The Lowly and the Dead

[Eclecticon]

A pair of silver ear rings fashioned by one of the greatest silversmiths of the Third Age clink into the hands of a raft-elf.  Their recipient flashes a lopsided from at Laeral as he performs an elaborate bow and proffers the use of his raft.  Then he fairly dances away into the Elven Quarter, no doubt to trade his new possession for as much wine as he and his friends can drink.

Laeral cannot help but frown at the poor bargain as she and her companions board the raft.  It is, at least, wrought well enough that it does not tip as the Fellowship of the Helm boards.  By unspoken agreement, Hathcyn and Arbogast begin polling while Esgalwen and Laeral nock arrows, and slowly they make their way through the water gate and into the market pool.

Save only for the dead of night, none have ever seen the pool so quiet and still.  All who can, it seems, have left the water and those who have nowhere else to go have retreated to their boats.  Esgalwen catches a glimpse of one boatman huddled in his hull beneath a tarpaulin, a pike-pole clutched tight in his fists.

There are several openings between the town's piles large enough for the raft to fit though, and the companions examine a handful of them, shining their lanterns into the gloom looking for the telltale gleam of metal, before finding what they seek.  Some twelve yards in beneath the timbers of a looming warehouse rises an iron runged ladder, broad and attached to the stout piles, from the surface of the lake.  Above it is a wide trap door, obviously for large cargoes to be loaded into the store above.  Nearby, a series of thick planks, turned grey-green with mud and slime, and bearing clear signs of recent passage by many feet, lead off in a meandering path through the forest of sunken trunks beneath Lake-Town.

[Eclecticon]

Some quick Hunting rolls here:

Arbogast

1d12 : 2, total 2
Rolled 2d6 : 1, 4, total 5

Esgalwen

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

Hathcyn

1d12 : 7, total 7
Rolled 3d6 : 1, 6, 4, total 11

Laeral

1d12 : 7, total 7
Rolled 1d6 : 2, total 2

[Eclecticon]

The trail is clear enough for anyone to follow.  Hathcyn's practiced eyes, however, mark the passage of nigh a score different feet, and recently at that. 

[GandalfOfBorg]

"I am loathe to part the group to follow those tracks and climb up.  The way up is dangerous as the first through would be immediately marked and the position indefensible.  We know not where those print lead to but it is a more pressing issue if they be assailants.  Speak and choose quickly, we time is pressed."

[Telcontar]

  can the raft follow along or are the pillings too close together in some areas?

[Eclecticon]

The pilings are definitely too thick to follow the plank path directly.  They're placed a little haphazardly - thicker in some places where there's more weight to support, thinner in others.  You might be able to keep the path at least in view with an Explore test against TN 16. 

EDIT: I have added a picture to the earlier post for some handy-dandy visual reference.  It's also dark - not depths-of-Mirkwood dark, but under broad and uninterrupted cover on a cloudy day.  The lanterns definitely make it easier to see, but they also point you out to anyone watching from deeper under the timbers. 

[Telcontar]

  yeah the hooded lantern was so we could shine it in the dark spots and cover them while we moved about.

[Eclecticon]

Oh, it was definitely a good idea - I would've whacked penalties on your hunting role if you hadn't done that. 

[Telcontar]

"Should we take to the fish walk and have the archers cover us as they may from below? Perhaps we can set the lantern to a sliver of light so they mark our progress and attempt navigate the pillings?"

[Eclecticon]

Arbogast nods as Esgalwen and Laeral both ready their bows and quivers.  Then he climbs awkwardly on to the plank, taking a few short steps to test it before helping Hathcyn up after him.  The wood bows ever so slightly beneath the weight of the two Men, but seems sound enough.  The muck is slick underfoot, and their going is slow enough that Esgalwen, taking up the pole, can easily catch up. 

Then the plank-path turns rightwards, past a dense stand of pilings, and the paths of the two parties are forced to diverge.  Between the water and the wooden ceiling, all is silent as the Fire-watcher inches forward, shield raised, eyes searching the darkness for any sign of foes, and Hathcyn advances behind him, ready to use the reach of his spear to good effect.  Esgalwen poles the raft in a wide loop around the pilings as Laeral, arrow nocked, keeps the other two companions in sight as the light fades around them. 

Then, from deep beneath the shadow of Lake-Town comes an inhuman wail that rises far too slowly to a piercing shriek, and seems to seize the hearts of the companions and still the blood in their veins.  As his ears ring in the aftermath, Hathcyn hears Arbogast's plaintive whisper: "No... not again!" 


Fear tests:

Arbogast

1d12 : 12, total 12
Rolled 5d6 : 2, 6, 5, 5, 6, total 24

Esgalwen

1d12 : 9, total 9
Rolled 4d6 : 4, 3, 3, 3, total 13

Hathcyn

1d12 : 7, total 7
Rolled 2d6 : 6, 5, total 11

Laeral

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

[Eclecticon]

That's good rolling for everyone except Laeral,who can either spend a point of Hope (and wouldn't even be able to do that were it not for her magic ring) or be unable to spend Hope for the duration of the coming encounter. 

[Telcontar]

  firewatcher! Damn that's a Faramir like roll!

[Telcontar]

Hathcyns mind flashed to the Longhall in the woods. The twisted dead corpse of Uppalla beckoning him to be her husband in death came to his mind instantly. The terror fresh upon him once again as it had been that day in the wood. Even after all this time he felt the panic rise in him again. He shivered and he sweat at the same time after just hearing this noise.

Then his skin burned. He felt acutely all the wounds and scars he received from the hands if the Orcs. The healed wounds were like fire on his skin, the image of the Orcs hacking again on his fallen friend as he fought to save him. These would be additional horrors to anyone else but for Hathcyn they were courage. His hatred of the brutes, the animal nature of protecting the pack, and the deep call to war buried in his heart set him to grip his spear tight and summon fortitude.

His voice had growing strength in it as his old wounds burned and a desire to face and defeat this foe.

"I am with you Firewatcher, you do not stand alone. This time you and I shall have a tale to match that of the Wolfslayer's and take our own places among our people. And if it be an elf that tells the tale of our fall then lucky indeed we will be for its memory shall endure long."

[Eclecticon]

Matt, I just need a response about the Hope spend before I move the story on.

[Eclecticon]

Okay, based on observable past behaviour, I'm going to say that Laeral spends her Hope point.  New thread to follow, probably very early tomorrow morning (your time) because I have to be in court this morning (for work, just as an observer).