly as the Vargwulf digs its claws into her shoulder, her throat likely torn ragged from screaming as the beast drug her away. The beast growls as it’s sniffs at her hair, lips pulled black from crooked and bloodstained fangs. Its beady black eyes narrow as it sniffs the entryway into the females burrow, a low whine issuing from its throat as it presses down on its offering, its claws digging into her flesh as it attempts to elicit a scream.

Carefully, you shift your position along the outer rim of the bowl shaped depression leading down to the root wad of the great tree. Like serpents of wood, the ancient roots arch from the ground as high as a cottage, their surfaces scored and gashed by claws and time. You watch your feet carefully, hardly wishing to slide down on your back and wind up at the creatures limited mercy. You weigh your options as you search for a vantage point, calculating the risk and whether or not you can dispatch the male before the female emerges from her burrow. You could likely take either one of them in a stand up fight but two of them, a hungry female and a courting male at that? You don’t fancy your chances in that fight.

Using the ragged claw marks in a high arching root to your advantage, you use them like handholds in a cliff face. Your boots grip the roughened wood and bark well as your fingers latch into the claw made gouges. The root arches ten, fifteen feet over the ground, emerging like a bent pillar from the base of the tree and cooling around it like a slumbering snake. You crouch near its apex, almost directly over the Vargwulf as it nudges it’s offering with its stubby about. The girls fingers spread out as she grips the muddy earth, weakly attempting to crawl away as the snuggling and snarling from within the root wad grows louder little by little.

Your blade rasps against its sheath with only the barest hiss of metal on metal as you withdraw the heavy blade. It is a comforting weight in your hand as you grip it tightly, taking several deep breathes to steady yourself before you take three steps forward, hurling yourself up and forward as you bring the blade over your head. Wind whistles in your ears for the briefest of moments, the ground approaching like a charging Haftigor, the Vargwulf male barely having time to cock his head to the side in curiosity at your grunt of exertion before your blade descends.

>Cont

>>3865581
Few things can match the agonized shriek of a wounded monstrosity as well honed steel carved through their misbegotten forms. The Vargwulf throws its head back in agony and howls as your blade carves deep into its shoulder and back, its left forelimb going limp as bone audibly cracks and the blade carves down through matted hair, leathery skin, fat and sinew, muscle and lodged firmly in bone. Blood, thick and hot, splashes in your face and against your arm as the beast rears back in agonized surprise, fangs bared in a ear splitting howl of fury.

You plant your feet, sliding a bit in the mud as the beast thrashes side to side, biting at the blade in its shoulder and succeeding only in gashing it’s own jaw against the metal. With a gut wrenching squeal of metal on bone, the Vargwulf rips itself free with a jerk, staggering forward a few steps before wheeling on you. Its twisted, lupine features contort in a snarl of pure animalistic hatred and pain as it crouches low, blood sheeting from its left shoulder as its ears flatten back against its skull, lean muscle tensing beneath the greasy hide as the beast readies itself.

>Rush forward and meet its charge head on.

>Take a defensive stance and deliver a fatal blow when it lunges.

>Overpower the beast. Slam it back against the tree roots with brute force.

>Other (feel free to suggest)

>>3865582
>>Take a defensive stance and deliver a fatal blow when it lunges.

prepare a good base, it will not be graceful when he attacks with his side like that, kill the fucker when he comes

>>3865582
>>Take a defensive stance and deliver a fatal blow when it lung

Bait him in and let him come to us.

>>3865582

>Rush forward and meet its charge head on

>>3865582
>Other (feel free to suggest)
Deflect it into a nearby tree and then run it through.

>>3865582
>Take a defensive stance and deliver a fatal blow when it lunges.

>>3865582
>>Take a defensive stance and deliver a fatal blow when it lunges
>>3865630
We don't need to lose our blade, by getting it stuck at tree, or inside an angry murder claw wolf. Even less now, when we will get flanked by another as angry female monster

>>3865630
Your sword is supremely poorly suited for stabbing.

Rolled 83 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>A defense as impregnable as a Kruarks hide.
>Roll me 1d100+10 please. You are being attacked so beat the Vargwulf’s roll please. Vargwulf is wounded so it’s rolling at a disadvantage

Rolled 74 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3865931
Praise the Dice Gods for good fortune to beat that.

Rolled 53 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3865931

Rolled 86 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3865931

>>3865887
I figure we would stab towards the ground.

>>3865923
Not if we stab hard enough!
I thought we had something more like a kitana/falchion sword, not a big ass cleaver. My bad.

>>3865956
Just barely squeeze thought that DC

>>3866080
>>3865937
This one made it since the dc to beat was 73, and we get a +10 to our rolls.

>84 vs 73! Omae wa mou shindeiru

The grievously wounded Vargwulf snarls in fury as black blood spills from the ruinous gash in its shoulder. Greasy hackles rise along its knobby spine as it’s muscles tense, claws digging into the slick, rot strewn mud. It’s lacerated tongue lolls from its jaws as it lunges forward, seeking to close the distance with you in a single overpowering charge.

Your knees bend slightly, your feet spreading outward as your cleaver rises above your shoulder, angled forward like the battlemasters of your tribe taught you. Like a drake poised to strike, the bloodied blade is still as stone as you set your feet, your eyes narrowing as the Vargwulf lunges across the ground, jaws spread wide and eyes full of bestial hate. Each tooth is capable of tearing flesh from bone. Each claw could gut a cart horse, cutting as deeply as any blade. It’s hide is thick, many older Vargwulf being studded with broken arrows and shattered spears. It’s fur is matted with years of filth and dried blood, coarse and thick enough to shed blows. To wound or slay a creature like this, you must strike true, your blade moving as an extension of your body.

The Vargwulf leaps, it’s single functioning claw outstretched to slash into your throat, it’s momentum enough to bowl you over and maul you with its fangs. If the beast landed it’s lunge, you and the peasant girl would be eaten alive. It is with that thought in your mind you sidestep, your feet sliding across the ground effortlessly as your blade comes around in a whipping arc that sends a spray of thick droplets across the ground. The Vargwulf skids past you, snarling in impotent fury as it’s claws slide through the mud without purchase, carrying it nearly twenty feet away from you. The beast growls viciously as you backstep several feet, holding your blade at the ready. Your voice is low as you taunt the creature.
“Come on then, if you want some more”

The Vargwulf's snarl of rage devolves into a wet cough as blood spills from its jaws in a sudden spurting gush. It sags as sudden weakness assails its limbs, pressing its eerily humanoid hand against the bloodless but mortally deep wound across its chest, its breastbone and ribs slashed cleanly through. A sudden torrential gush of blodo spurts from the wound as the beast takes a few weak steps forward, its knees giving out as it sags to the ground before collapsing, black blood pooling around it in the fetid muck. A final gurgling snarl emerges from its jaws before it twitches and goes still, eyes wide and glassy.

You turn, shaking droplets of gore from the blade of your cleaver with a shake of your wrist as you regard the entrance to the female Vargwulf’s den, the young peasant girl still laying limply next to it. The growls and guttural moans from within it have quieted, a faint rasping whine issuing from the darkness as the yellow-green reflection of bestial eyes looms in the abyssal darkness of the creatures den.

>What do?

>>3866199
>84 vs 73!
Not
>96 vs 73!

Would have been and epic 360 eyes closed backwards spinning whirlwind head cut.

Drag girl away from entrance with one hand while we are at the ready, staring down the hole with the other.

Put somewhere safe, then if the shewolfs not coming out we quickly make sure the male is dead and behind it.

Set fire to the entrance of the hole to smoke her out.

>>3866199
>grab girl, gtfo

>>3866212
oh, forgot
>piss on the corpse

>>3866199
Grab the girl and get out, if we are luck the female focus on the dead male.

>>3866216
Won't the they be able to follow our scent then, and tack us all the way back to town, and attack us in the night?

>>3866199
face the second vargwulf

>>3866210
Ah shit I knew I messed that up. My bad, looked at the wrong one as I was writing

>>3866228
You did just slaughter the male, there is a good chance the female will eat him instead as Vargwulf females are big, mean and cannibalistic.

>>3866256
Would she still eat it if we dumped feces all over the corpse?

Surely they aren't that hungry.

>>3866228
>>3866226
A bit of Background, you were hired to kill the Vargwulf that took the little girl and rescue her if possible. The Female could potentially lead to a bonus but would be a more dangerous opponent than the male by far as she would be roughly twice his size.

>>3866264
Well, lets not let the shewolf get stronger by having a meal to feed and eat on.

>>3866264
>roughly twice his size.
Yeah, fuck that. Definitely get the girl and get the fuck out.

Do we have any poison on us? We can poison the corpse and when she goes to eat it, we get a second kill, or at least a very weakened shewolf to deal with later.

>>3866279
You can check your gear. You took a more straightforward combat class so poisons and toxins are unlikely but if you want to check, you can.

>>3866287
Okay.... Check our gear.

>Seems kind of torn between grab the girl and bail and try to lure out the second Vargwulf along to poison or trap the male Vargwulf’s body. Options stand at

>Acquire girl, vacate premises

>If you won’t come out, I’ll come in

>Check gear, you might have packed some Blackblood Oil.

>>3866327
>Check gear, you might have packed some Blackblood Oil.
>bail with girl, maybe set fire to the corpse.

>>3866327
>check gear, grab girl, stabilize if we find meds

>>3866327
>Check gear, you might have packed some Blackblood Oil.

>>3866327
>Acquire girl, vacate premises.

>>3866327
>Check gear, you might have packed some Blackblood Oil.
We do NOT want to get tracked and ambushed.

Keeping your eyes fixed on the hulking figure looming in the darkness of the rootwad, you carefully make your way towards the peasant girl sprawled before the entrance. The she-beasts eyes gleam in the darkness as you crouch down, your blade leveled at the monstrosity as your fingers clench in the ragged sackcloth of the girls dress. A whimper of pain escapes her lips as the cloth is pulled from the clotting blood around the ragged gashes in her back, droplets spilling free in crimson trails.

The Vargwulf female snarls hungrily at the scent and sound, claws the length of daggers curling outward to gouge into the ragged wood around the edges of the entrance. Only the gleaming edge of your blade keeps her attention, her warped mind surely fixed on the grievous wounds left on her would be mate, his sprawled corpse cooling in a puddle of gore. Backing away slowly, you never take your eyes from the beasts silhouette in the darkness as you carry the girl like a sack of potatoes up the side of the incline, propping her up against the side of the same stump that arrested your fall.

Doing your best to ignore her whimpers of pain at the ragged wounds in her back being broken open yet again, you pitch your pack from around your back and drop it at your feet. It falls with a hefty thump, it’s weight something you had long gotten used to as you pull the toggles holding it closed and....

>Please select three items from the following list.

>30 feet of rope and hook: A triple braided rope of thin yet strong cord knotted around a four pronged hook.

>Butchers Tools: A set of small, sharp blades, pincers and saws useful for extracting valuable parts of monsters.

>Five Vials of Dragons-blood: This viscous scarlet liquid ignites on contact with the air and burns with a ferocious heat .

>Vial of Blackblood Oil: This distilled toxin is colorless, odorless and tasteless. a few drops can kill a strong man.

>Healers Tools: Bandages, needles, ointments and pastes useful for treating all manner of ailments.

>Trappers Kit: A leather pouch full of lightweight but sturdy snares and spring loaded traps capable of snaring small-medium sized game.

>Bolo: A sturdy cord strung between two heavy lead balls. It can trip up and snare or wrap around a neck and strangle if thrown correctly

>Other (feel free to suggest anything you feel may be useful, to a maximum of three total items)

>>3866426

>Vial of Blackblood Oil: This distilled toxin is colorless, odorless and tasteless. a few drops can kill a strong man.

>Healers Tools: Bandages, needles, ointments and pastes useful for treating all manner of ailments

>Butchers Tools: A set of small, sharp blades, pincers and saws useful for extracting valuable parts of monsters

>>3866426
Thanks for starting an interesting quest, I sadly have to sleep. It's pretty late in est so I imagine the board is slowing down.

>>3866452
Thanks for playing so far anon. I’m running this pretty loosely so I’m glad people are enjoying it. I’m about to get some sleep myself.

>>3866426
>Butchers Tools: A set of small, sharp blades, pincers and saws useful for extracting valuable parts of monsters.
>Healers Tools: Bandages, needles, ointments and pastes useful for treating all manner of ailments.
>Bolo: A sturdy cord strung between two heavy lead balls. It can trip up and snare or wrap around a neck and strangle if thrown correctly.

>>3866426

>Healers Tools: Bandages, needles, ointments and pastes useful for treating all manner of ailments

>Butchers Tools: A set of small, sharp blades, pincers and saws useful for extracting valuable parts of monsters.

>Vial of Blackblood Oil: This distilled toxin is colorless, odorless and tasteless. a few drops can kill a strong man.

Let's goad the female ijto attacking guys, two heads pay better than one and we can get plenty of trophies, I don't want to leave the male body behind without cutting its claws and fangs

>>3866426
>Healers Tools: Bandages, needles, ointments and pastes useful for treating all manner of ailments

>Butchers Tools: A set of small, sharp blades, pincers and saws useful for extracting valuable parts of monsters.

>Five Vials of Dragons-blood: This viscous scarlet liquid ignites on contact with the air and burns with a ferocious heat .

Burn the bitch to death, one at the entrance to keep her inside, the other deeper into the hole to get her.

>>3866426
>>3866438 this. Pretty hype on this so far good work op.

>>3866426
>Healers Tools: Bandages, needles, ointments and pastes useful for treating all manner of ailments

>Butchers Tools: A set of small, sharp blades, pincers and saws useful for extracting valuable parts of monsters.

>Vial of Blackblood Oil: This distilled toxin is colorless, odorless and tasteless. a few drops can kill a strong man.

This is a good combination.

>Healers Tools: A collection of needles, bandages, ointments and medicinal pastes useful for treating wounds of all sorts
>Butchers Tools: a leather pouch of sharp blades, pliers, pincers and saws useful for harvesting valuable portions of creatures.
>Vial of Blackblood Oil: a colorless, tasteless and odorless toxin. Apply a few drops to food or to a weapons edge with care.

The slightly bloodstained cloth of your healers kit is pushed aside as you dig into the depths of your pack. While the array of various accoutrements of the healers trade had come in handy over the ears, doing a excellent job of making sure your innards did not become your outtards. More than one grievous injury had been turned into a mild annoyance once you had bitten a rag and cleaned, stitched and bandages the offending wound. Pushing past it, you dig deeper into the pack.

A well treated and securely bundled leather pouch is grasped momentarily before you push it out of the way. The tools within are a key component of any Beast Slayer who wishes to make a little extra profit. The knives and hooks, vials, pincers and saws contained within it are near necessary for successfully extracting valuable organs and portions of a creatures body. Allyrian nobleman pay a fortune for Trow gonads, believing them a potent aphrodisiac. You haven’t really done much to quash the rumor that they must be consumed raw for full effect.

The egg shaped Vial you pull from the depths of your pack is a closely kept secret. Wrapped in multiple layers of soft, oil treated leather cords, the Vial is treated as carefully as a hummingbirds egg as the last thing you would ever wish is for it to break. The clear liquid within it is distilled from the Blackroot vine, a notoriously toxic weed that grows only on the Isle of Glintshore. It’s flowers can cause horrific rashes to break out, its thorns cause bleeding that simply will not stop but it’s roots are where the real treasure lies. Washed, peeled, soaked in boiling vinegar, strained and boiled again before being ground into paste and distilled nine times until only a few drops of crystal clear liquid remains. This devilishly toxic liquid is then bottled and usually sold only to the assassins of the Ankharan Sultans, the toxin being undetectable until it takes effect. The veins of its victims will turn black, their blood congealing into a thick jelly before they expire, choking on black foam and bleeding from every orifice.

It is with the utmost care that you pull the Vial from your pack and hold it between two fingers, feeling it’s weight. The bottle is still nearly full, the drunken assassin you had won it off of in a game of dice had claimed he had only needed to use it once. In all the years since then, it had been a constant secret weapon for you.

>What do?

>>3866547
Glad you like it so far anon!

>>3866839
Do we have any dagger or anything like a knife? Otherwise
>poison our sword and with a drop of the poison.
>challenge the female and try to draw it out.

We need to fight it otherwise it will come for us and the girl. And if we are carrying her it will be able to hunt us. Better to kill it while we have momentum.

The other option is to put a drop of it on a chunk of the males corpse then throw the chunk to the female. But I do not want to turn my back to her.

>>3866839

take a knife or a dagger and poison it, throw it at the female to both poison her and anger her so she comes out after us

do it away from the girl of course

>>3866869
This, if we don't have a knife to throw, or a hatchet that would be more appropriated, we do this>>3866861

>>3866861
Yes you do. You have a horn handled hunting knife, like a large seax

>Sorry about the delay there. My sisters, BIL and niece dropped by and I had to play the good uncle.

>>3867064
Good man, nothing more important than being the cool uncle.

>Pour a few drops of Blackblood Oil on your hunting knife and throw it at the Female Vargwulf.
>Roll me a 1d100 here. No bonus as you do not have any Proficiency with thrown weapons. Best of three!

Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>3867234
Praise the Dice Gods.

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>3867234

Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>3867234

File: 9D22C970-14BA-4A5B-82A9-A(...).jpg (6 KB, 225x225)

6 KB JPG

>>3867238
Now listen here u lil shit

>93! Excellent success!
>Hunting knife! I choose you!

The firmly seated cork of the vial pops free as you wedge your nail under it and press upward firmly. The neck of the vial is shaped into a tiny spout beneath the cork, ensuring only a few drops of the lethal liquid can escape at a time. You keep your eyes fixed on the entrance to the Vargwulf’s den, her shaggy silhouette lurking in the darkness as the snarls and guttural groans echo out from the darkness. The glowing green-yellow eyes loom in the shadows, claws flexing on the ragged wood as the she-beast snuffles curiously.

The blade you pull from a worn leather sheath at your hip is one of your oldest companions. A grip made from a length of sturdy antler, a simple guard of brass and a blade nearly a foot long. The straight edged blade tapers from spine to tip at a shallow angle, suiting itself well towards cutting slashes and deep thrusts. The blade is worn and lined with small nicks and scratches, honed to a gleaming silvery blue sheen as the moonlight glints from it.

A few droplets of oil spread across the blade as you tap the vial a few inches above it. The mildly viscous liquid clings to the metal as you cork the vial, dropping it carefully back down into your pack with a slight thump. Stepping away from the unconscious girl, you keep your weight back as you descend again into the Vargwulf’s lair. A deep growl issues out from her den as the beasts jaws become visible as she leans forward, both claws gripping the torn and bloodstained entrance to her lair as she hauls her bulk forward.

“Big bitch aren’t you?”
You curse to yourself as the she-beast emerges fully from the shadows. Easily half again as large as the male, the beast would stand nine feet tall if standing fully upright. Muscle and fat fill out the normally gaunt frame of a Vargwulf, coarse black hair extending in a greasy ridge down the knobbly spine and extending from around the twisted, lupine head in a matted, blood clotted mane. Overly long forelimbs end in vaguely human like hands tipped with jagged claws, the visible skin a sickly dark gray. Ragged ears peel flat back against the misshapen skull as the Vargwulf takes a step forward and roars in rage and bloodlust, having finally deemed you a threat and a challenge.

Taking a step forward, your arm whips back before you hurl the hunting knife at the beast with a grunt of effort. The blade whistles through the air, a shining glimmer of razor sharp steel that cuts through the space between you and he monstrosity like a angered hornet. A screech of fury and pain issues out as the blade drives deep into the beasts upper torso, piercing all the way to the hilt, blood spattering the ground as the beast reels back from the injury.

The howl of bestial rage hits you like a hammer as the Vargwulf drops to all fours, slavver dripping from her jaws as she lunges forward, intent on ripping you to shreds.

>What do?

>>3867343
Roll beneath it.

>>3867343
Drag our cleaver to the ground and deliver an upwards slash to meet her charge while planting ourselves in a stable stance with all our weight

>>3867361
Supporting

Rolled 44 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>Take a defensive stance and swing upwards into the Vargwulf as she charges
>Roll me 1d100+10. Beat my roll please!

Rolled 84 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3867475

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>3867475

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>3867475

Rolled 49 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3867475

File: E2AB0244-EF8D-4229-8C80-7(...).gif (2.26 MB, 500x288)

2.26 MB GIF

>94 vs 49!
>Get parried scrub

Dropping to all fours, the female Vargwulf charges at you at a breakneck speed. Great clods of black and fetid mud is torn up by her claws as she bounds and leaps, eyes black pits of boundless fury and hate. Your dagger juts from the creatures torso, lodged firmly in the iron hard muscle as the Vargwulf bears down on you. It’s with practiced ease that you shift your weight, your blade sliding from its sheath once more as you set your feet in the slick earth, your eyes narrowing as the world fades away.

The Vargwulf leaps, jaws spread wide and claws extended to rip and grasp at you. If her jaws closed on a limb, it would be torn away in a heartbeat. If her claws gouged into your flesh, you would be gutted like a trout, bleeding out in the rot-thick muck. If she slammed into you, even with your strength you would be crushed against the earth, pinned beneath her weight and at the beasts nonexistent mercy. You must strike true, not allowing your enemy even the slightest advantage against you as that would be death.

Your blade curves upward like a gleaming stream of silver as you duck and twist, whirling away from the onrushing Vargwulf as you strike. The wet-heavy impact of flesh on steel and the sharp jarring impact of bone traveling up your wrists as the Vargwulf’s snarl breaks into a sudden yelping whine of fierce agony. Blood sprays your hands in a fine mist as the blade shears through hide and flesh, carving a thin line into bone as you strike and evade like a lunging serpent.

The coordinated lunge turns into a rolling tumble, the beast slamming into the ground and flopping for a moment in shock and pain before pushing itself to all fours, snuffling the air and turning to face you, the Vargwulf rises to its hind legs, towering above you as blood courses in a thick stream from the horrific gash across its skull. The thick hide is split to the bone from the corner of the beasts bottom jaw to its right eye, the black orb now a ruined mass in a blood filled socket. Blood smeared white bone is visible in the depths of the newly made trench, the beast roaring in agonized fury as it takes a step forward, crouching down and howling in hate.

Keeping her good eye fixed on you, the wounded beast begins to circle slowly to your left, claws spread wide and matted fur sticking out in coarse, greasy spines. Your blade is held out before you, your knees bent and ready to jump in any direction as the wounded predator is now at her most dangerous. So intent are you on her movements, you are almost stunned into inactivity as the she-beast grips her would be mate by a rear leg and flings the corpse at you bodily, blood and filth flying through the air in a arc behind the limp body.

>What do?

File: 53077767d20b4adc77a3d8760(...).jpg (104 KB, 625x493)

104 KB JPG

>>3867571
DODGE!

>>3867571
sidestep the thing and prepare a vertical swing for her inevitable charge after the distraction

>>3867590
>>3867576
Yup

>>3867590
>>3867571
Yes, the beast will hide its attack with the corpse.

>>3867590
This

Lets keep our distance, she is bleeding and poisoned, we don't need to risk ourselfs

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>Dodge and prepare counterattack, vertical slash
>For this I need 2d100 please. I’ll add on your Two Handed Proficiency. Best of 3, your second roll must beat mine or you’re gonna have a bad day

Rolled 93, 57 = 150 (2d100)

>>3867619
Praise the Dice Gods.

Rolled 65, 65 = 130 (2d100)

>>3867619

Rolled 70, 72 = 142 (2d100)

>>3867619

>>3867619
>>3867623
>>3867644
>>3867649
I while I love the dice gods for granting us victory, may I suggest that instead of rolling you set a DC for us to beat depending on the situation the difficulty of the enemy?

>>3867652
I meannnn if you guys want? I’m a fan of the enemy rolling for their attack as well but if you guys just want a set DC, I can do that

>>3867664
whatever is good for me

poor wolf girl stood no chance kek, not a single roll under her 53

>>3867664
You are the boss man, just giving you options.

>93! Great success! Wolf corpse dodged!
>82 vs 53! Savage Counterattack!
>Blackblood Oil begins to take affect!

Your eyes open wide as the limp corpse of the abomination flies through the air towards you. Blood trails from the mortal slash across its sternum, chunks of muck and slime following behind like the tail on a comet. Without thought, without hesitation, you are moving. You throw yourself forward, dropping to a knee in the fetid slime of the Vargwulf’s lair and sliding beneath the flung corpse with a hairsbreadth to spare, leaving your head back avoid its impact with your face. The slick muck serves you well as you slide forward, the fallen male slamming to the ground behind you and rolling with the impact.

You can barely stifle a sudden cursing shout as the female Vargwulf follows close behind in the wake of her makeshift projectile. Dropping to all fours, she is bearing down in great bounding leaps, her single remaining eye like a black mirror of hate as her jaws open wide. Muscle tenses in the shaggy haired legs as the beast leaps at you, claws outstretched and maw ready to rip out your throat. The beasts guttural roar of pure hatred reverberates in your chest as the world slows to a crawl.

The harsh lessons of the battlemasters of your people sing in your mind, your nerves tingling as you bring your blade around. The steel song echoes in your ears as your feet shift across the earth. Your fingers tighten on the hilt of your blade as you bring it around your shoulder in a single powerful overhead slash. The moment of impact is so quick and fleeting you barely feel it as you allow the momentum to carry you into a new guard, facing the Vargwulf as she tumbles to the ground in a ragged heap. Pained whines issue from the shaggy beast, the whines evolving into growls and snarls as the beast pushes itself back into all fours.

Or onto three legs, you notice with a detachment that comes only from the battle trance. The beast raffles her left forelimb to her chest, the claw split down the center with the third and fourth claw sheared away in a scarlet ruin. White bone and ragged red flesh is visible as blood pumps from the gruesome wound, coursing down the beasts chest and soaking its fur as it turns to face you slowly. You hold your blade ready as the Vargwulf takes a near hesitant step towards you before sagging suddenly, a gagging, rasping cough coming from its jaws as strings of thin black slime ooze from within its throat.

You nearly smile as the beast staggers near drunkenly, the darkness of her hide almost obscuring the spreading discoloration of the swollen veins. The silver moonlight casts the makeshift arena in stark shadows as you and the beast circle each other, steel and skill against feral fury. But the roles have reversed, no longer does the Vargwulf regard you as simply meat for her maw, now you are the Hunter and she is the prey.

>What do?

>>3867705
Keep the pressure on, no need to go for the kill if we can give her a few more injuries from where to bleed.

>>3867705
Play it safe continue to injure but don't commit, let the poison and blood loss wear her down then finish her with a killing blow.

>Play it safe, wear her down.
>DeathByAThousandCuts.jpg
>Feed me a d100+10, let’s see how this goes

Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>3867758
It is late so people will be slow responding in est, good run though the quest is coming along well.

>>3867764
Yeah QST is notoriously slow, especially when my fellow Amerifats start headed to bed. Glad you’re enjoying it though anon! It’s great to have something people actually like

>>3867779
Honestly it's a promising start I hope you keep it going. All the QMs dropping quests is killing the board, like losing that last good star wars quest.

I honestly have to sleep soon I can roll 2 more times if you like but i am pretty unlucky.

Rolled 91 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3867758
Rollen

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>3867764

>>3867779
Its awesome

>>3867779
It's pretty cool and I certainly want more.

>>3867779
Yeah this is a great quest. Keep it up!

>101! Outstanding success!
>Bleed bitch! Bleed!

The sucking mud clutches at your feet as you and the wounded Vargwulf circle one another. Blood trickles in a steady stream from the grievous gash across the beasts skull and coats the matted fur of her chest as she clutched a maimed claw against it. The beast regards you carefully, apprehension visible in its single remaining eye as your grip tightens on the hilt of your blade. The heavy blade is slick with blood, thick drops running down the length of it.

Slowly, carefully, you advance on the beast. Step by step you close the distance between you, keeping your blade ready and knees bent, ready to leap, dodge, lunge or slash at a moments notice. The beast snarls angrily, slashing at the air and growling before devolving into a hacking cough, tarry black slime oozing from its throat in viscous strings. Swollen black veins stand out like serpents beneath the she-beasts hide, her own body turning against her as the toxin spreads from the poisoned dagger lodged in her flesh. The beast takes a step towards you, clawed paw drawn back to dash your head open but collapses to one knee, catching herself on her uninjured arm, sinking almost to the mid forearm in the slime.

Seizing your opportunity, you lunge forward with a vicious sideways slash. The Vargwulf reflexively attempts to dodge backward but her weakening muscles betray her and she is a moment too slow. The edge of your cleaver carves cleanly through the muscle of the upper arm, gashing down nearly to the bone. The screech of indignant pain echoes out as the follow through drags the blade across the beasts torso, gashing through hide, fat, muscle and carves a divot across the Vargwulf’s breastbone. Blood, thick and clotting, spatters the ground in a spurt of gore as the beast flails back, gnashing fangs and howling in pain.

With a guttural roar, the Vargwulf turns and leaps through the air. Desperate and wounded, half blind and poisoned, the beast lunges in retaliation. Both claws outstretched and jaws spread wide, blood streaming from its wounds and black slime staining its fangs. All injury forgotten, the beast charges in a berserk fury, seeking to overpower and rip you to shreds.

>What do?

>>3868383
Go for a decapitating strike, no use holding back now.

>>3868383
Finish her off

>>3868390
This

She is fucked up enough, she probably can't move half as fast as she could before.
We cut that head and then take it back with us along with the male's and the kid, we get paid and celebrate!

I can already taste the booze

>>3868402
And two new sets fangs for our necklace.

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10 KB JPG

Rolled 70 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>Bring your pretty face to my blade.
>Pic most definitely related
>Feed me a d100+10. Beat my roll please!

Rolled 79 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3868458
Shi she rolled well

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>3868458

Rolled 8 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3868458
Hail the Dice Gods.

Rolled 95 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>3868458
Lets see if I can roll a 4 or critfail

>89 vs 60!
>Decapito!

The Vargwulf’s leap carries it high into the air, a true vision of the dangerous predator the beast would be to any man or beast. Nine feet of tar black hide and bulging muscle, claws the length of daggers and fangs capable of ripping mail to shreds and crunching bone like toothpicks. The creatures single remaining eye is ablaze with bestial fury, the other streaming blood turned black by the silvery moonlight. The beasts wounds stream blood rapidly turning to sludge by the toxin coursing through her bloodstream, inky slime streaming from her jaws as the beast throws her all into slaying you and feasting on your innards.

Your blade moves like a extension of yourself, your every action flowing like water but with the purpose and power of a thunderbolt. A silvery sheen cuts through the air as you lunge forward, twisting and slashing across your body in a brutal underhand strike that carries you forward in a leap over the desperate Vargwulf. Twisting your body, you kick your feet out and skid across the mud-slick earth, driving your blade into the ground to arrest your backwards slide as the Vargwulf slams to the earth with a heavy thud, sliding several feet forward in the slick earth.

The beast pushes herself up, weakly managing to rise a few inches from the mud, the baleful eye regarding you with absolute hatred. The beast goes to rise and suddenly shudders, blood pouring from its jaws and the rapidly opening wound across its throat. With a wet squelching, the wound splits in a ring around the beasts throat. Hide, muscle and bone carved through as cleanly as cold venison before a razor. With a sudden thump, the Vargwulf’s head falls from its body and lands heavily in the mud, followed shortly by its body as the beast collapses into a twitching heap. Nodding at the fallen creature, you stand to your full height and fish a rag from your pocket, wiping your blade clean before sliding it back into the sheath at your back.

Mud spatters your legs and limbs, blood coating your face and arms in a thick spray. Your hair is dotted with lumps of clotted blood and thick chunks of fetid mud. Your mouth is dry and you are only now aware of the droplets of sweat coursing down your neck and the pounding of your heart in your chest. You smile as you wipe a splash of gore from your brow, smearing it across your face as you look up to the heavens, the Hunters Moon gazing back down at you like a proud elder.

You are the Hunter and you have taken your prey once again.

>What do?

>>3868506
>Make sure the Male is dead, secure the area, do first aid on the girl. After that harvest anything of value from the beasts and get moving.

>>3868506
Wash off with some water from our pouch, don some gloves we can burn if we need to and butcher the male, bag the parts, and cut off the females head and keep it in a separate bag. Get our dagger and clean and rinse it thoroughly.

>>3868509
Yeah, gotta make sure girl is fine and everything is dead first.

>>3868509
this
make sure everything is dead and first aid the girl
then we butcher the corpses

>>3868522
>>3868513
>>3868509
Agreed

>>3868506
Confirm kills, give first aid to the girl, butcher the creatures for valuable parts, clean tools and bag the heads.

>Confirm Kills

With a bit more weariness than you would have expected from the encounter, you make your way over to the fallen Vargwulf female. The monstrously large abomination is sprawled in the mud, a puddle of thick black blood slowly spreading from the clean gash across her throat. Pulling a pair of cheap cloth gloves from your pockets, you pull them on and work the fingers experimentally. The severed head looks blindly upward as you nudge it with your boot, a faint smirk on your lips as you crouch down to grab it by an ear. With a grunt of effort, you toss it back towards where the peasant girl is laying against the tree stump.

>retrieve dagger.

Giving the body a kick, you crouch down and work your fingers under the heavy corpse until you feel the hilt of your dagger. Gripping it tightly, you rip it out with a wet sliding sensation traveling up your wrist. The blade is coated in dark blood, thick clots falling from the blade as you do your best to wipe it clean on the beasts hide. Pulling another sacrificial rag, you do your best to carefully clean the blade of any lingering Blackblood Oil before tossing the tainted cloth aside.

Making your way over to the males corpse, you move carefully before you wedge a boot under its body and flip it onto its back. The mortal wound across its chest splays it’s torso open, lungs and heart clearly visible and deeply gashed from the devastating strike you dealt it. For good measure, you grip the beast by the ear and quickly saw its head off with your dagger, wiping the blade clean-ish on its hide. With another grunt and a toss, it joins the females larger head in the mud as you sheath your dagger and make your way back over to the little girl.

Her breathing is faint but she is alive, weak shivers coursing through her thin frame as the cool night air and the trauma of the last few hours assails her. Her dirty blonde hair is caked with mud and blood, deep gashed across her left arm, across her back and shoulders and a ragged bite in her calf where the beast dragged her. She whimpers softly in her near catatonic state as you toss the soiled gloves aside and pull your healers tools from your pack. Moving with care, you set about bandaging her wounds.

>Roll me a 1d100 please. Let’s see how good of a medic you are.

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>3868671

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>3868671

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>3868671

>>3868681
a damn good medic I see, make sure to give her something to wrap up for the cold too, after we finish our bloody harvest we can take her back

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146 KB JPG

>95! Excellent success!
>The Doctor is in!

The slightly bloodstained bag is folded open as you kneel down by the girl, gently holding her head with one hand as you speak to her.
“Shhhh... it’s gonna be alright. It’s gonna be okay. The monsters are gone and I’m gonna get you back to your mama and papa. But I’ve got to do something and it’s going to hurt okay? I need you to be strong here”

The girl continues to stare straight ahead, her mind somewhere far away, tucked deep within herself to save it from the horror she was subjected to. The girl doesn’t react as you pull her towards you, moving the ragged cloth on her back out of the way and exposing the ragged wounds. A clear glass vial of a vaguely blue liquid is uncorked with a sudden pungent aroma. With a apologetic look at the girl, you splash the Coalberry extract across the wounds, the liquid foaming and steaming as it comes into contact with her skin. The girl twitches, weak jerks as she reflexively attempts to get away from the scorching pain of the liquid. Pulling a clean cloth from the pack, you pat the wounds dry, blood and filth rapidly staining it. You can’t help but sympathize with the girls pain, Coalberry extract felt like being branded but it prevented wounds from festering like no other.

A few droplets of a thin, purplish black paste is smeared onto a fingertip from a leather pouch. You delicately apply it in a thin layer to the wounds along the girls back, arms and thighs, wincing as she jerks in reflex as your finger drags through the ragged wounds. Paste made from the leaves of Wychglove, when properly fermented accelerate healing, a trick used by the tribes of the Ironthroat mountains after their raids.

Finally, you extract a bundle of thin gut thread, already threaded around a curved needle. With swift, deft movements and another application of Wychglove paste along the stitches, you close the wounds to the best of your ability. They will be sore and she will have to work to regain her strength but she will be unlikely to be a cripple or die of infection. Rolls of clean cloth are bound tightly across her torso, arm and leg, the wound at her calf being doused thoroughly with Coalberry extract and a hefty dollop of Wychglove paste. That wound troubles you as she will surely be pained by it for years.

But she will live.

It’s that thought you keep in your mind as you pull your blanket from your pack, wrapping the thick cloth around the girls slight form and bundling her tightly against the cold. She seems to sink into the warmth, her vacant eyes drifting closed after a few moments as a exhausted sleep takes her.

Pulling your butchers tools from your pack, you hold the leather pouch under your arm as you appraise the dead Vargwulf pair.

>What do you wish to harvest from the Vargwulves?

>>3868885
Not sure if we should harvest anything from the vargwulf female but...

The heads, claws, hide, heart, liver, testicles, teeth, and hind leg with the bone.

>>3868894
agreed about the female, maybe only the teeth and claws from her since they won't have the venon

but make sure to colect both heads so we can claim our pay

>>3868885
>What do you wish to harvest from the Vargwulves?
Their fangs and largest claws, not sure if I want cloak from their skin. Can we check the female's lair anything valuable? She might have eaten a fat rich merchant.

>>3868885
Claws, teeth and the fur from the male, maybe his testicles too, we can probably con some rich dude in town into buying them.
If his bladder is intact we can use it to make some sort of liquid granade with something.

>>3868898
Check the lair too

>>3868898
You can but you would have to literally sift through the Vargwulf shit. It’s unlikely anybody rich has fallen prey to her, especially in this backwater region.

>>3868910
no swimming in shit no, let's just harvest

>>3868910
Cancel checking the lair

>>3868885
Grab everything valuable but lightweight

Tooth, claws, etc. Valuable organs. Leave the female alone, or be very careful, do not want to get poisoned by residual oil.

>From the male: Head, Heart, Liver, Pelt, Claws and most importantly testicles.
>From the female: Head and Claws

Drawing a small blade from within the butchers tools, you walk over to the male and begin a deep incision across its belly, from sternum to groin. The skin, muscle and tissue split easily beneath the razor sharp blade, the slick innards easily visible within. With deft strokes of the blade, you cut the connective tissue and membranes holding the dark purple liver, placing it in a thin cloth bag you pull from the leather pouch holding your butchers tools. It’s heart follows next, the lacerated organ dripping clotted blood as you drop it into same bag as the liver, tying it off with a knot. On a whim, you take a curved blade from your kit and sever the Vargwulf’s testicles. Some gullible fool always has a problem getting his dick up and will try anything and some will pay very well.

Drawing your dagger, you carefully carve off the beasts claws at the first knuckle. With a series of deft twists you begin bundling them with a strip of cord and stowing them away. Rolling up your sleeves, you begin working your fingers under the Vargwulf’s thick hide and begin the arduous task of prying it free from the flesh. Thick chunks of yellowish fat cling to the hide as you lever and cut it away, pulling it back with all your might and scraping with your blade. Ignoring the mangled skin from its chest and upper shoulder, you skin the beast down its back, taking the thick hide from what would have been the base of its neck all the way down to its tailbone. Rolling the skin up, you tie it with a loop of cord and set it by the sack of innards and claws.

Pulling two hooks from your butchers kit, you thread the ring at their base with rawhide cord and with a grunt of effort, drive them through the eye sockets of the severed heads. Hanging the heads from your belt, you stow the hide, organs and claws into your pack, reasoning that removing the fangs could wait for later. Stowing all your kit back in your pack, you shoulder it with a grunt and kneel down to work your arms under the unconscious girl. Holding her close to avoid jostling her, you begin the arduous task of making your way back to the village as you leave the hellish pit of the Vargwulf lair behind you.

>Timeskip back to the village

>talk to the little girl, tell her a story as you walk (write in, be creative here)

>>3868910
>Timeskip back to the village

>>3869297

>talk to the little girl, tell her a story as you walk (write in, be creative here)

The tale of old Fangir, he was a great warrior and a great beast hunter, none could stop his axe, he severed men and beast like no other and was bathed in glory for it.
He once fall in love, just once, to the most beautiful woman in the village, one day you may grow to be one dear child, she did not care for his glory or strenght, all she asked was for his best.
He traveled far and wide, followed years hunting and bringing back treasures, nothing was enough, he brough the toe of a giant, the wing of a wyrm, the blood of a vampire and she always said, none of it matters my love.
He died some olace or another, he never knew that she only wanted him to stay, for no northman can understand such a request.
Grow to be brave young girl, you survived most than any other southerner will ever be able to.

Ask her name and a little about her.

>>3869297
>>talk to the little girl, tell her a story as you walk (write in, be creative here)

I bet none of the stories we know have a happy ending kek

Tell her the story of the little girl who cheated a god, she always won on the bone game for some reason, so much that the trickster god came down to challenge her, he used his magic to change the result but the girl was not worries, she simply threw her bones and got her result, beating the god of lies, when he asked her how and demanded answers she simply said, pure luck, he was compleately confused and offered whatever she wanted for her set of bones, she accepted and god riches beyond her believes, but never once he was able to win a game using it, he stil tries on some tavern or another, just to be frustrated by loss once more

tryied to create some folk lore, but we can go with this too >>3869326

I want to skip but this anon went through the trouble of putting effort into his post here so I guess we can talk to the girl.

>>3869326
>>3869373
Using both of these, it’s a long walk.

Across the slick, mud slick forest floor you walk, your burden held closely to your chest as you navigate the treacherous terrain. The ancient trees loom high above you, their roots as wide as carthorses and providing convenient routes above the morass of the endless mud. Dew and rainwater falls in a endless patter, a icy rain that sends fat droplets trickling through your near sodden hair as you heft the girl up. You smile as a small arm snakes out of the blanket, wrapping around your neck. A small voice comes from the depths of the blanket, weak and quiet.
“My leg hurts....”

You chuckle and pat the girl with your fingertips gently as you readjust her, lifting her up and maneuvering her to take any pressure off her injuries. You continue on, the child’s face pressed against the thick cloth of the blanket.
“I know it does little one. But you’ll be alright. You just have to be brave.”

A small sniffle, a tremor in the bundle in your arms before the small voice comes again.
“I... I don’t know how”

You smile softly, navigating a knee deep pool of icy water as you hold the girl high.
“Well I will teach you and maybe you can help me to be brave. This forest is dark and I need you to be brave for me...”
Poking aside the blanket, you reveal one bright green eye gazing up at you from the cloth cocoon.
“Tell me child, do you know the Tale of Fangir the Lonely?”

A tiny shake of the head answers you and you laugh, the sound carrying through the darkened forest around you. You look down at the girl and give her a bright smile.
“Well that breaks my heart! What stories do southerners tell their children? What songs do they sing in the meadhalls for the victorious dead?!”

Again, that tiny voice comes from the bundle in your arms.
“The... the princess and the toad. Mama tells me that sometimes before bed.”

Again your laughter comes, ringing out through the forest as you tilt your head back. Smiling broadly now, you forge the path ahead, your voice rolling from your lips.
“That is a soft story for soft people. You and i? We survive monsters! How many little girls can say they escaped a Vargwulf! None but you! You need a warriors story!”

The forest grows quiet around you as you recite the tale, even the night birds and nocturnal creatures seemingly listening in as you regale your charge.
“Fangir was a great warrior, a Hunter and Slayer of the Frost Wolf Tribe, they who ranged the farthest in the wastes and hunted the fiercest game. Before the age of three and ten, he slew a Ice Wyrm of the Frostfang mountains, ripping the wings from the monster and casting it down the mountainside.”

The green eye blinks in wonder, a small finger pushing more of the blanket aside and revealing a shock of dirty blonde hair and another bright green eye.
“He sounds strong! What’s a worm?”

>Cont

>>3869532

You chuckle loudly, forgetting in your storytelling that the southlanders do not know the great beasts under the same name that you do.
“Your people would call it a dragon young one... now, Fangir was a great Hunter, strong and fierce and brave and cunning. He fought against the monsters of the far north, of my homeland and slayed them by the hundreds. Not even the foes of his tribe were spared his wrath, his blade cutting them down, splitting their bones and bathing him in blood and glory. Much honor was heaped upon his name, his mead hall filled with friends and battle-brothers. The skalds fueled to the death to sing his praises and the shield-maidens fought to join him in his be- in his... in his battles! Because they were brave as well! So very very brave”

Coughing slightly to cover up your slip up, you look back down at the child, her eyes wide in wonder at the story. A small button nose is now visible, dotted with a droplet of dried blood that you dab away with a spit wetted finger.
“But Fangir had eyes for no woman. For what could compare to the joys of the hunt? To the glory of the battle song singing in his veins? to the honor and praise heaped upon him and his ancestors, the Oath Gifts and battle treasure filling his halls with gold and jewels, carved ivory and the cleaned skulls of monster and foe alike. He went for many years like this, fighting foes from one end of the earth to the other until one day... while hunting a beast with no name on a island of the Jade Sea, he met her.”

The girls eyes open wider, almost popping out as she curiously gasps out
“Met who?”

“Alikama, the priestess of the village. She was a beauty unlike any other, her loveliness so pure that Fangir nearly went blind gazing upon her. She tended the wounds of his men as they were wounded in the hunt, her soft voice and gentle ways soothing their wounds and calming their hearts. Fangir was struck his first defeat as Love buried its claws in his heart.”
You voice turns slightly sad as you continue the story.
“But Alikama did not return home with him. Her place was with her people and though she was fond of him, she could not leave them or her temple. Though he emptied his halls of gold and jewels to win her hand, making himself as poor as any beggar. Her heart being the only treasure he desired. Still, she denied him, though it hurt her so. Though he slew a thousand beasts and brought her the skull of a black dragon, the Hand of a giant, the teeth of a Moon Serpent and the blood of a Leviathan, she still denied him, though it anguished her like hot irons. For years, he tried a thousand and one ways to woo her, she rejected every advance, breaking both of their hearts like cold black iron.”

>Cont

>>3869533
Remembering the sadness you had felt when you first heard the story, you look down at the girl and spot a sheen of tears glimmering in her eyes.
“All she wanted was for him to stay. To lay down his weapons and join her, to live in peace. That was the only life she could have and the life that he could not. What Northman could lay down his weapons? What Northman could stop roving, stop roaming the earth and seeking his glory so that he may be welcomed into the halls of the Allfather? It was with a broken heart that Fangir returned home, his heart heavy and back bowed by defeat. Alikama watched him depart, her tears dotting the white sands of her homeland as she watched her love leave forever.”

Taking a deep breath, you continue on.
“Fangir returned to his home, to a mead hall empty and cold. He sat upon his throne of carved bone and gold, drinking his sadness away. Then, without a word to the friends he still had, he took his axe and departed for the far north. If he could not have true love, he would seek the death of a true Northman. Perhaps his body lies on some ancient mountaintop, perhaps it lines the lair of some great beast. Perhaps some great warrior struck him down and claimed his skull, that is a story that Is known to only Fangir and his lonely spirit wandering the mountains.”

The girl is quiet for a long while, your legs carrying you forward through the forest at a tireless pace. She eventually speaks, her voice small and soft in the great stillness of the forest floor.
“It sounds like Fangir loved fighting too much. But Alikama should have gone with him I say... he wouldn’t have died like that”

You smile down at the small girl, her bright green eyes gazing up at you. You pat the girl with your fingers as you carry her and readjust to carry her against your other arm.
“Clever girl. You know, I also know a story about a clever girl. Do you want to hear it?l

A furious nodding answers you and you can’t help but smile. You wrack your memory for a moment and clear your throat.
“There once was a little girl named Karra. Now Kara, to the woe of her parents liked to play Knucklebones. Fortunes can be won or lost on Knucklebones so you can understand their worry. But their worry was for nothing you as Karra, she always won. For years, as Karra grew from a little girl to a young woman, she never, EVER lost a game of Knucklebones.”

>>3869534
>Cont

Looking down at the little girl, you smile as you continue the story.
“Now Takturak, the Trickster god, heard of this little girl who could not be beaten at Bones. Takturak LOVED to play knucklebones. But he loved to BEAT mortals at Knucklebones even more. One day, he came down to challenge her as the greatest Knucklebones player to ever live. The first toss comes and Takturak scowls as she beats him handily. The second toss comes and Takturak used his magic to change the result of his bones as they threw but Karra was not worried she simply threw her bones and got her result, beating the god of lies.”

The little girl is enraptured by the story, the forest thinning ahead of you as you walk, moonlight on fields and meadows visible through the gaps. Continuing your story, you forge on.
“Their third throw came and the god of tricks threw out every trick he had. He shook the table, he summoned a Lightning bolt to strike the tavern, he changed her dice and his a dozen times before they even hit the table. When they looked, the god of lies gnashed his teeth and howled his rage at the heavens. Enraged, Takturak demanded she tell him how. Karra shrugged, returned her bones to their cup and she simply said, pure luck. Takturak, well he was completely puzzled by this as he didn’t believe in luck! He begged and offered whatever she wanted for her set of bones. With a smile, she accepted and was rewarded riches beyond her wildest dreams. Takturak returned victorious to the heavens in his eyes but never once was he able to win a game using those bones. Every once in a while he still tries on some tavern or another, just to be frustrated by loss once more.”

The girls giggle brings warmth to your heart as you carry her through the tree line, the torches and watchfires of her village visible in the distance as you tread through the dew wet grass towards it. Small fingers toy with your necklace of fangs and claws as you plow a path through the field, her eyes drifting closed yet again as sleep takes her. The village grows closer, a cluster of twenty houses and barns, fences and goat pens arranged around a small chapel. A crowd of men sit at the entrance to a two storied tavern, passing skins of liquor around and speaking in hushed voices. Dogs begin barking as you approach, catching the scent of Vargwulf blood on your clothes. The men look up, their eyes widening in shock as they spot you and the blanket wrapped bundle in your arms.

Pitchforks and hoes fall to the side as a man in a ragged tunic and trousers pushes through them, striding towards you quickly. His eyes are red and swollen, his face flushed and beaded with sweat as he points a shaking finger at you. He is Herrin, the man who hired you to save his daughter. His voice is ragged as he calls out to you, shaking slightly as he wets his lips
“Is... is... is she? Is that...d.... did... did you...? Nyla? My sw... my sweet lit-little girl?”

>What say

>>3869540
Show him the heads.

>>3869540

"The bravest girl I ever known father, cherish her well and guard her, for all the gods won't forgive you if you take her fortune away after surviving this ordeal"

show them the heads, two of them, demand our payment!

time to drink and to tell any impressionable young village woman about our fight against the wolf couple, and how we beat both of them at the same time with only one hand while we held the child close to our chest

nice stories qm, really nice, thanks

>>3869578
Support.

Yeah, that was a doozy. Good work.

>>3869540
Thanks for turning my drunken words into some nice thing

>inb4 mc's name is Fangir and he came southwards to get away from his live and meet death
Kek

Let's drop the heads dramatically on a table and demand gold
See if we can sell of some of the other remains too
A pelt to some youngster trying to boast that he killed the beast
Liver and heart to apotecaries or old wives that heard it can treat maladies
And testicles to that old land owner that lost his....confidence.

make sure to leave one of the small fangs from the beast tied in a rough necklace to Nyla
for protection

You keep your voice low as you smile to reassure the anguished father. You brush the blanket away from the little girls face, Nyla’s eyes closed and breathing softly, clutching your necklace with one small fist.
“Aye, it is indeed. The bravest girl I’ve ever known. Cherish her well for the Fates will not forgive you if you squander this second chance she has been given”

With that, you carefully extricate yourself from the little girls clutches, her face twisting in her sleep as she clutches back at you before her father tearfully steps forward to take her. With grateful tears coursing down his cheeks, he clutches his daughter close as you pass over the child, her arms wrapping around his neck so tightly you fear she may strangle him. Holding his hand in her hair as he cradles the girl to his chest, he bows his head to you repeatedly as the other men from his village begin to approach.
“Thank you sir! Thank you! You.. you saved my little girl. You saved her!”
Turning to the approaching men, he shouts out so loudly you fear he will wake the girl.
“He saved her! My Nyla! She’s alright! She’s alright!”

As the villagers cheer and pound each other on the back like victorious hunters, Herrin turns to face you, rubbing his daughters back frantically as if to check and see if she’s real.
“And.. and the beast sir? Did you... is it dead?”

With that, you turn and grab the laden hooks from your belt, dropping them between you and Herrin with a wet thump. A shocked gasp goes out at the pair of bestial heads, one larger than the other and marred by a vicious slash. Resting a foot on the females skull, you gesture down at them.
“Aye. As we agreed, I tracked the beast to its lair, slew it and brought back your daughter or her remains, whichever the case. I wasn’t expecting your girl to be a mating gift but the female wasn’t too much trouble. Figured I’d rid you of any future troubles from her while I was there.”

A burly man in a sweat stained sleeveless tunic speaks up from the crowd, his bald head gleaming in the torchlight.
“You ‘spect us t’believe ya killed TWO of them monsters? Couldn’t be done! Ya probably found a dead’n or sum’n!”

“Shut the hell up Gurn! Nobody asked ya a damn thing!”
Shouts a slender woman in a patched dress, pushing her way through the crowd and clutching Herrin by the arm as she pulls away the blanket from her sleeping daughters face. With a gasping cry of relief she hugs her husband and daughter tightly, pressing her cheek against her daughter as the girl grumbles and shifts in her sleep.
“Oh praise the gods you brought me my baby back! Oh bless you! Bless you! Oh Nyla I’m never letting you out of my sight again!”

>Cont

>>3869689
Herrin passes his daughter to her mother to be fussed over, brushing his tunic with his hands as he takes in your bloodstained and filthy garb, the muck staining your legs and boots and the blood spattered across your face.
“Thank you sir. Truly, I could... I could never thank you enough for what you’ve done for me and my family.... how can we ever thank you?”

>What say?

>>3869691
A good meal, a hot bath, a warm bed and the silver we agree on.

>>3869691

A good start would be....>>3869696

Oh and mind the females head, its the larger one. Its covered in exotic poison.

>Gotta get some sleep guys, picking this back up in the morning. Sorry for the slow pace today, lots of family events. Feel free to discuss, pose questions or ideas or anything really, thanks for playing!

>>3869691
How about you start with a drink?

>>3869696
>>3869710
These too

>>3868383
Mfw, this song came on while i started reading this paragraf. ''You Make My Dreams'' -Darly hall John Oates

>>3869734
So what is the currency in this world?
I think it might go gold>silver>bronze coins?

>>3869919
probably gold,silver, copper,and peasants do a lot of bartering is my guess

>>3869919
>>3870175
You would be correct in that normally, for simplicity I’m using a singular unit of currency just to save myself the inevitable stroke of fantasy bookkeeping I’m just going with Crowns as the currency. A moderately sized coin of indeterminate precious metal and stamped with the face of whatever King or Queen was in power at the time.

>>3869578
>>3869597
>>3869598
Glad you guys liked the stories! I did my best to work them in and supply a bit of folklore to the world as well

With a sigh, you rub your hand across your face and flick away the chunks of crusted mud and clotted gore. Gesturing down to the heads at your feet, you give a small shrug.
“The only thanks I need is a hot meal, a even hotter bath, a strong drink and a soft bed.... and the Crowns we agreed on.”

Herrin smiles widely at your words, nodding frantically and waving over several of the other villagers. A older woman with her graying hair in a severely tight bun, a heavily tanned young man with a jagged scar splitting his cheek and a brawny man with the lopsided physique of a blacksmith approach and take their position next to Herrin. He introduces them with to you with the familiarity of old friends.
“This is Bryna, Jareth and Hollis. Bryna runs the Lazy Mare....”

“Best ale around!”
The older woman smiles tightly, hugging her arms around her self in the chill of the evening air.
“Drinks’ll be on the house after what ya did for Herrin and his girl. As well as one of our rooms!”

You nod gratefully, weariness creeping through your body little by little. The older woman eyes you up and down, likely calculating how much food and ale she’ll be out of once you’re gone.
“My thanks. Your hospitality is very welcome.”

Herrin gives Bryna a broad smile and forged on, grasping the scarred young man and the blacksmith by the shoulders.
“Jareth and Hollis here helped me put together the reward you were promised. I- I couldn’t do it alone, they put forward the rest of the money.”

Jareth waves away the words and steps forward with a offered hand. Taking it, you can tell the palpable odor of boiled hides and vinegar coming from the young man.
“I see it as a investment. With the beasties gone, I can go trapping again without losing the rest of my good looks. I just wish I could have seen the buggers die.”

You can’t help but wince internally at the jagged slash extending from temple to chin, the purple and knotted scar raised out from the surrounding skin or sunken in places. Giving you a wink, he slaps your shoulder and steps back, crossing his arms as the bearded blacksmith shrugs heavily.
“Crowns aren’t worth what a child is. I’m not beggared by forking up some shiny coins and Herrin gets his daughter back. Now we’re all safer for it and I can get back to work.”

Herrin nods furiously, smacking Hollis across the back excitably and jabbing a finger at you.
“Wait just a moment! I’ll be back with your payment!”

>Wait, we need to renegotiate, I did kill TWO (Maximum greed)

>The reward is fine. (accept 150 Crowns)

>150 Crowns is fair as long as I get a discount while I’m here (Fair offer)

>Keep the reward, I just need some rest and I’ll be on my way. (Maximum Good Karma)

>>3870363
>The reward is fine. (accept 150 Crowns)
For the the Alpha female I charge nothing. Get a quick drink, bath, then eat before rest.

They'll give us a discount anyways, maybe not as big but more than enough.

>>3870363

>The reward is fine. (accept 150 Crowns)

Can't really negociate after the contract is agreed and it was not ill will on their part about hiding the female, nobody knew it seems, eh let's make our stay at the inn cover that reward in ale and drinks, perhaps whatever barmaid we can convince too.

>>3870379
We can push for the fair offer easily for the Female Alpha but I figure have a bit extra good will couldn't hurt.
Maybe leave a small tip for the tavern lady.

>>3870363

>The reward is fine. (accept 150 Crowns)

>>3870363
>>The reward is fine. (accept 150 Crowns)

>>3870363
>>The reward is fine. (accept 150 Crowns)
no need to be greedy we can also sell the monster parts to the others i bet.

>>3870363
>The reward is fine. (accept 150 Crowns)

>>3870363
>150 Crowns is fair as long as I get a discount while I’m here (Fair offer)

>The Reward is fine.

Jareth and Hollis give you a strange look as you remain silent, watching Herrin hurry back to his home. You were tempted to demand a bonus for your efforts but you feel that would come across as rude. These men all out forward no small sum for a backwater village such as this and demanding more could portray you as greedy. Besides, one hundred and fifty Crowns for a single Vargwulf was a good price, more than you would have asked but you weren’t going to correct Herrin if he was offering.

Jareth looks over your weapons as you stand silently, arms crossed as the villagers murmur amongst themselves in the crowd next to the Lazy Mare, curious eyes and whispers abounding. He breaks the silence, gesturing to the cleaver across your back.
“Did you really kill them with that? Seems... a bit unwieldy if ya ask me”

You shrug, rolling your shoulders as you jerk a thumb towards the hilt of the weapon.
“You get used to the weight. Smaller weapons sometimes don’t do the trick, especially on the bigger ones. You’ve got to hit them hard enough that it does more than tickle.”

Hollis nods approvingly, his beard twitching with a faint smile.
“Makes sense. Seen a few Hunters over the years, most of’em carried the biggest weapons they could handle for that same reason. Who made it for ya?”

You raise a brow to the blacksmith and reach back to draw the blade with a rasp of steel on leather, the blade gleaming in the torchlight. You turn it to show a stylized bestial skull punched into the metal near the guard.
“Valknar, Forge-master of the Far Walkers crafted this weapon for me when I became a man and chose the Slayers path.”

Looking over the blade for a moment, Hollis nods appreciatively. You have no doubt he is a capable blacksmith but the weapons of a Slayer would likely be beyond his talents.
“Fine work. Don’t even think I could swing th’damn thing easy as you do though. Looks heavy as lead”

With another shrug, you sheath the blade one handed and cross your arms again as Herrin approaches.
“Like I said, you get used to it. Or you don’t and you die”

Herrin holds a cloth sack in his hands, the jingling of coins issuing from it with every step. You turn your gaze to the man and nod thankfully as he holds out the bag.
“One hundred and fifty crowns, no more no less, as we agreed on. It’s a high price but like Hollis said, my Nyla is more than worth it.”

>Cont

>>3870510
>Gained 150 Crowns!
>Total funds up to 175 Crowns.

Taking the bag and sparing the man the minor insult of checking the coins for authenticity or even testing its weight, tie it to your belt with a leather loop and smile, taking Herrins hand and shaking it firmly.
“It was my honor to help. We had an agreement and I would hate to be called a liar... by the way, I bandaged Nyla’s wounds but it wouldn’t hurt for a healer to take a look at her.”

Herrin nods, gesturing back towards his home where candlelight shines through the windows and open door as several figures bustle about inside.
“Wolna and the other elders are looking over her. The old woman is a skilled healer, she helped bring Nyla into the world! I wouldn’t trust anyone else with her health”

>Continue speaking with Herrin, Hollis, Bryna and Jareth (What say?)

>Head over to the Lazy Mare, get that bath and that drink

>Other

>>3870514
>>Head over to the Lazy Mare, get that bath and that drink

time to unwind, the muscles are tense after all the tension

question to the qm: how taller are we compared to normal folk?

>>3870514
>Head over to the Lazy Mare, get that bath and that drink
Perhaps a quick drink, but i don't want to get sick from eating with dirty hands and gunk, and perhaps poison on us.

>>3870524
You’re a very large individual. I’d say with the normal peasant being about 5”8 or so, our so far unnamed pc would be in the upper range of 6ft

>>3870514

>Head over to the Lazy Mare, get that bath and that drink

Bath first, party after it

>>3870514
>Head over to the Lazy Mare, get that bath and that drink

>>3870514
>>Head over to the Lazy Mare, get that bath and that drink

>>3870514
>Head over to the Lazy Mare, get that bath and that drink

>>3870514
>>Head over to the Lazy Mare, get that bath and that drink

>Wow 4chan ate my long ass post. Hasty rewrite.

Bidding farewell to Herrin, Hollis and Jareth, you follow closet behind Bryna as she turns on her heel and leads you over to the Lazy Mare. Shooing aside the mildly staring crowd, she beckons you inside as she holds open the heavy swinging door.
“Come on in! Come come! You’re soaked to the bone.”

Following behind her, you luxuriate for a moment in the warm, fragrant air of the tavern. The scent of cooking meat, baking bread, ale and pipe smoke hangs in the air like a perfume and you bask in it for a moment before Bryna clearing her throat brings you from your stupor. Her small smile doesn’t fade as she waves you along, weaving her way through the maze of tables and benches, pushing stools and chairs out of your way as she goes.

The tavern is the only two story building in the village it seems, the second floor largely open to the first, a intricately carved railing surrounding the walkway around the interior of the second floor. A collection of hanging candles supply a steady orange light, melting tallow and wax dripping to the tables every so often. Several rooms are visible breaking off from the ground floor, a cellar, a stone lined room filled with casks and barrels and a small washroom all have their entrances on the ground floor. A bar carved from a single large tree sits before the entrance to the kitchens, its surface worn smooth and polished as slick as glass.

Leading you up the creaky wooden stairs to the second floor, Bryna speaks to you over her shoulder.
“I’m giving you the loft room, free of charge as long as ya need. Frankly, it’s the only one we have that the bed’ll be big enough for ya.”

“I appreciate that.... I can make do but it would be nice to fit on the bed.”
You laugh, shrugging slightly as you neglect to mention that any bed at all is better than sleeping outside. Especially in this perpetually soaked backwater.

Leading you to a sturdy door located directly above the kitchens, Bryna fishes a small iron key from her apron. Inserting it into the lock, she pushes the door open and gestures inside.
“Your room sir hunter. You’ve got everything right here for ya. Bed, chest for your belongin’s, got a pot if you need it in the night and I had Hollis add a little stove in the corner cause it can get right chilly here. Washtub is against the other wall, I’ll have Gilly and Ari bring along your water here shortly.”

Giving you a serious look over, she *tsk’s* for a moment before she shakes her head.
“You’ll be stripped before you sit on that bed sir Hunter. Ya might be a big bad monster killer but I’m not burnin’ good linens. Now I’ll let ya be and go get some mutton stew on and grab a mug.. a pitcher of strong ale. You get down to your skin and try not to scare m’girls to death”

>Cont

>>3871218
Taking her stern words with the wink she gives you, you nod respectfully and step into the room as she shuts the door behind you. Dropping your pack on the chest by the foot of the bed, you kick your boots off, wriggling your nearly numb toes as you warm them before the stove. Your cleaver you lay carefully against the wall, your dagger finding a home between the bedframe and the floor out of habit. Peeling off your soaked and filthy garb, your leather and mail armor thumping heavily to the floor as you remove it like a second skin. You feel physically lighter once it’s off of you, the chill fading from your skin as the warm air surrounds you. Wrapping a cloth around yourself, you sit on the chest with your clothes and armor folded carefully on the floor before you.

A short while later, a timid knock comes to the door. A young woman’s voice calls out
“Sir? Sir? We’re here for your bath! Er- with your water! For your bath! Can- can we come in?”

>Come on in! (Be decent. Spare the Poor tavern girls)

>Come on in (Be indecent, there is no mercy to be had here)

>Leave the water by the door thanks, I can bathe myself (Hunter is pure and not for lewd)

>Other

>>3871219
when you say indecent you mean in clothes or in actions?
I'm in favor of indecency of clothing but not mentioning it to them kek

>>3871228
Decent =Cover up the monster. You can either be polite and have a towel about yourself or you can let your big ol girthy donger flop around and refuse to acknowledge it because you’re a fucking Northman

>>3871219

>Come on in (Be indecent, there is no mercy to be had here)

>>3871219
>Come on in! (Be decent. Spare the Poor tavern girls)

>>3871236
welp, northman traditions must be kept, indecent it is, if only to have a laugh later at their reactions

>>3871219
>Come on in! (Be decent. Spare the Poor tavern girls)
We have nothing to prove.

>>3871218
>Wow 4chan ate my long ass post. Hasty rewrite.

Always have a backup, always do it in a note pad. Even if it means you have more than one version at least you won't have to start over from scratch.

>Other
Be indecent but have our genitalia covered up of course. Put on our poker face.

>>3871219
>Come on in! (Be decent. Spare the Poor tavern girls)

>>3871219
>>Come on in! (Be decent. Spare the Poor tavern girls)

>>3871219
>Come on in! (Be decent. Spare the Poor tavern girls)
Towel only

>>3871219
>Leave the water by the door thanks, I can bathe myself (Hunter is pure and not for lewd)
NO LEWDING

>Be decent, contain the beast.

Making sure your towel is securely fastened around your waist, you stand and make sure no slips occur by holding it securely with your right hand. Clearing your throat, you call out.
“Come on in! It’s alright”

With a slow creak, the door pops open a inch or so, a bright blue eye peering through the gap for a moment before a nearly inaudible huff of disappointment issues out. A second voice can be heard whispering in the hall.
“Can you see? What’s it look like?”

The blue eye disappears and you hear
“Hush Ari he’s got his towel on. Act proper!”

Pushing the door open wide, a red haired young woman walks in quickly, carrying two large buckets of steaming water, a clean cloth slung over her shoulder. You can’t help but appreciate the curves that fill out her rather plain dress, the fabric positively straining at hip and bust. Rebellious crimson curls fight their way free of the hair band holding them as she gingerly sets the buckets down. Clearly this girls ancestors were not from here, most likely from the islands off the Iron Shore. Such features were common there. A more slender, shorter girlpushes in behind her, bearing another pair of buckets and blinking in shock at the sight of you. You can’t help but be a little vain and flex a bit as the girls eyes travel from muscle, to scar, to muscle and on to another scar.

The blonde, who must be Ari from seduction, brushes jaw length, wispy blonde hair from her face and rapidly grows flushed in the cheeks as she stands mutely behind the taller redhead, wringing her hands together.

The redhead, Gilly, clears her throat several times as she seeks to do her best to keep her eyes from roving across your form. Finally, she gestures to your weapon against the wall and the soiled armor and clothing folded near the chest on the floor.
“So.. um... Bryna says that you’re the one who saved little Nyla? Is, is that true? I heard some kind of monster snatched her.. how did you get her back safely?”

>What say? Be boastful? Be humble? You decide

>>3871344
Boastful, but speak only the true.

>>3871344
>Be humble. Truthful is more enjoyable, although they'd probably believe anything we told them.

>>3871344
Be humble.

>>3871344
Be humble but brutally honest, tell the tale exactly as it came to pass and spare no details.

>>3871344
Boastful, but honest.

>Feel free to write in suggestions guys. I’ll get a update posted shortly once im actually satisfied with how I write It

>>3871344
"Well, if you help me wash my back I can tell you, it's ddifficult to reach you see."

Be boasrful and honest, the girls are probably lookong for a story to tell after you are gone so no harm in giving it to them

>>3871412
+1

>>3871344
finally! we hunt for many reasons, like glory, gold and the thrill of the hunt, but an important one is to impress bored village girls!
no need to be a brooding hero, today was a good day, we killed two beasts and saved a child we were sure was long dead.

be honest with the red head, tell about how they attacked and how we dodged
at some point fetch the claw we took and show her, demontrating on her body where the beast would attack her young body
tell about how we not used only our strenght but cunning too, by taking the girl out of danger and using poison to help us deal with the female.

for last tell them that the wolves usually take children as offering for the female mate so she would not eat them up during the mating....we wouldn't mind our mate tried that, it would be undestandably difficult tho. And the hunter casually slips out of his towel and into the bathtub as he says that.

honest, humble and a little boastful kek

>>3871621
playing up our Bewolf side here

>>3871621
+1

>>3871621
This
This too>>3871353
Are ok for me too

You shrug broadly, unable to help hut notice how the girls eyes foot across you as they begin pouring water slowly into the tub.
“Well... I was traveling by and heard the commotion after young Nyla was taken. I was curious so I made my way over and spoke with Herrin. He and I made a deal and I went into the forest after the beast.”

Gesturing out the window to the expanse of trees visible in the silvery moonlight, you forge on.
“I tracked the Vargwulf for miles. The beasts are fast, as fast as a man on a horse but he couldn’t move at full speed. He needed Nyla alive as she wasn’t HIS meal, she was a gift”

The blonde, Ari, looks at you with a furrowed brow. She works her jaw for a second and asks
“A gift? A gift for who?”

You laugh and run a hand across your beard, small flakes of dried blood peeling from the hair as you do.
“For his mate. Vargwulves, their cunning beasts. The female is as likely to eat the male as she is to accept him. If he brings her a gift, she’s more likely to accept him... which is common for all women I believe”

Giving them both a wink, they giggle and nudge each other. Gilly sets her first empty bucket down and picks up the second.
“So... how did you do it? How did you kill them?”

Nodding your head at your cleaver, the blood smeared slab of leather leaning against the wall. Both girls eyes go even wider at the sight of the weapon, looking at you incredulously.
“I struck the male down first. I needed to make sure Nyla was safe so I attacked him from above, cleaving open his shoulder and crippling his arm. Drawing him away from the girl, I goaded him into attacking and when he did, I split him open.”

Ari nearly drops her bucket with a squeak as she looks from the weapon to you and back again. Her eyes are wide as she speaks
“You split him open? With that?”

Laughing, you nod and drag a finger across your chest, just below the center of your sternum.
“That I did. Right here, all the way through almost to his backbone.... what little spine the beast had anyway”

Gilly furrows her brow and blows a tuft of red hair out of her face as the steam frazzles it. Cocking her head, she narrows her eyes at you.
“And how about the female sir hunter? Did you chop her into a thousand bits?”

The playful wink she gives you makes you laugh and does more than awaken your interest in the redheads curves but you shrug, remaining nonchalant and humble.
“Nothing as grand as that. Once I carried Nyla out of harms way, I did what I could to make sure both she and I survived.”
Pulling your hunting knife from beneath the bed, you hold it up.
“Several years ago I came into the possession of a certain toxin. You wouldn’t have heard of it here but it can kill a strong man with a few drops. I smeared this dagger with the oil and threw it as the beast emerged from her lair, striking true and burying it in her flesh.”

>Cont

>>3872046
Both girls eyes widen as they regard the broad bladed knife and imagine the beast that would need poison on top of a weapon like that to prove fatal. You press your thumb into your upper chest to show the point of impact.
“The beast was dead as soon as the blade pierced her flesh but she didn’t know it yet. To keep it from coming after Nyla, I charged into the lair to wear it down and allow the toxin to weaken it.”

Gilly sets her second empty bucket by her feet and leans on the edge of the tub, her cheeks slightly red and her eyes wide as her and Ari listen enraptured as you describe your duel with the Vargwulf female.
“The beast would gut me if she landed a blow... the females are stronger and more vicious than the males by far. So I kept my distance, taking my wounds where I could. I cut here here, through the muscle and to the bone..”
You drag a finger across your bicep and upper chest.
“Slashed across her skull as she lunged, blinding her in one eye...”
You drag your thumb from the corner of your jawline to the edge of your eyebrow.
“Finally the beast grew desperate after I lopped off two of her claws. She threw the body of her mate at me and charged behind it, seeking to crush me.”

“What did you do?”
Squeals Ari, wringing her hands as she clutches the bucket to her midsection.

With more than a little pride coloring your voice, you return to the story.
“I used the slick earth to my advantage, sliding under the body and allowing it to pass over me. I used my momentum to leap up, bringing my blade around just as the she-beast lunged forward.”
Slicing the air with your hand, both girls jump at the sudden movement as you smile and lean back against the bed-frame
“I’m not sure if her body or head fell first but the beast died. That is all I cared to know. Leaving the beasts in the mud of their lair, I bandaged Nyla’s wounds, wrapped her in a blanket and carried her back.”

>Cont

>>3872047
Both girls stand speechless for a moment before taking a seemingly reflexive step back as you stand, approaching the steaming bathwater. Their eyes almost bulge from the sockets as you drop your towel nonchalantly and climb into the steaming water carefully, sighing with satisfaction as the water melts the tension from your muscles almost immediately. Opening your eyes, you can’t help but grin as the two girls stare into the water for a moment before Gilly jerks her gaze away and elbows Ari, both of them red as beets and flustered.
“Ah- well..um that... that was very brave of you sir. Um.. we Ah.. we thank you and umm... if there’s anything we can-“

Ari blurts our, her eyes as wide as saucers and seemingly flickering back towards the water with a mind of their own.
“I-is there anything you want us to... anything you *need* us to do? Or help you with? Sir?”

>I could use some help with my hair and back (Village gene pool: Changed)

>I can handle it myself but I’ll be sure to let you know if I can think of something *wink* (Not now, maybe later.)

>Thank you but I’m good for now! (Hunter is pure and not for lewd)

>>3872048

>I could use some help with my hair and back (Village gene pool: Changed)

Kek

>>3872048
>I can handle it myself but I’ll be sure to let you know if I can think of something *wink* (Not now, maybe later.)

>>3872048

>I can handle it myself but I’ll be sure to let you know if I can think of something *wink* (Not now, maybe later.)

"There's people waiting ne downstairs and I don't like to rush, but I heard nights around these parts are awfully cold, I could use some warmth when I come back here"

Soon!
Make sure to show some affection as they go Hunter.

>>3872048
>I can handle it myself but I’ll be sure to let you know if I can think of something *wink* (Village gene pool: Changed)

>>3872048
>I could use some help with my hair and back (Village gene pool: Changed)
That last bit caught me

>>3872048
>I could use some help with my hair and back (Village gene pool: Changed)

>>3872082
I can change to this

Whenever we bone them, now or later, try not to leave any children behind, that would make us a poor dad.

>>3872154
We'd be blessing them with superior genes. Plus it takes a village to raise a kid. and when we come by again in many years we have a son to take with us on awesome adventures (or daughter)

>>3872166
Eh, still would prefer to raise the kid into a proper northman or woman, not leave it, if we are having any offspring we should make sure they are up to par to call us their ancestors

>>3872173
..........

You want to carry a baby with us on the quest? One where our profession has a high attrition rate with monsters that would love to sink their teeth into their supple venison flesh? Are we gonna drag the women along with us to help raise the kid? Or did you want us to stop monster slaying and play retired monster hunter quest : Dadbod edition?

>>3872187
Dude no kek

What I'm saying is try not to have a kid until we settle many many years from now

>>3872194
>>3872187
The important word here is TRY, not saying to not do the deed, just to *TRY* to avoid the kid part.

But anyway, its a small thing only

>>3872194
What if we sustain an injury or curse that makes us unable to have kids, or we get mutilated down there? What if we find slim pickings later on or fail to have more than a few kids and they all die in battle or get wiped out from plague?

>>3872196
But then why bother having sex?

No, its not a small thing! That's why the girls are gawking at it!

>>3872211
To have of course, and if no kids so be it, having them and not raising is the same as not having any at all

>>3872211
>>3872196
holy shit dudes, it's just a joke, we are not having any kids

if every tavern girl got pregnant after fucking fantasy worlds would be a daycare.
this is a world of magic and potions, they surely have the necessary countermeasures

stop worrying for nothing and let's give them what they want already

If we have kids we can always go the Kratos route.

>>3872219
Not true, the kid will still grow up to be somebody.

>>3872225
We're just bantering back and forth, why are you getting so worked up?

>>3872262
That's my secret plan, Shhhh! The others hate it, don't tell anyone.

>>3872048
>>I could use some help with my hair and back (Village gene pool: Changed)

>>3872048
>I could use some help with my hair and back (Village gene pool: Changed)

>Sorry about today, didn’t mean to go awol but I was needed at the Gfs house and I couldn’t really say no. I’ll pick this back up in the morning, thanks for playing so far guys!

>>3872048
>I can handle it myself but I’ll be sure to let you know if I can think of something *wink* (Not now, maybe later.)

>>3872829
Did you get the good puss at least?

>>3873002
Of course, why else couldn't he say no?

>>3873002
>>3873394
This anon knows what’s up. Sometimes a man has obligations. I also had orientation at a new job today so that’s also good.