Words of the Raven - Northward (redux)

[Eclecticon]

The son of Viglund's mace-head strikes heavily into Grimbeorn's shield, but it was made with all the skill of the wood-wrights of Lothlorien and blunts his fury easily.  Still, Viglund watches, his mien impassive.  The tension in the audience is tangible, like a cord just about to snap.  And so it is that a scream from the gloaming beyond the crowd spreads panic and confusion like wildfire.  Within moments, the assembled Viglundings are drawing back from the duelling field, some running into the darkness, others rushing to seek out loved ones, none seeming to know what is taking place, but knowing that it bodes ill for them.  Viglund himself rises from his seat, his warriors drawing to him to defend against some treacherous attack, but it is no such thing. 

Rushing for the barred gates like a flood somehow streaming uphill, the loosed thralls of Viglund are making their bid for freedom. 


First things first, you'll both need to get clear from the enemies closest to you, which I'll treat as escaping from combat (see TOR, p. 180).  The TN will be 13 in each case - Viglund's guards are more concerned with protecting their chieftain than holding on to Rorin, and while Grimbeorn is facing two foes, Thunar isn't going to make any attempt to stop him leaving, and Viglar isn't that effective a fighter.  Rolls follow:

Grimbeorn

1d12 : 11, total 11
Rolled 3d6 : 5, 4, 1, total 10

Hathcyn

1d12 : 2, total 2
Rolled 2d6 : 6, 5, total 11

Mike, if you want to bring Anar in here, feel free.  We can do this narratively while we work his stats out.  Bear in mind, though, that he won't have anything beyond what he stands up in (unless you can convince the other two to go and loot Fystenheorth, which they may want to do anyway to make sure that Rorin and Grimbeorn's followers are suitably equipped). 

[Eclecticon]

That's a tough result for Grimbeorn - though you can make it a success with a Hope point...

Also, it's an extra AP for Hathcyn, with the great success and his Swift trait. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

 
What if I decide to take the fail?

[Eclecticon]

You'll just be stuck with Viglar trying to kill you for a bit longer.  If it goes on too long, you may have Viglund's other warriors to worry about, as well. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

In the mass confusion, Grimbeorn is unable to get to his friends.  Still armed, he he keeps his cool trying to protect himself and the Innocents from the wild and ill-conceived attacks from Viglar and possible furtive blows from opportunists.

[Telcontar]

The cry of panic is unmistakable to those who have heard it. The sound starts as a singular peel, almost a laugh, but then rolls into a screatch as other voices lend their music to the drama.

Hathcyn took it for a signal that the escape was nigh. He blew the rallying whistle and sought to link up with Rorin. For Grimbeorn was armed and ready, while the dwarf was alone, unarmed, and wounded.

[Eclecticon]

As soon as his captors move away from him, Rorin leaps to his feet and shoves his way through to Hathcyn.  Clapping the tall man's arm, he exclaims "a less happy meeting than in Beorn's mead-hall, but no less welcome!"  Then a shout from one of Viglund's guards shows that his escape has been marked.  "My hammer lies somewhere in that hall," Rorin growls, "and I am loath to leave it for these vile folk." 

The weapons marking the corners of the duelling field shine in the firelight as Viglar fails to land another blow on Grimbeorn.  Thunar, raw hatred in his eyes, bellows at the drunken warrior.  "Foolish sot!  Look at what you've done!  I'll fight no longer in a duel whose honour you have trampled!" 

Then, and only then, does Viglund speak.  "No, you won't, for no duel is this any longer!  Bring him down, and quickly!  There is hard work to be done this night!" 

Needing no further encouragement, Viglar once more lays on.  Thunar merely stands by his side, however, ready to defend the son of his chieftain. 


Another attack by Viglar.  There's no need to go back into combat rounds, as I think this is about to become a running battle better suited to narrative time.  I'll assume that Grimbeorn is continuing to sacrifice a weapon die to fight defensively, for a TN of 22.

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

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Thunar, don't.  Fight for a better future instead of for those drunk on wine and power."

 
Yes, that is fine to keep up my defense for now.  Grimbeorn attacks Viglund to subdue, not harm, but reply with deadly force against any guards who attack him directly or his people.

[Telcontar]

Hathcyn darted a quick glance to the fight at hand and summed in his head quickly the chaos that was the flight from bondage. They were flying without thought or care, knowing only to be away was better. These folk were Beornings, and some among them surely would have worked upon the dwarf road. And so Hathcyn drew his hand to his mouth and blew another whistle. This one hopefully heard by the flight of the captives and also hopefully understood by some. The call was to fly and scatter, but to assemble and help was near at hand. With that done he turned to the dwarf.

"Come Rorin Roadmaker, let us raid the den of the wolf and owl. For the fox too takes what it wants." The man smiled at throwing Viglund's words back at him. He laughed, "come, let us fetch your hammer Roadmaker so that the craftsman shall not be long sundered from his tool."

[Eclecticon]

Grimbeorn attacks Viglund to subdue, not harm...
[/color]

:ooc:Okay, I'll treat this as another called shot.

:00 1d12 : 2, total 2
Rolled 4d6 : 3, 4, 6, 4, total 17

[Eclecticon]

Thunar almost seems to nod despite himself, but remains steadfast at Viglar's side.  The momentary connection coupled with his weariness from battle, though, is enough to distract him long enough for Grimbeorn to surge forward.  Beating Viglar's mace aside with Bear Claw, Grimbeorn puts all his weight and his considerable strength behind a shield blow that lifts Viglar off his feet and knocks him flat on his back. 

Through the thinning crowd, he sees Hathcyn and Rorin side by side, making for the doors of the hall.  At the same moment, he sees a knot of young Beornings he recognises from the day of Odo and Merovech's funeral.  Though bloodied and bruised, the men are rushing for the gate with the rest of the freed thralls, and Grimbeorn feels a stab of pride when he sees that they are grouped around a handful of children.  No, he quickly realises, not children.  Hobbits! 

As Thunar cries for the Viglunding warriors to rally to their chieftain, Rorin stops and siezes Hathcyn's sleeve so suddenly that the fabric tears and the swift-footed Beorning is nearly yanked off his feet.  There is barely time to speak, but Rorin points out a pair of Dwarves, their short legs pounding as they follow the rest of the captives. 

[Telcontar]

"Aye, the pits of this place held many captives it would seem, in time we will hear their tale and have our revenge. But roght now if you want your and many days left to you to ise it we must move now!"

[GandalfOfBorg]

"I've come for my people, nothing more.  No more blood need be shed.  I am leaving, pray do not hinder our passage."

Grimbeorn goes off to shield the escape of those helpless to defend themselves.

[tomcat]

Give us an Awe roll on that one, Matt! Show that inner-Bear. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

 
 
 

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

Use. Hope and Grim applicable