Pursuit - the Fugitive

[Posterboy]

  Alright... some rolls.

Tate is going to start by trying to win the favour of the people as he shares stories and songs about the wider world with the folk here. I'm thinking Courtesy.

Courtesy Roll

Rolled 1d12 : 12, total 12

Rolled 3d6 : 6, 3, 1, total 10

[Posterboy]

  Awesome!

So... next I was thinking Tate would try to rally/solidify the support and loyalty of the people towards Grimbeorn through a song retelling his great deeds in slaying the Werewolf.

Song Roll

Rolled 1d12 : 3, total 3

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

[Posterboy]

  If I need to add my Merry trait to succeed on that last roll, so be it. Not Tate's best performance.

Next, Tate also will use his Insight to try and follow the conversation flying back and forth amongst the people and see if he can catch any meaning beyond the bickering. If needed, he'll invoke his Curious trait.

Insight Roll

Rolled 1d12 : 4, total 4

Rolled 2d6 : 4, 4, total 8

[Posterboy]

  Okay... so, definitely needing the Curious trait.

One last roll... assuming his Insight roll helps him to locate someone in the crowd who knows who ferried Oderic across, Tate catches up with the person after Esgalwen goes off on the folks, and tries to Persuade the person to reveal who helped Oderic.

Persuade Roll

Rolled 1d12 : 7, total 7

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

[Posterboy]

  Oh, you're gonna talk alright! You're gonna squeal like pig and tell me everything I want to know! (and probably a bunch of stuff I don't want to know too).

Alright, so here's the narrative piece.


Tate had cleanse his soul and cleared his mind by the time they returned to the cook fires. A little song his mother had taught him long ago was his remedy whenever he needed to center himself and gain some clarity. He sensed he'd need all the clarity he could muster for this next encounter. The folk of Stánford were a wary folk: their speech, like fog, hung heavy in the air but didn't help one see any better.

Entering the village hall, the smell of roasting meat and the bustle of people at a dinner feast helped return Tate to his cheerful and merry self. This was just the sort of setting that energized the minstrel's spirit.

As the people came to Tate, eager to hear news of the wider world, Tate obliged as best his could, sharing stories of the good work their kinsmen were doing on rebuilding the old road, stories of his time at King Bard's courts and how Esgalwen was working on behalf of all the people of the Wilderlands, stories of how, at this very moment, Lord Grimbeorn was protecting their lands and sending orc raider to flight in fear and terror.

This led naturally to a song he'd being working, Lord Grimbeorn and Wicked Wolf. It was a merry and gay tune, in the simple form of the work shanties of Beorning people, that told of Lord Grimbeorn's exploits in defeating the Werewolf. The lyrics told the story in such a way that, though the Werewolf was portrayed as quite the terror, Grimbeorn, which the help of his companions triumphed over the beast with cleverness and sheer strength. The Werewolf is seen finally to be a fool and a coward in the presence of the great Grimbeorn.

The conclusion of the song made a nice transition for Ava to turn the conversation towards Esgalwen and Tate's mission. And so began a long string of personal thoughts on the subject of Oderic, Rathfic, Brunhild and Helmgut – a flood of thoughts, spoken before only in a whisper, now getting to air out in the open as for the first time. Tate suddenly had the image of his friend, Kolbeinn, in front of him, giving him a lesson on hunting and tracking hares. Watch out that they don't lose you on one of a hundred false trails.

Tate tried to pay close attention, focusing on those who seemed in favour of Oderic and who might know something about who aided the man cross the river. He was just starting to get a sense of who he needed to approach for further conversation when Esgalwen suddenly stood up. Oh-oh!

Tate had been so focused on the others, he hadn't been paying attention to his friend beside him. He did now. Esgalwen stood to her full height and her noble and fair features shone forth in righteous anger toward the petty squabbling of the townsfolk. Even Tate had to resist from shrinking back from the Ranger's scathing words.

When she was finished, Tate bit his tongue and stayed silent, waiting to hear how the people would response. He did keep his eyes on the few people he still hoped to speak to before the evening was over. The man of the Lake had a good feeling that someone knew who aided Oderic.

[tomcat]

Awesome post, buddy   

Great set of rolls, too! See, no wonder Tate is so happy. He achieves dice rolls and always leaves people smiling.

[Eclecticon]

Agreed!

I know which way the scene is going to go - I just need a clear moment to type it up.  I have a million, billion things to get done today, so it might not be until tomorrow.

[Eclecticon]

As Esgalwen berates the assembled folk of Stánford, Tate watches faces and marks who whispers to who.  He sees many reactions - schock, offence, anger - and there, on the face of Williferd the warrior: shame. 

As Ava rises to call for more ale, and to lead the womenfolk in a new song, Tate rises and crosses to the young man.  A single look at Tate, and Williferd seems to collapse inside.  Wordlessly, the pair leave the hall.  Rounding on him the moment they are outside in the cool air, Tate says "so, it was you." 

"Aye, it was.  And for all your friend's fine words about Master Beorn and our sworn obedience to his law, I would do it again." 

He looks away and, despite his brave words, when he looks back he seems a man in the throes of despair.  "He saved my life, that day in the southern vales.  Every dawn that I have seen since then is one I owe to him.  And..." 

For a while, he wrestles with something that he clearly wants to speak out loud, but cannot.  Tate fills the silence.  "Not long have I lived, perhaps, as the Men of ancient days would reckon it, but I have seen much in that span of time.  You speak defiantly, but great is the sorrow you carry.  Speak it, I pray you, and perhaps it will be lessened, as most troubles are when shared by friends." 

"I..." Williferd begins, haltingly.  "I love him.  I love him with a passion I have felt for no woman.  I cannot understand it, but I know it to be true.  Were he to return home tomorrow, many would shun him.  Perhaps they would take up arms to drive him away, but not I.  I would welcome him with open arms, despite what I know him to have done.  Despite..." 

His fragile composure finally shatters and he collapses against Tate's shoulder, seized by wracking sobs.  When finally he can speak intelligibly once more, he begins again.  "Nor was I alone.  It was never stated openly, but I know that Rathfic felt the same.  I think that he spoke his heart to Oderic, and begged to lie with him.  But Oderic was a proud man, and would not have entertained such an unmanly offer.  So they fought, and Rathfic was unkindly slain.  Beorn's men came, and they took my love from me.  But then he was back, and needed my aid... and I could not deny him, even knowing what would follow if ever I were to speak my heart to him." 

More sobs follow, then: "and so I rowed him across the river, and bade him farewell.  I know that he was not a good man, but I would have had it that he was mine.  And now he never will be, though I were to live to the final days." 

[Posterboy]

  Huh...    I was not expecting that.

Dang! 

[Eclecticon]

Hopefully the unspoken follow-on from that is '... but it makes total sense'. 

Foreshadowing appropriately while leaving room for a shocking revelation is hard.

[Posterboy]

  Absolutely!

I will be posting tonight. Sorry for the hold up.

Doug, our mandate is to capture Oderic, yes?

[Telcontar]

   mandate

[tomcat]

yea, we were asked to find him and bring him back.

[Telcontar]

  look at you guys over here in your own thread making it rain 

Meanwhile on the other side of town....

[Posterboy]

Williferd's revelation caught Tate off guard, but the bard kept his composure even as he suddenly found himself holding the weeping warrior. The Man of the Lake's mind was whirling, putting the pieces of the story together while at the same time trying to figure out what must be done next. Here now I need you, Gwen! Tate thought.

The minstrel knew the just course... Williferd should be taken in the face fair punishment for aiding Oderic, but, in doing so, both the warrior and Brunhild would likely face deep shame. And Rathfic... rumor and hearsay could possibility bring shame to his name, and who would defend the dead man?

"You were bold and right in speaking this truth to me, Williferd," Tate told the warrior, still picking out his words. "You must do so again now." The minstrel looked the man in the eyes as he spoke. "You know the laws of Lord Beorn better than this foreigner. What would your master expect done with you?"