Into Dol Guldur

[tomcat]

Ok - so you are not seeing anything missing, correct?

[Eclecticon]

  I'm pretty sure I've got everything.  I stuck a post up to 'claim' Bandy, but didn't post any rolls as you were still working out the mechanics of it.  I'll get something up today. 

[Posterboy]

Esgalwen saw Orophin, lost in grief, teetering towards the foul swamp. Her mind raced for a way to reach her friend, to call him back from Death's grip. The words of a song of old came to her, words she heard once before, sung by the elf himself. She prayed her voice would not fail her now.

  I'm going to try a Song test to help Orophin

Song Test (TN=17)

feat die 1d12 : 3, total 3

skill dice 2d6 : 1, 1, total 2

[Posterboy]

  Sorry, Orophin   

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast takes handfuls of Bandy's cloak and hood, trying to pull him back as if pulling on a rope.  The wool of the cloak has suffered from the mist and mire, though, and begins to give way around the fastening pin.  Hearing the sound of tearing, Arbogast makes a lunge for his hand. 


Rolling Athletics...

 

Rolled 1d12 : 3, total 3
Rolled 2d6 : 3, 5, total 8

[Eclecticon]

Both Man's hand and Hobbit's are slippery with sweat and grime, and Bandy slips easily through Arbogast's grasp and goes half-staggering half-sliding down the bank.  Without thinking, the Woodman launches himself full-length after him, coming to rest in the sloping muck with one hand awkwardly pinning the Hobbit's arm and another firmly gripping a handful of hair.  He suppresses a shudder at the look of baleful entrancement on his friend's face as he tries to slowly pull him up to safety. 


I'll spend a point of Hope to bump that total up to 13.  Per p 134, I get it straight back. 

[tomcat]

Orophin pushed passed Esgalwen, her hands slipping from their grasp and her eyes bewildered. The Elf did not seem to hear her words. He walked towards the edge of the bridge, even as Grimbeorn wrestled Rorin to the far end, and Arbogast the young Hobbit.

The Silvan Elf did not jump, he fell forward - his face and chest smacking into the stagnant water below. The motion of his body caused the mists to billow out, but then the tendrils closed back over where he fell like a terrible hand. Esgalwen only saw the morass, green and fetid, before Orophin disappeared within. But before the mists enclosed his fall, she saw grizzly, undead faces looking up from below the water - their mouths' flesh drawn back in horrid dead grins, and each seemed to glow with an eerie white light.

Corpse Candles, she thought, her mind racing back to the tales of the Dead Marshes and the Will'O Wisps that were said to haunt the region.

With the mists covering where he had disappeared, the Dúnadan saw only two choices - jump in after him in hopes to save Orophin...or leave him behind. All of her other friends were safely across, only Radagast looked on in shock.



Tom, I leave Radagast for you to play. Ayrn...have fun.  

[Posterboy]

  Son of a...

Even as the words of the song fumbled out of the fair ranger's mouth, Esgalwen's heart knew they were of no use in breaking the enchantment on her elven companion. She watched with horror as the faces of the dead rose up in the foul waters to meet the falling Orophin.

"You shall not have him!" she cried out to the swamp. Dropping her pack, Esgalwen unsheathed the blade at her side and dived in after her companion.

  Last ditch effort!

[Eclecticon]

I'm guessing that neither Grimbeorn not Arbogast can leave their charges to help, or they'll just their themselves in as well?

[tomcat]

"Esgalwen, no!", cried Radagast as the Ranger dove.

And then she was gone.

Now on the far side of the bridge, Arbogast and Grimbeorn could feel their charges returning to themselves, shoving against their grip and asking what and why.

The wizard stood alone on the span, looking over the edge into the swirling mists. Save for the initial splash, and a following swish of water, no other sound was now heard.
holy crap! Wasn't sure if she'd go. Give me some time to figure these tests out. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Rorin, someone, rope!" cried Grimbeorn as he rushed over to where the companions had fallen into the fell waters.

[Posterboy]

  Yes, please! HELP!! 

Truthfully, I can't imagine Esgalwen doing any different. But, should they perish, while I will be sad to lose the ranger, I do have a Laketown Minstrel character in mind that I'd love to try out too. So, don't feel like you have to pull punches or fudge rolls to save the girl. 

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast spares a glance at Rorin and Bandobras, but both are still listless after their own violation by the spirits of the marsh.  The dwarf is carrying what little rope the fellowship brought with them - they came to sneak into a fortress, not climb a mountain - but there is no time to shake him into alertness.  Instead, Arbogast draws his dagger and slices through the bottom of his pack, letting the contents spill out.  Mercifully, the coil of rope is there. 

He hands one end to Grimbeorn, letting the larger man brace himself and prepare to pull, then stands as close to the edge as he dares, trying to empty his mind and listen, over the sound of his own heavy breathing, for the slightest sound of motion in the mist. 

Surely, he thinks, surely they will stir the muck.  Surely I will hear...


Alertness roll - Ave Maria, mater de Deus...

 

Rolled 1d12 : 4, total 4
Rolled 2d6 : 2, 2, total 4

[Eclecticon]

You're kidding me, right?

[Bandobras]

Bandy stares blurry-eyed and disoriented into the distance as if he had awakened rudely from a comfortable dream to find himself in a fog and did not know where he was. Slowly turning his head this way and that, he sees Rorin standing nearby as if in daze. Where are the others. A sudden fear grips him. "Arbogast! Esgalwen!" Turning he sees Arbogast and Grimbeorn on the bridge working frantically with the rope. Grabbing the dwarf hard with both hands and shakes him as hard as he can. "Something is wrong Rorin! We must help!"