The Dead Rest

[Telcontar]

  that's gonna leave a mark.

[tomcat]

Though wounded and weary, Arbogast never achieved a Miserable status and so he does not attain anymore Shadow points.

Nice rolls for the fever - that was kind of close!  I updated his PC sheet for the END recovery. 

Arbogast will suffer the fever for five nights due to his rolls - he could have chased it off earlier, but the dice didn't fall that way. I am going to give the other PC's an option to RP (or at least give narrative) as to how their PC spent the time.

Yes, it's interesting seeing a less idealistic side of Bandy!

Yea - it's cool! I think of it as the Shadow wedging itself into the fabric of the company. Even if the treasure is fairly yours, the fractures it is creating could be signs of the invasive corrupting influence.

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn is more scowly than usual due to the friction between his comrades. He understood both sides of the argument but it wasn't one that he cared much for.  The shield he found in the troll cave was recovered in a different situation and glad for it.  Reclaiming things from the mound was different somehow.  "I have no desire to desecrate the mound but it also has been tainted by the Shadow's evil.  I do not seek to despoil it but those whose ancestors resided there have more of a claim on what to do with anything recovered from those mounds.  This is a matter of the master of Sunstead to resolve not us."

[Telcontar]

"Yes, a Lord well known for his wisdom. Very well then, the sooner we leave Sunstead the better."

[Eclecticon]

Can we assume, for the sake of narrative momentum, that Rorin's response is equivocal? 

Likewise, Arbogast has opinions on the subject but is in no shape to express them.

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Well is there any more to our stay here?  If not, we should leave," offered the Beorning.

[tomcat]

The date is September 25th, 2951 T.A, when Arbogast awakes from his nightmarish fever. It will be another five days before he is himself and able to be up and active again - so game date as of this post is September 30th, 2951 T.A.

The days passed for the companions, as Arbogast returned to health. It had been close, but the Fire-watcher was a strong man and had hopes upon which he clung. Yet, neither Idunn nor the women within the House of Healing forgot his strange words that foretold of a greater doom.

With September closing, the company was at last able to travel once more. They were far from home and that path was dark, but the choice needed to be made. The folk of Sunstead were busy with their harvesting, wanting to make sure the fields and crops were secured before the coming of winter. Thus, the Company found little interest from the town when they spoke of gathering a group to cross back over the Narrows.

Ceawin was grateful and lauded them with praise and gifts, but he made no offer to assist the companions in their trip home. When Grimbeorn and Esgalwen went to his hall to ask for aid in the journey, he answered. "It is the harvest and all hands are needed," said the Master of Sunstead. "But certainly, with the Spring, you will find folk that will make the journey. Perhaps you could stay with us until then?"

Esgalwen spoke up, "Master Ceawin, surely you can afford us a few extra swords to make our way back across the forest? It was we who offered our services to you, and by so doing, you have less fear along your southern borders where the old barrows lie."

The man looked back at Esgalwen and his face darkened with rage, "Did you not hear me, woman?! It is not a good time for me to send any of my people away. Winter will be upon us soon and all my folk will remain safe within the walls of our town. I offer you that safety, too! Pray I do not rescind my courtesies."

"Master Ceawin, I speak for my Lord Ecthelion of Gondor, as ambassador to the people of Mirkwood. Gracious are the offerings made, but forget not that these folk that came to help you also have families to which they would return. I ask you to please reconsider, as such things strengthen the bonds between people."

In a haughty tone, Ceawin looked at Esgalwen, "Then perhaps, lady, you might seek the patronage of the Lord of Gondor. Here Ceawin is master, and his word is final." Beside the man, upon a wooden stand that had been ornately sculpted and painted, sitting upon a pillow, the Helm of Peace gleamed with a fire of its own. The Master of Sunstead's hand came to rest atop it where his fingers softly drummed.

The Dúnadan looked to Grimbeorn and words unspoken passed between them. They left the hall and wandered off to find her friends, but even in the company there was contention. Were they all cursed by their entry into the shadowed hills?

[tomcat]

I need to ask you guys if you will decide to stay in Sunstead until the Spring. If so, then we will do a Fellowship Phase.

If not, we will roll for another journey.

I updated Arbogast's PC sheet for the additional rest and END recovery. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn cannot contain his anger anymore when he and Esgalwen return to their comrades.  "Ceawin is a fool!  He keeps that crown as if it were a prize he won or precious bauble he can't bear to part with... bah!  And his 'offer' to keep us here -- as if we were courtiers hanging off his every word and were to do his bidding.  Do I look like a simpering, sniveling rat content with the scraps that fall from his generous table?!  Let us shake the dust of this place off our boots and return to our homes, where we belong."

[Telcontar]

Bandy responded with a hearty, "Here, here!" After Grimbeorn had spoken.

"I have spent some time now in Sunstead and think that I have finally placed my finger on what it is that bothers me about this place. Well the Lord not withstanding anyway. The town is vibrant and colorful, with many people coming and going and lots of items for sale or trade. However, like a fair that comes to your town the color and pageantry are not permanent. Sunstead has a temporary feel to it that I have not felt in the towns of the Woodmen. Perhaps I have spent too much time among them and the feel of the woods is growing comfortable, but I do not have the same sense of enduring here that I did west of the wood. The barrows belong here, evil or neutral, they are part of this place, but the town of Sunstead? No, that feels temporary to me. Like a phantom image haunting the waving heat trails of a hilltop in high summer."

The Hobbit tapped the small barrel of ale that the companions kept in the common space of their rooms and began to pour pints for the group. He poured them out, set them aside for the heads to settle, and then passed them under the tap again to fill them with just the right amount of head.

"I have been outspoken about my views and my opinions about Sunstead and it's lord since we left Rhosgobel and though I will not rehash or begrudge us coming here as the deed needed to be done, but I dont see any value in us remaining here over the winter. Abrogast I am sure would like to return to the Black Tarn and if the group is to decide that way then I will gladly go. However, instead of passing through the forest again, though the journey maybe longer it may be safer if we were to head north. I much desire to see the Elves of Mirkwood and see what wisdom they can impart about the ghostly troubles we have seen here in the south. I do not know how far the journey is, but outside of the woods it may be safer, I will leave the decision to the group saying only that I do not wish to remain here any longer then the recovery of Abrogast requires."

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast nods thoughtfully.  "I understand your desire to seek the elves' counsel, my friend, but I fear it must wait until another time.  The weather has already turned towards winter.  And though Idunn's song is miraculous in its effect, my injury was grievous and it may be some time before my strength returns in full." 

"I have suffered and bled for this errand, as have each of us.  It has been long and hard, and now it is over.  Let us go home." 

[Eclecticon]

Shortly after the companions hold their conclave, Arbogast presents himself before Caewin at the Great Hall. 

"Caewin, Lord of the Sunstead, I come on behalf of the Fellowship of the Helm to give thanks to you for your hospitality these past weeks, and to beg your leave to depart for our homes.  However, before we take our leave, I would advise you.  My friends and I doubted the wisdom of your self-imposed task, yet we kept these doubts to ourselves to avoid giving offence.  We did not see it as our place to question one in your position.  I have since come to realise that silently suborning our judgement to yours was a betrayal, not a service." 

"But by our blood in the darkness, I believe we have bought the right to speak freely, on this matter at least.  My counsel, if you would hear it, is this: the Helm of Peace that you prize is a rare and beautiful thing, created with the best of intentions by a worthy craftsman of his people.  It has not laid long in the hands of the Enemy, and no curse attaches itself to it.  Yet I have seen the light in your eye when you look upon it.  The Shadow works its way into each of our hearts, in time.  The Helm, I believe, is its way into yours."

"Trust to the hearts of our people over bright treasures, for the friendship you sought these years ago has been freely given, but we both have seen the contempt in which the Enemy's servants hold the works of Men.  Give the Helm away.  Melt it down for its metals.  Cast it into the River Running and let the swift waters carry it far from here, but do not keep it.  My Lord, do not keep it." 



Now, let's see how this works out.  I don't know what the TN for this is, though it's likely to be pretty high. 

Persuade roll:

1d12 : 7, total 7
Rolled 3d6 : 5, 3, 4, total 12

[disench4nted]

Rorin could see the Lord of Sunstead tense and begin to tremble with suppressed rage as Arbogast spoke of abandoning the Helm. When the woodsman had finished, Rorin stepped forward and spoke.

"Lord Caewin, my companion speaks true. Long have Dwarves mined the riches of the earth and crafted fine works of silver and gold, and long have Dwarves fallen to the gold-lust. Our long history is filled with stories of great kings and leaders succumbing to this sickness, it is our weakness and I would not wish it upon anyone. Hear me when I tell you that you are falling under the influence of the Shadow even as we speak, the rage and fear that you are feeling will be your undoing as it has been the undoing of my kind since the dawn of time.

This helm that I have crafted was never meant to be the focus of your greed, it is meant to help bring peace and prosperity to the people of Mirkwood. As it's creator I must insist that you heed the advice of Arbogast, he is wise beyond his years and will not lead you astray. I will gladly return my commission for the Helm if you would hand it back over to me, but failing that, I would ask that you melt it down and donate the gold to a worthy cause. But my Lord, do not keep this thing."

 

I'd like to roll an Inspire here instead of a persuade. My thinking is that Caewin is currently fighting an inner battle against the forces that are instilling fear and anger in him and Rorin is trying to inspire the real Caewin to fight back against this temptation as opposed to persuading someone who is of sound mind, what do you think?

[tomcat]

Steve, your Inspire idea is a good one and I apologize that I did not reply in kind sooner, so that you could roll and we'd have a result to work with. So, what I am going to do is roll it for you at this time and then do my narrative based on how the dice fall.

Rorin Inspire check 2d

1d12 : 11, total 11
Rolled 2d6 : 6, 3, total 9

Lastly, guys - I am going to take a solid look, over the next two days, at the rules that I was wondering how to work into PbP and come up with some ideas to bounce off of you all (i.e. fellowship, fellowship focus, etc.). Send me a PM for any rule mechanic that we have not used that should be, and I will work on those, too.

[tomcat]

Yikes! A freaking
The companions followed behind, as Arbogast and Rorin entered the hall of Ceawin. They stood on the periphery of the crowd, watching to see if their friends could make any impact in the thane's mindset.

Arbogast started, speaking passionately about the strength of men and the bonds that should be held tighter upon than any treasure of gold. Ceawin was courteous as he listened and the Fire-watcher was almost certain that he saw a pleading look cross the man's face, as if to say help me. But then the look disappeared. The master of the hall never rose in anger, in the manner he had done when Esgalwen had come to speak to him. He quietly listened to Arbogast's attempts to persuade him to let the helmet go.

When he had finished, Rorin followed picking up on the same thread. The dwarf's tactic was different though and he spoke inspirationally of his kin's great works, but also how these same works had lain some dwarves low. Even as he spoke, Rorin could see his words were falling on deaf ears. The courtesy that Ceawin had shown Arbogast was gone and the master of the house exhibited now only patience - patience to allow the dwarf to finish his words.

"Yes, well..." said Ceawin after Rorin was done. "Certainly the success and wealth of your folk, Master Dwarf, is proof alone that sometimes treasures are just that...treasures. No, keep your commission and I will keep my helm. It is, as I have stated, to be a token of my house for as long as it stands. When the last of my kin are at last laid to rest, let them be placed within our family tomb with the helm proudly adorned.

"Fear not, Master Arbogast, the Helm is not a foul token to despoil me or my house. I believe it to be the very marker of our breaking of the Shadow and forcing it from our lands. Of course you all have my leave to make your road, but I would advise against it. The weather is fast turning against us, and though we may have yet a few more good days, I would hate to see it foul your course.

"Come forth... all of you," he said, gesturing for the rest of the companions to approach his dais. "As Arbogast has noted, it was by blood that you all have earned the right to speak, but also the benefits of my house. Thus I decree to you all, a parcel of land for each of you to own. Stay with us here and make Sunstead your home. Let this be your holding and mayhaps where you settle to start a business or farm. What say you all?" A genuine smile was on the man's face.

"Lord, as you know from our last speaking, I have been given the honoured duty to carry the message of my Lord Ecthelion to these lands. Thus I cannot make any location within Mirkwood a permanent home, but it would be greatly appreciated to have your patronage whenever I return to your lands."

Ceawin nodded, "It is given, but I cannot let you leave empty-handed, Lady Esgalwen of Ithilien. I redress the harsh words that were exchanged in our previous counsel and I give unto you this sack of coin. May it aid you in your journeys." The man then looked to the rest, "What say you all? Is Sunstead a worthwhile option to make your home? If not, then I bestow upon you all my patronage and this treasure."
Let me know if you guys decide to take the land option -or- the treasure reward.