Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20190505142549/@comment-17114085-20190718155743

Tiskr stuck Boruus on his side. Bittnahjold broke off one of his armor plates, but failed to injure the Orc further.

Kal could see that the Orc's movements were sluggish from his injuries. If she outmaneuvered him she could strike at weakpoints at his joints, in between his armor's plates and at his neck. All she needed to do was be faster than him.

Reeth's lightning blast passed right beside Tiskr, making his hairs stick up, but still struck the Orc.

Boruus activated his Berserker Rage, allowing him to just barely resist being staggered by the lightning. He was very injured, but with his rage consuming him he was still standing and still tried to continue his attack.

Sága struck him with another arrow, this time hitting his leg.

Boruus barely felt it because of his rage and swung his axe at Tiskr's right thigh.

Bakel swung his cleaver at Bodvar, but the captain managed to avoid the attack entirely and counter-attacked with his axe.

Instead of trying to block or dodge, Bakel lunged into the swing and bashed Bodvar. The axe struck the Orcish plate and bounced off, while Bakel's momentum forced the axe further back than normal, creating an opening for Bakel to strike.

The Orc chief punched Bodvar in the face, at this close a range he couldn't swing his sword at him effectively, and knocked Bodvar back into the human line.

Jarl Sigurd's funeral had come and gone, the rest of the day was gloomy. The people left candles in Sigurd's honor outside the Hall of the Dead, marking a final goodbye to the beloved jarl.

Harald and his brother were walking down the steps to the palace's crypt. Olaf was carrying the urn with their father's ashes inside. They walked along the tombs of each of their ancestors on their way to their father's tomb at the end of the long hall.

When they arrived, Olaf placed the urn under the bust of Sigurd's likeness and said a prayer to Shor. "May you welcome him into your hall with open arms." He muttered.

"So ends the reign of Jarl Sigurd the Farmer." Harald muttered, looking upon the stone face of his father.

"So begins the reign of Jarl Harald the Heroic." Olaf said, looking to his younger brother.

"It should have been the reign of Jarl Olaf the Pious, not mine." Harald retorted.

"I gave up my rights to the jarldom upon becoming a Fox Priest. I...I was never made for that responsibility. Having the lives of thousands of people rest on my decisions...it scared me to my core. When you were born, I saw it as a blessing from Shor and ran away to join his cult and escape the burden." Olaf said. He looked to his father's bust and sighed with a heavy heart. "Father hated me for it, but it was the right decision. I second-guess myself too much. I would be an indecisive ruler. Ostmark would suffer for that if I was Jarl."

Does he think that I don't? I always reflect on my choices, wonder if I've made the right ones. He thought, though Harald did not say it aloud. Showing his own weakness would only make his brother feel worse. "Olaf, tomorrow during the inauguration of my rule...I want you to conduct it."

Olaf was a priest of Shor and a fairly high ranked one, the highest in the city at the moment. "I....I'll do it. I owe father that much."