The Long Road - friends new and old

[tomcat]

This is going to be a 3-leg journey, which we will roll mechanically for each leg and then narrate/dialogue out those results.

Leg One  will start at the Elf camp and travel north, crossing the Dusky River as it comes out of the Haunted Hill, to the Old Forest Road.

Distance = 60 miles (20 leagues)

Terrain = Daunting x3

Speed (on foot) = 20 miles per day

TOTAL = 9 days with 3 Fatigue tests; may roll Lore test TN 14 for advantage dice

[tomcat]

Advantage dice

• Arbogast invokes his Region Lore (Mirkwood) for 1 advantage dice
• Morirúsë will not make a lore test

TN 14 lore by PC

Esgalwen 1d 1d12 : 3, total 3
Rolled 1d6 : 6, total 6

Grimbeorn 2d 1d12 : 11, total 11
Rolled 2d6 : 4, 2, total 6

[tomcat]

Fatigue tests

Arbogast
TN 18 travel 3d

1d12 : 8, total 8
Rolled 3d6 : 1, 6, 5, total 12

1d12 : 9, total 9
Rolled 3d6 : 6, 1, 6, total 13

1d12 : 1, total 1
Rolled 3d6 : 1, 2, 4, total 7

Esgalwen
TN 18 travel 3d

1d12 : 2, total 2
Rolled 3d6 : 4, 4, 6, total 14

1d12 : 1, total 1
Rolled 3d6 : 4, 4, 2, total 10

1d12 : 5, total 5
Rolled 3d6 : 2, 5, 2, total 9

Grimbeorn
TN 18 travel 4d

1d12 : 4, total 4
Rolled 4d6 : 1, 3, 5, 4, total 13

1d12 : 10, total 10
Rolled 4d6 : 3, 3, 3, 2, total 11

1d12 : 8, total 8
Rolled 4d6 : 5, 2, 3, 6, total 16

Morirúsë [WEARY]
TN 18 travel 3d

1d12 : 11, total 11
Rolled 3d6 : 6, 6, 3, total 15

1d12 : 10, total 10
Rolled 3d6 : 3, 6, 5, total 14

1d12 : 1, total 1
Rolled 3d6 : 4, 2, 5, total 11

[tomcat]

RESULTS

• Arbogast fails 1 test and gains 3 Fatigue points
• Esgalwen fails 3 tests and gains 9 Fatigue points
• Grimbeorn fails 1 test and gains 3 Fatigue points
• Morirúsë fails 2 tests and gains 6 Fatigue points; he also rolled an hazard

This is 9 days of travel - I am rolling the Feat die to determine how many good rests you guys get in your encampments. The result x2 will be the number of restored from resting. An means 0, and a means all have been recovered.

Rolled 1d12 : 11, total 11

[tomcat]

Damn!!  

• Morirúsë still has only 12 after the trek, and is WEARY

I still have to determine the Hazard...more to come.

[Telcontar]

  morgoth blasted, ungoliant breeding ground of filth, dirty ugly woods!!!!! Stupid Second Born and their betrayal of Maedhros led to this!

[GandalfOfBorg]

  it would be best not to trip over every damned root in the forest.  And there you go again! 

[tomcat]

Hazard episode

Determining Role...

Rolled 1d12 : 11, total 11

Determining hazard if challenge not successful

Rolled 1d12 : 12, total 12

[Telcontar]

  Morirúsë is fated to be redeemed or destroyed, not sure which, but good fortune does not follow the house of Feanor.

[tomcat]

Damn... well the on the one test means Role is not covered, which defines as:

The LM chooses the worst option for the players: The character with the lowest skill in his role, bearing in mind that a Weary character can be worse (even with higher skill) than a lower skilled one.

The rune on the other roll means I need to roll again...

SO - I am choosing Morirúsë for the role and the skill test is: Awareness TN 18

TN 18 Awareness 4d [WEARY]

1d12 : 12, total 12
Rolled 4d6 : 3, 3, 2, 1, total 9

Second, here is the hasard type reroll:

Rolled 1d12 : 4, total 4

[tomcat]

And he pulls out a !!! Auto-success!

That was awesome.

[Telcontar]

   how about some redeeming LM narrative.

[tomcat]

Stagnant air; sweltering late summer, early autumn heat; and flies that buzzed and bit unmercifully.

The Company could not rest and so their legs and arms grew weak. Straps of armor, weapons, and packs dug deep into the flesh and made the skin raw, which in turn attracted the flies to the wet, sometimes bleeding, exposed skin.

Roots hitched up at unexpected moments and snagged a foot, causing a companion to tumble painfully to the forest floor. Pricker bushes grew dense and barred their path. All the while, Mirkwood broodingly watched them.

It was an estimated twenty leagues from the Elf-camp to the Old Forest road - a daunting journey in normal conditions, but made worse by the efforts of the forest. Like a giant living monster, the companions felt as if they were in its maw and the creature's goal was to consume them. They all knew that that would be the result if they did not keep moving.

Along with the pall of the forest came the heroes own misgivings. Esgalwen was a confident Ranger of Ithilien and she knew how to place her location based on the sun and stars, but they were hidden most days and nights and often she fretted their course. Arbogast worried the day when the sun began to set and the need to find a defensible location to rest; and Grimbeorn hummed and hawed over the food-stuffs.

The berries and fruits that grew wild were dangerous within Mirkwood, along with leaf and mushroom. The Beorning spent a great deal of time examining the growth to see if it should be consumed. The hunting was even harder - it was as if this area of Mirkwood had been stripped of all favorable game. To each of them came the memories of the spiders, and they knew that it was within this heart of the wood where they resided.

Only Morirúsë, even though weary, remained ever vigilant to his task and kept the company alerted to threats. Thus it was that they were able to divert their course around a large, brown bear and its cubs, as well as, a pack of boars that were rooting for food.

Days passed by and miles moved slowly under foot. Their packs diminished of the food stuffs they had taken from the Elf-camp, and waterskins dried. Hunger and weariness pervaded their attitudes and harsh words were spoken. The words raised tempers and there were times when it seemed the company would separate from one another...but in their hearts, they knew that choice to be death, and so they bit their lips and swallowed the anger.

"Will this damnable forest ever part and reveal the road?" asked Esgalwen in a voice that broke the silence of the forest. In truth it was not silent, but the clicks and buzzes of the wood were so ever-present that any other sound disrupted the moment.

It was not like the path they had taken in the north from Thranduil's realm. Though dangerous, the forest there was cooler and the trees were a combination of fir and hardwood. Needles and pine cones lay under foot, not twisted and knotted roots that vied for space in the earth to spread out. Nor was it like the pleasant eaves that were home to the Men of the Vale - with groomed paths and trails, roads and warrens. This path reminded three of those that marched along like that of the southern wood where lay Dol Guldur.

A new day and rain fell from above, though only small droplets made it through the canopy. Still, the air thickened and everything became damp. Grimbeorn's thick mane of hair lay sodden and flat to his scalp and beads of water dripped from the tips. As they walked, a putrid smell of death and rot began to permeate the air. Caution took them all and they slowed their movement, only advancing in small distances as they watched and listened.

Nothing came. Nothing was heard.

And then at last, the terrible smell was revealed. Hanging from branches above, bundled in white silk, the bodies of dead and desiccated deer slowly twisted and turned on the ropes of web. Grimbeorn calculated they had been dead for days and that it had to have been a small herd of the animals. The spiders were still very active in the forest, despite their losses at the beginning of the year.

The companions moved quickly on from the place.

More days passed.

It was getting to the point where no one would speak to the other. Nerves were as raw as their flesh. And then a new sound was heard - rushing water! The company raced forward towards the sound and the forest opened, of a sudden, into what looked to be a cave made of leaves and wood. In between the natural cavern, the Dusky River moved rapidly along. They all breathed a sigh of relief, for they had made it north to where the river began.

Now they only need cross it...

[Telcontar]

Morirúsë rejoiced when he saw the light and water. The sound of the messenger of Ulmo stirred his heart even in his weariness and he called out to the light and the water. As he did so the lamps he had cursed and fiddled with over nine days came suddenly on and bathed the companions in their wholsome light.

Esgalwen laughed a little, "Morirúsë, you have mastered the lamps at last!"

The elf shook his head with a wane smile, "water and light, was the answer, not root branch or stars as I had guessed." Having mastered the means of turning the lamps on he quickly doused them. Then taking a moment in quiet reflection he listened to the music of the river.

[tomcat]

The water stretched before them, disappearing into the woods in both directions. It was a wide river, and it was fast - even here where it started its rush to the Tarn in the south.

The thought of the Black Tarn flooded Arbogast with emotions of longing and sadness. Once more he moved further away from those he loved, instead of back home.

The Noldo was pleased by the sight of the water, but he also knew the might of Ulmo - this would be no easy crossing.