"I take off my sock" and they all ran in fear

A few months back, my fellow adventurers in 15th century France punched the planet by destroying a caravan of gunpowder pulled by the French and daemon allied army with a divinely gifted Sunspear spell. Since then, we came across the French army (slightly diminished) where they scored a major victory over the English army. In our defence, they had daemons on their side. During the battle, we were trying to infiltrate the French camp to find and kill their commanders. We found what was allegedly the Duke of Arras’ tent, surrounded by a wall of lethal darkness. Then turned around to find the Duke de Compsey, one of Arras’ lieutenants and a few of his vampire minions. They obviously tried to kill us.

The fight lasted over a session, so we lost a number of our group to other commitments. Our priest (one of the best fighters in the party) was levitated by de Compsey and was being thrown into us as a living missile. As he was being thrown however, he lashed out with his hammer at the vampires and managed to knock a vampire’s head off. Levitating priest polo, anyone?

I attempted to stab a vampire in the back (I am not an honourable chap), he incapacitated his opponents then turned to face me. As he swung, he critically fumbled and threw his sword; it critically hit the Duke de Compsey in the head, killing him. Until this point we weren’t sure how we would survive the battle – we were totally outmatched by the vampires. After the battle, I renamed my character to ‘Lucky’ Hob Davies.

In between the 15th century games, we’ve been playing a feudal Japanese roleplay based on the Runescape rules. We’d avoided a battle with a giant sea octopus, because that sounds dangerous, but circumstances conspired to bring us back to it. Circumstances in the form of a cursed Viking and his ship of zombies, summoned by a scroll to ferry us around. He took us to a patch of sea, told us we had to defeat the monster and it would be here soon, then locked us on deck. The build-up was immense, we knew this would be tough. We’d been led to this moment for ages. We’d been warned by several people about the monster. As the tentacles rose from the sea, our Mongolian guide attacked with his sling. It had strike rank 1, so went before anyone else (including the monster). He scored a critical. And laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and told us he had a special ability on his ammunition called ‘death blow on critical’. So the monster died. And we continued on our quest.

If a battle cry is something you say before battle, then his battle cry that day was “I take off my sock…”

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