The Cold Wells

[Eclecticon]

... which it is. 

[tomcat]

That is a success, and so she will be out of it for 4 rounds.

I will still allow the Awe roll, if someone wants to make it, but it will only affect the situation on a great or extraordinary success. No more Healing test options are allowed, as that method has been used.

She stood on a balcony that overlooked the lower two rings of the white city, Minas Tirith. Sunlight dappled across the many tiled roofs below, and sparkled off the spears of the city guard that stood the walls.

Her grandfather had passed and the family had just returned from the Tombs - where the remains of generations of Gondorians lay. His name was Elrohir and Esgalwen thought of him fondly. It was he that told her of their history back to the days of Númenór and how they were heir to the Blood of the Faithful - Númenóreans who settled in Ithilien beside their lord, Anárion. They resided in that fair land until 2460 T.A. when the Watchful Peace ended with the coming raids of Uruk-hai and the Haradrim. Soon after, they retreated from Osgiliath, as well, to the white city - Minas Anor, now called Minas Tirith.

Tears fell as she remembered the stories and the happy times she spent with her grandfather, and grandmother who had passed a number of years prior. She stared east, across the Pellenor, to where the distant ruin of Osgiliath could be seen sitting abreast the long ribbon of the Anduin. She looked further to the blue horizon where lay the lands of Ithilien - her home.

"Gwen," It was her father's voice. Gwen...it was the nickname he had always called her. "Gwen, I do not like this decision you have made. You know that. It was your grandfather that goaded you into taking up this mantle...a Ranger of Ithilien. He is gone now. You do not need to live up to the dreams that he had, the stories with which he filled your youth. You can come home now. Be a lady of Gondor. Be a lady of our House."

Esgalwen turned to her father, eyes still wet with tears and he felt sadness for her. He handed her a cup of wine that he had poured moments before. She gladly accepted it and took a long drink...but it was bitter. Esgalwen looked to the cup in her hands...

"Gwen, do you understand? You have a duty to your people. Your grandfather was right. In our veins is the blood of the Dúnedain. It is your duty to see that line carried on."

The bitterness in her mouth grew and she shook her head.

"Gwen...Dúnedain...Awaken," he bade her.  "Wake, and bring the fire of the Dúnedain to this place!"

Esgalwen's eyes opened to the flickering light of lamp and torch, in a cold and stony tomb. She felt the water underneath and her body began to tremble with cold. Arbogast's face was close to hers and she reached up to touch the wound on her head, and the pain that throbbed from there.

"Wake, and bring the fire of the Dúnedain to this place!" she heard again.

"Arbogast?" she whispered, as she rolled to her side in an attempt to push herself upright. Her head spun and she failed, but the Woodman could see she was now conscious.

[Telcontar]

Morirúsë walked slowly into the chamber. He still held a loft the Elven Lamp and it made his face seem chiseled and chipped from the very stone they walked under.

"You have no place here dark spirit! Long ago you should have passed the circles of the world and gone where the spirits of men are to go.
'Auta i lome!"

Morirúsë drew the long blade at his side and it was as if a shaft of moon light entered the chamber and shone upon the pool of water, mingling with the light of the lamp.

The elf stood to his full height, and raised his voice till it echoed and rolled down the hall.

"You have tasted death once, now you will meet oblivion."

Rolled 1d12 : 9, total 9

Rolled 4d6 : 2, 3, 3, 5, total 13

[Telcontar]

That was an Awe roll btw.

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast's heart lifts when he sees Esgalwen's eyes open, and still further when he hears her say his name.  Nodding to her in a way he hopes is encouraging, he readies his shield and stands by her side. 


All right, gentlemen.  Let's get this done.  Arbogast will open in Defensive stance, protecting Esgalwen.  First Dwimmerlaik that comes too close gets a torch in the eye. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

With no fear in his eyes or heart, Grimbeorn ignores the curses as feeble from the shade.  Heartened by the sounds from his companion, Grimbeorn picks up the Dunadan woman, leaving one arm free to wield his axe.  Encumbered though he was, he was still able to fight.  "Move aside," the Beorning gestures with his weapon, "Depart this place lest you court oblivion this day."

  I'll throw out another Awe if necessary.  Otherwise, Grimbeorn will be Defensive.

[Eclecticon]

Throw Awe, mate - the rolls don't cost you a red cent! 

[GandalfOfBorg]

  Only if I don't roll  

 

Awe -  1d12 : 12, total 12
Rolled 3d6 : 4, 6, 6, total 16

Use Hope if it will make a significant difference.

[Eclecticon]

Oooh, reverse fate-tempting!  Well played, sir!

[Telcontar]

  open atance for me when that time comes.

[tomcat]

An echoing laughter filled the chamber as Morirúsë stood forth, the lamp in hand.

The dread spirit's eyes blazed whiter in the darkness of its shadowy form, "Ancient fool! Your power is weak now in this world. It is you who fades, though you know it naught! You think I fear the light that shines from thine device. T'is no mighty work of your kin. T's nothing but a feeble ornament so as to make your mirth. It is you who will find your death here."

The Noldo was tired. His body was weary from travel, but more so from ages of the world. Time weighed on his being, though it could not affect him. Behind the undead spirit, the creatures  moved forward, as if they were dogs upon a chain waiting for their master's release. The light from the lamp diminished when the spirit raised its hand and exerted his power.

Arbogast stood at the ready to defend Esgalwen, should the monsters attack. She was slowly returning to herself, but still was unsteady.

And then Grimbeorn strode forth before the shade that wrestled with the Noldo Elf's spirit. The mighty Beorning shouted and a power that was within him, part of his lineage and still not understood, escaped forth as he bellowed.

Immediately the foul dwimmerlaiks were cowed and they scampered backwards into the shadows and raced in multiple directions to find a place of hiding. There also came a great wail that echoed from the other side of the grave and the dread-spirit seemed to diminish into a dark mist. The lamp of the Elves grew brighter of a sudden and the shadows within the room abated once more. The heroes were alone.
Okay... here is how I am interpreting all of this:

First, Morirúsë only rolled a 14 due to Weariness. Though it might have been a good roll in normal times, you are all in a terrible Blighted place. I have been giving the Elf Lamp a little bit of strength over the weaker-willed, but it is still only a Sylvan lamp - not one of those created by the masters of Eregion.

Second, I am not sure if you guys are filling my request for an Awe roll to shock Esgalwen back to herself, or trying to cow the undead. I, of course, have assumed the latter in my above narrative and so the undeads' reactions.

As for Grimbeorn - with his Epic roll of achieving a and two , I am applying this as a Forward Stance Intimidate manoeuvre even though combat has not yet begun. The result is to reduce up to 4 hate points divided equally among the Enemy.

So...I will say AWESOME roll! I will not say this is over.  

[tomcat]

The sound of Grimbeorn's rage shook Esgalwen, and the thick clouds within her mind were shredded away. She was truly aware of where she was now - the water around her saturating her clothes and chilling her body.

Again she pushed herself upright and moved to her knees. Looking up, the Ranger saw Nimronyn hanging on Arbogast's belt and everything came back to her - the terrible wretches within the cells, the tilting floor, and falling into darkness. Esgalwen reached out and Arbogast felt her hand clutch his arm as she pulled herself to her feet.

He met her eyes and she saw the caution in his own, and she nodded. "I am well enough to fight, my friend...but I will need my sword."

[Telcontar]

  my intent was to awe the enemy.

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast carefully returns Esgalwen's sword to her, noting as he does how her hand gripped the hilt strongly and without trembling.  "Come," he says to the companions, "let us away from this place.  The Shadow waxes about us as we tarry."

[tomcat]

give me some insight (narrative/dialogue) as to your path of departure. Or where you wanna go next if you wanna look around.

I am attaching the full map.

You guys have two choices:

1) go back to the chute where your makeshift rope is, back up a level, and then the stairs out to the ruined courtyard.

OR

2) go down the stairs and out the passage in front of you. Just know that it is pitch dark out there, as it is the middle of the night.