Captives!

[tomcat]

The wrath of the Dwarf was something to behold. His hammer arched left and then right, sweeping into one and then the other orc that remained in the fight. Arbogast watched as his attacker suddenly stiffened and then fell dead, leaving only the heavy-breathing Rorin in front of him, his weapon covered in black blood.

And it was done.

Only four men from the raiders were left and they knew death was nigh, and so as a group quickly dropped their arms. These men were far from home and their only chance now was to plead for a life that was surely forfeit.

Geirbald and his folk stood about and looked to the companions. What would they do now with captives?

[Telcontar]

Even from a distance the Hobbit could tell that the fight had gone out of the raiders and that the battle was over. He drew his blade and motioning to the other archers started to move forward. He was not planning on being caught flat footed if one of the raiders still lived or was hidden in the winter grass so his blade was out and glinted in the raising winter sun.
Moving swiftly he made his way to the party.

"Rorin, how do you fair?"

Stepping over the dead he eyed the living captives.

[disench4nted]

After felling the two remaining orcs Rorin turned to face the remaining raiders, grasping his hammer and all but daring them to make a move. But after a few moments the rush of battle had left him and he began to feel the throbbing pain in his chest.

"Thank you Bandy, I will be fine, though I am glad your arrows flew true once more...I had not the strength to fight for too much longer."

The Dwarf sat down heavily on a nearby rock and tried to breath a deep sigh of relief but instead winced as he was stopped short by a piercing pain in his ribs. Luckily, his armor looked no worse for the wear and he had avoided any real injury, but Rorin knew he would be feeling the consequences of this fight for the next several days on the road.

[Telcontar]

Bandy stood by his friend pointing his sword at the men.

"What are your names, and why should we spare men who keep the company of Yrchs?"

For emphasis the blade slipped into the body of a dead orc making sure that the creature was truly dead and as emphasis to his questions.

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast moves to Rorin's side as the Dwarf sits heavily.  He feels his friend's side, satisfying himself that there is no pain that will not soon heal.  

As he does so, he listens to Bandy questioning the captives.  Our life has been hard, to change a gentle Hobbit so, he thinks.

[Eclecticon]

Nota bene, since nobody's Wounded, we all recover Endurance points equal to our Heart ratings. 

[Telcontar]

OOC:

As he does so, he listens to Bandy questioning the captives.  Our life has been hard, to change a gentle Hobbit so, he thinks.

Yeah, things are getting a little less Baggins and a little more Brandybuck. The Northfarthing doesnt screw around like those potato farmers in Hobbiton.

[Telcontar]

Bandy stared at the two men, certain that they understood him, but uncertain if it was his appearance or the end of the battle that shocked them.

He pointed his bright blade at one of them, the left.
 
"We know you come from the south, for folk there are known to traffic and keep the company of Orcs. Let me start with an easy question for you before my great friend here tears your limbs apart as is the custom of the Bear folk, what is your name?"

[GandalfOfBorg]

  Sure I'll play along...
 

Awe -  1d12 : 12, total 12
Rolled 3d6 : 1, 6, 3, total 10

[GandalfOfBorg]

It is with beyond a doubt that Grimbeorn looks not only able to remove limbs from their sockets, but willing as well, as can be seen in just his eyes still burning with fire of battle.

[Eclecticon]

His ministrations to Rorin proving unnecessary, Arbogast joins Bandy and Grimbeorn.  He says nothing, but crouches near the captives and fixes them with an unyielding stare.  

[tomcat]

With a clicking sound, due to the drying of his mouth, one of the raiders speaks. "I am Kendel." Pointing to the only other hail man in his company, "He is Perth. The two wounded are Angh and Trent."

If there was any defiance left in their eyes, it quickly diminished when Grimbeorn took up a place by the small Hobbit.

[Telcontar]

"Well now, that's a start. The woodfolk and their friends are none to fond of highwaymen and robbers, especially those we find with orcs. Where do you come from and why are you here?"

[Eclecticon]

The men's silence is broken by Arbogast, who says "they are from the Toft, or thereabouts.  And they are here because their chieftain would be king of us all, and has sent them to test our defences." 

His gaze never leaves the captives.  "Is this not so?"

[tomcat]

The one named Kendel, who looked older than his companions and was seemingly braver, stood resolute. "We serve our King, Vidugalum, Lord of the Toft! He is the true master of of the vale and Rhovanion. Many times he has dispatched folk to collect tribute and many times has his people been sent away empty-handed. No more! The clansmen of the vale must conform under his law, as he is the true king. He carries the blood of Númenor and it is his birthright. We are the Blood Moon and we heed his command. If tribute will not be paid, than we are the answer."
I'd like all PC's to give me a Lore test TN 16 to know anything about the Toft and Vidugalum. I am sure we all have access to the Heart of the Wild, but to keep things from being too Meta-gamey, let's roll. Any PC that is not from the Vale must make the test at TN 18.

Don't get me wrong, I love your writing and hearing Bandy spout words from the Elves of the First Age, but I also want to maintain some logic that he is a Hobbit from the Shire. Granted, he is a Loremaster, but let's put somethings in perspective as to the Lore he knows. If we look at ancient history, or even semi-current history, people didn't travel much further than maybe a couple dozen miles from their homes and generations were born and died in the same place. So, although the Toft might be a settlement that is known to Arbogast, or Grimbeorn, its people and politics might not be.

Then again, maybe they are and that will come from the results of your rolls. It will be an escalation of knowledge, too:

On a Success: The Toft is known. It is one of the largest towns in Wilderland. It is ruled by a learned man named Vidugalum. It is enclosed within earthen ramparts and wooden walls. Some say it is an evil place, while others know of it as a good place to stop for supplies and rest while traveling.

On a Great Success: The Toft is known. It is one of the largest towns in Wilderland. Several hundred souls live within its earthen ramparts and wooden walls. Most of the buildings in the Toft are wooden, though a few are old stonework built by men of Gondor. Just outside the town is a large market field that is little used, for traders from the south no longer come here in great numbers. Merchants from Rhovanion and Lake-Town sometimes make the trek around the southern edge of Mirkwood to visit here, and a few ill-favoured Woodmen bring carved goods and furs to market here in summer.

The folk of the Toft are of Northman stock, although they are mixed with Easterling blood. They are a sedentary people, living in their village and farming the land. The shadow of Dol Guldur lay over them for many generations, and they were inevitably changed by it.

There is an Inn here, the Ram's Head. It is ruled by a learned man named Vidugalum.  His men, who bear the symbol of a red moon on their shields, patrol the roads around the Toft. Some say it is an evil place, while others know of it as a good place to stop for supplies and rest while traveling.

On an Extraordinary Success: The Toft is known. It is one of the largest towns in Wilderland. Several hundred souls live within its earthen ramparts and wooden walls. Most of the buildings in the Toft are wooden, though a few are old stonework built by men of Gondor. Just outside the town is a large market field that is little used, for traders from the south no longer come here in great numbers. Merchants from Rhovanion and Lake-Town sometimes make the trek around the southern edge of Mirkwood to visit here, and a few ill-favoured Woodmen bring carved goods and furs to market here in summer. There is an Inn here, the Ram's Head. It is ruled by a learned man named Vidugalum.  His men, who bear the symbol of a red moon on their shields, patrol the roads around the Toft.

The folk of the Toft are of Northman stock, although they are mixed with Easterling blood. They are a sedentary people, living in their village and farming the land. The shadow of Dol Guldur lay over them for many generations, and they were inevitably changed by it. Those closest to Dol Guldur were wholly committed to the service of the Necromancer. They sent their sons and daughters to serve him as slaves, they freely gave tribute to him, and they worshipped him with vile and terrible ceremonies in the dead of night. Others gave tribute only grudgingly. They
tried to forget Dol Guldur as they went about their lives. For them, tribute was a necessary evil, and life in the Necromancer's realm was like living beside a snow-laden mountain. One day, the mountain must inevitably stir and the avalanche would then kill them all.

Some say it is an evil place, while others know of it as a good place to stop for supplies and rest while traveling. Those that speak evil say that in years past, certain people in this town worshiped the Necromancer of Dol Guldur, and offered him slaves and sacrifices as gifts to curry favour. Travellers claim that children went missing in the Toft with alarming frequency, and that there are secret tunnels and cellars beneath the rough wooden houses. The defeat of the Necromancer put an end to these practises, but they may begin again should the Shadow return to Dol Guldur.

Vidugalum commands the loyalty of dozens of men (as well as a brigade of Orcs that fled Dol Guldur) and has a wealthy and well-defended fort in the heart of the region. He considers questions of
'good' and 'evil' to be the mewlings of cowards and weak men who let their consciences cow them into inaction. Heroes, in Vidugalum's eyes, are those brave enough to overcome their doubts and fears. He uses his Orcs to strike at his enemies not because he is a tyrant, but because it is necessary for progress and civilisation.