Wuduseld

[Eclecticon]

Woodland Hall has changed but little since last the Fellowship set foot inside the settlement.  Wuduseld itself stands proudly clear of the nearby trees like a sentinel tower for all the Woodmen.  About it, storehouses, workshops and the dwellings of prosperous inhabitants cluster together by the cut-away sides of the central hill, or on the gentler slopes closer to the trees. 

The watchers in the lookout-towers call out in challenge as the small party arrives, their feet weary and their horses' coats full of burrs, but upon hearing the names of the new arrivals they make them welcome and send a young runner to gather the elders in the great hall.  There, before the great and carven doors they are met by a friendly face, and one that for Grimbeorn especially brings back happier memories.  Standing upon the front steps, her wedding finery swapped for a homespun gown and a child of perhaps three winters hefted on her hip, but with a smile as inviting as it was years ago, Verwyne daughter of Vingal, once of the folk of the Sunstead, greets them. 

"Well met, friends of my people," she says, performing a lop-sided curtsey with considerable aplomb.  Turning then to Grimbeorn, she adds "We have heard even here of the tragedy that followed your wedding day, and were greatly saddened by the tale."


I'm just throwing this open for any RP you guys want to do before we press on to the grimmer business of the day.   

[GandalfOfBorg]

Try as he might, he could not deny her a look of pain at that memory, of his last memory of the woman before him, and of all the trials that have come from them. A muffled "thank you" was all he gave but quickly brushed it aside.  "We thank you for your hospitality, but will not be long, as we must meet with your husband with earliest convenience.  My friend, Arbogast, if you recall, of the Black Tarn and his people are in dire need of assistance.  Will you see us in?"

[tomcat]

Standing upon the front steps, her wedding finery swapped for a homespun gown and a child of perhaps three winters hefted on her hip, but with a smile as inviting as it was years ago, Verwyne daughter of Vingal, once of the folk of the Sunstead, greets them.

What a great call back! I am bummed that the old data has been purged and we no longer have her picture. I guess Brandon purged some of the old attachments from our games. I will have some content added tonight.

[Telcontar]

Hathcyn felt keenly each passing hour. He knew the council of men was slow to move, but realized too just he and his companions could not turn the tide. So remained patient but deliberate.

[Eclecticon]

Got anything for us, Doug? Otherwise I'll move the story on in a few hours.

[Eclecticon]

"My husband?" asks Verwyne, momentarily confused.  "Oh, but you are mistaken!  Aodhan, my husband, is surely a respected man, and many of his carvings adorn our hall, but he is not among the elders of the House.  But if you speak truly, now is hardly the time for such trifles!  Come.  I bid you enter Wuduseld as its free and honoured guests."  After curtseying once again, she passes through the great portal that stands ajar to let in the cool and fresh air of the evening, the companions following at her heels. 

All anticipate the half-light within after the still-bright sky without, but as he passes over the threshold Hathcyn finds himself unable to suppress a grin of amazement at the grandeur of the famed hall.  For everywhere he looks, clever carvings abound so that it seems that barely a single surface can be found that does not bear some cunningly-wrought device, or depict some tale forgotten by all Men save those that dwell within these high-gabled walls.  He finds himself wondering whether, perhaps, the building and passing of the dwellings and forts beyond the edge of the forest might be recorded here, and some lore-speaker found to put names to the kings and heroes of old whose likenesses now stand in mute record on walls, beams, pillars and transoms, so finely wrought by Aodhan and those who preceded him that the flickering of firelight and shadow gives them the semblance of life and motion. 

Esgalwen, too, finds herself drawn to the carvings, her heart whispering to her that here is a reason, should she give in to it, to set aside her cares, leave the battle to come to more war-like hearts and learn what must be a history to fascinate and enthral one who has ventured far and learned those of many peoples. 

Little time can either spare for the beholding, however, for Grimbeorn, having paused to lay Bear Claw by the threshold in the care of the doorwarden, strides forth to where the elders are taking their seats around the hearth.  There, meat, salt and ale are given and greetings exchanged.  Ingomer Axebreaker is last to take his seat, and it is clear to the the Ranger and the Bear's Son that he is a man diminished from when they first beheld him at the folk-moot, just as their own stars have risen.   His three-score years he carries heavily, and not until he has shifted uncomfortably in his carven chair for some moments does he raise his eyes to look to the three travellers.  With a clear sigh, he speaks.  "Hail to you, who have crossed miles to come here.  Would that you bore better news, or that I did not suspect already what you should ask of us." 


We're starting an Encounter, with all that that entails.  Let's do some opening Insight rolls:

Esgalwen

1d12 : 9, total 9
Rolled 2d6 : 4, 4, total 8

Grimbeorn

1d12 : 12, total 12
Rolled 3d6 : 1, 3, 6, total 10

Hathcyn

1d12 : 1, total 1
Rolled 3d6 : 2, 2, 4, total 8

[Eclecticon]

That's two bonus dice for Grimbeorn, one for Esgalwen and none for Hathcyn unless he should choose to drop a Hope point on the roll.  AP:

I'll leave it up to you guys to choose whether and how you want to make your introductions.  Esgalwen and Grimbeorn can both see that Courtesy is the easiest way to go here.  Grimbeorn, with his excellent roll, has grokked that, though the other elders will speak and offer their opinions, Ingomer is absolutely the one in charge here.  The others will go along with his decision. 

[Telcontar]

  Hathcyn is too busy contemplating how to decorate his own mead hall with wood carvings.

[GandalfOfBorg]

"We thank you for your hospitality and invitation to your hall," says Grimbeorn with a slight bow.  "You or most of you know me as one of action and little word and you have other cares to dealt with so I will keep this short."

"If you haven't already heard rumor, if not direct word, of the matter, but the Black Tarn is under siege by a host of goblins and we ride to their aid.  My friend, nay brother, and companion, is a leader of this folk and one of those who helped in securing the arrival of Verwyne to this town and her betrothed.  Our presence here and my personal request is for your assistance in as it may come: relief for a war-torn village but, most desperately at the moment, men willing to ride lightly and with haste on a mission of mercy.  Can we count on your support?"


This dice roll has been tampered with!
Courtesy -  1d12 : 5, total 5
Rolled 2d6 : 1, 4, total 5

[GandalfOfBorg]

 
No it wasn't tampered with, posted message right after someone else.

Well, that was uninspiring, so I will go for broke with the bonus dice.

 

Bonus 2d6 : 1, 5, total 6

[tomcat]

Nice - that gives Grimbeorn a success (if our TNs are 14).

I will also make a Courtesy roll and call on her Folk-lore trait that helps in customs of people. Narrative will follow based on my roll result.

Sorry for not getting anything on the boards until now - I threw out my back over the weekend and have been in a muddled state of mind due to muscle relaxers and anti-inflammation medicines.

TN -- courtesy 2d

1d12 : 5, total 5
Rolled 2d6 : 5, 3, total 8

[tomcat]

I too will throw in an advantage die.

Rolled 1d6 : 1, total 1

[tomcat]

LOL! What a way to crawl across the finish line...
Esgalwen stood near at hand to Grimbeorn, deferring to him the lead of communicating with Ingomer but letting the elders know, too, that she was part of this entreaty. When he finished, Esgalwen presenter herself to the master of the house, "Master Ingomer, it is a pleasure to once more be within your storied hall! Far have I traveled and many things I have seen, but naught else moves my heart like the warmth of your home."

Time was short, she knew, and her grim companion was quick and to the point in his request. Esgalwen worried as to how it would be received, but it was quickly evident that Ingomer appreciated straight words that came direct. She followed in kind, "The Black Tarn is in peril and the clans must unite as was the compact agreed upon in Rhosgobel not long ago. If Ingomer Axebreaker answers this call alongside Men of the Carrock, then surely will the folk of the southern clans - Woodmen Town and Rhosgobel - lest they be named oathbreakers all.

"If only to win passage for Amaleoda's folk to escape would our efforts be heralded, but should we win the day and save the Tarn... that would be remembered, and sang of by the bards, for generations of Men!"

[tomcat]

I think her last words are an attempt at inspiring, so I will add a roll for that to our mix. 

TN -- Inspire 2d

1d12 : 11, total 11
Rolled 2d6 : 2, 2, total 4

[tomcat]

F&@%!

So much for Esgalwen's string of luck. Even with a AND an advantage die, I do not think I can pull that crap roll out of the shitter.

I will roll another test after I see what Matt might offer, or what dialogue might come from the Master of the House.
Ingomer shifted in his seat and it was plain that the Ranger's words did not win support in her request. Maybe her accusation of "oathbreakers" was too harsh? Maybe her demand came too soon after the Beorning's? Esgalwen waited a moment before speaking again to see if the old Master's demeanor would change, or if Grimbeorn might save her plea.