The air is warm in the hall when Hathcyn stirs once again, but the before he even opens his eyes he can feel a different mood from that which held sway under the the pall of sorcery.  The air is fresh with the lingering scent of baked bread, and full of the chatter of Men about their business.  Even the hearth-fire seems at last to be giving more heat than smoke. 

"Ah, you're awake," says the familiar voice of Grimbeorn nearby as he stirs. 

"How long-" he begins to ask. 

"Well into the afternoon," comes the quick reply.  "Fear not, I'm not long awake myself.  Our exertions aren't getting any easier as the years pile up, are they?  And you've worked like a giant on my behalf, it seems." 

A hand hard and heavy as wood comes down on his back with surprising gentleness.  "I've much to thank you for, my friend, much indeed.  But now that your eyes are open I can't let you rest any longer.  I've gathered twenty score warriors here and found myself in some snare of the Shadow.  Now we've eaten poor Ferthald and his kin near out of house and home!  I have to move the army, but the question is where?" 

The light darkens momentarily as, upon standing, Grimbeorn blocks out the light from the wide-open door.  "Eat, and gather your strength.  I'd have loved some mutton, though it seems the wolves have put paid to everything that couldn't be kept safe behind stout walls, but there's bread and cheese for today, at least.  I've already spoken to Esgalwen and the Elves (and it seems you've found a spare one!).  When you're ready, I'd like you to join them and the thegns to help me choose our next steps." 


I've picked up the narrative following Hathcyn again, since he was the viewpoint character when the last scene ended, but feel free to narrate what Esgalwen and Gwaithlim have been up to in the period they've been up and about.  And in case I don't remember to update the sheets, everyone's back to full Endurance after a good long rest in a place of safety. 

The evening had passed as comfortably as it might.

During the celebration of their victory, a woman from Ferthald's clan had found Esgalwen sitting alone, amongst this group of warriors. Her name was Aoife and she had been surprised to see the Ranger dressed in gear for war, sodden though she was by the night's downpour.

Aoife had been kind and smiled at Esgalwen, then disappeared only to return to her with a knit gown that was dry and clean. Very pleased to see the clean linen, Esgalwen gladly accepted it and sought for a place of privacy to change into the dry clothes. Her own items were taken by the clans-woman and hung to dry near the fire. They spoke few words between one another, but the Dúnadan was very thankful for the gesture.

With the new day, Esgalwen had awoken early. The sun was breaking through the clouds and she took her still damp items outside to lay them upon a large rock, and then she found a place for herself to wash. It felt good to get the mud and dirt from the night's battle, as well as the blood, off her skin.

When she was clean, she braided her hair and tied the ends with leather strings and then made her way back to the long house. Entering, she saw Grimbeorn and Hathcyn talking and both glanced her way, but neither made recognition of her - dressed as she was. Such was her plight... to be seen as the warrior, but not always as the woman. The thought lasted only a moment, as Esgalwen was well accustomed to this dichotomy, even back to the days among her fellow rangers.

She took bread and a few pieces of bacon and eased her hunger, sitting among the women of Ferthald's house. Esgalwen made pleasant conversation with the ladies and some spoke in awe to her, being that she was one among the warriors. But this was not absolutely foreign to them, for surely there were times when these women, too, had to fight for their homes. As was oft said, you learn that those without swords can still die upon them.

After her breakfast, Esgalwen heard that the men would soon hold council, and so she went to gather her things. Her gear was mostly dry and she donned it once more, so that she could stand within this council as one of the warriors of Grimbeorn.

---

does our Fatigue reduce, too?

Aoife is a long way from home!  The nearest place you'd be given a name like that is probably the other side of the Misty Mountains. 

And yes, your Fatigue is reset as well. 

Hathcyn now rested worked arduously to slack his thirst in the afternoon sun.

"By all accounts we can not stay here, but where should we march? We shall only be able to move at the speed of foot and our enemies are faster than us. Surely they are not spread out to the four winds, there must be some central location they organize from. Withdrawing to the Carrock will give us greater protection, but only a bold attack at the heart of the threat will force them away."

The night and morn passed like it always had for the elder children of Iluvatar, quickly and of little note, but there is a distinct difference in feel of the place now that the power of the Shadow had been broken here.  It wasn't wholly cleansed but it would recover, he could feel it.  He took what little rest he needed and set out to care for those who needed it man and beast, making himself useful as he can.

When the men were roused after their rest, he kept himself to the side, scarce for his folk these days weren't meant to do more than provide aid and counsel as their numbers were few.  It wasn't his place to order things about but rely upon those he'd come to help to make their way.

As the sun wends its way toward the tips of the western peaks there is about the steading a new and eager reslessness, the Beorning warband keen to be free of confining walls even at this late hour of the day.  And indeed it is under the clear and boundless sky, seated on a great stone half-buried in the deep soil, that Grimbeorn now holds a council of his thegns.  At his sides stand Esgalwen of Gondor and Hathcyn Foresthelm, both long-known and respected among the folk of the middle vales. 

Some unease, however, accompanies the presence of the two Elves.  Claudas Bare-legs clearly cannot keep himself from casting sidelong glances at Luindîs.  Nor do any, it seems, wish to stand too near to Gwaithlim, and so he abides, straight and tall as a pillar, alone and separate from the Men about him. 

"So," exlcaims Sigebert the Stone, chief of a small clan from the south-west, "it's to be a great wolf-hunt, then!  Well, these shall be neither the first nor the last that my folk have paid the spear-tribute for the slaying of our herds!" 

"Aye, and bold words have come before acts ill-conceived once or twice too, or so I seem to recall," replies Grimbeorn, a thoughtful look upon his face.  "We have to drive the wolves away or else we give our pastures over to them, that much is clear.  But I'd know more of these wargs that fight, and die, and then disappear without a trace!  For fell sorceries have already been arrayed against us, and experience has taught me that blacker things still are likely to emerge before all's said and done." 


We're handling this as a Council as per the 2E rules, mostly because I still don't have a good handle on the changes between editions and this seems like a good way to teach myself.  The main thing I've noticed is that a single introduction roll can now be made for the whole company, which streamlines things a bit. 

On that note, as I've said above Hathcyn and Esgalwen are well-known to the current audience, but Gwaithlim and Luindîs will need an introduction before the Beornings will listen to them.  Anyone who wants to can make the roll.

  i leave it to the elf to speak for himself, it is the way of free men to declare for themselves.

Over to you, Matt, if you'd like to do it. 

Tom and Doug, don't feel like you need to wait if you want to start talking.

The Foresthelm stood in the sunlight tall and straight. The helm of the west hung from his belt and it shone in the sun while the sprig of green bough from Greenwood the Great stood crisp and green contrasting the sheen of the armor.

"The Wolfslayer speaks true, the bodies of our foes do not linger in the day, however I do not doubt that we have inflicted some hurt upon them none the less. They have kept us hemmed and at bay waiting for despair and sorrow to render us low, but we are Beornings! The sun has risen and their dark arts have been overthrown. Our job is not yet done. On the one hand we may leave here and defend the crossing of the Carrock, its strength and the water a double check against our foes. This would mean however, that we would cede the far bank and furthermore not bring us a meaningful victory. Somehwere out there out enemies gather, they muster, and they meet. I say we turn the hunter into the hunted and though they be concealed deep within their warrens we drive them out with fire and spear. Respite and peace will cone from attack, not defence. And we should not suffer that the way over the mountain and across Anduin the Great has been closed because of lack of courage by the men who guard it. The western bank of the river we should not concede to our foe, the tolls that enrich our people from guarding the crossing should not cease, and the obligation we have to the free peoples that those tolls confer on us can not easily be ignored.

For those of you here who may still feel the tug of fruitless despair at this undertaking I tell you to take heart. Here, here is Grimbeorn the Wolfslayer. Not the slayer of any mean pup or stealer of sheep. Here is the beast slayer, the werewolf of the wood, and a beast from ages past has fallen beneath him. In speed from the House of Beorn I came, but not alone and not empty handed. As is my charge and obligation the banner of the bear has come. Under its folds we have never known defeat and through our skill it shall become a symbol of the wrath of the animal spirit of the folk of Beorn. I shall bear it wherever this council decides we go, but my council is to take it before us and stab at the black heart of these beasts unto their very liars if we must and rid these lands of the vile howl of their throats and replace them with the nightgoing sounds of peace and the free roaming solitude of our spirits."

  With some metagaming here my personality boxes are all checked out, so can I spin this as a Perception skill as opposed to Personality? Insight or Awareness maybe to see clearly what is going on.

Both skills are the same if that's cool I'll roll it out, if not ignore the roll.

  the dice decided to align with my Periclean attempt at oratory!

I'll keep the roll even if it has to be Inspire to sway the crowd.

I'm loath to consider this an Insight roll, as it's pretty obvious that he's trying to sway the council, not assess it.  But nor am I going to leave such great RP unrewarded.  Take an AP out of petty cash and add it straight to your total. 

Many heads nod along with Hathcyn's words, for the thegns clearly consider their valour and virtue to have been challenged.  "Aye!" calls Fridiger Short-hair, pounding his fist on his leg in his enthusiasm, "my men will drive the wolves before us night and day, 'til we find the holes they hide in and burn them, or slay them if they won't run!" 

A sudden fluting trill accompanies his last word, and all eyes turn in vexation to where Luindîs stands, eyes wide with excitement.  For an eyeblink she looks unsure of herself, but recovers swiftly (or hides herself behind brave words, Gwaithlim finds himself thinking).  "And you shall be joined by great hunters and strong bows, for I am Luindîs, daughter of Fincalan who has stalked wolves in the depths of the great Wood!  And I am come with one greater still," she says with a serpent-fast wink at the High Elf nearby, "for this is Gwaithlim of the silver folk, whose deeds are known and sung of in all lands west of the mountains!" 


Matt being otherwise engaged, Luindîs is going to try for an Awe-based introduction:

Though he arches a bushy eyebrow at the she-Elf's boasting, Grimbeorn nods his head in formal recognition.  "Gwaithlim of Imladris I recall from happier meetings in days past, and any companion of my friends I'll gladly welcome." 


Not quite a success, so buggrit she'll drop a Hope point on it.  Matt, feel free to have Gwaithlim say whatever he likes.

Council changes 1e v 2e:

If it is your intent to use Council 2e rules, you can basically ignore 1st edition altogether. 2nd edition TOR works in the following way:

• SET RESISTANCE Loremaster sets the resistance based on the request (reasonable, bold, or outrageous) - each carries a value 3, 6, or 9, respectively.
• INTRODUCTION One character makes the introduction with Awe, Courtesy, or Riddle and the results of the introduction determine the overall time limit (or number of attempts from the players) - if a success, the time equals the resistance plus one for each ; if failed, the time equals the original resistance, and if the overall council fails, it is a disaster.
• INTERACTION this is the main part of the social interaction. Players choose a social skill and the Loremaster tells them the attitude of the encounter - Reluctant (lose 1d), Open (no mod), Friendly (gain 1d). The players roll to gain the number of successes needed to equal or beat the Resistance. They have a number of chances equal to the Resistance time limit set above.