The Battle is Joined - Wave 3

[Eclecticon]

Though the fighting is fierce, the remaining Blood-moon warriors are those who have bound their fates to that of Vidugalum and have chosen to die rather than accept surrender.  Nor is Vidugalum himself a hapless commander.  His men fall back in good order, maintaining shield-walls in the narrow ways between the buildings of Stánford.  The Beornings continue to press them back, aided in part by a cunning flanking maneuver by Arbogast through the walls of a farmhouse, but casualties are mounting up. 

Then, from atop the great hall of the village, a trio of archers let shafts fly towards where the bear banner flies.  None find their mark, but the sudden need to seek cover amongst the ruins of the stockade strains already-weary muscles and sets newly-bound cuts to bleeding once more. 


The armies are stalemated, at least for now.  No hazards, so let's hear your heroic actions. 

EDIT:  It's been a little while since we last did this, so I'll recap briefly.  Once the initial Battle rolls are done, each of you has a chance to nominate one of your Common skills to use to do something fittingly heroic.  Make your rolls against a TN of 14 and narrate according to the results. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn has an eye for more of those errant brigands but focuses on tending to those in the rear, offering a word of encouragement and support to those injured and those tending them.  The protection is sparse as most are trying to end the battle but with the standard of the bear and it's heir about, those held back take a measure of solace knowing he is there for them all.  "With these wounds looked after, Hathcyn, back we will go and seek a final resolution to these proceedings."

 
 

Inspire - 2d12 : 3, 1, total 4
Rolled 1d6 : 3, total 3

Assumes effect from standard unless otherwise told.

[tomcat]

In a deep, resonating voice Tate begins to sing a battle hymn that he had learned from the fighting men of the Battle of Five Armies. Desperation was in their hearts at the time, but the morning was theirs and so then the field.

Hearken ye!
Come to me,
And hear this tale I weave.
Of fighting Men,
and Dwarven kin,
who battle on Mountain's knee!

With Elves so fair,
And Eagles' wings,
A Bear that strode about.
The spears were shivered,
The swords were broke,
The Enemy was put to route.

So hearken ye!
Come to me,
For thou may hast no doubt!
Beorning might,
With allies beside,
The Enemy is put to route.

He repeated the last stanza once more, and then started it again as other voices joined him - a strong swell of voices that rang through the small town.

So hearken ye!
Come to me,
For thou may hast no doubt!
Beorning might,
With allies beside,
The Enemy is put to route.


In truth, if any had heard the original song that had been sung around campfires, it would not be the same but Tate knew that he needed stronger words for the Beornings, and so made it thus.
Tate will try to use Song to swell the ranks morale and thus try to break the enemy's. He also has Minstrelsy as a trait and will apply that with the roll to hopefully have knowledge about Beornings and what sets them afire.

TN 14 song 4d

1d12 : 7, total 7
Rolled 4d6 : 5, 6, 1, 4, total 16

[tomcat]

That is a success, so hopefully that helps!

Esgalwen will be with Bandy somewhere within the buildings as she recoups her wits and can act next round.

[Eclecticon]

Beneath his glorious banner, Grimbeorn is hesitant and uncertain, not afeared of any bodily harm he might suffer, for he has bled and endured in more desperate and terrible battles than this, but of the hope, no, the faith that he sees in the eyes of the men who struggle, bloodied and in pain, to where he stands.  No objection, and no judgement does he see of his decision to remain apart from the fighting for a time, but a stoic acceptance of their lot, so long as he will lead them.  And it is here, he fears, that he may yet prove inadequate.  I know well how to lead a hunt, he thinks, awkwardly clapping a man on his un-wounded shoulder, and I have proven that I can lead a charge.  How am I to lead a people?

Seeing his stuttering where he ought to be making grand speeches, Tate strikes up his song.  Before long, all doubts have passed away, and the walking wounded are ready to rejoin the fight at the word of their leader.

[Telcontar]

Hathcyn took the moment to tighten the bindings of his wounds and prepared to go forward once more.

Rolled 1d12 : 11, total 11

Rolled 1d6 : 1, total 1

[tomcat]

I am glad that roll went well, because the actual words of my last stanza kind of fell short.  

And DAMN! Tom - the seems to be haunting our players this battle.

[Eclecticon]

Hoisting the banner-pole in his left hand, Hathcyn raises the axe in his right and is immediately swamped with pain as his wounded arm protests.  The banner sways as the Longspear is rocked with dizziness and nausea, and it is only the momentary support he receives from the men around him that keeps him on his feet.  But then the moment is past, and a wiser Hathcyn goes forth once more at the side of his lord. 

Across the field, Bandobras cradles Esgalwen's head in his lap as the two join their voices in song, a tiny enclave of serenity even as the battle continues to rage nearby.  As the light of the Stone of Ardillon finally fades, the ranger of Gondor seems at last to see clearly once more and reaches up with a hand caked in blood and grime to clasp that of the Hobbit.  Though their smiles are wan and strained as they take to their feet once again, there is an unspoken strength that each draws from the presence of the other. 

In the thick of the fighting, a man is cast back by a mighty blow to collapse at Arbogast's feet.  The Woodman glances down to see blond hair, braided much like his own, above a face only just darkened by the beginnings of a beard.  His first impulse is to reach down and raise the youth up again, but something dark stirs within the heart of the Fire-watcher and smothers all thought of assistance.  Let the boy die, comes the unbidden thought, or live maimed, that he may be an example to his family of the folly of sending boys to do men's work.  Then, perhaps, they will begin to understand the threat of the Shadow! 

Unable to suppress a sneer, he steps across the fallen man to fill the gap in the shield-wall. 


I'm not going to criticise anyone's efforts to insert poetry into the narrative and thereby make it more Tolkien-y, if only because you've all been very tolerant about my preiod doggerel. 

And DAMN! Tom - the seems to be haunting our players this battle.

Not just this battle - you've been plagued by the things for the whole adventure!