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The new day broke with clear skies and sunshine. Though still cold, the bitter chill of the few days prior seemed to let go as the sun warmed their bodies.

Boots and pants were still a little rigid, but they had mostly dried out and the companions knew it would not take long for their bodies' heat to finish the job.

To the north of their camp, a trail of broken snow and mud marched west. With their gear packed and weapons girded, they commenced the chase once more. The forest loomed darkly across the horizon but it added a comfort to the men. It was Mirkwood, it was their home and it was familiar - unlike the rocky land around the lake. Marching for another two hours, they saw a structure break the horizon in its unnatural fashion.

The stone of the broken, old tower was white from the sun. The roof was broken and fallen in and the walls no longer looked sturdy. Still, the path led towards it. Laying low in the near-bare foliage, the companions debated their course.

---

:ooc: Okay, you guys are a distance off from an old, broken tower. It looks mannish in make, but maybe it was once a Dwarf-tower that might have been built along a northerly road to Erebor. You can't tell. You guys are hidden as best as you can be in a copse of woods and scrub. What would you like to do?

"Well, we didnt come all this way for nothing. Shall we approach?"

"Stay your hand," Arbogast counsels, "for we know not whether our quarry lie within, nor their numbers if they do.  More than once in recent memory have we suffered after rushing recklessly into battle."

As Hathcyn's expression sours, he adds "besides, though no mason am I, it seems to me that yonder tower stands unsteady.  Perhaps observation will show some weakness we might exploit."

Oh, for Anar to be here, he adds to himself.

"I'm not meant for skulking and nor the inclination.  If you wish to circle about, be my guest.  We have time and it'd likely be better to wait until twilight to approach if there is no more advantageous route," said Grimbeorn.

"Then I will keep watch while you find shelter.  It will be good to have your eyes sharp and your sword-arm fresh when they are needed." 


:ooc: Arbogast will find a spot where he can observe the tower without exposing himself too much and watch the tower for signs of movement.  He is Patient, so I submit that he can keep a fairly constant watch for several hours at least. 

Stealth roll (if required):


Alertness roll:

Nestled in a copse, Arbogast watched the distant tower for movement, but only birds could be seen. Sleek raptors sat atop the crenels and broken roof, eyeing the surrounding snow-covered prairie for the rare rabbit or groundhog that had not yet settled for the coming winter. Occasionally they would take to wing and pounce on a target, or climb higher into the blue sky to scout. Smaller birds also flitted about, keeping clear of their larger relatives.

The tedium of the watch caused Arbogast the occasional yawn, but he was patient - a trait learned all those years of sitting and staring into fires. And then... movement. A shadow within the shadows of the old tower. Something moved.

The sun had crossed the sky to twilight and whatever may lay within was beginning to reveal itself.

:ooc: I'm guessing that Arbogast can't get any idea of the size of the thing, or whether there's more than one of it?

Arbogast whistles in a passable imitation of a kite, attracting the attention of his companions.  When he sees them watching, he points to the tumbledown tower and slightly raises his axe.  Though he remains silent, his meaning is clear: something within stirs.  Be ready. 


:ooc: Doug, unless you have any objection, I'm going to make a retroactive Craft roll to see whether Arbogast has spotted any exploitable defect in the walls of the tower.  Given his low score, I'm not expecting anything to come from it but he'll take any tactical advantage that he can get. 

:ooc: Uck-fay.

Arbogast could not discern numbers only movement, and the tower itself though dilapidated, did not reveal a weakness that they could exploit. His efforts were proving useful but also creating more questions. Who was in there? Orcs or bandits? How many were there? Should he and his two companions disturb this unknown hive?

Dusk now lay over them all and soon his keen eyesight would be useless. The companions sat quietly contemplating their next decision.

Fortunately, it came for them.

With the sun slowly lowering in the western sky beyond the forest, a pack of individuals emerged from the shadows of the tower. Six? Eight? The diminishing light made it hard to tell, but the group began to march to the north and east towards the marshlands - running almost parallel to the broad trail that had been left before. Were these individuals another party of foragers - or raiders?

Neither group knew the other was there, nor were they aware of another set of eyes that kept watch.

:ooc: I vote we get a bit closer to see what's what.  Any objections?

From her place in the woods, she watched as a band of the villainous goblins once more set off to forage and steal. The sight of the creatures brought forth a wrath as it always did - a desire for vengeance upon them for all of the hurt they had brought upon her folk. And long was her memory, for she was a High Elf, born into the world not long after the fall of the last realm of Arnor.

Her name was Laeral and she had come from Rivendell for a purpose all her own. Long had she walked the world in search of the treasures of the Noldor and Sindar to return them to her people, hidden as they were within their conclaves. But these were no mere treasures, like the gold and silver trinkets of mortals - these were the treasures of the Elves that were bound to Middle-earth and the lands of Aman now lost to them all. These were the treasures that helped change the world.

The goblin raiders were fading from her sight - not due to the failing light of day, for her eyes were keen and could see many things equally well by starlight. No, the raiders were disappearing into the foliage and depression of the marshes. Laerel's eyes returned to the tower. It was an old structure built by the Men of Rhovanion and it was the end of a trail that she had been following. She had heard that beneath it lie a warren of tunnels and caves and therein a pile of booty stolen and squirreled away by the orcs. Perhaps among the baubles of Men and Dwarves might lay a piece of her folk's history. Perhaps a sacred treasure might lay within, tossed aside by one of the creatures who would have been pained by such an item as those created in Gondolin!

For what were orcs anyway, but mere mirrors of their master - the greatest thief of all!

:ooc: All right, Aly - you have been introduced. Feel free to pick up the narrative for your character as you would like.

I will set the scene for you guys and you all shall act within it how you please. If you feel a test is required for an action you wish to perform, feel free to roll it (see Paul's posts above). Target numbers in this game are at a base 14, but if there is a greater - or lesser - challenge I will let you know.

Feel free to add and create within our story as you wish - we are all writing this little addition to Tolkien's world. Still, as Loremaster, I will control the world around to present you all with the challenges your characters might face. There are times I will need a roll from the PC's and I might roll them for expediency's sake - you guys will react off the results within your narrative and dialogue. Sometimes I ask for the rolls and wait for you guys to do them - it all depends on how quickly we need the results for the overarching narrative.

There are times I will add dialogue for your characters in my posts, but I will do my best to stay 'in character' with how you present your PC's in your own posts. If I get something wrong, don't hesitate to let me know and I will retcon the changes into the story.

There are three icons in the buttons above that allow you to roll within the posts - maybe Paul has shown you how they work? If not, here is a link to a thread that gives instructions on How to Use Our Forum (https://rpg.avioc.org/boards/index.php?topic=1577.0)

If you have questions, please don't hesitate to ask.

I write all story narrative and dialogue in the standard black font.

I write all my general out-of-character in the maroon color.

I write all hero mechanics in the navy color.

I write all enemy mechanics in the red color.

You do not have to use colors, but if you do please stick to the same scheme. It helps me find things when I am scrolling up and down a thread.

Lastly feel free to use the emoji/icons in your mechanics to substitute for words you don't want to keep re-typing (i.e. endurance :<3:, eye :~~:, great success :%:, armor :<>:, etc.)

Hathcyn whispered, "let us move forward, raid their warren, and ambush them upon their return."

"Close enough to dispatch this filth? I am all in favor of.  Doing it now or later makes no difference other than giving them a chance to get away."

"This is their liar, they shall return here. Let us take their own tracks in to hide our presence."

Arbogast nods, already moving toward the tower. 


:ooc: Doug, do you want us to make Stealth rolls?  If so, Arbogast's is here:

:ooc: everyone else's stealth rolls:

TN opposed stealth by PC




TN opposed awareness 2d

The trio began to cross the frozen prairie moving low and to what cover could be found. Slowly the tower loomed closer.

A broken door hung loose on old metal hinges that allowed it to gently swing back and forth with the wind. It no longer secured the entrance to the ruined tower and so would create no difficulty to enter. Hathcyn could also see a large hole at the base of the edifice that was covered by odd pieces of wood, fragments of the old roof that no longer covered the top.

Gripping their weapons tighter, the companions continued their approach. From her place in the trees, Laerel could see the three Men and she wondered if they were friends or enemies.

With a nod to his companions, Arbogast pushes past the wreckage of the door into the gloom beyond, his shield raised against any threat that may lie within. 

Hathcyn and his great spear entered soon behind the Woodman. He was prepared to backup his friend with the sharp leafed blade.

Grimbeorn too the rearguard, following close to the others and ensuring that they wouldn't be taken by surprise.  Axe and shield were cold in his hands but his blood was on fire, ready for anything.

The smell of orc pervaded the inside of the old tower, along with that of mildew and rot. Darkness pervaded the chamber since setting dayling could no longer shine down through the broken roof, and instead only cast a ghostly glow from the windows above. The glowing coals of a fire offered some faint light and a little warmth, as well as showing evidence of the goblins presence.

A set of stone stairs wound round the northside of the tower wall, ascending to the rafters of what once was a second floor. They continued up a short distance beyond where they failed along with the tower wall and roof. It was evident from the shoots of brush and you saplings that were winter-bare, inside the main chamber, that the place had long been abandoned by Men. Arbogast had long dismissed the idea of this being a Dwarven wayfort - the stonework was not done by those folk.

Laeral watched the three men enter the broken door of the tower and continued to wonder at who they were. She knew at once they were not Lakemen, or even Dale-Men - the clothes and manner was all wrong. She knew of the Men of the Vale - Beornings and Woodmen - and these three fit the descriptions she had heard, but she had never met their like. Crude and gruff was her impression - not refined like those Men of Old Arnor, or Gondor, and certainly not like the Men of Dale.

She continued to watch and wonder. Did they not realize that this was the Enemy's time? Shadows and darkness were their favoured setting.

---

TN 12 search by PC

They searched about to ascertain that no goblin was present. Arbogast tested the old stairs and climbed high enough to see the space above the rafters. Hathcyn went to the fire to puzzle out whether the goblin camp was a permanent place, or just one from which to make their raids. Grimbeorn searched about the shadows of the room, stabbing his head of his axe into any dark holes. If there was any goblins or their allies - wolves, bats, or spiders - hiding still within, he would ferret them out.

CLUNK!

Grimbeorn's boot step made a hollow clunk that caused both of his companions to quickly look his way. Looking down, the Beorning could make out a crude trap door fashioned from the surrounding broken wood planks. The rest of the floor was now earthen - the original wooden floor long gone. Stones and parts of the roof littered about but for the most part it was clear... save this spot which had a large panel of wood.

---

:ooc: Understand, unless you guys light a torch or stoke the fire, you are going to lose all ability to see in the darkness.

In the fading light, Arbogast looks around the high places, an idea for an ambush of the light-hating folk already forming in his mind. 


:ooc: If we can, I'd like to be ready to dump a whole bunch of fuel on the fire.  That way, when the orcs come home again we can get a huge blaze going quickly and (hopefully) have a temporary advantage. 

Hathcyn smiled, "yes, a pyre for their return. Let us first set a store aside and then find some pitch and poles to make torches to see what lies below. We will loose the light in here, let us move quickly."

"So far on this venture, this is the first thing to go well," thought Grimbeorn.  "Is there enough fuel here to do so? I'm not we have the time to collect ere they return.  Yet I have axe and this floor here is appears suitable..."

"Anything dry will do, we seek only a burst of light, not sustained heat or warmth."

"Leave the floor," Arboast hisses down from his temporary perch on the upper reaches of the stairs.  "It will not burn quickly, and we may have sore need of it when battle is joined!  What we seek are small things.  Look for scraps and rags, and pieces of straw and kindling." 


:ooc: Doug, do you want more Search rolls?  Arbogast's Search skill has always been shitty, so he may be better suited to being a lookout in case the orcs come back early.  If we can assume he's doing that, here's an Awareness roll:

The Beornings gathered all the wood they could find, which was more than hoped as the orcs had a small faggot piled near the wall. From his vantage point, Arbogast could see the darker shadow of the woods nearby and knew that fuel for fire would not be a problem, merely the chore of collecting it.

Hathcyn took a longer stick of wood and wrapped it with a long tear of cloth that he had taken from his tunic. Also near at hand, the men found a crude clay bottle of orc-brew - alcohol of some sort that the foul-folk used to revitalize. It did in a pinch to saturate the fabric and make it much more flammable.

Once done...

---

:ooc: Okay, I am not sure of the intent here. Are you all going to wait in the shadows for the raiders to return? Are you going to light the place on fire? I see each PC has an idea, but I am not seeing the end goal that you are all working towards.

Aly can introduce Laeral whenever she wants. The Elf has been watching the tower and now knows men are within, but I do not know if she cares to approach. Let me know.

Aly, I wrote you a PM.

"Firewatcher, we are all set down here. Let us see what lies below our feet and explore a bit before laying in wait. They will not return for sometime."

:ooc: This is a good suggestion and I do not see how anything bad can come of it.

EDIT: Less facaetious post to follow when I've got some more work done.

Arbogast's nod is somewhat distracted, for he is already narrowing his eyes and peering through gaps in the stonework in search of a figure he thinks he beheld for a heartbeat, flitting from cover to cover in the twilight. 

"You first, master spearman.  I'd rather know this place as much as possible lest they return.  I like not towers overmuch since the spiders..." said Grimbeorn as his eyes drifted to the flames, lost in haunted memories.

Hidden in the bare scrub, Laeral frowned.  Who were these Men, and what was their business in this place?  She wondered whether they might be allies of the orcs, or simple mercenaries trading their blades for the Enemy's coin, for she had known the treacherous and greedy hearts of Men in years long past.  Or perhaps they were here for the same purpose as she: to slay or drive off the orcs and return any stolen treasures back to the Free Peoples?

Her curiosity beginning to overcome her suspicion, she began to stir herself.  She would not learn the answers to her questions without coming closer.

Hathcyn hefted his spear before him and went to where the planks of wood lay across the floor. He grabbed a corner and hefted it up to reveal a hole that went straight down. To allow for access, a crude wooden ladder ran down its length.

There was nothing but darkness below.

As the Beorning opened the trapdoor, again a shadowy shape moving across the snow-covered field around the tower caught Arbogast's eye.

---

:ooc: Need to make a test roll for the two Beornings...

TN 14 awareness by PC

Somewhere below, Hathcyn heard a gruff voice speaking, only to be answered by another.

"Glad tonight is not my night for raidin'. I's prefer to be warm down here."

"Well that's because yer not much more than maggot-folk! Weak and useless!" The other voice gave a snarled laugh.

"You may say so, but it's us that found this hole and it's us that made it into the perfect hideout. And we's know how to get around through small holes and cracks."

"Like worms!" Again the snarled laugh.

"Just remember... yers the ones who have been offered shelter here by our chieftain, not the others way 'round!" Came the angered reply. "Keep it up and I will let Hargash know exactly what you Uruks been sayin'!"

A large growl and then a yipe came from somewhere below, only to be followed by a laugh, "You maggot-folk can keep your hole. We'll be movin' on soon enough. It's my lads who are out there now raiding and collecting supplies from these Lake-men... they are as soft as you folk."

"If they're so soft, whys you all sneakin' in by night? Whys you all hidin' heres with us?"

The argument continued, as Hathcyn looked to Grimbeorn and mouthed the word... orcs.

Now certain that he sees sobering approaching, Arbogast descends the rickety remains of the staircase as quickly as he can, sparing little thought for stealth.  Some new threat has us trapped in here, he thinks, his mind full of a memory of the terror he felt during the battle years ago against the Spectre of Gundabad.

It is not until he has rattled his way to the bottom, dislodging more than one timber, that he sees the shock on his companions' countenances and realises that enemies already lie below. 

Hathcyn lowered the planks and moved away.

"Sounds like goblins and Orcs together. This may be a whole den of them. That raiding party is not alone. I'd not have them come up behind is while we ambush those that return. What do you want to do?"

"For now, pay then no mind, for I fear something worse approaches from without!"

The ladder meant that they would need a great deal of leverage to throw it open.

Hatchyn leveled his spear and took a stance upon the planks.

"They'll have to move me dead or alive. I'll receive what comes upon my spear and let my weight block the deeps. I'm ready." 

Grimbeorn looks around for something to block or wedge the opening.

 :ooc:
 :00:

Laeral arrived at the remains of the tower's door, her spear held loosely but surely in her hands.  She heard the voices of Men from within, speaking in the tongue of the Men of the West.  Though this augured well for their nature, she let her spear-tip precede her through the archway. Before those within could react, she addressed them.  "Who are you and what is your business here?"

"Death to Goblins and Orcs, our names are our own. Who are you that materializes from the wood?"

Hathcyn showed no change in his posture, but spoke in a more subdued tone than usual. There were other guests below his feet.

:ooc: Hold on - I'm going to let the Random Number Gods decide how Arbogast takes this...
Wisdom roll at an arbitrary TN of 16

As Hathcyn speaks at the indistinct figure beyond his companion, Arbogast stands, entirely bewitched by what he beholds.  For silhouetted in the ruined doorway is a figure from an elder age, a warrior maiden of the Firstborn whose mien seems to partake of the unearthly and unchanging beauty of the stars themselves.  Though she stands upon the same earth as he, she seems forever apart from it - or perhaps eternally part of it in a way that he can never fully understand. 

Without any conscious will of his own, his mouth forms the words "I am Arbogast... son of Arbodag..."  Then, though his mind remains equally lost in dream, he realises something of who he addresses.  This is one of a line that has forever stood, and will perhaps forever stand, against the Shadow. 

"The servants of the Enemy lie beneath us," he finishes, his axe nearly falling from loosening fingers. 


:ooc: The new version of Laeral that Aly and I have worked up has the Beauty of the Stars virtue, which can do this sort of thing to mortal Men.  It's going to be fun when it comes up! 

Also, Aly, I have slightly altered your post above to fix what I'm fairly sure is a typo - let me know if I've got it wrong. 

:ooc: Where is the new Laeral sheet? I see the one on Dropbox is the original.

:ooc: Sorry - I thought Aly might have put it up.  In retrospect, she was probably expecting me to do it. 

EDIT: Done.

Laeral gazes coolly but expectantly at the third member of the party....

Grimbeorn returns the gaze silently, one eyebrow cocked.  He gives a deep sigh and hefts his weapon and shield -- an heirloom he is sure will be recognized.  "Well I was looking for something with which to block that portal and here a another spear walks in to do the job. I pray it be more useful than decorative," he jibes.

:ooc: Quick note here for Aly - Grimbeorn's shield is a big, leaf-shaped bugger with a large 'L' emblazoned on it.  It was originally crafted by the Elves of Lothlorien (Galadriel's folk).  His Axe was enchanted by Elves of Rivendell a couple of years ago, and she may or may not have been present at the time.

 :ooc: elves are elves. Your words make no sense. Lol

"He is Grimbeorn the Wolfslayer. Even folk who live under the trees and stars should know the slayer of their nightmares. If that were not enough he is the son Beorn, if lineage is more important than deeds.

I am the Longspear, short on deeds and family. Are you living or a vision?"

:ooc: I am going to be sitting and reading your dialogue, guys. I will move the story forward when I see/feel the chit chat is over, and/or you guys give me an action that you are doing.

Ai! I am Laeral Aurukun. What is your plan as concerns the threat below?

The mention of the orcs below awakens Arbogast once more to the world around him.  "All those who dwell here must be slain or driven off, lest they continue to endanger the folk of the Lake.  As for those here now, we would trap them below," he says, "until those that have yet to return have been dealt with." 

He turns away and adjusts his helm, hoping to conceal his embarrassment at his temporary bewitchment. 


:ooc: Doug, did Grimbeorn spot anything that we could use to keep the trap door shut before Laeral made her entrance?

"Unless there is another means of for those maggots to burrow themselves out.  The presence of another spear increases our chances of dealing with the threat quickly.  And the longer we debate, the more time they get to realize we're here or the others return," grumbled Grimbeorn.

"Let us go below and stab them."

"Will you join us, lady?" Arbogast asks, his mien displaying none of Hathcyn's dark mirth. 

Quote from: Eclecticon on Apr 15, 2020, 04:51 PM:ooc: Doug, did Grimbeorn spot anything that we could use to keep the trap door shut before Laeral made her entrance?

:ooc: There is some tumbled stone from the broken walls.

"Do we go below and bring the battle to them, or await the return if their friends?"

"We go down.  They won't come up unless the others return and we can possibly surprise them," said Grimbeorn.  He nods at the hatch, "who's first?"

There is a moment of tender silence, for what lies beneath the trap door is unknown, but the peril is clear.  Then Arbogast says "let it be me, and Grimbeorn next.  If the space below is wide enough, we may stand without shields athwart it.  Your spears," he adds, implicitly addressing both Hathcyn and Laeral, "will reach over our shoulders and our shield wall."

:ooc: Arbogast's one and only experience of fighting underground is the fight in the barrows near the Sunstead, so he is assuming that this will go similarly.  He may be completely wrong 

"So be it," replied the great Beorning.  "Soften the light up here, we don't want to give away our approach." Grimbeorn gave a look to Hathcyn so he might keep an eye on the elf.  Noldo she may be, but that doesn't mean that his trust is given easily.

:ooc: I will update the story tonight.