Payment in Spears

[Telcontar]

  i can probably use my Night Goer ability to get an idea of how many Blood Moon raiders there are. Anyone have an issue if I burn a Hope point from the Fellowship pool?

[GandalfOfBorg]

  I'm fine with it

[Eclecticon]

Does anyone else want to weigh in on the plan(s)?  This isn't a Beorning-only council, and I don't want to advance the plot until you guys have reached a firm decision (by the standards of a tabletop roleplaying group, at least) on what you're actually going to do. 

And Tom, Stánford is well within the range you can access as a night-goer. 

[Telcontar]

great, let me think bout how I can maximize this. Also, are th thegns going home? Or just going out among there people that are already here?

[Eclecticon]

The thegns will be spending much of their time among their own personal followers, keeping spirits up and warriors patient while you deliberate.

There is a point at which they'll lose their patience and demand to be allowed to return to their own clans and harvests, though.  The demands of an agricultural economy are unforgiving, and you really don't have these guys indefinitely.

[Telcontar]

Hathcyn nodded to Grimbeorn.

"The night has often been a great councilor to all our folk. Let us see what counsel he brings tonight."

All at the council knew that Beorn forbade the killing of animals or hunting at night near his home.  Some of those present knew the real meaning of his words. For it was at night that the totems of the folk ran with their spirits and they gave good counsel to those who could hear them.

The gathering broke up, but Hathcyn was not done. The thegns had planted the seeds of an idea in his head and he went to Harhold

"Harhold, we have road work to do!"

His friend raised a brow, "road work?"

"We have many idle hands here. Get your head straight man! What's the first thing the dwarves did on the road?"

"If you dont work you dont eat."

"No, before that."

"If you steal anything..."

"No you sod, work gangs. The first thing they did was put us into work gangs. We have all these men here worrying about clearing fields and everyone is worried about there own lands. Let's get work gangs started!"

He smiled at his friend and hit his shoulder.

"Everyone has fields to clear and wants to get back to them, but they are all idle here. Some of those men we rescued are landless, we'll ask for volunteers there first. Then we go to the freeholders and lords and ask for volunteers. We start with those closest and whoever's land we clear promises to aid and assist the next man. And so the lands are cleared faster and there is less concerns of home if we march north or south. You and I and the other landless men are the grease we need to get it started, should we march we can continue the work on our return.  Then each who joins will see his lands cleared in turn and though he be last there will be many hands to pass it quickly. Grimbeorn will provide the beer! Come on, let's go!"

Hathcyn was filled with exuberance with his plan and his smile and quick words were headed by some and the plan began to take form. The morning would find him stripped to the waist scythe in hand with a song in his throat as the grass fell, but there was other work to do that night as well.

When the fire burned low in the great hall the two men gathered by the side boards. Hathcyn with a blanket and clean water made up a pallet and lay himself down. Harhold, with a flagon and a skin prepared to take watch over his friend while he undertook the night travel.

He lay down and composed his mind. He thought of the heather and the fields, the grass on his nose, and eggs snatched from a coup. He thought of his ancestors,  his brother, and of running swiftly with them across fields of moon filled grass. Then he was gone.

Out of the hall his mind fled and captured by moon and starlight he was once more among his people and his kin. A swift red fox with a silver tipped tail swiftly sped into the night.

His first stop was up the hill and along a trail. Speedily he passed a pasture and soon to a stone hut with a turf roof. The need of his lord was pressing, but Hathcyn could not resist the chance to check on his Lady Thornapple. She was there as he expected her to be in his minds eye. She sat by a low fire sharpening tools on an old whetstone. Her son heating rocks for night warmth. Another chair empty, but in pride of place for a man who would never return. He lingered a moment, and then was away south in pursuit of the news of war.
"I shall show crows the meaning of haste," he thought as he sped south.

[tomcat]

Hey Paul, Esgalwen is going to kind of sit back on this one. She will participate in whatever Beorn orders, but she will not be adding any guidance.

As a player, I am going to let Matt and Tom decide the direction, too. They are vested in the Beorning story and so should decide the fate of their people.

[Posterboy]

  One question: How soon are we moving to the end-of-year phase?

If we've still got another season to play out, Tate will speak up in favour of providing aid and defense for the people of Stanford. He would also like to see justice come to Oderic.

(though, if it is known that Hathcyn is scouting out Stanford, he'd remain quite until news arrived)

If we're moving to year-end phase, Tate would volunteer to go with some of Grimbeorn's thegns speak to the King of Dale to form an alliance to scout and clear out the Northwestern Vales of the encroaching Viglundings, bandits and goblins. (and he would invited Esgalwen to join him in the task.)

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Rorin, would you send your companion to Radagast?
I will send my father's swiftest flyer to the Eagles to request their aid or at least wisdom in the matters of what falls under their gaze in regard to the raiders, goblins or other such dangers.  As much as I wish I could go, I believe ill would befall us and I wouldn't be here to meet it."

"Esgalwen, you're a lady of strength in arms and the ways of war.  Would you train those willing to this end?  We could use each and every edge against any of the foes we are to face."
---
Grimbeorn set out to ensure all was moving with haste and purpose.  Riders had departed, messengers sent aloft, and men at work with blade of war or of the soil to help their neighbors.  Word eventually came to him of promises made by Hathcyn and chuckled.  Finding the man, he commended his determination and industry, but warned of overpromising on other men's barrels of drink.

[Eclecticon]

Beneath the rising moon, Hathcyn goes forth from Ubhala's threshold cloaked in the fox-skin of his ancient ancestors.  Like the shadow of a cloud, he flows across meadow and through wood, his footfalls soft as prayers.  Guided by the stars, and the ever-present sound of the flowing river, he makes his way south, passing the shadow-touched bank where murdered men were discovered and orcs crossed to ravage and destroy.  Though the scents of Esgalwen and Tate are long since gone, there remain traces in the trail that speak of their passage.  Passing the hollow where, not long past, he discovered Oderic in his flight, he goes on, and further on. 

By the time he reaches the village, the moon has drawn clouds about itself as if unwilling to gaze on what lies beneath, for it is plain that a battle has been fought here.  Though the remains of the dead have been gathered and burned, the scent of the blood of Men, thick and metallic, still hangs in the air beneath the now-familiar smells of smoke and burned flesh.  Beyond the trampled field, Stánford sits quietly, its hearths barely burning.  From within its houses and hall wafts the weeping of children and the scents of many unfamiliar bodies. 

Slipping silently between the shadows of buildings, Hathcyn stops at each door to sniff quietly and mark those within.  Many smell as though they belong, their body-scents mixing with those of the soil, the beasts of the field and the ripened grain.  Many others, especially those in the great hall, carry with them the memories of lands beyond those known to him. 

Hours pass, and the moon glides toward the horizon, but little do those with him in Beorn's House see him stir until he is certain.  Vidugalum now holds Stánford with a force of ninety-one men, and another fifty women and children besides. 

One question: How soon are we moving to the end-of-year phase?

I'm going to hand straight over to Doug once the adventure is done, but based on the timing I would expect that there'll be a year-end Fellowship phase right afterwards. 

I should point out, since I haven't already, that you have the option of doing nothing militarily this year (though that won't impress the thegns, it'll allow for Beorn to decide things on his return), in which case we can go straight to the Fellowship phase. 

Also, Mike, go ahead and give Anar six Advancement Points, distributed however you like, to represent his experiences so far this year.  He's been through quite a bit, even though most of it was off camera. 

[Telcontar]

Hathcyn stirred in the great hall of Beorn. The need was pressing, but he found it hard to return, like he was being forced to leave his home. A feeling the Longspear was quite familiar with. He opened his eyes.

"Stanford has fallen. The raiders have taken the hall and taken the homes of the survivors as there own."

He got up and made his way to Grimbeorn to report all that he heard.

[Posterboy]

  I'm assuming Hathcyn is making his report in the presence of the company, not just Grimbeorn... if, I am mistaken, please set this post aside...

Tate listened with interest as the young Beorning reported all to Grimbeorn. For the moment, the Man of the Lake overlooked the mystery and magic of how Hathcyn had managed to scout out Stanford unseen... and that a two day ride from here!

But the disastrous news that Stanford had been overrun, that Tate could not overlook. Addressing Grimbeorn directly, on the heels of Hathcyn, Tate appealed with passion, "My Lord, you must retake Stanford. These raiders will not be satisfied with the village. They are locust, feasting on all they can before moving on to the next settlement. Not only grain and wine, but hope. That is what they seek to devour... your people's hope.

"Strike now. Strike decisively. That your people may not grow faint of heart. Your people already know the stories of how your slayed the beast. Let them now learn the stories of how their Lord defended their lands and vanquished their foes."

[tomcat]

With the grim news born to them by Hathcyn, Esgalwen sat in silent anger. She never should have left them.

Tate made his plea to Grimbeorn but she did not interrupt. Instead her mind went to Ava and Hartwulf, to Helmgut and Bruinhild, and even Oderic. Surely, if found there, he would have been put to the sword. The Blood Moon Raiders would have seen him as a traitor.

Her heart felt like it clenched. She had taken him back there and left him in the elders' charge. I can only hope they let him fight once more in defense of his home, she thought. If he has died in battle, at least his passing will be honourable. Esgalwen fought to resist the purging of her dinner, as acid filled her center.

The minstrel had finished speaking and Grimbeorn sat in deadly quiet. The ranger stood, breathing deeply to keep herself then added softly, her voice weighed down by the guilt she now felt.

"Tate is right. Something must be done and quickly, but this is not just a Beorning problem. Yes, Stánford was a Beorning holding, but the Blood Moon Raiders are a problem for all clans within the vale. The Woodmen and Mountain Men are just as threatened and they must shoulder this burden, too. I say that riders - or other messengers - be sent forth post haste to both Woodland Hall and Woodmen Town, as well as to Hartfast of Mountain Hall. Grimbeorn, those folk owe us in blood and great now is the friendship between your peoples due to our aid with the goblins.

"Winter is almost upon us. Fields cannot go fallow. So use your alliances, use every asset that you can call upon! That has been the whole point of all of our efforts since the Folk-moot, years past! To bind the people together. To make a union of clans. So that none need face a danger alone."

Esgalwen shook her head to free her mind of Oderic's dead face, which faded into that of Orophin. Rallying herself, she stood back up straight.

"I will gladly aid in training your folk in weapons, but you must act swiftly and call all the banners. Even the band of outlaws that haunt the western eaves - it is their lands, too, that are threatened. Every clan in the vale must be rallied. If you wish me to ride instead, to carry that message, so be it."

With that, the woman returned to her seat.

[Eclecticon]

Rorin, still groggy from awakening, arches an eyebrow.  "Ye speak soundly.  Long have we worked to build friendship between the Free Peoples.  I don't know, though, whether the season is right for that tree to bear fruit." 

"For several years I lived among the Woodmen at Rhosgobel," he says, "and I have seen how all hands, young and old, are put to work gathering what little bounty the forest provides.  Your call will produce few volunteers, though those that do come will be the ones who have suffered at the hands of the Blood Moons.  I do not doubt that Arbogast, if the call reaches him in time, will make his way to you, though all the shades of the wood sought to bar his way!" 

[Telcontar]

"It is easy for us to say do this, or do that. The truth is that the burden is Grimbeorn's and heavier still that it is on loan from his father. This is not a criticism of any here, but a reality. We have but one throw to make against these raiders and with, as you say, enemies all around. Friends are further and they are but a promise. We have sufficient strength here for one good go at it. If we fail then like locusts these raiders will fall on steding and farm as its resources are used up or they grow tired and take the land for their own. Our enemies from the north will be back in the spring and so unless the dwarves come we will then be fewer in number against them, even in victory against the raiders we will be weaker. I have given what news I can, and rendered what small wisdom I possess to my chief. The decision is yours Wolfslayer and none others so I will say neither yes or no, only 'We obey'."