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"Spare him!" comes an unexpected cry from the boy.  The other two strangers look toward him, and there is a brief, three-sided conversation in a tongue strange to the ears of the companions, though to Esgalwen it brings to mind descriptions of the speech of the folk of Rhûn, and those who dwell in unknown lands further east. 

Finally the disguised woman addresses her fellow Northmen in the Westron tongue.  "We would claim this man as our thrall, for we have travelled far and are left footsore by his pursuit.  His misdeeds to us he may repay by bearing our burdens."  Looking over her shoulder at the boy and the crone, she adds in a lower tone "And if we have not imposed enough upon your favour, I would ask us that you grant us the simple boon of telling us the way to the country of the Leofrings, for we are lost in an unfamiliar land." 

 :ooc: so, just to make sure I'm tracking. They are citing injuries to their folk and the punishment is thralldom even though he was pursuing them through the wild?

 :ooc: waiting on ooc response before Grimbeorn says anything.

:ooc: Let's try some Insight to see if any of you can puzzle anything else out here:

Arbogast


Esgalwen


Grimbeorn


Hathcyn

The note of bitterness in the woman's voice is clear, and speaks to the companions of grief still fresh.  Their suspicions are confirmed when she says "This one, and his lackeys, have dogged our steps long ere we crossed the river, when still we were seven in number." 

Esgalwen and Arbogast, each in their own manner, mark also the deference which both the tall woman and the crone show, perhaps without realising that they do so, to the boy.  To both the Fire-watcher, raised among a folk who know no kings, and to the southern Ranger whose folk await a king who may never come, their manners speak of years of carefully-maintained obeisance that can mean but one thing: the boy is royalty.

"This one is dangerous, he has betrayed his kin and lord. There is not a person among us that do not have some grudge or claim to this man's life."

 :ooc: Sorry as a player I don't recall, do we know of/met the Leofrings?

Grimbeorn, axe still to neck of Wulfdan, "Do you accept their terms?  If not, you will suffer my judgment and this matter will be over once and for all."  To the others, he nods, "Bind them and strip them of items of note."

"Wolfslayer." Hathyn addressed Grimbeorn again but clearly considered the matter with Wulfdan settled.

"These men may have been in the company of Wulfdan and participated upon the attack of these people. Of that I have no doubt."

He looked at the beaten men who had surrendered.

"They are not of your folk, and though we may fight them in open battle it is not proper for us to pass judgment upon them and sentence them to slavery or thralldom. They are the folk of Lady Aestid, and for her in this matter I will dare to speak. In battle we may slay them, but surrender them to outsiders we would be no better than other traders in human flesh."

He eyed the two men, the meaning and slight against Viglund pregnant in the air.

"Kill them, or set them free. On behalf of Aestid and those who will be my kinsmen I ask a token of goodwill on their behalf and when our bussiness here is ended they be released. Perhaps they will return home and be wiser for the act."

 

Esgalwen nodded, "Hathcyn's words speak truth. Do not offer up these men as chattel - defeated foe or not."

"I have no mind of that right now; I am only concerned with Wulfdan.  They will be secured, stripped, and questioned to ensure we understand the full truth of their presence here before determining our course with them."  He turns back to his enemy on the ground awaiting a response.

Eyes wide and face wan, Wulfdan looks up at his former aethling, a coward's desire to live at any cost clearly warring with the need of a high-born warrior for honour and dignity.  In the end, the finality of the latter overwhelms the price of the former, and he pleads with those who have bested him.  "Spare me, I beg you and I... will go whither I am bid and bear what burdens I am given..." 

His former followers, sturdy men in the service of a cruel master, do not deign to hide their scorn. 

Quote from: GandalfOfBorg on Dec 21, 2021, 05:11 AMSorry as a player I don't recall, do we know of/met the Leofrings?

:ooc: Met, no.  Heard of, yes.  In particular Grimbeorn (via Anduin Lore) and Esgalwen (Folk Lore) will know a little more than the basics of them.  In particular, they know that Leofring bands migrate up and down the western side of the Vales in the warmer months, and they  were reputedly friendly with the servants of Dol Guldur in the years leading up to the Battle of the Five Armies. 

Also, while we're at it, let's see how Hathcyn's words are taken by the surviving Viglundings.  After all, they'll take the news back to Fystenheorth...

Inspire(TN 14):

:ooc: Interesting.  Looks like a small number of Viglundings are going to start to hold our Longspear in higher regard. 

:csu: for the Personality AP.

 :ooc: what's the plan here? Are we deciding something or looking for more information?

:ooc: I think we were waiting on the holidays to be over.

A pause for breath and to bind the still-bleeding arm of Wulfdan becomes, for the sake of the boy and crone, a pause for a midday meal and to recover somewhat from the exhaustion of a long and hard pursuit.  As broth boils to soften salted meat and stale bread, the tall stranger tells the tale of her unlikely trio. 

"Athala am I, Hanno's daughter, born to the folk of Leof in the dark years when the Necromancer ruled the Vales.  For to be a rider and a herder of horses was I raised until the day, nineteen summers ago, when orcs and Men from the great forest fell fast upon our clan.  Many they slew, my mother and father among them, and those who fell not before them they took in thralldom and traded us for coin to the Easterlings." 

At this word, the crone says something in an eastern tongue, and a brief three-way discussion ensues that ends only when the boy, his head now swollen and clearly paining him, speaks five sharp words and motions toward Athala, clearly indicating that she should continue. 

"There, in the lands beyond the Sea of Rhûn, I dwelled for many years in bondage.  My masters were cruel, but well they taught me to be a guardian.  When Prince Sanjar," she says, indicating the boy "was born, I was sworn to his protection, and to give my life for his.  Faithfully have I served him, and for this he has rewarded me with my freedom." 

Darkness clouds her face, furrowing her brows, and she frowns beneath her false beard.  "But a change has come to the east.  Servants of a new god whose sign is the lidless eye have seized power, and Sanjar's family has been slain as mine was long ago.  It was all I could do to spirit him and Nazhin, his nurse, from the palace and bring them westwards.  I had hoped to find my own people once more, for we have heard from fellow travellers that the Necromancer has been driven from his fastness in the forest and kinder folk now make their homes in the Vales." 

She glances sidelong at Wulfdan.  "Such folk we have not yet found." 


:ooc: Sorry for the wait, guys.  Normal story service will now resume.

:ooc: Also, some Insight rolls are called for:

Arbogast


Esgalwen


Grimbeorn


Hathcyn

:ooc: Whoa - looks like everyone's oblivious unless Arbogast or Grimbeorn want to drop some Hope on the roll.  I'm happy to do so, but someone else might like to take the opportunity (and not have more of the GM talking to himself).

:ooc: Esgalwen is plagued with shit rolls and :~~:'s whenever she can get AP's.

Esgalwen sat in silence as the woman spoke, finding some kinship as a woman but also staving off bitter thoughts at the mention of Easterlings. Were these the people that invaded Gondor a millennia ago? Were they kin to the Balchoth? Either way, the ire within Esgalwen burned bright.

"There are people who are true, but much like everywhere else there are those that are less so. No place is wholly good or ill. Up and down the vale you may find folk who have taken to slavery and consorting with Goblins. These Leofrings you speak of I do not know what folk they are or those they have become. If you would journey less far the folk of the Wolfslayer are not so far, but this one here..."

He nodded towards Wulfdan.

"Would be a problem. There are also the Woodmen, though I dont believe they are accepting of thralldom usually. Further south I have not gone, but that grows closer to the Dark Tower of the wood and evil stirs there once again." 

 :ooc: I'll drop a Hope here, let's learn more.

"The lands are not called Wilderland for naught.  For what my people, the Beornings know of the area, is that you have passed the safest realms of men, elves, and dwarves this side of the Misty Mountains in Dale, Mirkwood, and Erebor.  In these parts of the north still dwells the influence of goblin and orc and evil Men from the area of Gundabad, Mirkwood, and the mountains of mist.  The rest is true as Hatchcyn spoke.  Of Leofrings, I only know word and rumor of their league with those of the Shadow here in the north. My counsel would be, if you seek refuge and peace from the coming darkness, head south to my lands and take the Old Road over the mountains into Eriador.  Otherwise, anywhere else you find are eager for those both skilled in the blade or tilling."

At the mention of a road into Eriador, Athala's gaze drops to her hands, her eyes suddenly distant.  Grimbeorn and Arbogast meet each other's gaze, making plain their mutual marking of further words left unspoken, and a desire on Athala's part not to cross the Misty Mountains. 

"If there is other business that would lead you to tarry here," the Son of Beorn adds, "then certainly those you find in the vales south of her will assist you as they may, an you speak my name and tell that you bear my favour." 

There is silence for a while, save only for the dancing of the rye stalks in the wind, before the wide-wandering Leofring woman answers.  "And how shall I satisfy myself that these folk may be trusted?  For many were the servants of the Necromancer years ago, and I am sure that not all of them were slain or driven from these lands.  He who slew my parents and took me as chattel to be sold was a Northman, just as you are.  How shall I know his kin from yours?" 

"Of his name and kindred," speaks Arbogast, "we know naught.  But this I tell you: never were those who swear by the light of the lamp, or by the moon over the Carrock, aught but foes to the Shadow, no matter that the darkness grew deep and the wolf prowled by the door." 

Athala's face remains dark, but the foreign words of Sanjar interrupt the harrowing of long-buried memories and another conversation ensues that the Companions cannot comprehend.  Finally, the Northwoman and Easterlings stand, and Sanjar and Nazhin bow most politely.  "We will go southward," Athala says, as if pronouncing a grave judgement, "and I will find a safe refuge for these two.  Thereafter, it may be that other business shall make demands of me, but my first and foremost duty will be discharged." 

She takes up spear and pack once again as her charges turn their footsore way to the path south.  "I thank you once again for the pains you have taken on our behalf, who are no kin to you and have no claim on your allegiance." 

"Follow the river south. When you come to the Carrock there is a garrison there that charges tolls. Speak the name of Grimbeorn Wolfslayer there and you will find doors opened to you. The men there are true and valiant and it is by there efforts to road is kept open. Farther south on the river the folk become less known to me. Should you pass to the woods again the people from the road south to the Black Tarn river are valiant and true.

If you seek safety dwell among the Beornings. If you seek obscurity the woodmen, if you seek to make a place in the world that is closer to danger but with an opportunity to make a new life then among the people of the Tarn you will find a ready and helpful people seeking settlers."

"And Wulfdan, if ever you are a free man again or I see you underarms your a dead man. I'll not forget or forgive your betrayal on the lake."

Esgalwen watched in silence as the Northwoman led her charges away. A bitter taste still poisoned her palette.

"I fear you release serpents among your folk," she said softly.

"Eh?" grunted Grimbeorn, "Why say you this?"

The Ranger shook her head slowly, replying, "They are Easterlings. They speak the tongue of the Balchoth - raiders of Gondor and Wilderland, alike. You give them freedom and trust, but for me... that be a trust lost, and to be regained hard won."

"It is but a boy and an old woman," answered Hathcyn.

"Aye, that is what they are, but the boy is a prince - and strange to me is their presence here in the Vale." Esgalwen shook away her gloom, "What do we do with him?"

She pointed to where Wulfdan lay wounded.

---

:ooc: Paul - I understand that you probably have some other background reasoning for the two Easterlings and the Northwoman, but I am just playing to what I believe would be Esgalwen's prejudices and resentments. If anything, my post is just fill... unless, of course, I have secretly tapped into your motives.  >:D If so, then we will see if she was right!  ;D

"Eh, maybe so. If there be treachery there, then I will be wrong and it is on me for that.  I weary of constant mistrust and the like of all we meet and I would rather work with a little faith in others.  If I am not wrong, we may have added a new ally.  As you know those in the East may have been in the sway of the Dark Lord, but not everyone."

Hathcyn reflected for a moment. He had never heard or known Esgalwen to speak in such a manner. Always she was foremost in offering aid, but here for the first time were a people whom her folk had history with.

Hathcyn said nothing on the matter at present but decided to keep a closer eye on his friend moving forward and mark better her mood. She had been in the wild and wandering for many years now and she spoke of leaving Dale as facts but with little emotion about it.

"Let us take these two with us north a ways to separate them by some miles and then release them back to their lands. Hopefully wiser for the effort."