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The Wife-Geld of Aestid

Started by Eclecticon, Jan 03, 2024, 02:30 PM

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tomcat

:ooc: Sorry, busy all day. I will respond tomorrow.
Narrator: Darkening of Mirkwood | Chronicle of the North | Tempest Rising | To Boldly Go | Welcome to the 501st!
Esgalwen [♦♦♦♦♦○] Dmg 10/12  |  Edge 8  |  Injury 16/18
Nimronyn [Sindarin Pale gleam] superior keen, superior grievous longsword - orc bane
Foe-slaying - when attacking a bane creature, reduce Edge of weapon by value of bearer's Valour

Shadow bane [when in Forward stance, add 1 success die to each attack]
Skirmisher [if carried encumbrance is 12 or less, increase Parry by +3 when in close combat stance]

tomcat

The lady of Gondor looked off to a point in the sky, as Hathcyn spoke. She listened intently, but her mood was foul.

"He is Mogdred, who was once named Ingold, and he is the son of Ingomer - chief among the elders of Woodland Hall. When he was young, he went with a hunting party into the forest. They were waylaid by orcs and Ingold was taken prisoner. He and others of the party who survived suffered long in the prisons of Dol Guldur. When the power of that dark place was broken, these prisoners escaped their torture and found refuge in a broken tower. A place called Amon Bauglir. Over time, more refugees of Dol Guldur came to this place - forgotten and untrusted souls.

"Well, when the Folk-moot of 2949 was called, I was newly arrived in the Vale. I met Ingold - now Mogdred. We spent time together... I lived among his people for a short time. Do not get me wrong, it was not a romantic interest, but one of common situation. He was lost from his folk, me from mine." Hathcyn looked at Esgalwen's face and he was not sure if she spoke truth or not, for her face had changed as she spoke of the man.

"Anyway," she continued, "I had traveled south again to Minas Tirith. It took many long months. I almost died. When home, I spoke before the lords of Gondor and requested aid for the Vale... for Mogdred in particular. I thought I saw in him an ally. A redeemable man who, with some help, could be a great leader here. A good leader."

Esgalwen stood up and pitched a stone that she held. It plopped into the river. She said gruffly, "I was wrong."

To his other question, Esgalwen looked to where Viglund and his party had gone - to tents and their spoils. Again she spoke with no emotion, "You will have to fight him, Hathcyn. And you will have to kill him. Let them get fat and lazy with their spoils, while we see to this challenge at the Ford. Once removed, we can come back here and take back what is Grimbeorn's. We shall return with such fire and rage that every Vig will be driven from this region unto the northern wastes, so as to not threaten this land again."

PLOP!

The second stone she held disappeared into the cold, dark river.
Narrator: Darkening of Mirkwood | Chronicle of the North | Tempest Rising | To Boldly Go | Welcome to the 501st!
Esgalwen [♦♦♦♦♦○] Dmg 10/12  |  Edge 8  |  Injury 16/18
Nimronyn [Sindarin Pale gleam] superior keen, superior grievous longsword - orc bane
Foe-slaying - when attacking a bane creature, reduce Edge of weapon by value of bearer's Valour

Shadow bane [when in Forward stance, add 1 success die to each attack]
Skirmisher [if carried encumbrance is 12 or less, increase Parry by +3 when in close combat stance]