The Loyalty of Men

[Eclecticon]

No name adorns the sign of the inn in which the Beorning thegns have gathered at the call of their æthling, save for two carven and painted eels.  The common room is dim, lit only by a hearth well-banked to last the night through and to warm the room sufficiently for the comfort of those who wear thick furs and golden rings.  But for the five Men gathered by the hearth, the small inn is empty, their entourages having been dismissed for the evening to permit candid discussion and the innkeeper's family retreating to their own quarters once their guests' comfort has been assured. 

Once brief pleasantries are exchanged, the four thegns lean back in their chairs, awaiting the word of the Wolf-slayer. 


Over to you, Matt. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

"Thank you for joining me this evening.  Before we discuss the proposals of the council, which you're all quite aware, except you maybe you brother, who seems to nod after every good meal," Grimbeorn said nudging Baldarn, a particularly large and old thegn of a most honorable family of the Vales, "I need to speak to you of the dangers of this land, particularly to this town.  You know most of what happened to me and my companions in the forest upriver from here and that is a threat mostly dispatched but one that elven king is aware of as well.  What dangers most don't know of come from within here, Dale, and possibly from the men of the East.  I have it on good authority that there is evil afoot and it is nigh.  I would ask that you set your men about the streets in twos to help keep an eye upon the town.  My companions are now, as we speak, are following word something amiss near the docks and warehouses."

"Yet these are present concerns.  What I hope you will take to heart is that these concerns of evil drawing near not only affect our relations with those of Dale, the dwarves, and Lake-town, but also on our side of the Great Wood.  We must remain vigilant against the darkness of men that would creep into our lands and homes.  Yes, the Vigs and the orcs of the north and west are still a threat of sorts, but we cannot falter at home either.  The ties that bind us will be put to the test ere some greater darkness threaten us.  I fear our recent encounters are but skirmishes at the edge of something greater.  Gondor knows it all too well, my brothers."

[Eclecticon]

I'm tempted to make this a full Encounter, but I don't want it to drag on and leave the rest of the group hanging.  Since Grimbeorn is only really asking them to do one thing right now, I'll treat this as an Inspire roll.  As you mentioned gauging the thegns' loyalty and reliability, I'll also do an Insight roll to see what he can glean from their reaction.  Sound good?

Inspire

1d12 : 11, total 11
Rolled 2d6 : 3, 3, total 6

Insight

1d12 : 6, total 6
Rolled 3d6 : 6, 2, 6, total 14

[Eclecticon]

An... interesting result.  The Inspire roll is obviously a bust, but the Insight did really well.  What's more, that last has resulted in a Revelation episode - for a brief moment, the Shadow's attention has fallen very much on Grimbeorn. 

I'm going to say that, in the absence of a more physical threat, it's going to work away at his soul, gnawing at its weak spots.  He will need to make a Wisdom roll against TN 18 or suffer a bout of madness with all that that implies - including the potential for a permanent Shadow point. 

Matt, since this is a pretty important roll for Grimbeorn, I'd like you to make it.  I'll post some narrative to set it up.  You can follow and tell us all how it pans out. 

[Eclecticon]

There is an uncomfortable silence from the thegns, and an exchange of what they clearly believe to be surreptitious glances.  Finally, old Walcaud speaks.  "Master Grimbeorn, we'll do what we can, but you have to understand that we brought but few men with us.  Nor do they know the town well.  Oh, their hearts are stout, but I know not how they shall tell friend from foe in this unfamiliar place." 

On he goes, making excuse after excuse, and Grimbeorn's heart is gripped by a sudden cold fury at this man who would treat him as a child to be dismissed with empty promises.  Is he not the son of his father, who slew left and right at the Battle of the Five Armies and gave his laws unto this rude folk? 

And here is Æthelwold, rolling his eyes and looking away as if embarrassed to receive the entreaties of he who slew the Werewolf!  Claudas, who has grown soft and fat while his kinsmen defend him against Viglunding raiders!  Baldarn, who even now sleeps (or pretends to) while matters of great import are discussed!  What use are these men? 

And here is Wulfdan Broken-jaw, who waxed wrothful against Hathcyn at the Feast of the Moon years ago.  Wulfdan, whose clan has held fast against the Viglundings, fighting off raiders.  Or so they claim, for none have ever spoken of their men suffering wounds, and never has the smoke of pyres been seen by their halls or in their pastures, nor have mounds been raised for their own dead.  Wulfdan, who now bears a ring on his finger, and a torc about his neck, that were wrought by no Northman's hand.  Wulfdan, who will not meet Grimbeorn's wrathful gaze. 

What is the son of Beorn to do with such a man? 

[GandalfOfBorg]

  None of that dice-roller lovin' for Grimbeorn, eh?  Such as his lot in life. Here goes nothing given he needs a 12 to succeed...

Wisdom -  2d6+5 : 1, 1 + 5, total 7

[GandalfOfBorg]

"You dare speak to me like that?  As if I were a stripling of only a few winters?  I came here seeking lords of Men to do this city and its people a favor as a show of solidarity.  They have seen worse days than we could hope to and it is as if I asked for the world for you to set men about to lend aid as they can.  But no, I only hear faint platitudes and so-called reasons to abandon our allies.  Seems as though I should seek counsel of your women.  Apparently they are the ones with the strength and foresight seeing as they must deal with your limp excuses for... thegnship," said Grimbeorn, dripping with disdain.  "If I must make it an order, I will, but search yourselves, you know these folk are not fully recovered from the dragon and are not prepared for something that comes in the manner I spoke."

[Eclecticon]

Matt, I'm not sure what's happening here.  This:

This dice roll has been tampered with!
Wisdom -  2d6+5 : 1, 1 + 5, total 7

isn't the right kind of roll, so I'm not sure if Grimbeorn has succumbed to a bout of madness or is just unloading a bit. 

Remember that you roll the Feat die (1d12) plus a number of d6 equal to your character's Wisdom.   

[Eclecticon]

Matt, would you like me to do the Wisdom roll?

[GandalfOfBorg]

  Ooops just saw the issue, don't know why that went through, thought I fixed it...

Wisdom -  1d12 : 9, total 9
Rolled 5d6 : 6, 3, 5, 4, 2, total 20

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn is unloading on them.  Both being Hardened and Furious lend to his little tolerance to the pedantic quibbling, disseminating, and wilting against a call to show their honor.  Think Worf   

[Eclecticon]

Grimbeorn's outburst is so shockingly loud in the small common room that the thegns, hardened warriors all, fall silent.  Each reacts according to his nature: Walcaud level and considering, Claudas in affronted shock, Æthelwold's brows drawing together as a wrathful rebuke gathers, Baldarn picking himself up after falling from his chair.  Only Wulfdan holds the gaze of the Wolfslayer, and it is his words, not Æthelwold's, that come as the answer to Grimbeorn.  "Well, then.  If it is a matter of our manhood, then let us hasten to assist these eastern Men, who have grown richer than we who dwell by the banks of the Anduin could hope to!" 

The other thegns begin to nod their agreement as he continues.  "But mark my words, we must expect their equal favour in return for our assistance.  For war has now been at our doorsteps for some years, while your father grumbles and farts behind his great hedge.  If he will not raise his banner and bring the war to Viglund, then let us see whether the warrior kings and adventurous Men of this place will fight alongside us." 

He stands, ostentatiously brushing himself down as if to rid himself of some lingering residue of Grimbeorn's anger.  "Come, my friends.  Let us keep counsel among ourselves.  I am sure that our æthling has ghosts or some such to slay." 

[GandalfOfBorg]

Grimbeorn grits his teeth, restraining another outburst and retort, and growls.  "Father, how is it that you stand these poor excuses.  Their standing and wealth has made them soft and petty.  Their own fathers wouldn't recognize them," he thinks.

"Go if you must, but send me the men that are to watch the town; I will arrange their guardianship. If nothing else, I am grateful for that."