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Esgalwen stood for a moment, her mind trying to comprehend the situation. Nimronyn was still tightly held and poised to stave off an attack or to deliver one. Were they saved? Was it over?

It took the heavy slump of Grimbeorn to bring her back to the moment and she looked around, her eyes falling upon the torch. The Ranger, with her blade still held in her right hand, picked it up and slewed it around to see if there were anymore immediate threats - and there were none. Tyulqin's abode was for her solely and no other spiders were permitted.

Taking the moment, Esgalwen slid Nimronyn into its scabbard and reached into her own pack to draw forth another torch. She lit the one from the other and now the light was doubled. The sight was one of nightmares. Skulls and bones of long dead animals and people adorned the floor, walls, and some hung in macabre patterns from silken drapes, as if in homage to the monster that lived here. All had been tortured and consumed by the Weaver.

"Here," she said to Arbogast, as she handed him a torch. "Check on Hathcyn... your skills of leechcraft will serve better. I will see to Grimbeorn and try to find our wizard."

Arbogast nodded slowly - his own face a mask of disbelief.

"We must hurry!" Esgalwen whispered. "There is no knowing who will win between the two, and there is no trust that we will not be betrayed. Once done with our companions, we must seek out the River Maiden. If she is here, then we can hopefully free her from her nightmare. If not, then Tauler may have betrayed us in this - Duskwater will still be held under the enchantment of Tyulqin, even if the beast is slain, and the spiders have played a cruel joke."

She immediately moved to Grimbeorn to find the man was merely wearied from the strain of the combat and the corruption of the lair. He nodded to her, "Look for the wizard... I will be fine." And so she bent her will to locating Radagast and whether he lived.

:ooc: Actually, Esgalwen's skill matches Arbogast in rank and favour, so if you want to change my narrative up, Paul, feel free.

:ooc: Oh Esgalwen, always so self-effacing!

EDIT: Arbogast will try a Healing roll to see whether he can do anything for Hathcyn:


Doug, feel free to do the same for Esgalwen and Radagast - I'll have some narration up in a sec.

Crouching by Hathcyn's still form, Arbogast bends himself to the task at hand: staunching the bleeding and making certain that his friend yet draws breath.  Having done what he can, he finds Esgalwen examining Radagast by the light of a flickering torch.  The Wizard is deathly pale, but his eyes flicker rapidly behind their lids.  Esgalwen, her own face caked with sweat, grime and spider ichor, meets the Fire-watcher's gaze.  "He lives," she says, "but I know not whether to try to wake him." 

"You think some ill fate may befall him if you do?"

"I think a foe greater than that which we faced came upon this place, and might follow him if we draw him back." 

Arbogast heaves a great but silent sigh.  "I have not the wit to know such things, but I do know that we shall want for his light if we are forced to make our way without it.  Grimbeorn," he calls over his shoulder, "of us all, you are wisest in spider-lore.  If we go abroad from here without the Wizard's protection, will they pursue us?" 

"Ah!" grunts the son of Beorn as he finds new bruises and aches.  "Nay, I would wager.  The greater part of them will be chittering away in argument until one of them bends the rest to their way of thinking.  Or if not, for a few days yet at least.  Even moving as they do, they will be slow to find us if we go with care." 

"Then we should move as soon as we are able."  To Esgalwen, the Fire-watcher simply says "wake him if you will, and you can, for I would sooner he carry himself." 


:ooc: Doug, I'll do a Healing roll for Esgalwen to see whether she can bring Radagast around.  If you'd rather she didn't make the attempt, just ignore it. 

:ooc: That's a success, if you want it.  Provisionally :csu:. 

Matt, I'm going to assume that you wait for the half-hour necessary to regain Endurance equal to your Heart score (bringing it up to 8).  Tom, Hathcyn doesn't get to do that 'cause he's Wounded. 

The captured soul of Duskwater is still, somehow, sitting on its plinth in the centre of the chamber, though now spattered with blood and lightly dusted with crud that's fallen from the ripped-away ceiling.  The web-sacs holding... something or other are dangling limply from between the severed anchor-strands. 

And in case you hadn't worked it out yet, I'm going to make you walk all the way home.

 :ooc: Yea, I am good with the Healing roll to wake Radagast.

Esgalwen is at a loss, though, as to what we need to do for Duskwater. I can see her looking to craft a bier for Hathcyn.

:ooc: There's certainly plenty of deadfall about.  I'm not going to ask for a Craft roll, though you can make one if you can think of something interesting to happen if she fails. 

 :ooc: i thought i was unconscious for six days? Either way I think one of the conscious characters should poke around a bit. We'll never find anything interesting if we never make any treasure rolls. 

:ooc: He's Wounded on top of that.  Poor guy's been through a lot.

 :ooc: Yeah, wounded and unconscious.

As such and 'ex personum ludum' I invoke the ancestral right as established in 1977. LOOT THE ROOM!

 :ooc: Yes I agree with sticking around for a bit to rest, I mean Arbogast's ministrations won't be short.

We have need to addressing Duskwater's essence -- taking it back or trying to figure out how to release it, etc. -- and we would be remiss to investigating this lair while we are not otherwise engaged.

Esgalwen cradles the Wizard's head, her hands seeking for, and finding, bleeding.  His copious and wild hair, in which tiny things still scurry and hide, appears to have cushioned his skull however, and she finds no broken bones.  So close and helpless, he looks so very old, his tanned skin spotted like stained parchment, his hair and beard streaked with the grey of granite peaks beneath the filth of long travel.  Still, though, he lives, and she ministers to him as she would a warrior of Gondor whose helm has shielded him from an otherwise-mortal blow.  Slowly, his eyes still, and finally open.  "Why, it's you!" he says. 

As Esgalwen goes about his work, and Arbogast his, Grimbeorn, his hands still shaking from the terror of battle, sets to ripping apart the web-sacs to reveal the no-doubt stolen treasures within. 


:ooc: Okay, here's how the treasures work.  There's four of them, and each is equivalent to having rolled a :g: when finding a hoard of Treasure.  That means that each PC (including Hathcyn - even though he's unconscious, destiny can work its will for him) gets to roll a number of d6 equal to their unspent XP, to a maximum of six. 

If you don't roll a :%:, your share of the treasure is a precious object, and we'll work out what kind of jewel has tumbled out. 

If you roll a single :%:, you can choose to find either a precious object as above or a wondrous artefact (in which case, you'll need to spend XP equal to half the dice you rolled). 

If you roll two or more :%:-es, you have the option above, or you can spend XP equal to the number of dice rolled to find a more powerful wondrous artefact or an enchanted piece of wargear. 

In the case of anything enchanted, I'll let you know what you've found.

:ooc: Esgalwen has 2 unspent XP and so...

:ooc: Hahahhahhaaa! This seems typical for her this adventure.

 :ooc: This seems as good a time as any He will get to bad ass swag.
7 XP

 :ooc: BOOYAH Option 3 all the way. Artifact me!

 :ooc: 23 XP remaining...

 :00:

 :ooc: No worries, Grimbeorn is in the same luck as the Dunadan lady.

:ooc: Right then, let's roll some dice!  Arbogast has 15 (!) unspent XP, but I think he already has enough cool toys so I'm only going to roll for four of them:

:ooc: Three pretty trinkets, coming up:

Arbogast





Esgalwen





Grimbeorn

His weariness notwithstanding, Grimbeorn tears energetically at the web-sacs until out tumble the treasures with which the Weaver's allegiance to the Dark Lord was bought: rings of silver and gold, and a circlet of copper, each set with great pearls that gleam red-gold in the torchlight.  The last sac reveals, not a pretty trifle that might adorn a rich lord at court, but a helm wrought in the mode of an older and grander race of Men, for strange as the craftsmanship is to the Son of Beorn, he reckons it to be a treasure of some long-passed captain of Westernesse.  Its ridged peak high and its cheek-guards fashioned into feathered wings, its steel and bronze shine through the filth and grime of many centuries, and the gem of adamant upon its brow is as clear and bright as the day it was first cut. 

The strength of his limbs having turned already to a burning weariness, he lifts the helm - so light it seems doubtful that it could protect aught from anything - and places it near Hathcyn's recumbent form.  "You, who have suffered the most to win this day, are most deserving.  Wear it well, my friend." 


:ooc: Arbogast and Esgalwen both come away with pearl rings worth, respectively, 100 and 80 Treasure.  Grimbeorn's copper-and-pearl circlet is worth 60 Treasure.  Hathcyn has to spend seven XP (:csu:) and receives a Numenorean Helm with the Ancient Cunning Make quality - it adds +4 to his Protection rolls and its normal encumberance (6) is reduced by three points, or his Valour score, whichever is higher.

:ooc: Questions? Comments?  Suggestions?

As usual, there's more to the helm than immediately meets the eye but the rest will have to be opened up in gameplay.

Hathcyn is out of it for six days so there is very little that I can contribute at the moment.

Does the Gem shine like a falshlight in unnatural darkness?

Does it play Fortunate Son by Credence Clearwater Revival when you ride a horse into battle?

Will it allow the bearer to roll die results like they were the LM instead of a player?

Stoked to have a precious.

 :ooc: Please say its the third even if the others are cool.

Grimbeorn is ready to leave once they acquired the items and the short rest has been had.  "No point in waiting to see what happens next; we must get Hathcyn out of here and put distance between us and the feud."

Esgalwen closely watches Radagast as Grimbeorn calls for their retreat from this place, "We must first finish what we came for, Grimbeorn. The spirit of Duskwater is here and we must see if she can be freed. Once done, we must prepare a makeshift bier to carry Hathcyn from this place."

To her first point she looked to Arbogast, "Fire-watcher, is it possible to release her from her prison?"

Arbogast can only offer a helpless shrug in response, for it is not given to him to know the undoings of sorceries.  Radagast, on the other hand, lets out a bone-rattling cough that ends in a wheezed "My word, yes."  Rising with care, the pain hidden on his face but plain in his careful and halting movements, he picks his way across the uneven ground to take up the prison of Duskwater from its plinth.  "Hello again, my old friend," he says to the moisture-dappled ball, and it seems that it glows a pale blue in response. 

Then, the Wizard sets to work, his eyes closed and his fingertips examining the surface of the webbed ball in minute detail, all the while his lips moving slightly with the mutterings of a spell.  At last, his fingers halt their movements and his eyes snap open again.  "Yes!  Here it is!" he exclaims, bringing the ball close to where Esgalwen holds the torch.  "Do you see?" he asks her. 

At first, the Ranger is puzzled for nothing does she see in his extended hand.  "Move the light, if you would," Radagast asks her, as Grimbeorn and the Fire-watcher gather close.  "Slowly now," the Wizard cautions as Esgalwen shifts the torch this way and that.  At last they see, stretched taught across his fingertips, a thread so fine as to be nearly invisible, delicate as the balance of a breath between inhalation and exhalation, stretching out past them all. 

"This thread bound the heart of Duskwater to the will of the Weaver," he says, "and if we follow it to her, she may easily unbind it herself."   


:ooc: I didn't get time to do this before my holiday, but Tylquin's treasures are Tainted - everyone who took one (which is all of us) gains a point of Shadow automatically and three further points if they fail a TN 16 Corruption roll which, of course, is affected by Weariness:

Arbogast


Esbalwen


Grimbeorn


Hathcyn

:ooc: I've marked off a single Shadow point for everybody (:csu:).  Esgalwen (or 'Esbalwen' as I've for some reason called her) has a failed roll per the above but can get herself over the line with a :vv: spend. 

:ooc: Yep, spend the :vv:

:ooc: I mean, it's a much better deal in the long run... right?

Though their bodies ache and their souls are weary, the Fellowship knows that they dare not tarry long, for who knows whether, or when, either Tylquin or Tauler might return?  Fashioning a crude bier from deadfall branches and Hathcyn's own cloak and spear, Esgalwen and Arbogast bear him out of the twisting passage and once more into the scarcely less confined darkness of trackless Mirkwood.  Grimbeorn, working hard not to show how desperately weary he truly is, follows behind keeping torches held high as long as the prepared wood and oil last, and thereafter bearing lit brands that shed far more smoke than light. 

Before them all goes Radagast, back bent, lips ever a-mutter, his concentration seeming absolute as he follows the subtlest of Tylquin's threads south and west, toward the lands where Men might still live wholesomely. 


:ooc:  We're back to Journeying again!  Hathcyn is obviously out for the next six days, so anything that arises before then that requires the attention of a Huntsman will automatically fail.  Grimbeorn is Weary and Arbogast and Esgalwen, due to the difficulty of carrying Hathycn's unconscious body as well as all their own gear, will be as well until at least the point when he wakes. 

With that all established, let's see how Grimbeorn's Travel roll (still at TN 16) treats you:

:ooc: That's a failure not even Hope can fix.  Further developments to follow.

 :ooc: Failure for Grimbeorn?

 :ooc: that looks like a pass to me

:ooc: Grimbeorn is :zz: so the 3's and 1's do not add in.

Esgalwen toiled with the burden of Hathcyn and the gear on her back. The pain in her arms was real and it seemed that it would not have an end. Even with Arbogast on the other end of the bier, the task was brutally hard. The stress of going within the spiders' realm; the stress of the combat and seeing one of her friends fall and not knowing if he would live; the stress of knowing they had so far to go - the forest was wide and they were deep within and the thought made her weep to herself. She was dehydrated and so no tears made any tracks in the dirt on her face - just the quaking sobs that she tried to hide.

Mirkwood had torn at her will and her strength and she was not sure if it had won. In fact, all of her experiences since coming here had left more sorrow than joy. Esgalwen tried to remember a happy day to bolster herself... the meeting of Arbogast's children... a smile. But then sadness at the loss of his youngest. The meeting of Neldir (https://rpg.avioc.org/boards/index.php?msg=25846) in the grotto within Thranduil's fortress... a smile - the Elf had helped heal her mind and soul that night with his fair songs. The meeting of Tate and his incessant attempts to win her heart... again a smile.

Yes she had found joy in this hard forest realm. She stretched her neck left and right to try to ease the pain there and shifted her shoulders. Her eyes fell on Hathcyn and she murmured to herself, "This may take more days to escape this dreadful wood than it did for us to get here, but you will see your wife again. I will find the strength for you, Hathcyn."

Once spoken, the words seemed hollow as again the oppressive forest sapped at her will. The Ranger sighed and focused on making each step - trying not to trip.

Quote from: tomcat on Jul 11, 2022, 11:19 AM:ooc: Grimbeorn is :zz: so the 3's and 1's do not add in.

:ooc: Do not discuss this further, lest I recall that the same applied to his Corruption test (https://rpg.avioc.org/boards/index.php?msg=34184) (and Hathcyn's). 

That aside, let's see who's going to have to deal with whatever's about to come up:

:ooc: That'll be a roll for Esgalwen, as look-out. 

:ooc: Awareness test

TN -- awareness 3d

:ooc:  (-D

This is absolutely typical for this chapter.

I will spend a :vv: if it makes a difference.

As her feet make tread after heavy tread across the root-littered moulder of the forest floor, the Lady of Gondor strives to keep her head up and gaze raised no matter that it hangs heavy.  Every effort does she give to listen out for hidden things going about behind trunks and above branches, no matter that her sorrows draw her thoughts ever inward. 

Is this perhaps why the shadowed trees begin to grow leering faces?  Is this why, in the lonely hours of the night (or perhaps even the day, for such distinctions have long since been lost by the companions) the noises of small and stealthy forest creatures take on the seeming of something more sinister than spider-prey?  The change is so gradual and so insidious that, when Radagast at the head of the company brushes close to an ancient oak that suddenly opens a ghastly, tooth-filled maw and any number of hideous eyes, she lets forth a cry of alarm, sudden and loud enough that her companions start mightily, and Radagast very nearly drops Duskwater's ball. 

"My goodness, whatever is it?" the Wizard asks as her companions immediately ready their axes. 

"There!" she exclaims in return, pointing to the woody jaws that clack and gnash, denied their fleshy prize. 

"There what?" asks Grimbeorn, warily approaching, the company's last torch held in his left hand, Bear Claw in his right. 

"It's but a tree," Arbogast says.  "No more a danger to us than any other.  Why?  What do you see, Esgalwen?"


:ooc: Esgalwen needs to make either a Wisdom or Awareness roll (whichever is worse) to see whether she starts to see past the tricks of her own mind.  Turns out, 'whicever is worse' is Awareness, and the TN is 16.  I'll happily take your roll, Doug.  The Hope spend makes it a success

Esgalwen will slowly get a hold of what she's seeing and hearing.  She avoids gaining a Shadow point and becoming Miserable, though with now nine Hope and seven Shadow (I've swapped her temporary and permament scores around - same with Grimbeorn, who seems to have also fallen afoul of my shoddy form-reading) it's a close-run thing anyway...  :csu:

:ooc: Onward!  Another Travel roll from our Guide:

Is it nigh on a week after the Fellowship of the Helm leaves the hidden hall of Tylquin, or have they trod this nightmare march for merely a day?  Time has lost all meaning and distance any significance as Radagast, his fingers slowly tracing the Weaver's thread, leads the company south and west.  Whenever the marching ceases, Hathcyn's companions moisten his lips with thin broth, but his body lies as if dead, so slack that they dare not give him solid fare lest he choke upon it. 

The weight of the Fox-goer blisters the hands of his friends as the hills at the heart of Mirkwood spread apart, giving way between them to deep and marshy valleys wherein stands of birch and alder grow thick and unwholesome mosses and fungus sprout from trunks that seem to rot as they stand.  Perhaps it is the dampness soaking into his clothes as his bearers, exhausted from their labour, rest on a patch of reasonably solid ground, or perhaps the dreadful venom of Tylquin has at last run its course.  Whatever the reason, Hathcyn gives a croaking gasp as his eyes open, wide with the terror of a battle already past.  Desperately, he grabs for his spear and struggles to free it from its bindings, not comprehending what has happened to it.  All he receives as reward for his efforts, however, is a series of dry heaves that wrack his body until it lies still again. 

Finally, he wrestles himself to sit upright.  "Where are we?" he asks. 


:ooc: Let's see who the next failure plot-relevant roll will come from:

:ooc: And it'll be Arbogast!  Let's see what he can do - I'll add narration based on his success or failure on an Explore roll:

:ooc: That's a failure (as he's temporarily Weary) and I don't want to spend Arbogast's Hope down any more than I absolutely have to (he won't stop being Miserable until it rises above his Shadow score).  Everyone gains two points of Fatigue (this happened with Esgalwen's thing as well, but I forgot to say so - :csu:) 

I'll note also that the injured party members have been recovering Endurance - Grimbeorn at two points per day, Hathcyn at one.  Even though Grimbeorn's Endurance (20) is now above his Fatigue (19) he's still Weary - he won't get out of that until you all get a decent rest in a safe place.   

Arbogast watches his friends cluster around Hathcyn, all thought of further progress set aside for a while as they welcome the Longspear back to the waking world and see that he gets food into his belly along with the tale of the fulfilment of their bargain with Tauler.  Try though he might, the Fire-watcher cannot share their joy at Hathcyn's recovery.  Better you had remained sleeping, he thinks, than to wake into this never-ending torment!  Better we all remained sleeping until the end comes to the world.

Slipping away, unnoticed for the moment, he resolves to scout what he deems to be the way ahead, trusting the wood-wisdom of his folk to steer him true.  Not far has he gone from the bare tuft where Hathcyn sits, however, before he trips over a thick and sticky thread, tumbling to the marshy soil with a wet thud.  At once, the authors of his misfortune are upon him, venom dripping from their mandibles as they close on their meal. 

"SPIDERS!" he calls.  "HELP ME!" 

:ooc: Battle rolls for the upcoming fight - remember, everyone is Weary (temporarily or otherwise):
Arbogast


Esgalwen


Grimbeorn


Hathcyn

:ooc: That's one die for everyone except Hathcyn, who gets two.  I'll tag Esgalwen's 'Adventurous' trait (she's never encountered a fight quite like this before) and Grimbeorn's Spider-Lore for AP, and Hathcyn just straight up gets one because he didn't get a success before fighting Tylquin.  Arbogast, already having two AP in the relevant track, gets bugger-all. 

 :ooc: Mirkwood, yelp review is going to be strong dislike, dont visit.

 :ooc: Come for the ancient trees and stifling air, stay for the magical river and haughty elves, and leave from to spiders and claustrophobia.  Love the treasure, the hosts are something to be desired. 2/5 :-X-: .

Though the tiredness of the flesh persists, spirits remain high as the companions tromp their way back to where Radagast stands, his hands still cradling Duskwater's ball and the thread that connects it to its owner.  Stock-still he stands, his eyes fixed on something half-seen between the trees.  As Hathcyn, his new helm proud upon his head, nears his side he seems at last to notice their return, his head inclining the barest measure toward his companions as he hisses "Be still!" 

It is to no avail.  As his attention wavers, whatever spell he was working is broken and its subject stirs.  For a moment, all that reaches them through the deep gloom of Mirkwood is a leathery sound like the unfurling of the cloaks worn by the fisher-folk of the Long Lake.  Then the beating of wings reveals a great and hideous bat, its eyes piercingly bright in the darkness, as it rushes overhead and vanishes, its wingspan seeming no impediment to its passage through the twisted branches. 

Beneath his battered hat and above his tangled beard, Radagast pales.  "We are revealed," he says bluntly.  "It will carry word of our presence back to its master.  We must hurry away - come!  Come!"  and with that, he begins following the thread again, almost stumbling in newfound haste. 


:ooc: So, here's the thing: Doug's multiple :~~: rolls during the fight tipped you over into a Revelation episode, but there didn't seem to be a suitably dramatic way to make it happen during that encounter.  So now it's hanging over your head to trigger in the next scene. 

In the meantime, Grimbeorn needs to make another Travel roll as your guide:

:ooc: Huh.  For some reason, the picture flipped as the post uploaded.  Picture that thing upside-down, if you would be so kind. 

Grimbeorn's roll was good enough that you won't have another travel episode before the end of your journey - congratulations on reaching the edge of Mirkwood!  Things are now coming to a conclusion...