Even on the western bank of the Anduin, the east wind carries the scent of ash to the noses of the Beorning warband, for the hall of Gelvira Pot-Stirrer has burned to the ground and no sign can be seen of those who once tended its hearth or watched the road for travellers come to the Old Ford. Where it stood now are camped some six-score riders, so say the far-sighted among the host, and perhaps fifty afoot bearing great bows in the manner of the Men of the middle and southern Vales.
Nor has the coming of Grimbeorn's warriors gone unmarked, for messengers have ridden across the river, right hands held high and open in a sign of peace and parley. Helms held in hand, they are ushered before the chieftain of the Beornings to speak their missive.
"Our lord Mogdred, who is King of the Vales and Lord of Tyrant's Hill, and who is the shield of the folk of the Anduin valley from the darkness that gathers in the south, bids you hear that he has taken this ford from the hands of Viglund Thrall-keeper. For this reason, and in accord with the common custom of all peoples, it is his by right of conquest!"
Angry shouts erupt at once from the assembled onlookers, for in great number is the host gathered and strong in arms. Yet in the face of this their speaker continues: "In his mercy, however, King Mogdred sees no need for strife and the shedding of blood this day. In his goodness, he wishes it to be known that the chieftain Grimbeorn and all his men, even under arms, may ford the wide river without let from him, and that he shall forsake his claim to this place besides, so long as his ransom be paid."
At this, the harsh words fall quiet, for word of the raiding has spread from north-riding scouts and seekers after food and shelter fleeing south in desperation, and many would fain leave even now to look to the welfare of their kinfolk, land and herds. A hissing intake of breath follows the naming of Mogdred's price, for it is high indeed: three times the yearly income from the Ford's toll, in coin or kine.
Every clan will feel the burden of such a toll, and Grimbeorn's own household most of all, for much has no doubt been carried away by the Viglundings in their northward retreat. And yet, it is not beyond the ability of the folk to meet such a demand.
:ooc: Right - we're going to do this as pure RP - Doug and Tom, pick a Beorning thegn (maybe one who spoke at the council at Ferthald's steading (https://rpg.avioc.org/boards/index.php?msg=35102) or who accompanied Grimbeorn to the Council of the North (https://rpg.avioc.org/boards/index.php?msg=31901)?) and RP your advice.
Matt, the final call on what to do undeniably belongs to Grimbeorn. Feel free to ask any questions you want to! I'll jump in as need be to let you know any pertinent details.
:ooc: I should point out also that this is essentially a flashback. At this point in the timeline, the Fellowship of the Helm is on the Carrock isle, waiting for Viglund to show up.
:ooc: paul i dont understand this part.
"he wishes it to be known that the chieftain Grimbeorn and all his men, even under arms, may ford the wide river without let from him, and that he shall forsake his claim to this place, an that his ransom be paid."
Is he saying he will let everyone pass for free this one time and after that they have to pay?
:ooc: Yes, reading back I see that what I wrote was um... less than totally clear (I've edited it for the benefit of those who haven't yet suffered through my tortured prose). Cards on the table: Mogdred is pretty certain he has the high hand and this is a shakedown. Grimbeorn gets nothing without either a payment or a fight.
I'm still confused. Is he keeping the ford or not? Is he asking for regular tolls after this one time free pass or is he saying he will ransom it back to Beorn? If so what is the price?
Grimbeorn is angered by the wanton destruction on the borders of his people's lands, but even more so by this man.
If he believes that Beornings cannot take the Old Ford back by force, then he would call out the man to single combat to finish this once and for all; he will use any and all argument or threat to make the man yield to either honor or pride to force his hand. Neither he nor his folk will pay for the lands that are theirs.
There is also the "diplomatic" route where he could call out to Dale and Dwarves of Erebor for support (Elves of Mirkwood aren't worth the time) but agreement, muster, and march would probably take too long -- unless Grimbeorn can be convinced of it working.
:ooc: Okay, I see I really haven't made this clear, for which I apologise again. It's less atmospheric, but I'll break it right down:
- Mogdred holds the Old Ford.
- His argument is 'Viglund took it from the Beornings and I took it from Viglund, so it's now mine fair and square, as all civilised people would agree'.
- While he holds it, he won't let the Beorning army across (on the reasonable grounds that it'd be much easier for Grimbeorn to just capture it right back if he did).
- He doesn't propose to just give it back to the Beornings, but will ransom it back to them.
- I deliberately haven't quantified the price he's asking (that's not really part of TOR) but it's a lot - not a sum that would permanently impoverish the Beornings, but enough that every clan and household would have to contribute some cattle or treasure to meet it.
Doridh Crooked Tooth was moved to speak. He dwelled west in the vales and he was known to be cantankerous and grumbling. His men were few, but brave and the sigil of the mountain cat was often seen in the great fyrd playing a roll greater than its numbers would indicate.
"As all here know I and my folk dwell in the west, under the shadow of the eaves of the mountain. In the old days we were the first folk for those traveling east after they passed the mountains. Before the great battle few seldom came, but from them we got news and traded for coin. After the great battle more travelers have come and the Goblins are less but they are not gone, so still we must deal with them.
Then the Great Bear called us and his words seemed wise. We headed the call and helped to guard this ford. True, some profit we did see in this, but it meant fewer spears in my own land.
Then Grimbeorn, the Great Bears son began to ask. He asked us to the fight at the Stony Ford. Again we came with our spears and axes out of the mountains. Then the wargs came down from the north, and we came with our spears and axes. Now men from the south come and here we are again assembled with our spears and axes. To who's profit? Not mine.
We have not seen a season yet where the Bearcub hasnt called us all to war, but it is only I who fight the goblins in the vales. What value is this place to me?
The Carrock is lost, the Ford is lost, and rumor is even the house of the Great Bear is ash. What have we gained?"
Cormryn Shellback spoke next. He wore an old battered and beaten breast plate. Esgalwen had seen him once and wondered both if he knew that it came from Umbar when it still was part of Gondor, and also how it had ended up here. Seemingly at the end of the world to the Stone Land. He preferred the name Iron Belly for his toros was covered in the bright and shinning plate which he kept polished. The name Shellback came when someone tried to stab him in the back in a fight, only to find he was armored both fore and aft.
"I am Cormryn, listen to my words. All here know my lands. You know them very well for we have just marched through them. They lay burnt and pillaged behind you and the air is, even here, twinged with the perfume of their burning. What unguent do I posses to soothe them? Only what may still lay hidden remains to use to rebuild. Unable would I be to pay this ransom.
Hear me still and let me speak. Even the Wolfslayer has felt the bite of pitch and flame. How many hives remain unturned in his apiary? How many cakes remain to his hall?
I am here now. We are here now. My future could be no less worse than I to fail to take the ford now than it would be to pay for this theft. My honor however would feel less hurt, my pocket would be filled by the wagons that will come with better weather than if I were now to cut a hole in the bottom of them and pay this price.
These men are far from their home, and this is our land. Unlikely have they traveled with great store. I'd rather wash the stones of the ford with my blood then give the last bushel of corn to my name to these usurpers and outsiders."
Snell Brokenhelm rose to speak next.
"Doridh, I've seen your steading, how many tolls have you charged on your own? Not so humble and rude are your lands as you paint them."
"Our spears leave our halls bright, but they often return covered in the blood of goblins. What they have seized we have by right taken back."
"So Crooked Tooth, you support the claim by conquest of the Southrons?" Cormryn quickly interjected.
"They make their claim in accordance with custom, I will not fault them that," he called back.
"So what shall we fault them," spoke Brokenhelm.
"They are outsiders. At least Viglund is distant kin. Even had I the money to pay I would not suffer these mongrel men of the south to be my neighbors or to embolden them to come in every season up the river to stain my land like Orcs and Wargs," Cormryn's blood was now rising and his posture and bearing suggested any who said otherwise would be friends no longer.
Brokenhelm stepped into the circle.
"Cormryn you have spoken, now sit down. I know something of these Southrons, they are far from our kin and neither is Viglund. The Cruel Axe of the north takes in the company of Orcs, wargs, and enslaves our folk. These southerns dwell close to the place of ill omen. Mongrel they are coming from many lands and places. I would wager it will not be long before they too send out slave parties and we find orcs or worse at the ford. The woodmen have no love of this man, they may not aid us but they will not hinder us in this."
"Ever have we been beset Crooked-tooth, but at least now we know that others, under the banner of the Bear will come to our aid. We all must suffer what me must, either the coin price or the iron price. Eitherway we can not permit these men of the south to hold the ford. The question is how we are to manage this."
Claudas Bare-legs, standing with a grunt of effort, app spreads his arms to command the attention of the assembly. "Two to one we are the greater in number, but still a battle would not be in our favour. The foe's arrows would leave many of us cold in the river, be our shields ever so broad, and those who made it across would face the fight of their lives against mounted riders. And forget not that we still have the wargs and their orcish allies to bring to battle!"
He looks around the circle, noting who will meet his eyes and who will not. "I am for paying this price. Though it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, I know cattle will make more cattle and the ford will bring more coin. We are in this state because we were tricked and bewitched, and this harsh lesson will help us never to be so again."
:ooc: Doug, Matt, anything to add?
Varell the Younger has kept quiet being the youngest and of least renown amongst the thegns present. "To prove his might among us and no less the Vigs and the rabble from the south, Grimbeorn should best this Mogdred in single combat for our lands and our honor. Paying this tribute would be a black stain upon us and our ability to maintain the peace in our lands, but fighting other Men is also a sore business when there are orcs and other scum that should have our attention."
Sigurd of the Long Winter retorted from the crowd.
"Brave words Varell, for a spear-hand that has sprouted only the hair of a babe. Quick you are in your simplicity to ask others to fight on your behalf. True, you call upon the Wolfslayer and his skill is not slight."
Sigurd looked at those assembled. "But what if he fails? Should this challenge be accepted and lost what state would be in then? Would you then unweary pass beneath the yoke of spears and surrender your coin, pride, and dominion?"
:ooc: Can I just say how much I'm loving the names you guys are coming up with? Pure gold.
Anyway, a few more of these guys and it'll be time for Grimbeorn to make his decision.
:ooc: Or not - weigh in any time, Matt!
:ooc: Okay, looks like Matt's caught up with other things at the moment. I'll give it another 24 hours and then I'll take over.
:ooc: Paul - I am sorry! I guess I read that last post and blanked. I think Matt and his wife are on a cruise right now. I know he is gone through the 25th, as he is not available for our Thursday night Roll20 TOR game.
I apologize for not shooting you a reply immediately.
:ooc: Aha! Well now that I know, I'll put this to one side until he's back. Grimbeorn is still, in a very important sense, Matt's character and I thank him in absentia for letting me drive him around for a bit.
An outsider to the folk rose to speak. He was careworn and of unknown age though even the oldest among them seemed to recall seeing him now and then even in their youth. Chiefly he was known to Cormryn's folk for prior to the battle of five armies he had been known to prowl the passes and the trails.
"I, Argalad of the East, wish to speak. Hear me and listen to my words.
Dark tidings have come before and there are few here that should they choose to remember know that the these times are not the darkest. The death of the goblins of the mountains was a reprieve, not a coming of peace.
Grimbeorn Wolfslayer, this is not a personal challenge of yours. This is a challenge being faced by all the spears and all the axes. This is true in my home over the mountains as it is here. Each pitched battle makes us weaker there as it does here. Though it looks like it all around you this is not the fight. The fight is against the wargs, the orcs, and the orc friends. These enemies that hold the ford suffer from the sickness of greed. No orcs came with them. They may ally with them in time, though not now and you cant fight the whole world with what here you have assembled. Each axe and spear lost here is one less not only today, but next month, and next year. The coin you would pay and the hunger that may come are things a man can deal with. Pride does not raise warriors from the dead, and it doesnt increase your muster. These folk are here to drive out the wargs and the warg men. Dedicate them to that purpose wholly, or be eaten by the circling wolves. Greed is the cause of this problem, paying them isnt the final answer, but it will solve one problem without the loss of a spear when so many others currently demand them."
Grimbeorn is deep in dark thought. He puts a hand up at the mutterings that come from Argalad's speech. He knows that it would be a sore trial facing Mogdred even as he has grown into his father's stature and place, but remembers not when his father was tested so and his council is dim on such a matter. Heavy is the crown upon the head once it is taken up or so the old saying goes.
The pause is long but the thegns keep their silence in deference to the man and his position. Some yet chafe at the delay but their mouths are shut.
"Scorn not the young in their sight for Varell is right that I should meet Mogdred and I will -- have words with him at the least. From there we shall see how faithless or true to his word he is. This I will say, I will not waste our swords and spears needlessly, for your are right, too, Argalad, all too well the forces of the Shadow are the true enemy, but Men who waylay and conquer needlessly must be stopped as well for they do the Shadow's work even without knowing."
"If I must face a man and if I were to lose, you will know that it will be to someone who at least opposes the Shadow too, for that is the enemy to all Free People."
:ooc: Worth the wait! I'll bring some more story on later today.