FELLOWSHIP PHASE - The Interregnum

[Telcontar]

 
I have spent 12 Advancement Points to get two ranks in Courtesy.
I have spent 16 Experience to gain Valour 5 and the reward Noble Armor.


I think these match the story pretty well too. I debated taking another die in Spears, but I wanted to broaden what I can do with Hathcyn and he seems to be moving out of his brash warrior face and into is Thane Leader phase.

Though now that I am thinking about it do your think there should be a Valour award like Companions? Something that represetns that he has loyal men about him or is that making something mechanical that is narrative? 

[GandalfOfBorg]

Gwaithlim increases 1 in Song, Bows, and Wisdom (Might of the First-born being his virtue).

Undertaking continues to be Make a Song, the song of honor to Grimbeorn.

 

Song- 1d12 : 2, total 2
Rolled 3d6 : 1, 4, 2, total 7

[GandalfOfBorg]

Gwaithlim recovers from the ordeal at the hill but his spirit wanes in these charges.  He cannot even concentrate on the idle, yet great, task of song-writing for the renowned skin-changer and father of his friend.  There are calls in the air above from gulls that have traveled up the Anduin and his heart yearns for Imladris and moreso a pull even further into the West.  Even being torn, he still commits himself to the support of his friend for the time being with improvement and embellishment of the Fox's Tale.

He pulls himself out of his introspection and melancholy enough to join the others with tankard and cup.  Sitting down at the end of the table, he just watches and listens, mostly keeping an eye on his distant kin.  All too flighty this one, most young and yet so thin too, he muses.  When she speaks up of the need for merriment and song amidst the dour talk, he doesn't disagree wholly for all too well he knows that those are the things most memorable and should be cherished while they can.

"It won't be long now..." he hears in his mind. It was a voice he hadn't heard in some time -- Elrond, his old friend and lord.  What won't be? he puzzles for a moment, but returns to the conversation at hand.

[Eclecticon]

I have spent 16 Experience to gain Valour 5 and the reward Noble Armor.

Don't forget that his helm also has further qualities that can be unlocked with a Valour increase (or other means, but that's what we're talking about at the moment).

[Eclecticon]

Undertaking continues to be Make a Song, the song of honor to Grimbeorn.

Not to nag, but if you want to open the Fox's Tale as a Sanctuary, then everyone needs to do it at the same time.  Beyond the physical and social work of ensuring that they're welcome and it is equipped to take care of their needs, the fact of the Fellowship all working together is part of what turns out into a second home for you all.

If you want to stick with the song writing, though, I understand.  It's your character and your share of the narrative, not my story to bully you along!

[GandalfOfBorg]

  Ah, gotcha... forgot about that quirk of the undertaking.  I'll change the undertaking then.

[Telcontar]

I have spent 16 Experience to gain Valour 5 and the reward Noble Armor.

Don't forget that his helm also has further qualities that can be unlocked with a Valour increase (or other means, but that's what we're talking about at the moment).

You are the only one that knows how it works. 

[tomcat]

I'm happy to keep this scene going if people are enjoying it, but also don't forget to do the mechanical stuff.

I believe all of Esgalwen's mechanical stuff is complete.

As for the scene, it can continue at need. I just ended my post with her question, as it seems a very female thing to ask and that conversation could spin well into the night, and I assume it will outside of play. But if everyone is ready, play may continue to our next chapter.

[Eclecticon]

Alright then, I'll wind this one up and we'll move on to the next exciting episode.

[Eclecticon]

Esgalwen will be banking her points from this Adventure phase. I will have an undertaking narrative up later.

I will take the Receive Title undertaking assuming that it will be given from the Beornings (not the Woodmen). Esgalwen will gladly take a small tract of land to build her home and begin to tend the land, when she is present.

• Her Standing score is not that great, but she will work on that. It now measures her repute among the Beornings.
• She may now affect the narration of a Year's End Fellowship phase as if she belongs to the Culture.
• During  a Fellowship phase within the home settlement of the Beornings, her score is not reduced, as if she returned home (see Standing Upkeep on page 193).
• Esgalwen is granted a tract of land or a house to dwell upon. The size and features of the land or
house are proportionate to her Martial Standard of Living.

Doug, I somehow missed this the first time through.  I won't repeat my grumpy comment from earlier, but as with Matt I'm happy to do this at the end of the year?  The opportunity will still be there - the Beornings have lost a lot of good people and I doubt Grimbeorn would turn away someone of Esgalwen's fame and skill who wanted to settle on his lands!

[Telcontar]

Well she just so happens to know a Thane that needs households to increase his lands and resources to maintain the entry to the forest road.

[Telcontar]

The Fox's Tale served two purposes, one a tavern to cater to the travelers who came and went along the forest road. Skilled swordsmen and trained waggoneers were found there as well as men of other trades that supported the caravan bussiness. Additionally, the Fox's Tale held the hall of the Thane of the Forestgate, the Green Stone Land. It was in the hall that Hathcyn sat, Aestid had been the chief architect of this room. She had a great chair carved by Woodmen that bore the design of foxes dancing and running along the beams of the chair, and to the keen-eyed mice could be seen running and hiding in the corners. She was keen and shrewd and many favors could be traded by the craftsmen who traveled through for the better enrichment of Hathcyn's Hall and this chair was another.

He held a tankard in his hand and still dwelt on the conversations of the previous night. Ætheldreám had spoken her thoughts and her experiences, but this land was different from hers. Yes, they could build watch towers, but who would man them? They did not have an army like the lords of the south. They had men who agreed to service who were forced to set aside their other labors and struggle for survival. Also those lords of the south had not started with beacons, first they had built their towers and their places of refuge, and then later a system to alert the people.

Brooding in his chair it was a moment before he noticed Aestid standing before him watching him think.

"Welcome back among us has the cunning fox has been resigned to brooding?"

He sighed, "Every day I understand Beorn and Grimbeorn better."

"Such cares for such a simple man," she said as she smiled she waved over to the end of the hall. A bundle wrapped in cloth was brought forward.

"I did not know that this was the nature that children came into the world, if so this is a quiet one."
Aestid laughed, "you'll need to stay in your hall longer and for greater lengths if that is your goal. But I am not here to goad or chastise you husband. My words last night were not in idleness. If you are to be a thane, then be a thane."

She unwrapped the package untying the knots and opening the covering cloth. Inside was oiled and bright leather armor. The cloth revealed the red brass wire of a fox worked into the breastplate, the leather where the ties joined the pieces contained embossed mice, the ties their tales.

"Here husband is a gift for you. Armor fit for one far nobler than an ale house keeper. Even the King of Dale would recognize the worth of a man who wore this armor. As you wear it the men of the world will see you how I see you, noble and lordly and the tanning of it incudes my love to guard you from the troubles and darts of your foes."

********************************

The hall that night was filled with friends and allies. Hathcyn did not desire to descend into a brooding mind but instead through force of will struck out against the darkness by filling his hall with light and sound. Bards who had spent their days in the tavern now stood in the hall and attempted to impress the Foresthelm and his guests with tales of the Fellowship of the Helm. Great tales, the slaying of the Werewolf, the Parliament of the Spiders, the Redemption of the River Daughter, and the last and newest tale, the Holmgang that wasn't.
Hathcyn sat in his chair laughing and making jokes at his own expense and laughing out loud in humility at his own memories being told back to him exaggerated and unbelieving even to himself. His new armor was on display and stood by his chair, his old armor careworn and battered stood on the other side. He had called the party a mourning event for the retirement of his old armor as he sent, in the ancient custom, to his lord Grimbeorn. There to rest in his armory a token or a boon to another who sought to serve.

Hathcyn sat upon his chair, hair combed and shone in the light, by his side stood Aestid, dark haired and radiant, and at his feet sat the hound Sardoc. A man strode with purpose before the Foresthelm. He was dressed as if geared for battle, scale mail armor glinting in the lights of the hall. A worn and battered sword at his side. To the crowd this was unexpected, but Hathcyn seemed little phased by this.

The man approached and stopped before the chair. He drew his sword and placed the blade upon the lap of Hathcyn and kneeled before him. Sardoc rose and sniffed at the man, the beast seemed to communicate to Hathcyn, sniffed the man again and then lay back down. The hall was silent and Aestid spoke.
"Here is Cerwyck of the North, a blade from the land of Viglund."

The man looked at the floor and spoke, "Foresthelm, truly I once fought with Viglund. I was there when his hall was burned at your hand. I swore vengeance for that deed, but I repent. Afterwards I came south when we heard how you had spared the folk of your wife. I came south to better know you and my lady Aestid. To her I would pledge my blade, but I see here also a thane worthy of men. I seek your pardon and patronage."

Aestid spoke, "Foresthelm, when the raiders came Cerwyck stood at your door with the Firewatcher. He was streadfast and true while others, less brave, worried what was to come he stood ready and brave at your door. Many of those here were there, do any challenge my word in this?"

There was silence in the hall. None would challenge the Lady Aestid in her own hall, but more so because the words were true.

Hatchyn looked at the naked sword blade in his lap. He returned it to Cerwyck and was handed another sword by Aestid. The glit of gold inlay shown in the wrapping of the hilt, and a golden ring passed through the pommel and hung at it's side.

"Cerwyck the Twice Loyal take this ringsword and be bound to my house. Stand now, Door Warden of the Greenstone."

Hathcyn presented this new sword to him wrapped in new oiled leather. The man kissed the golden ring and stood. There before the assembled hall Aestid the Lady of the North gird him with the ringsword of Hathcyn Foresthelm, Thane of the Greenstone Land. The first Hearthcarl had been sworn to his service.   

 
Visit the Treasury: Return the Armor with 2 Qualities to the Armory. 1 will go into the new armor, the second into the helm. Standing increase.
I think this matches with the story as it developed over the last chapter and the direction of the narrative.

[tomcat]

That was very cool!

[tomcat]

Esgalwen had enjoyed the festivities of the night. She laughed at the bawdy tales spun by the bards; she danced to the music of the Vale; and she partook in the fine food that Hathcyn had laden his tables with for his guests.

From her place in the room, she watched as the first of Hathcyn's Hearthcarls made his vow, and her heart was warm. Again she thought about how much Hathcyn had changed. With a quick thought, before the hall returned to the cacophony of music and laughter, she walked up before the seat of her friend.

Hathcyn and Aestid looked at the woman of Gondor as she approached, her own sword was in hand. The hall became hushed as Esgalwen placed the scabbarded sword on Hathcyn's lap, to his surprise.

"Thane of the Greenstone Land, Hathcyn Foresthelm! I present you with Nimronyn, Pale-gleam, the sword of Gondor. Forgive me, lord, for it is not bared but I find myself unable to make such simple things happen at this time." There was a bubble of laughter across the hall for all could see that Esgalwen's arm was still bound from her wound.

She continued, "I have seen you grow, my friend - from simple man of the Vale, to renowned warrior, builder of inns, keeper of animals, husband, leader, and now Thane of Grimbeorn, scion of Beorn; and Watcher of the Eastern Vale and the Forest Road.

"It has been offered in service to Grimbeorn, master of the land of the Beornings; to the King of Dale; and to the Lord Under the Mountain; but here I offer it, too - should you ever be at need and I am able of body to aid you, the sword, Nimronyn, shall be yours."

Esgalwen was not sure what the gesture would mean to her friend - he already knew that he could count on her aid in all things - but she wanted the offer to be displayed before all his folk, as well as those travelers within his hall. Let them carry the news forth that Gondor would stand beside her friends.

[Telcontar]

"Ætheldreám, I have no need to see this sword nor lay it in my lap. I would know this sword as I would know my own hand. Not least of all the tales we have heard this night has this sword figured. To all present the song of this blade may be heard in the fore or in the chorus of every tale that has been told tonight. The blade does honor to its craftsman, but it redoubles onto its wielder. However, your duties are to other lords so I cannot command you, I have no ring sword for you."

A murmur rose in the hall at this comment from Hathcyn, this was unexpected.
 
He raised his free hand. "I may not command you, but yet I may still honor you. I owe service to the Great Bear, the Wolfslayer. I am the Banner Bearer of the Bear of Beorn such is the duty that I may be called to fullfil. So, Ætheldreám, Sword of the Anduin, I can not bind you to me in this way as you are sworn to him as well. Instead, I name you Rightmost Shield of the Greenstone.  Should the Bear call us to war and I to take his banner you shall lead my retinue and have command of my fyrd in war.  I also lay upon you the authority to assemble the fyrd as Warchief of the Greenstone."

Hathcyn returned the sword but labored at his hand a moment.

"I may not give you a ringsword, but I can give you this as a token of your office and service to this place."
He held up the fox ring and it shone like red fire in the light, "Here is the golden red fox ring crafted by the dwarves of Long Lake. I intended it to be a token of my house, but now I find one whom I would honor above all others. Take this instead of a sword, let those here and those who see it know that you command in war with all my trust, confidence, and above all friendship. Where Ætheldreám leads, none will question the rightness of the cause or the surety of the need. May you do so with my blessing."

::OOC:: Doug, the Red Fox Ring is yours, it grants +1 to Awe rolls.