OK, maybe not deadliest. But pretty deadly nonetheless.
Last session, Rolend the Warrior roped down from a ledge into a cavern entrance beneath, crashing into a pair of draconids who were standing watch. After a moment of confusion, all parties scrambled to their feet, and the draconids snarled and hissed and lunged furiously for Rolend, fangs bared and talons outstretched. In an instant he sized them up, then drew his blessed blade Ysabel’s Tear and met their charge.
“You’re going solo into a kill conflict?!” I asked in amazement. “Yep,” he said. “I hope you’re sure,” I told him doubtfully. The rest of the group thought he was nuts.
He rolled and wound up with 9 disposition to their 7, while I scripted Attack, Maneuver, Defend. He jotted down his actions, then made to show them to the magician’s player for approval (he’s got the best read on my scripts). “Nope, dude, I’m not there,” the magician’s player said. “Not gonna look at it.” It was all up to him.
First volley, he scripted a Maneuver, and Rolend dodged out of the draconids’ reach and put the cave-mouth he roped into at their back, looking to push them toward it. He barely won, and Impeded the draconids. The second volley was his Attack vs. my Maneuver, and he added the sword die, invoked the sword’s blessing (adds a second sword bonus die once in a conflict), and used his Heart of Battle trait to help. You know how the story goes: GM rolls crap, player rolls a bunch of 6s, opens them with fate, keeps rolling 6s…
After the draconids’ innate chainmail armor, I had 2 points of disposition left, but I had a Defend scripted, so I was optimistic. Until I saw his Feint.
Up on the ledge above, the rest of the crew heard Rolend go over the side, followed by a lot of clatters, thumps, and hissing. The rope went taut, and the air rang with the eerie keen they all recognized as the deadly song of Ysabel’s Tear. Then they felt two sharp tugs on the rope, and heard Rolend say, “C’mon already, the coast is clear.” In a trice, he’d single-handedly killed two draconids (each one bigger than he was!) and hadn’t taken a scratch. “Holy shit, Rolend!” the thief gasped. “Leave some for us, will you?”
I think this story’s going to be told and retold over the Winter.