FELLOWSHIP PHASE - The Road Goes Ever On and On

[Posterboy]

Hey Doug (or Paul),
Did you already add Tate's AP & XP to his sheet?
Peace,
Ayrn

[Eclecticon]

I'm pretty sure I did, since I didn't think that you'd be around.  If he's at full health, with all his check-boxes cleared and a fair swack of un-spent points, then he's good to go. 

EDIT: In fact, I'm completely sure, since I just remembered that I claimed some extra Fellowship to replenish his Hope (which should now be at 11). 

[Posterboy]

Awesome! Thanks!

Tate will spend 12 of the 13 AP on raising Inspire from 0 -> 2. He spent a lot of time trying to inspire the Beornings at the battle for Stanford.
Tate will save his 12 XP for next time.

[Eclecticon]

For my part, I'm spending 12 AP to raise Arbogast's Song to 3 and banking his un-spent XP. 

Undertakings will be:
1. Work on the road
2. Confer with Radaghast the Brown.

Weal and Woe roll:
This dice roll has been tampered with!
1d12 : 7, total 7

Holding roll (TN 9):
This dice roll has been tampered with!
1d12 : 2, total 2

Vignettes to follow. 

[Eclecticon]

Cross-posted with Aryn, not that it matters too much at this point. 

[Eclecticon]

The stars turn in the heavens and the days bury one another.  Winter tightens, then loosens, is grip upon the world, and the myriad of lives both great and small continue.

"I'M A SPIDER!  I'M A SPIDER," Cyffa shrieks as she pursues her sister across ground still crisp with frost.  Lafwyne gives an answering squeal of not-entirely-feigned horror and redoubles her efforts to escape.  Meanwhile, Arbogast, his belly newly full and his bladder felt empty, watches his daughters with the indulgent patience of a father who is not currently being called upon to perform any particular duty.

His reverie is interrupted by the arrival of Lindwine, her swollen belly seeming distended against her still-thin limbs.  She groans in answer to his greeting. 

"Another poor night?" he asks.

She nods her agreement.  "I can find comfort neither lying down nor sitting up.  Your child," she says, eyes narrowed, "desires that I sleep standing, as if I were a mare in a field.  Why have you done nothing?"

"I?" he says, in genuine confusion.

"You, Fire-watcher, and no other!  Is it not your lot in life to relieve the misery and suffering of innocents?"

He regards her skeptically.  "I have not the tools to bring relief in this case, and must therefore counsel patience."  In a softer tone, he continues, "the time must surely be soon."

"Not soon enough, for your child surely means to slay me with weariness before that day may dawn."

After a pause sufficient to honour the gravity of her foresight, he asks, full of false nonchalance, "what shall we call him?"

"Him?" she replies, taking her own turn to seem confused.  "Oh, but of course, husband, you do not know.  While you were away, my kinswomen and I made the decision that I shall bear only daughters.".

Once again, he frowns as he looks at her.  "Is such a thing possible?"

"It is, so far as you, or any man, may know."

"Woe unto Arbogast, then, for I greatly desire a son who might be the attentive husband that I have so long failed to be."

"Well," she says, "at least you have riddled out the source of my great scorn.  Now, were you too swear appropriately great oaths, I might be persuaded to relent."

"Name such an oath, and rest assured that I shall swear it, for you, and for our son soon to be born."

"How can I but relent in the face of such ardent love!" she laughs.

Two weeks later, their third daughter is born.  Amid boundless joy, she is named Wilone.


More to come later.

[Posterboy]

If Tate can, he will help with the road too as his first undertaking.

And here's his roll for Weal and Woe:

Rolled 1d12 : 10, total 10

[Paladin003]

OOC: how do you roll dice on here again?

Also, this is my first game that there's been a Fellowship Phase. I'm reading over the options.

[Telcontar]

Doug posted a whole post on dice rolling in the resources thread I believe

[Eclecticon]

Turns out it was in the 'Battle of Stánford' thread.  You can find a discussion here. 

[Eclecticon]

Though Arbogast has no more coin to his name with which to buy the labour of his kin, when Spring at last stands unfurls its banner over the world many Woodmen nevertheless wander north in expectation of work, and the Fire-watcher goes gladly among them.  When they reach their destination, they find Dwarves of Erebor awaiting them, purses heavy with silver.  By the turn of April into May, work has begun in earnest on the re-laying of the stones of the road.  In this, the Woodmen can offer no art to match that of the Dwarven masons, but there is plenty of brute labour to be done simply hauling blocks of stone about. 

The work is slowed, however, by the constant incursions of spiders, jealous of their ancient demense and filled with hatred and hunger for those that go abroad on two legs.  By mid May, the decision is made by Bofri and Rorin to shift the focus of the work gangs to restoring the wayforts that line the road, that there may be strong walls to protect those who work to rebuild the road, and the families that they have brought with them.  Here, the Fellowship of the Helm once again acts as the tip of a spear, launching lightning assaults to capture the Millfort (where the scars of their battle years ago still linger) and thereafter each in turn.  Each stronghold is once again made whole by Dwarven craft of stone and Woodman craft of timber. 


I have one last vignette in mind, but don't let that stop the start of the next adventure! 

[tomcat]

yea, but it is also here

I added this thread from that conversation so the info would not be buried in past story threads.

[tomcat]

Esgalwen's two Undertakings will be Dale based:

1) Stay at the Missing Scale - she will return to the renowned establishment and enjoy more time among travelers and domestics alike.

A companion spending a Fellowship phase in Dale may choose this undertaking to gain the benefits of the Folk-lore specialty during the next Adventuring phase. If a character already has the Folk-lore specialty [she does], then they may gain two benefits out of a single trait invocation (e.g. they could automatically succeed at a roll and gain an Advancement point.)

2) Offer Counsel at the Royal Court - she will return to Bard's hall to offer any counsel and to be an embassy from Gondor [she meets the Wisdom req of 4 or higher].

By spending the Fellowship phase sitting in council with the King and his advisors, the hero earns the admiration of the people of Dale. Their Courtesy skill is considered to be favoured for the next year and their Standing in Dale counts as being 1 point higher.

I will add a concluding post later this weekend and will also be posting our introductory thread for our new chapter.

Here is her Weal and Woe roll:

Rolled 1d12 : 12, total 12

[tomcat]

Wow! A rune is revealed which is a Good Fortune! 

Paul, that Good Fortune is for you to decide per the Adventurer's Companion [page 136], or I will do it once I start up the new year's thread.

[tomcat]

Starlight.

Esgalwen looked to the heavens and smiled. The stars of Elbereth shined above and she was gladdened. The gloom of the forest, along with the winter cold, had made the journey across Mirkwood a struggle - but she was used to it now. She looked back at the cave-like hole in the forest where the Dwarf-road entered and wished everyone behind her good health and a safe winter.

She wondered if she would see them again.

Tate had started the journey with her in the early months before the Yule, but had been intrigued by the many stories he heard along the way. The Dwarves had many workers and each had a tale to tell of what they had seen. It was like a tonic to the minstrel - one of which he could not get enough. He had come to Esgalwen one morning, his face saddened.

"What is wrong, Tate? Has something happened?" she asked.

"No, Lady...I...well..."

"What is it?"

"Gwen - I believe I am going to stay."

"Wha...?" the words hit her hard. She had not expressed any feeling for Tate beyond the occasional flirt, but the truth was he meant something to her.

"The stories we have been told, Gwen. By Men and Dwarf alike, they are great and tell of heroic deeds. Think about it...what could be more heroic than opening the expanse of Mirkwood?"

Esgalwen's mouth, which she realized hung open, closed and she nodded.

"I have to stay," continued Tate. "I have to be a part of this."

She could see it hurt him to say, but Esgalwen nodded again, "Then stay you must...but I am moving on. It is what we both need to do."

Tate had watched Esgalwen ride away alongside a wagon filled with Dwarves headed back for Erebor. The minstrel was glad there was now a regular traffic across the breadth of Mirkwood, as he feared she still might have tried to go on alone. He watched until the woman atop her horse, riding alongside the wain, disappeared where the road bent.

She pulled her cloak tighter to her. Now outside the insulating trees, the wind cut sharper. They still had to travel at least thirty-three leagues before they would see the safety of Dale and Erebor, and the land was hard. The Long Marshes would be a wet, frozen, and muddy mess that was dangerous for both wagon and horse.

"We'll make camp," came the gruff voice of Dwonin - the teamster that drove the wain. He pointed to a a small hillock that rose from the frozen marshes. "Let's put the wagon to leeward and get out of this damnable wind."

Esgalwen thought it a good idea and smiled that even the hardiest of folks needed a break from the cold.

It took them a fortnight.

What should have taken much less became a trek of complications and struggle. The wain sunk into a bog and the Dwarves struggled at pulling it free. A winter storm blew up out of the East and caused them to have to stop for two days, while it passed, for fear of getting lost. And then there were trolls!

The large fell-creatures came on them one evening just after sundown - having followed the wagon's trail and then seeing the traveler's campfire. Nimronyn flashed in the night and Dwarven hammer and axes fell, but it was a battle sorely won. Dwonin - the party's lead - had been slain. The Dwarves cleaned his body and wrapped it in spare cloaks, laying it in the back of the wain as reverently as they could.

"He'll not be left here in these fens," said one Dwarf bitterly. Esgalwen shook in the bitter cold - adrenaline was leaving her body and the sweat and blood of battle chilled her to her core. She gave a nod to her fellow travelers and they moved on.

At long last, the lights of Dale could be seen as they glowed under the shadow of Erebor. It was here that the woman left her Dwarven companions, and though they had formed a bond, it was one of necessity more than friendship. They nodded to her and thanked her for aid in the crossing, and the wagon rolled north towards the mountain - the Dwarves hunched under heavy cloaks and hoods.

Esgalwen spurred her horse towards the city and a place she was certain would be warm and welcoming - the Missing Scale Inn.

She was not disappointed! A fire roared in the hearth and the ale was rich and frothy. The Ranger smiled as she sat down in one of the comfortable, padded chairs and relaxed. Her body was saddle-sore, but her heart was light. Little did she know the good fortune that would come and the life-changing events it would present.

More to follow... (as soon as Paul gives me a hint as to what that life-changing event will be, or if he passes that buck to me).