- Location
- South Africa
I'll be closing the vote in 6-14 hours
Rings and Grudges (A LOTR/Warhammer Fantasy Crossover)
- Thread starter Mad0Slayer
- Start date
- Fantasy
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Yeah. . .plan using all the points is wining very much
- Location
- South Africa
Ah the wonders of a landslide victory, oh well at least I'll know what plan to use in the update
, now the only downside is if the vote somehow flips I' could end up scraping portions of it. So the question remains, to start early or hold off for a bit🤔.
, now the only downside is if the vote somehow flips I' could end up scraping portions of it. So the question remains, to start early or hold off for a bit🤔.
- Location
- South Africa
The vote is closed, on account of the landslide victory for the votes now I gotta just get this update just right or at least as close as I can get it.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
At least we can ensure that Thorin can become a much better King, especially with Dawi teaching him more strictly about being wary of Dragon Sicknes, one of the worst mental illnesses that Dawi/Dwarf could fall for.
The dwarves of Erebor despise us. Thorin's dad is dead at our coronation party. Don't think we're going to be influencing them at all tbh.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
They will need help because as much as it seems a bad idea...Erebor must fall from the flames and claws of Smaug, to wake up Erebor Dwars for their arrogance. And our character would...okay, he will greet those who actually want his help if we have an option or at least help them move forward and rebuild. It is at least what we can do for them. Dawi will feel ashamed that many guests died in their home because of orcs getting inside the hold, it was a shame for them for this to happen.
I agree with everything your saying but I don't think any of the dwarves or at most only a negligible amount are going to want our help. People aren't rational beings sometimes and dwarves are even less so.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Good point. From what I read, Torin doesn't have bad outlook towards Dawi? Or I guess he was yet to be informed of his father's death...and then fall of Erebor will happen and he will be not emotionally stable.
- Location
- Australia
Yeah thats my quest, and sorry for the radio silence on it guys.
Again, I'm happy you got them mixed up, I am still active. Albeit mainly just helping Madslayer with this quest, as its our baby, but he has full custody
While I don't recommend holding me to this to update in the near future, A song of Ice and Stone will continue. I'm just in a very different position compared to where I was last year. Mainly research work. My prior job had too much free time, giving me time to write, as I'd normally blitz through the days workload in half an hour. I'm just hoping to build up a backlog of material before i continue with the thread, so as to not leave you guys hanging again.
All of which is still melodramatic as it was only 2 turns long; but so long as your still interested, I will return.
Last edited:
It was very good and as a lover of anything with Irish/Gaelic languages/cultures I really liked how you made them a reference for the Mountain clans. But once again Briton you can only write what you can comfortably write real life takes precedence.Yeah thats my quest, and sorry for the radio silence on it guys.
Again, I'm happy you got them mixed up, I am still active. Albeit mainly just helping Madslayer with this quest, as its our baby, but he has full custody
While I don't recommend holding me to this to update in the near future, A song of Ice and Stone will continue. I'm just in a very different position compared to where I was last year. Mainly research work. My prior job had too much free time, giving me time to write, as I'd normally blitz through the days workload in half an hour. I'm just hoping to build up a backlog of material before i continue with the thread, so as to not leave you guys hanging again.
All of which is still melodramatic as it was only 2 turns long; but so long as your still interested, I will return.
- Location
- Australia
Aw, thank you. I love history and languages (again mainly their evolutionary history), so I'm always happy when people pick up on it. Sometimes I do play with the words to make them slightly more alien, or to come off the tongue (but always try to leave translations if this is the case). Or in the case of cornish, to make is slightly more different from welsh (it was, but the current restored language I use to translate is rarely even slightly misspelt welsh)
While its more for flavor, I've also gone the route of making the Daynes/Stony Dornish Scots Gaelic (rest of Dorne is spanish), and the Firstmen Riverlanders Cornish. Northmen and Wildlings speak Welsh and Cumbric respectively; and in order to reflect their history, the Ironborn will speak Manx. The Southern Firstmen Cultural groups are Q-Celtic speakers; whereas the Northmen and Riverlanders are P/B Celtic.
I have chosen the route of all firstmen houses (and their corresponding small folk) speak celtic dialects; with the switch to common tongue being a post Aegon's Conquest achievement (it also explains why the hell the North for some reason stopped speaking old tongue, despite never being culturally or martially conquered)
Last edited:
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It is alright man. I love the quest and soon realization when Dawi realize there is a human version of 'dwarfs' there which is more of a joke than the real deal. I imagine soooooooooo many grudges if some stupid noble men will insult Dawi.Yeah thats my quest, and sorry for the radio silence on it guys.
Again, I'm happy you got them mixed up, I am still active. Albeit mainly just helping Madslayer with this quest, as its our baby, but he has full custody
While I don't recommend holding me to this to update in the near future, A song of Ice and Stone will continue. I'm just in a very different position compared to where I was last year. Mainly research work. My prior job had too much free time, giving me time to write, as I'd normally blitz through the days workload in half an hour. I'm just hoping to build up a backlog of material before i continue with the thread, so as to not leave you guys hanging again.
All of which is still melodramatic as it was only 2 turns long; but so long as your still interested, I will return.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Stonehands. . .if they were masons too, it would be perfect
That is something for the author to decide. I may try again another time and put more detail into it.
- Location
- Australia
There won't be any new Dawi clans - well not for at least a century or two of baby booms...
But that is a very nice name/specialisation for a hybrid clan. (a few dawi miners founding a mining clan with Khazad filling the ranks)
With your permission, id also like to have the freedom to poach this for my own quest; albiet this as a scion clan for one of the many clans in that quest (there are no more dawi sans the trader, outside of the hold. But that doesn't mean they're the only children of Valaya)
Last edited:
Be my guest. I did not put much thought into this clan, but I hope the clan will be able to fulfill their oaths.
The Day of fire part 2
- Location
- South Africa
Edited by ImperialBriton
The Day of fire part 2
The stroll to the training pit was a tense one, despite the bounding energy of the young raven haired princeling before them. Flanked by guards on all sides, Gotrisson leaned in towards Balin, before stealthily passing him the cleaved coin. With a barely hidden sigh the auburn dwarf scowled. "How bad has it become?" He asked from the corner of his mouth.
Reaching the great war pit, tussling the princelings hair before he rushed down to match against another boy, this one thrice his age, Gotrisson leaned against the railing, before speaking quietly. "only 5 in 1000 coins contained a trace of gold. The rest were but nickel and pyrite." He looked at his companion, dead in the eyes. "How bad is it?" He asked his voice barely above that of a whisper as the young Khazad puffed on his pipe erratically.
Clenching his knuckles till they were white against the gold-flecked meridian stone, Balin let out a frustrated puff of smoke, his eyes slowly drifting towards the boy below. "The king is hoarding all the gold that passes through these halls. They're feeding his latest project, a giant golden statue dedicated to Mahal."
"Ancestors…" Gotrisson cursed. "Is his lust for gold so great? What of your mines?" He waved to the rippling veins of gold littering the emerald hall. Balin's eyes flickered for a moment with stress. "He… has taken his right, these halls being his and his alone, storing it for safe keeping within his vaults. No, he has… Other sources..."
Gotrisson looked at him with a raised brow. "From his own coins?"
Balin sighed. "Not only that, trinkets, baubles, anything that can be taken from the markets of men without complaint." Rubbing his brow he looked to his friend. "But away from this, I would prefer we talk on something less…" He waved his pipe tensely… "I hear my friend your people are near finished their work in the lands of men?" He nodded to the now victorious boy below. "You know, Thorin will be devastated, he's gotten used to your lot being around, no doubt it will be far duller for him now he can't spy on your latest constructions with that farseer glass you gave him." He said, hands no longer clenched as he leaned over offering the pipe to his friend.
Knowing his original question was being avoided, likely for his companion's mental health, Gotrisson snorted before leaning back from the stone banister. Accepting the pipe he shrugged his shoulders after a deep puff. "The lad will live and there are far worse fate's the boredom at his age, how's his training going?" Gotrissons voice turned less gravelly as both dwarves eyes caught onto the boy, who now faced yet another opponent.
The Khazad managed a chuckle as the boy slid between the legs of his opponent. "He's getting reckless." He said with a laugh. "Something I find challenging to rid him of, if only because he's almost as stubborn as bedrock." The boy continued to dance around his much larger opponent, casting lightning fast strikes against the bigger boy, to fast to be dodged, yet too light to do more than tax him. Noticing this Balin loosed a sigh before he leaned over the railing. "Thorin end this already!" He yelled to his young charge.
Gotrisson chuckled, passing back the pipe. "I take it it's a work in progress?" Balin snorted. "In terms of fighting? Yes. Thankfully." He leaned back over the rail again. "Yes Thorin, yes very good… Bah…" He grumbled. "Sorry, thankfully he takes to his studies far more strictly, by Durin the boy is good with numbers."
Chuckling Gotrisson clapped him over his shoulders in an embrace. "Ah, well at least we know the line Durin has another penny pincher in the family. Maybe then you can spend your grey years focused on the mining and artisanry, you seemed so keen to avoid." He roared with laughter as Balin blanched. "Bind me to the seneschal's post for the rest of my days, I'll never understand how you mad dawi can spend your days doing such labours… The King would have a riot on his hands were he to do that here…" The two dwarves looked at one another silently again before chuckling in unison.
"Again." Gotrisson patted the younger dwarf shoulder. "You're doing well my friend, keep this up, and mayhaps you'll have a king, worthy of reclaiming the name of that Durin of yours."
Balin gave a confused nod, before a loud horn rang through the halls. The assembled Khazad grumbled before heading to the barracks to gather their gear and return to their posts. "I'd hoped that we'd have a bit more time, but duty calls. Even the line of Durin has to take up garrison duty." The pair chuckled as Thorin raced towards them, now clad in a miniature version of his guards Armor.
"I'll walk with you there my friend, though after I'll need a runner to pass with me, I have been bidden an audience with lord Nain of the iron hills, what your kings cousin wants of me, I have no idea, only that he requested it with that firemouthed brother of yours." Balin snorted. "Dwalin, brother mine, never change…"
They reached the fortifications guarding the gate to Erebor, only to struggle as the winds, previously just aggressive, stormed around them. Beyond a great bell could be heard chiming… The pair grabbed onto Thorins cloak as the boy clung for dear life as he was nearly sent back reeling into the hall below. Balin sniffed the air. Broken pieces of wood flew everywhere. To Gotrissons nose, a familiar stench filled the air…
"By Mahal what is going o…"
They lurched back in shock as before them, the white walled city of Dale exploded into a glowing pyre.
"What the..!"
"DRAGON!"
Gotrisson grabbed the princeling and his tutor, tossing them behind a pillar, as the gatehouse around them was wreathed in golden flame.
Growling Gotrisson grabbed his axe off his back as he broke out into a run, his legs clearing three or four steps while the Khazad seemed to stand around him in a stupor only Balin following him with a string of curses, glaring at the Khazad as he passed them, Bellowing out orders his voice carrying deep into the mountain. "MOVE YOUR KRUTING ASS YA BLOODY ELF LOVERS, THERE'S A DRAGON AT YOUR GATES!!!" Hordes of Khazad rushed out in haphazard armor. The trio looking on in terror, as a great golden dragon tore through the gate below them. Crushing all in its wake…
***
(Meanwhile moments before in the City of Dale)
Dawi noticing Smaug: 54 (DC is 60 but above 50, so not enough time to man the defences but enough time for people to start getting in the cellars) (So your not gonna
His day thoroughly ruined by the all too positive and cheerful umgi around him, Floki poured himself some well-aged ale, as he observed yet another manling harvest festival. Already having opened one of the three keg's the enclaves makeshift brewery had crafted over the last decade, he took a sniff of the brew and basked in it's (rather mediocre) glory while toasting to his success. The sun now having just passed it's mid-way arc through the sky, glared down balefully at him. Already he was developing a tan that would make his newfound king look pale by comparison, much to his own chagrin. Giving it the gimlet eye, he turned his attention back to his drink, taking a small sip, savoring its rich flavour while the umgi blissfully went about their day prattling and gawking away. After a moment's grumble, he decided to top up his hungry stomach with a nice bit of stonebread (thankfully something of Khazad craft he could respect) with goat stew… She may have a beard but that khazad lass sure knew how to cook. Spoon in hand, he gave one last survey of the manlings towers that patrolled the skies above, only to snort as they spent their time trying to keep their felt hats on their heads...
Letting out a disparaging remark he switched his gaze over to the mountain, the Khazad their standing all shiny and stiff, many of them seeming to glare in his direction a few of them even seeming a little loose in their composure than previous days, he hoped the Thane's cousin could push them a little further, damned watch post was nothing more than boring outside of his little comforts.
Taking a moment to glance at his ale, he wondered if he could grab some more stew to go along with it, only to freeze solid. A distinct stench filled the air… One combining that of gold, ash, and burnt meat. Growling up at the sky above him. His eyes shrank to pinpricks as he remembered what that meant.
The long since windy day was now tranquil, as a great shadow blocked out the sun. Looking up at this distraction to the sun's flare, his voice froze in his throat. A Drake, easily the size of an Elgi mount, loomed above them all, a cold grin filling its horrible maw…
"D-d." He coughed. "DRAGON!"
The umgi barely had a moment to chime their bells, before a ball of fire fell atop of them.
***
Grunting with exertion Floki's face was red from the heat as he braced behind the oak table he had once feasted upon. Several umgi children beside him cried, as the dwarf forced his back against the wooden shield that protected them from the raging fire above.
The Dragons first fireball, had been focused upon the bell tower; eliminating the 3 bolt throwers guarding it in one fell swoop. He had barely had the time to pluck some of the umgi near him, thrusting them into one of the many bolt holes he knew led to the safe vaults below, before another plume fell upon them.
Thankfully the dragon's rage had been drawn elsewhere, as the now blackened and cracking 'barricade' turned to powder above him. Glaring at the still terrified umgi before him, he roared "Run!". Before climbing back out of the hatch, leaping into the now infernal streets. Thanking Valaya he had commissioned a rune of the furnace as a beardling…
Coughing like bloody murder he made his way to one of the remaining towers, and raced up its stairs. At the top, three familiar forms fought through the glowing smoke. A tall manling, and his two short companions. Launching bolt after bolt into the cackling drakes form. "Snorri what in Morgrims name are you doing! Go for the gut! Take the thing down!" He roared, only to be stunned as the manling Gerion, launched bolt after bolt at its underbelly…
An underbelly glistening with glittering stones…
"I can take him, give me more arrows!" Gerion roared. Only for his dawi team to bolt as the thrower was lit on fire.
"Cravens" He yelled, Floki looking on at him with strange admiration, as the manling loaded a bolt himself onto the burning machine, singing his hands. Before loosing one final shot at the monster.
A crack filled the air, pausing the creatures pulsing laughter, as the bolt flew from its scales shimmering with emerald light.
It swung its terrible head, now absent one eye, to face them. "YOU!" It Roared. "DARE". The maw glowed, billowing smoke. "STRIKE ME!"
The four figures barely had a moment to think before an explosion threw them from the tower, into the flames below.
***
DC of 70 to hit Smaug:
You fall short of saving Dale at least partially by 2 rolls so Dale takes reduced losses that would have been taken overall. Since you also took Fortified Cellars and with your Rolls Dale as a Kingdom does survive despite the loss of its capital and will not collapse as it did in Canon both in thanks to its army and leadership still being intact along with food from the cellars you fortified. (Just as a note with the options you took you minimized Dale's losses better than if you'd gone for a full complement of Bolt Throwers.)
Now if you're wondering how Dale's Capital could have been saved you'd have needed at least another 2 successful rolls to ensure it was intact enough for it to be still used as a fortress to keep an eye on Smaug in a relatively damaged state, if you wanted Dale's city intact you would have needed another 7 successful rolls to keep it in good condition but it would have also meant sacrificing more points to Bolt Throwers and would have incidentally cost the city over half its population to succeed. (Unless you got better rolls then it would have been better but that's a tall ask)
Number of Dale Survivors: 24 000
Erebor Survivors: 39 000 out of 65 000 dwarfs survived this attack
The Day of fire part 2
The stroll to the training pit was a tense one, despite the bounding energy of the young raven haired princeling before them. Flanked by guards on all sides, Gotrisson leaned in towards Balin, before stealthily passing him the cleaved coin. With a barely hidden sigh the auburn dwarf scowled. "How bad has it become?" He asked from the corner of his mouth.
Reaching the great war pit, tussling the princelings hair before he rushed down to match against another boy, this one thrice his age, Gotrisson leaned against the railing, before speaking quietly. "only 5 in 1000 coins contained a trace of gold. The rest were but nickel and pyrite." He looked at his companion, dead in the eyes. "How bad is it?" He asked his voice barely above that of a whisper as the young Khazad puffed on his pipe erratically.
Clenching his knuckles till they were white against the gold-flecked meridian stone, Balin let out a frustrated puff of smoke, his eyes slowly drifting towards the boy below. "The king is hoarding all the gold that passes through these halls. They're feeding his latest project, a giant golden statue dedicated to Mahal."
"Ancestors…" Gotrisson cursed. "Is his lust for gold so great? What of your mines?" He waved to the rippling veins of gold littering the emerald hall. Balin's eyes flickered for a moment with stress. "He… has taken his right, these halls being his and his alone, storing it for safe keeping within his vaults. No, he has… Other sources..."
Gotrisson looked at him with a raised brow. "From his own coins?"
Balin sighed. "Not only that, trinkets, baubles, anything that can be taken from the markets of men without complaint." Rubbing his brow he looked to his friend. "But away from this, I would prefer we talk on something less…" He waved his pipe tensely… "I hear my friend your people are near finished their work in the lands of men?" He nodded to the now victorious boy below. "You know, Thorin will be devastated, he's gotten used to your lot being around, no doubt it will be far duller for him now he can't spy on your latest constructions with that farseer glass you gave him." He said, hands no longer clenched as he leaned over offering the pipe to his friend.
Knowing his original question was being avoided, likely for his companion's mental health, Gotrisson snorted before leaning back from the stone banister. Accepting the pipe he shrugged his shoulders after a deep puff. "The lad will live and there are far worse fate's the boredom at his age, how's his training going?" Gotrissons voice turned less gravelly as both dwarves eyes caught onto the boy, who now faced yet another opponent.
The Khazad managed a chuckle as the boy slid between the legs of his opponent. "He's getting reckless." He said with a laugh. "Something I find challenging to rid him of, if only because he's almost as stubborn as bedrock." The boy continued to dance around his much larger opponent, casting lightning fast strikes against the bigger boy, to fast to be dodged, yet too light to do more than tax him. Noticing this Balin loosed a sigh before he leaned over the railing. "Thorin end this already!" He yelled to his young charge.
Gotrisson chuckled, passing back the pipe. "I take it it's a work in progress?" Balin snorted. "In terms of fighting? Yes. Thankfully." He leaned back over the rail again. "Yes Thorin, yes very good… Bah…" He grumbled. "Sorry, thankfully he takes to his studies far more strictly, by Durin the boy is good with numbers."
Chuckling Gotrisson clapped him over his shoulders in an embrace. "Ah, well at least we know the line Durin has another penny pincher in the family. Maybe then you can spend your grey years focused on the mining and artisanry, you seemed so keen to avoid." He roared with laughter as Balin blanched. "Bind me to the seneschal's post for the rest of my days, I'll never understand how you mad dawi can spend your days doing such labours… The King would have a riot on his hands were he to do that here…" The two dwarves looked at one another silently again before chuckling in unison.
"Again." Gotrisson patted the younger dwarf shoulder. "You're doing well my friend, keep this up, and mayhaps you'll have a king, worthy of reclaiming the name of that Durin of yours."
Balin gave a confused nod, before a loud horn rang through the halls. The assembled Khazad grumbled before heading to the barracks to gather their gear and return to their posts. "I'd hoped that we'd have a bit more time, but duty calls. Even the line of Durin has to take up garrison duty." The pair chuckled as Thorin raced towards them, now clad in a miniature version of his guards Armor.
"I'll walk with you there my friend, though after I'll need a runner to pass with me, I have been bidden an audience with lord Nain of the iron hills, what your kings cousin wants of me, I have no idea, only that he requested it with that firemouthed brother of yours." Balin snorted. "Dwalin, brother mine, never change…"
They reached the fortifications guarding the gate to Erebor, only to struggle as the winds, previously just aggressive, stormed around them. Beyond a great bell could be heard chiming… The pair grabbed onto Thorins cloak as the boy clung for dear life as he was nearly sent back reeling into the hall below. Balin sniffed the air. Broken pieces of wood flew everywhere. To Gotrissons nose, a familiar stench filled the air…
"By Mahal what is going o…"
They lurched back in shock as before them, the white walled city of Dale exploded into a glowing pyre.
"What the..!"
"DRAGON!"
Gotrisson grabbed the princeling and his tutor, tossing them behind a pillar, as the gatehouse around them was wreathed in golden flame.
Growling Gotrisson grabbed his axe off his back as he broke out into a run, his legs clearing three or four steps while the Khazad seemed to stand around him in a stupor only Balin following him with a string of curses, glaring at the Khazad as he passed them, Bellowing out orders his voice carrying deep into the mountain. "MOVE YOUR KRUTING ASS YA BLOODY ELF LOVERS, THERE'S A DRAGON AT YOUR GATES!!!" Hordes of Khazad rushed out in haphazard armor. The trio looking on in terror, as a great golden dragon tore through the gate below them. Crushing all in its wake…
***
(Meanwhile moments before in the City of Dale)
Dawi noticing Smaug: 54 (DC is 60 but above 50, so not enough time to man the defences but enough time for people to start getting in the cellars) (So your not gonna
His day thoroughly ruined by the all too positive and cheerful umgi around him, Floki poured himself some well-aged ale, as he observed yet another manling harvest festival. Already having opened one of the three keg's the enclaves makeshift brewery had crafted over the last decade, he took a sniff of the brew and basked in it's (rather mediocre) glory while toasting to his success. The sun now having just passed it's mid-way arc through the sky, glared down balefully at him. Already he was developing a tan that would make his newfound king look pale by comparison, much to his own chagrin. Giving it the gimlet eye, he turned his attention back to his drink, taking a small sip, savoring its rich flavour while the umgi blissfully went about their day prattling and gawking away. After a moment's grumble, he decided to top up his hungry stomach with a nice bit of stonebread (thankfully something of Khazad craft he could respect) with goat stew… She may have a beard but that khazad lass sure knew how to cook. Spoon in hand, he gave one last survey of the manlings towers that patrolled the skies above, only to snort as they spent their time trying to keep their felt hats on their heads...
Letting out a disparaging remark he switched his gaze over to the mountain, the Khazad their standing all shiny and stiff, many of them seeming to glare in his direction a few of them even seeming a little loose in their composure than previous days, he hoped the Thane's cousin could push them a little further, damned watch post was nothing more than boring outside of his little comforts.
Taking a moment to glance at his ale, he wondered if he could grab some more stew to go along with it, only to freeze solid. A distinct stench filled the air… One combining that of gold, ash, and burnt meat. Growling up at the sky above him. His eyes shrank to pinpricks as he remembered what that meant.
The long since windy day was now tranquil, as a great shadow blocked out the sun. Looking up at this distraction to the sun's flare, his voice froze in his throat. A Drake, easily the size of an Elgi mount, loomed above them all, a cold grin filling its horrible maw…
"D-d." He coughed. "DRAGON!"
The umgi barely had a moment to chime their bells, before a ball of fire fell atop of them.
***
Grunting with exertion Floki's face was red from the heat as he braced behind the oak table he had once feasted upon. Several umgi children beside him cried, as the dwarf forced his back against the wooden shield that protected them from the raging fire above.
The Dragons first fireball, had been focused upon the bell tower; eliminating the 3 bolt throwers guarding it in one fell swoop. He had barely had the time to pluck some of the umgi near him, thrusting them into one of the many bolt holes he knew led to the safe vaults below, before another plume fell upon them.
Thankfully the dragon's rage had been drawn elsewhere, as the now blackened and cracking 'barricade' turned to powder above him. Glaring at the still terrified umgi before him, he roared "Run!". Before climbing back out of the hatch, leaping into the now infernal streets. Thanking Valaya he had commissioned a rune of the furnace as a beardling…
Coughing like bloody murder he made his way to one of the remaining towers, and raced up its stairs. At the top, three familiar forms fought through the glowing smoke. A tall manling, and his two short companions. Launching bolt after bolt into the cackling drakes form. "Snorri what in Morgrims name are you doing! Go for the gut! Take the thing down!" He roared, only to be stunned as the manling Gerion, launched bolt after bolt at its underbelly…
An underbelly glistening with glittering stones…
"I can take him, give me more arrows!" Gerion roared. Only for his dawi team to bolt as the thrower was lit on fire.
"Cravens" He yelled, Floki looking on at him with strange admiration, as the manling loaded a bolt himself onto the burning machine, singing his hands. Before loosing one final shot at the monster.
A crack filled the air, pausing the creatures pulsing laughter, as the bolt flew from its scales shimmering with emerald light.
It swung its terrible head, now absent one eye, to face them. "YOU!" It Roared. "DARE". The maw glowed, billowing smoke. "STRIKE ME!"
The four figures barely had a moment to think before an explosion threw them from the tower, into the flames below.
***
DC of 70 to hit Smaug:
Rolls for Dale
The first set of rolls for Dale Defences: 76,64,53,23 (1 over Dc) (3 Dawi bolt Throwers and 1 Wind lance)
The second set of rolls for Dale Defences: 49,86,52,25 (1 over Dc)
The third set of rolls for Dale Defences: 18, 96, 60, 12 (1 over Dc)
The Fourth set of rolls for Dale Defences: 48,84,1,97 (2 over Dc)
Overall rolls over DC is 5. Smaug has 5 additional Weak points added over the base one he get's from his attack on the City of Dale. (So, he's a bit easier to kill, also Erebor might have a few more surviving dwarfs than in canon due to a few bolts.)
Smaug avoiding being maimed 1d100 : 20 (He loses an eye)
King Gerion Surviving: 69 (Ya he lives)
The first set of rolls for Dale Defences: 76,64,53,23 (1 over Dc) (3 Dawi bolt Throwers and 1 Wind lance)
The second set of rolls for Dale Defences: 49,86,52,25 (1 over Dc)
The third set of rolls for Dale Defences: 18, 96, 60, 12 (1 over Dc)
The Fourth set of rolls for Dale Defences: 48,84,1,97 (2 over Dc)
Overall rolls over DC is 5. Smaug has 5 additional Weak points added over the base one he get's from his attack on the City of Dale. (So, he's a bit easier to kill, also Erebor might have a few more surviving dwarfs than in canon due to a few bolts.)
Smaug avoiding being maimed 1d100 : 20 (He loses an eye)
King Gerion Surviving: 69 (Ya he lives)
Now if you're wondering how Dale's Capital could have been saved you'd have needed at least another 2 successful rolls to ensure it was intact enough for it to be still used as a fortress to keep an eye on Smaug in a relatively damaged state, if you wanted Dale's city intact you would have needed another 7 successful rolls to keep it in good condition but it would have also meant sacrificing more points to Bolt Throwers and would have incidentally cost the city over half its population to succeed. (Unless you got better rolls then it would have been better but that's a tall ask)
Number of Dale Survivors: 24 000
Erebor Survivors: 39 000 out of 65 000 dwarfs survived this attack
Last edited:
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Still...it was worth it. Not the best rolls, but at least Smaug paid with his eye and 5 weak points. And a funny number for Gerion's survival. We already see the changes in Middle-Earth history.
How our clan was just hit with 10000 orcs killed a lot of our refugees and destroyed key infasturcture i dont see us trekking to a mountain hold that disrespected us right from the beginning trying to force us to pay tithe dawi dont forget (any kind of insult set it aside evalute whats more worth it but they DONT FORGET)
Unless good Dawi died in the attack, I see no reason at present to spend time and resources sending the Throng marching half a continent away to fight a Dragon.