The Shadow of the Helm

[Eclecticon]

For two days, Caewin and his folk tarry at the Fox's Tale and enjoy the easy hospitality of Hathcyn as the eldest among them recover their strength and begin to speak with less trepidation and more excitement about the journey ahead.  "Five days," they say to each other, "if the weather and wain-axles hold, and we shall see at last the grandest of all houses of our folk." 

This last, however, is spoken in hushed tones, for Caewin boasts unceasingly about the Sunstead.  "Ah, my friends, you must consider yourselves invited, for my hall will soon match that of the King of Dale himself in its splendour.  Why, I mean to bring carvers and craftsmen back with me when I return who shall make the very timbers of my house a thing of wonder as they recount the tales of the old Rhovanion kingdom even to the present day.  Do not think that you will be ignored either!" he calls to Esgalwen as she sits with a handful of other warriors, fletching arrows.  "To every guest I will show the scene of your defeat of the king of the wights that brought peace between the living and the dead!" 

And all this for a carpet, Hathcyn muses as he watches Saradoc sleep upon it by the hearth. 

Soon enough, though, the day comes when wain and bags are packed, walking sticks are taken once again in hand and Caewin's followers set off once again for the south, their number now greater for that of the Fellowship of the Helm.  A light and sweet rain falls, but though the elders grumble and hide beneath heavy cloaks most seem glad to be abroad once again.  Perhaps it is simply that the end of their long journey feels at last close by. 

Still, it is difficult for the companions to feel at ease as Caewin mounts his horse and sets the Helm of Peace once again upon his pommel.  Still it sits as he spurs his mount, spectacles and nasal-bar swinging neither left nor right, as if an unseen presence looks out, its gaze fixed on the destination. 


We'll resolve this as a perfectly normal journey, with one exception: Caewin is in charge of the travelling party, so he's acting as the Guide rather than Gwaithlim, meaning you get to use his Travel score to resolve the marching tests.  To whit:

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

[Telcontar]

  so Rorin made the helm, but something happened to it in the barrow?

Player supposition is that it was possessed or cursed. This is probably something we need to discuss with Radaghast. Carwin doesnt seem like a bad dude just a little squirrely.

Problem Two. Mogdred. (I hate that guy) needs to be dealt with. I think there may be a play here though. I dont want to tip my hand to the LM on this though just yet.

Need to know who is on the Council, who gets a vote, so we'll need to lore and stories about this from the Firewatcher.

Paul, i recall a Yule or two ago someone approached Hathcyn about Mogdred and he asked them to get more info. i am thinking that was the wainrider chick? Maybe we need to see of we can find her or send a spy to Tyrant's hill. 

[Eclecticon]

so Rorin made the helm, but something happened to it in the barrow?

Player supposition is that it was possessed or cursed. This is probably something we need to discuss with Radaghast. Carwin doesnt seem like a bad dude just a little squirrely.

Something did happen, though whether or not it's a good thing is unclear.  See here for some reminders. 

Problem Two. Mogdred. (I hate that guy) needs to be dealt with. I think there may be a play here though. I dont want to tip my hand to the LM on this though just yet.

Aaaaw.  G'waaaaan.  I won't tell anyone!

Need to know who is on the Council, who gets a vote, so we'll need to lore and stories about this from the Firewatcher.

You'll find this out in due time.

Paul, i recall a Yule or two ago someone approached Hathcyn about Mogdred and he asked them to get more info. i am thinking that was the wainrider chick?   

That would be Athala, Hanno's daughter, she of the stuck-on false beard, who subsequently visited Hathcyn accusing Mogdred of being the man who sold her into slavery in the east and asking for his help avenging herself and her slain family.  So far, she hasn't been able to produce any proof, though. 

[Eclecticon]

Though the day passes slowly, the miles pass steadily beneath the travellers' feet, for the paths are well-trodden between the pastures of the Woodmen and the Green Stone Land.  The rain giving way to fitful sunlight as the wind rises to chase away the dourest of the clouds, and fitful conversation passes between the companions and the newcomers from the East Bight. 

Gwaithlim finds himself especially pestered, for the majesty of even the High Elves serves as a barrier to questions only for so long on an otherwise-empty road.  "Where are you from?" these Man-children ask him.  "Have you ever met the Elvenking?  Did you come here in the time of the old kingdom?  Have you been to the lands of the Men of Westernesse, or the sea beyond?"  Luindîs does not, and perhaps cannot, hide her delight at seeing the lordly Elf so beset, and echoes each question, beseeching him for "tales of elder days, of which we young creatures know not!" 

Arbogast keeps ever a watchful eye on the sullen forest that rises like a dark wall ever on the left-hand horizon, for it is hardly unknown for prize game to wander from its hiding place beneath the trees or, indeed, for some fouler thing to make itself abruptly known.  But neither beast nor foe troubles the sunlit hours. 

At last, the going-down of the sun behind the western peaks finds the band of wanderers within sight of the great white horse and rider cut into a hillside...


More to follow, but I have to serve dinner.

[Telcontar]

  paul, the woodmen are known for their hounds.... Any issue with Hathcyn bringing Sardoc along? Might open up some interesting investigation or information options for us. A hidden tool in our arsenal.

[GandalfOfBorg]

Gwaithlim only responds with recalling the longest story-song he knows, a lay of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad translating to Westron, which will last hours and hours for the tears are unnumbered yet it attempts to recount them all.

  the elves love their repetitive refrains.

[Eclecticon]

paul, the woodmen are known for their hounds.... Any issue with Hathcyn bringing Sardoc along? Might open up some interesting investigation or information options for us. A hidden tool in our arsenal.

I love this idea.  Let it be so. 

Gwaithlim only responds with recalling the longest story-song he knows, a lay of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad translating to Westron, which will last hours and hours for the tears are unnumbered yet it attempts to recount them all.

  the elves love their repetitive refrains.

Let's see how well they take it with a Song roll!

1d12 : 2, total 2
Rolled 3d6 : 5, 2, 4, total 11

[Eclecticon]

Gwaithlim's tale of the great deeds and greater sorrows of the past is in every sense grand: passionate, poetic and long.  For hour after hour he recounts the lays of the wars of Beleriand until his voice becomes simply another part of the landscape for the Mannish travellers.  Only Luindîs still listens, but she hangs on each word.  As dusk draws on and Gwaithilm at last reaches the end of the tale, she says "you sing like the lady Iremë, in the court of King Thranduil.  Ancient she is, and wise, but so sad!  I prefer my songs to be of smaller, and yet more joyous, things, but I would dearly love to learn your song as well for it is..."

Such words as she may have been about to utter are eclipsed by the cry of a sentry as the party begins to make its camp, for already the smoke of more nearby fires can be seen.  Esgalwen directs her gaze yonder and spies a handful of brightly-painted wagons surrounded by a substantial herd of long-horned cattle.  It is a bucolic scene, the peace of which is shattered by Caewin's bellow.  "WAINRIDERS!  To arms, Men of the Sunstead!"  At once, the entire camp is thrown into confusion as warriors rush to take up weapons and don armour.  Caewin tears his crown from his head to replace it with his helm, all the while crying "At them!
 Together, we shall break their power and cast the yoke of foreign conquest from our shoulders!" 

[Telcontar]

"Peace!" Bellows the Longspear suddenly.  "You are west of the wood here and the danger is not the same. I've never met a wainrider here between the Green Stone and the Woodmen. So let us not be over hasty in drawing swords."

[Eclecticon]

Tom, are you directing your words at Caewin (in which case this will be a Persuade test) or the Sunsteadingas as a whole (which would be Inspire)?

[Telcontar]

  persuade

Rolled 1d12 : 12, total 12

Rolled 3d6 : 3, 5, 1, total 9

[Eclecticon]

Confusion clouds the face of Caewin at the Foresthelm's words, but not those of his followers who round on the Beorning warrior angrily.  "Who are you to gainsay our lord and protector?" demands the young man who spoke to Esgalwen on the night of their arrival at the Fox's Tale.  "Well and wisely has he ruled, and if he knows yonder Men to be his enemies, then my enemies are they also!"  A low and angry chorus of agreement follows his words, while Caewin himself sits upon his horse, his eyes distant and lips moving soundlessly. 


We've started an Encounter, but one with two goals.  Not only do you need to persuade Caewin not to attack the camp of the other travellers, you also need to convince his bodyguards that you're not being treacherous by doing so.  I've set success goals for each, and it'll be clear from the narrative when you reach them.

[Telcontar]

  do we now make with the clackity clackity? 

[Eclecticon]

Go for it.  Just make sure you let me know who you're trying to sway, and how, if it isn't obvious. 

[Telcontar]

:: I want to try something a little different. I know that Caewin is under some type of dweomer from the helm. My character suspects something is up. I would like to make a corruption test using my valour to try and shake Caewin out of his confusion. Seems like a neat way to try and shake the corruption in another.


"I dont challenge your lord's authority, but I do challenge him attacking travelers in my own lands."

Hathcyn bent his will and his mein towards the Lord of Sunstead.


"Lord Caewin, the sun is shinning and these wagons are west of the wood. Prey, caution is better served here. Should they be foes I will gladly join you, but let us be certain."

Valour Test

Rolled 1d12 : 2, total 2

Rolled 5d6 : 2, 2, 2, 5, 5, total 16