Foes - Stánford and the South

[Eclecticon]

The Anduin river is cold and midnight-black, and the sunken stones of the ancient ford from which Stánford takes its name create strange whorls and eddies in the water.  Tate has lived half his life on and around boats, but it is still all he and Esgalwen can do to keep it upright and pointed in the right direction.  Soon, the pair look up from their struggle with the waters and realise that Williferd, rowing with the confidence of one who knows this reach of the river well, has outpaced them and has vanished into the shadows ahead.  In their little boat in the middle of a broad river, however, there is little they can do but keep going, though the effort taxes muscles little used in recent months. 

Their efforts are rewarded when they reach the opposite bank and see Williferd's boat already pulled up and made fast to the shore.  When their own boat strikes the muddy bottom of the river, they disembark and pull their boat into the shallows, their feet slipping in the cold mud.  Before they can find another nearby bush or stone to tie it to, the calm of the night is split by the sound of an iron-headed shaft striking its strakes. 

"Hold," comes the voice of Williferd across the night wind.  "Is it not enough that you have unmanned me before my kin?  Must you harry my steps until life itself leave me?  Declare, you hounds of Beorn, why you have pursued me though I go of my own will into lone and solitary exile!" 


Reading the above rolls, I think that you made a good job of bringing the boat across, but that Williferd heard you and was ready when you reached the shore.  So we're now doing another encounter.  No need for introduction rolls - he's already very well aware who you are - and TNs for all interactions are 16 until I say otherwise. 

Let's play this out and see what each side has to say for themselves. 

[Posterboy]

Tate sighed inwardly as he heard Williferd call them out. Stepping forward, Tate tried to place himself in the open. "You accuse me falsely, Williferd. I have naught spoken of our conversation to any of your kin. Only my companion knows, and her only enough to help our search for your friend.

"Come, Williferd! While we are emissaries of your master, we are not your enemy. You and I both know you are not out here seeking a lone and solitary exile. I know you have come in search of Oderic too. Let us make this search together and do the right thing, Williferd. You know Oderic must faced your master and the truth be spoken. Do the right thing now, and, perhaps, as he and you tell your stories, justice and mercy might embrace."

  Come on, dice! Don't fail me now!

Persuade Roll = TN 16

Rolled 1d12 : 12, total 12

Rolled 3d6 : 2, 4, 3, total 9

[Posterboy]

  Well... that makes me happy! 

[tomcat]

"Time is in short supply," added Esgalwen. "When we left Grimbeorn, he was leading another company north and east to deal with a marauding band of orcs. Williferd, I must get back to the master of these lands - t'is no sword oath, but that of friendship that drives me. Grimbeorn put it in our charge to see Oderic returned. I beseech you to look at what is going on. A husband is now buried, two men have been slain that were previously sent to your town. If Oderic is guiltless of these deeds, then it will be a restoration of his place in your community. Hence you will have a new - and free - opportunity to pursue this new life."

The lady of Gondor waited a moment, " If not, then justice will be found for men callously slain. Certainly you can see the rightness in this path. Yes?"

TN 16 persuade 3d

1d12 : 5, total 5
Rolled 3d6 : 3, 2, 1, total 6

[tomcat]

Esgalwen could see no change in the man's shadowed face to her plea. Frustration was growing again within her, like at the table earlier in the evening. It served her no good then, and it would serve her no good now. Tate had made a connection with this man; she would say no more and leave it to him to speak.

Either way, the Ranger was ready to continue pursuit of their quarry, and she would go through Williferd, if need be. Time was running out.

[Eclecticon]

Some Insight rolls, now that verbal swords are crossed:

Esgalwen

1d12 : 1, total 1
Rolled 1d6 : 6, total 6

Tate

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

[Eclecticon]

The darkness hides Williferd's eyes, and the curiously flattening effect of the night wind on his voice turn the man into a riddle not to be read by those who now face him.  His grip, in any case, does not shift on the bow in his hands, nor does the fleeting moonlight show that he has lowered the arrow nocked to the string.

"Rathfic is slain, and so too are Odo and great Merovech.  The ranks of the dead have swollen since this tragedy began.  What good will words do, be they mine, Beorn's or those of any other Man, to make this right?  It seems to me that all that is left to do is to bring this sorrowful tale to its sorrowful end, and let the doom that lies alike on Oderic and I be brought forth."


So far you guys have one success and one failure, but there's more to be gained from talking, if you want to continue...

[Posterboy]

Tate heard the frustration growing in his companion beside him. Patience, Gwen! he tried to will his thoughts to her in the dark. You'll frighten our quarry away!

Williferd's response only affirmed the minstrel's fears... the Beorning warrior was despairing. Tate knew that if he could bring the man some hope, and quick, more blood was about to be spilt.

"Williferd," Tate began, trying to close the gap between himself and the Beorning while also trying to put himself between Williferd and Esgalwen. "Please, friend... listen. This night need not end in doom and bloodshed.

"You are right! There is sorrow in this tale... but it need not be how the story ends. We could weave a different ending. One where our words mourn the loss of the dead, yes... but also restores hope for those still living.

"Rathfic is dead, by Oderic's hands, but not by any ill will of Oderic. And Odo and Merovech are dead too, but I doubt it was done by Oderic's hands. Do you see the story is already changing? Our words could very well restore Oderic's honour.

"Come, Williferd. Where is Oderic? Let us go to him together. Let's tell a new story."

  come on, dice!! 

Persuade Roll. TN=16.

Rolled 1d12 : 4, total 4

Rolled 3d6 : 5, 1, 2, total 8

Invoke Merry trait if needed. Tate is trying to persuade Williferd out of his despair and towards a path of hope.

[Posterboy]

  Tate will spend a point of Hope to add +5. Does that actually improve the result, if I'm stacking Merry with my point of hope? Or is that just being wasteful?

[Eclecticon]

I'll give it to you for the Merry trait (though no AP for you!). 

[Eclecticon]

"I..."  Williferd's voice falters, and it is only after the wind drops to a whisper that he continues.  "I know not where he is, nor whether some dark fate has already befallen him.  Even if he were to be found, do you think that you could make such a proud man come with you, having once shown his unwillingness to meet the judgement of his folk?  Could you even keep him safe, you who bear swords at your sides, where two of Beorn's greatest could not?"

[tomcat]

Esgalwen sighed in her resolution and said, "Oderic will be given his chance to come of his own accord - and reason will be the tool that we use, just as we speak here. If he refuses, he will be subdued and brought by force...and yes, we are capable of said task, Williferd. That said, we were not sent here as judge and jury, thus neither are we executioners. It will not be our hands that blood will be drawn, but we will not be kind in the method by which we subdue."

There was no braggadocio in her voice, yet it was stern as steel, "I owe much to the scion of Beorn, and it is his wish that Oderic be returned and it will be done. Help us so that no one is harmed in this task."


with the slight crack in Williferd's resolve, I will try one more persuade...

TN 16 persuade 3d

1d12 : 11, total 11
Rolled 3d6 : 2, 3, 2, total 7

[tomcat]

And that is three...  

As Tom always says, the dice are telling a story here. Well, I am calling this as I see it - Esgalwen's diminished Hope score that she has sacrificed along her travels in the north, especially in the Cave of the Werewolf, has made her pretty fey and it is evident in her demeanor that she is not caring how things go down.

I guess in her mind she is thinking, if this man doesn't loosen his grip on the bow her sword, Nimronyn, will be needed.

[tomcat]

I should have stayed with my initial thought and kept her freaking mouth shut.

[Eclecticon]

The horror and grief in Williferd's voice are clearly evident as he says "help you?  I...  I cannot..." 

A faint sound carries on the breeze, one of shifting feet.  There comes yet no creak of a bending bow, but when his voice next comes it is fainter and his words more plaintive.  "Can there not be some short life for him here, on the edge of the lands of Men?  Here, where reign the wolf and the owl, surely a lone outlaw could be forgotten.  It need not be..."  A noise, perhaps a sob, cuts him off. 

"Beorn's tolerance need not last for long." 


Two failures.  You're losing him...