Happy Way Too Much Chocolate Day for those who celebrate it!  Story service should resume tomorrow.

  persuade

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)?

"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."

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!" 

Quote from: Telcontar on Mar 27, 2024, 03:22 AM 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. 

Quote from: GandalfOfBorg on Mar 27, 2024, 06:37 AMGwaithlim 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!

Looking at my characters in my Ruins of the North campaign (TOR 2ed) compared to those of our Darkening of Mirkwood (TOR 1e) - the one change between editions that I can say I really like is the effect of Shadow.

Granted our DOM game moves a lot slower than a tabletop game (virtual or non) - still these characters date back to 2015 and Esgalwen has only 5 Shadow (4 temporary and 1 permanent). In the 2ed game, which started two years ago (I think), the characters are struggling with Shadow gain in every adventure phase - needing to dump the temporary Shadow into Shadow Scars to keep moving forward. The rule change is great and makes the monsters a lot more to deal with than just the combat.

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.

  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.

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.