FELLOWSHIP PHASE: Part 1 - Busy hands and fine crafts

[tomcat]

Doug, do you know how many have been awarded since the start of the game?  I've been very slack about keeping track.

All PC's should have 32 XP in their Total boxes - that is how many have been rewarded since we started.

So in reading the OOC thread - I know you guys want to stay in Mountain Hall a while longer, and then go to the Hobbit Inn to the north. I am getting mixed reads though - some are asking if the Fellowship Phase still occurs, and Paul even gave us a great new undertaking (which we can use).

My question to you all is - would you prefer the goblin and min fortification be part of the Fellowship Phase, or do you want to RP the goblin reavers? Once done, head north to the Hobbit Inn?

The advancement and experience rewards are still happening. The Fellowship Phase is still in affect, but your undertakings will be part of our RPG'ing - so pick it out what you are doing. Matt chose Meet Patron, so we will continue to play but his dialogue will emphasize on this relation building. Make sense how we'll handle this?

Rorin, we'll go ahead with your making of the helm in Mountain Hall, while you help with the goblins. The helm is part of the story so you will be successful, but you can use an undertaking to gain some benefits for you or the helm. I am looking at generating one, but I need to wait until tomorrow to do it...very tired.

[GandalfOfBorg]

  Undertaking: Meet Patron

Now that Grimbeorn was seen out in the markets and around town, merchants came calling to talk with him regarding the roads over the Misty Mountains, the roads north, his father's lands, and the roads and prospects in the east with the Woodland Realm, Esgaroth, Dale, and beyond.  Though the people with whom he spoke varied, Grimbeorn found himself repeating himself over the same topics.  "No wonder Father kept to himself for all those years," he thought.  The days wore on like this until a knock came to his door from an emissary of the chieftain of Mountain Hall, requesting, as formally as this folk would muster for a Beorning, that he attend a meeting in the great hall.  Eager to get the meeting over with as he had been worn down by the repeated interruptions by the townsfolk, Grimbeorn gathered himself and headed to the hall.

The hall here was not unlike other halls of great import he'd seen or heard of but that this one was most notably hewn of stone instead of the wooden halls of the other Woodmen clans or of his folk save the Munderic's Tomb as it is called, a cave that Munderic of the Mountains had crafted into a serviceable stronghold north of Eagle's Eyrie.  A couple of large fires on either side of the hall warmed with a number of oil braziers for light, even though there were window slits that faced the rising sun on the east side and those that caught the daytime sun on the south.  When he was introduced, Hartfast's face belied his, shall we say, misgivings about entertaining a Beorning, even though he was the son of Beorn himself.

"I see you've healed well from your recent battles, Grimbeorn," said Hartfast managing a look of genuine concern. "Your father would be proud that you stood down three trolls and lived to tell the tale.  Be sure to have your halfling friend there tell the tale though, I've heard quite a few tall ones come have from him."

"Yes, I am fit enough again to travel and fight if need be.  Bandy has been known to entertain during a meal or two if he hasn't eaten them both.  But you didn't ask me here about my condition or the stories that have been floating about town, have you?"  queried Grimbeorn.

"Right to point, are we?  Good.  At least your time with the foreigners haven't dulled your sensibilities too much.  Sit, we'll have food brought and drink, and we can talk of roads, far off lands, and *ahem* tolls."

Long into the day the two talked of all the same things that Grimbeorn had discussed with the others.  Yes, there are tolls for travelling the Old Forest Road from the forest to the High Pass.  No, the goblins that were at the High Gate a few years ago haven't returned (yet). Yes, our clans can help provide guides over the mountains for a fee, of course.  Yes, there is a toll to use the bridge at the Old Ford because its maintenance doesn't come cheap especially after the spring floods.   No, he can't provide discounts for tolls as Beorn has set those. Yes, both sides of the bridge of the Old Ford both have martketplaces that are open all year except for Yule-tide.

Finally, the Hartfast was satisfied or maybe it he was drowsy from his draught and the three chickens he ate.  Grimbeorn gave his leave at least saying his peace and not further instigating any ill-will between the peoples -- a good day.

[Telcontar]

I like the idea of the undertaking for the Goblins issue and making the helm here. Then we can travel with it done when we go.

[disench4nted]

 

Yeah, I like the idea of making the helm here and transporting it back when we're done. That saves me some time and also keeps me from having to travel with the raw materials. For the undertaking, you saw my intention, and I'll wait for you (no hurry) before picking it. I think RPing the goblins would be fun.

[GandalfOfBorg]

  sounds good to me.

[Eclecticon]

I think it's best to do a training montage as a Fellowship phase, though I'm certainly not averse to starting the adventure off with a goblin attack. 

Forging the helm here probably puts us ahead of schedule as far as getting it to Ceawin is concerned.  That makes it easier to justify a side trip, right?

[Eclecticon]

Okay, here I go helping to prepare for battle with the goblins. 

DC 14 Battle 3

1d12 : 5, total 5
Rolled 3d6 : 5, 2, 6, total 13

[Eclecticon]

Nice!  Looks like Arbogast is finally coming into his own as a sword-day counsellor. 

Rolling on the table:

Rolled 1d12+2 : 6 + 2, total 8

[Eclecticon]

The vale of Mountain Hall echoes with the ringing of iron on iron.  Alone in a soot-darkened forge, Rorin smites and shapes the steel that will become the helm so desired of Caewin.  Without, the Men of Mountain Hall practice their weapon-craft, trading blows of axe and spear on shields.  Before the Great House, Hartfast holds counsel with Grimbeorn and Arbogast. 

"It must be so," the younger Woodman says.  "The goblins, when they come, will be many.  And though our kinsmen will fight hard for their homes, they are few, and they will mislike battle in the dark and cramped tunnels.  Had we but a score of Dwarves of Erebor, I would counsel otherwise, but we have one only, and though he be valorous after the way of his folk, he is not alone enough to turn the tide." 

Hartfast frowns, but nods.  "It is to be battle upon the surface then.  Where the enemy might set fire to our homes." 

"There will be no fire, of that I am certain.  The goblins who tunnel beneath your minds are a craven kind who hate the light as much as they hate those who dwell in it.  They will carry no torches with them when they break through." 

"And you counsel deception?"

"I do, at least at first.  They must think that they have taken your folk by surprise.  Have a few men - brave, and fleet of foot! - in the mines.  When the goblins break through, they must fight until the goblins' numbers begin to wax and then flee.  And yet they must not flee too quickly!  If they escape their pursuers, the goblins will slink back to their lairs to gather a greater force, and the invasion will be so much the harder to defeat.  Our hope lies in drawing the enemy forward to where the field is more suited to the warfare of Men." 

"In the open." 

"Indeed.  Let us hope that fortune smiles upon us, and the invasion comes in the daylight!  But a watch must be posted on the mines at all hours against the possibility that it may not.  When the sentries in the mines flee past them, those waiting outside must press the goblins hard.  In the confusion of bright light and battle, their spirit will be broken and they will come to understand that Mountain Hall and its people will not be readily defeated." 

Hartfast looks to Grimbeorn. 

"What say you?"

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Hmm my experience with the goblins of these mountains has come from their raiding parties much further north.  But as they are tunneling through, what about creating some traps?  You must have some sort of stone-cunning that may aid these people.  Or what happened to the thoughts of flooding the tunnels?  Or is there some way where they might be encouraged to tunnel out to a certain location where they may be surprised?"

 

Battle -  1d12 : 8, total 8
Rolled 3d6 : 2, 5, 6, total 13

[Eclecticon]

To this, Arbogast can only shrug.  "Men are at work as we speak, but I cannot attest to the details."

[Eclecticon]

It is evening in the Great House when Arbogast next sees Theodwin.  "Fire-watcher, your axe is blunt," the red-haired falconer says. 

"It is?"  Arbogast responds with a quizzical look. 

"Indeed.  Your wandering life leaves you little time to care for the tools on which you rely, I fear." 

Arbogast opens his mouth to retort, but is interrupted.  "Please, kinsman, do not take my words harshly.  I have seen how you and your friends have laboured to safeguard our mines, and I am loath to draw you from such a task.  Please, allow me to sharpen it for you." 

Eyebrow still raised, Arbogast replies "My axe is in the house of Beran the Doorwarden.  I am in no small wise surprised that you have even seen it." 

Theodwin dismisses the comment with a wave.  "We are few, here in the mountains.  All men speak to all others, as the days pass on." 

A shrug comes from Arbogast in response.  "Then I thank you for your pains on my behalf, though they have yet to come to pass, and commend you to your task, self-appointed though it be.  A sharp axe will serve me well when the time comes to leave this place." 

"So I would think!  And yet, an axe so misused as yours has been may take many days to bring right.  Perhaps in the meantime you would accept mine in exchange?" 

Arbogast nods, somewhat hesitantly, and Theodwin smiles and withdraws. 

The Fire-watcher soon finds that he has no more stomach for meat and ale, and is drawn by ever-growing curiosity to the house of Beran.  There he finds the Doorwarden waiting. 

"Ah, yes, I was given to wonder when you would appear.  You'll be wanting this, I warrant!"  The old man hands over a heavy bundle wrapped in deer-hide.  "So many gifts to give out in these recent days!  Though my hall be a small one, and my warriors be strange folk, yet well can I fathom why men might seek to be lords, that all might marvel at their generosity!" 

As the old man laughs to himself, Arbogast unwraps the bundle to find a well-polished axe, long-hafted and long-bearded.  On its head are graven knotwork and runes that in the firelight are a wonder to behold. 

Unheeded by Beran, Arbogast whispers to himself: "This is a fine and beautiful thing." 



Alright, I'm done.  Enough spotlight hogging from me.