The Heart of the Bear-Folk

[Eclecticon]

I'll throw the thread open for people's reactions, and any specific preparations you want to make before you set out.  When you're ready, we'll start the first proper journey of this entire chapter!

[GandalfOfBorg]

For Gwaithlim, the politics of these lands are those of the men to settle and he will not weigh his mind in unless requested.  His role in these lands is to help ensure peace and security as a bulwark against The Shadow that grows in the East as it grows closer here and from the South as well.  These folk are his friends and he will stand by them as the Beornings are greatest means of stability these agents of chaos.

Now where is that winged chatterbox...

[Eclecticon]

Let's do a little retroactive rolling to see how well Gwaithlim's request to the birds was picked up.  The TN will be the standard 14 because there were plenty of birds around in the summer hills, but you were asking them to do something rather scary...

1d12 : 12, total 12
Rolled 2d6 : 4, 6, total 10

[Eclecticon]

Even as he so wonders, on a windswept rock many miles to the north and west a magpie nestles into a hollow.  Its message, given to it in tones felt as keenly and deeply as any command from a king of Men to his followers, it has delivered to the eagle that bore on its brow a crown of gold, though its heart trembled at the sight of that great sky-lord's sharp beak and cruel talons. 

Its mind is a simple thing by the reckoning of the Free Peoples, but were one who knows the tongue of the birds to ask it, it would say without doubt that it wishes no further part in the squabbles of the ground-dwellers, and of what the eagles will do in response to its second-hand plea it has neither wit nor care.  Long will it be before this bird again troubles itself to come close to those who go about the world on two feet! 

[GandalfOfBorg]

  And yet great was the elf's entreaty as is that little one's valour to make the journey.

[Eclecticon]

Righto, the Carrock is two days' travel pretty much a straight shot north of where the Beorning army is currently encamped.  Our party Guide (Gwaithlim) needs to make a Travel roll, and I'm bumping the TN up to 16 because you're moving through an area full of hostiles. 

1d12 : 7, total 7
Rolled 3d6 : 1, 5, 5, total 11

[Eclecticon]

Looks like something or other is going to happen when you're still some miles from the Carrock.  Let's see who's going to have to rise to the challenge:

1d6 : 6, total 6

[Eclecticon]

Looks like it's going to be Hathcyn, our Huntsman.  I'll get some text up, but it may not be until tomorrow morning (I have to go watch my daughter get an academic award tonight ).

EDIT:  Oh, I've also ticked off another AP for Gwaithlim based on his Folk Lore trait - I like the idea of him already knowing enough about the Beornings and their lands to be able to pick back ways to go that might not be as well-watched.   

[Eclecticon]

No sooner has dawn broken above the indistinct line of trees that stretches endlessly north and south on the horizon than the Fellowship of the Helm mounts up once again ready to ride forth to the spiritual seat of the line of Beorn.  Before they can gallop forth, however, Hathcyn hears his name called by a voice well-known from years gone by.  "Longspear!  Tarry a moment, if you'd be so kind!" 

"Harhold!" he answers as he beholds the companion of his youth.  Lined is his face now with the cares of manhood, and his hair has begun a long, slow retreat from his brow, but beneath it all is still the wry grin and mirthful glint in the eyes.  "It's good to see you again!" Hathcyn says.  "Tell me how you fare." 

"Oh, well enough, though not so well as you with your fancy helm and comely wife!  But that's not what I came to say."  The grin falls from his face as he continues.  "If half of what I hear about your adventures is true, then you're twice the man I'll ever be, and it may be that you need no words from a common cowherd to tell you your business.  But know this, oh Foresthelm: your friends of old have not forgotten you, and indeed many who once spat your name now say with pride that they knew you as a youth!  They, and I, wonder at each new deed of yours that comes to us in tales and song, but we know, as maybe few do, that a man of flesh and blood is behind it all, and we'd sooner lose all future songs than lose the man." 

"Listen, old friend..." Hathcyn begins, but Harhold interrupts him. 

"Word has gone round the camp of what you intend.  I know of the feud between yourself and Viglund.  But I pray you, don't let it consume you!  Let him go rather than perish yourself!" 

The words strike deep into the Longspear, who recalls darker days when friends were few, and far between.  He looks from Harhold to where his newer companions wait, all full of patience, for his readiness to ride.  At last, he kicks the flanks of his horse, and the sudden pounding of hooves drowns out his response. 

Will he or nil he, he knows that fate draws him northward, to issue his challenge and see it through. 


Something a little different, in that this challenge happens before your journey even really starts.  Hathcyn needs to make a Valour roll (TN 16 as before) or lose a point of Hope as his confidence is shaken.  If he gets a he'll be temporarily Miserable until the start of the holmgang. 

1d12 : 12, total 12
Rolled 4d6 : 3, 6, 4, 6, total 19

Tom, feel free to expand on the scene above, and/or Hathcyn's thoughts on the matter, as you see fit. 

[Eclecticon]

But it looks like he's come through the test with flying colours, at least!

[Telcontar]

  the norns are still with him.

More to follow

[Telcontar]

The beast stamped it's feet and turned, causing Hathcyn to make a full turn with the horse.

"Harhold, old comrade! Yes, I assure you I am only too keenly aware that I am still but flesh and blood."

He steadied the horse again. "Dear friend, I say to you truly I do not ride out in wrath. I have already tried once to make peace with my Wife-father but failed. I go out to try again. To end this feud between us, and perhaps even among our people. I go to challenge Viglund, but my offer is to embrace him as a father or as a foe. The choice shall be is on which it is. Either way I hope that this challenge will buy our people time in the least or peace in the most far desperate hope."

The horse stamped again.

"I must ride, the beast itself is anxious to be off. Harhold, I ride now for peace, but if I should fall then half of my cattle are yours and your fair wife, and the rest shall pass to my own. Farewell old friend may we meet again in better times."

The horse could no longer be restrained and Hathcyn gave the beast its lead and it thundered after its companions.

[Eclecticon]

Many miles pass beneath the hooves of the Fellowship's steeds as northward they race, passing through familiar lands recast into new and dreadful form, for the wargs of the mountains and the followers of Viglund have each taken their opportunity to ravage and despoil.  Their way passes many farmsteads, for though this is the land across the wide Anduin still this is the heart of the country that Beorn claimed for his folk, and yet in almost every one beasts lie half-devoured and now rot in the sun.  No sign of the inhabitants of these places can be seen as they ride past, though the sense of timid eyes upon them is difficult to shake. 

At long last, as their weary mounts pick their way along a ridge in the waning light of the late afternoon, the Carrock comes at last into sight, its sheer sides shining golden as a bright fire.  Even from hundreds of yards away it is plain that the small island is inhabited, for the smoke of cook-fires rises already from the low shore beneath the great stone and small boats have been heaved ashore nearby. 

"I reckon on not more than twenty of them, judging by their fires," Esgalwen says, after a moment's calculation, "though likely a handful more atop the Carrock itself."  Turning to the others, she adds "I'd as soon keep the earth between them and us and keep ourselves unknown for now, though we shall need to announce ourselves soon." 
 

Aaaaaaaaaaand we're back!  Sorry as usual to keep you guys waiting so long - let's see how much of a run I can manage this time!   

[Telcontar]

"Our goal is to distract them away from their main goal and cause confusion. We have marched to their tune and now we must pull them to our own. But let us keep this night to ourselves, learn what we can, and challenge them in the morning."

The Longspear dismounted, "shall we make camp?"

[GandalfOfBorg]

"We must be wary lest we run afoul of one of their bounders or sentinels.  Let us find a place both defensible and out of the way if we can."

Explore -  1d12 : 11, total 11
Rolled 2d6 : 2, 6, total 8