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A Reprieve

Started by tomcat, Dec 11, 2017, 08:04 AM

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tomcat

Dec 11, 2017, 08:04 AM Last Edit: Dec 13, 2017, 05:09 PM by tomcat
The wolves now gone and no longer a threat, Grimbeorn - along with Esgalwen and her bow - continued the hunt for the rams that lived along the foothills of the mountains.

Is was not long before the task was finished. The animals were found in the rocky, steep cliffs and the Dúnadan brought one down with a single arrow. The Beorning quickly commenced the task of stripping and cleaning the ewe, though they would wait until they returned to camp to set it over fire.

It took the rest of the day and night, but at last the meat was cooked enough that it would not spoil on them for a few days, and that is all they needed. With the new morning, the camp was broken again and they moved on.

Snow was falling in thick flakes and it hushed the forest. It had the affect of lightening their moods, for the oppressiveness of Mirkwood was no longer on them and they could see the sky. They marched in single file with Esgalwen leading the group - picking out a course through the changing terrain. It was not her homeland, but still the Ranger was able to keep their direction with the stars and landmarks.

Saer Aegas slowly rotated from their right, as they marched around its heels, to right flank when its northern face was finally reached. Grimbeorn was correct - they only needed a few days' more of marching. Now they only had to find the cave-lair that Orophal spoke of a month past when they sat within the Elven bower.

Save for Morirúsë, the companions began to feel the bite of cold in fingers and toes - the Elf only seeming to be affected by weariness. Arbogast began to worry about exposure, for soon they would be higher than the forest and no longer would gain the benefit of it breaking the wind. They marched in silence.

It was Morirúsë who heard it first with his keen ears. The sound of chimes tinkling softly, almost mutedly, in the distance.
Narrator: Darkening of Mirkwood | Chronicle of the North | Tempest Rising | To Boldly Go | Welcome to the 501st!
Esgalwen [♦♦♦♦♦○] Dmg 10/12  |  Edge 8  |  Injury 16/18
Nimronyn [Sindarin Pale gleam] superior keen, superior grievous longsword - orc bane
Foe-slaying - when attacking a bane creature, reduce Edge of weapon by value of bearer's Valour

Shadow bane [when in Forward stance, add 1 success die to each attack]
Skirmisher [if carried encumbrance is 12 or less, increase Parry by +3 when in close combat stance]

Telcontar

Bits of frost spotted the trail, with deeper places of snow covering where the sun seldom or weakly shone. Morirúsë was silent as he trudged around with not even a song coming to his lips. His mind was numb, as his body was numb, little of the outside world made an impact upon him. Lightly his feet fell upon the snow, leaving the barest of signs. While the wind blew in his hair, but no trace did the cold wind show on his face.

The elf felt the press of the starless night about him and he recalled straining his ears to hear for signs of the Orcs that pursued them. The day's battle was long and hard fought though it was they who were broken and scattered. Few companions were left huddled in the dark the wounded without succor, the hale overburdened. The silence broken by the tinkling of bells... mounted elves....Maedhros lived! The eldest son of Feanor rallied the scattered gleanings of his folk...

Morirúsë stopped in his tracks and raised his head motioning his companions to halt.
"The wind carries more than the chill breeze. I hear chimes muted and distant, but something wholesome none the less in this land bereft of joy."
THE GAME MUST GO ON!

Hathcyn
Great Spear
2h.  4d :00: 9 :dmg: Edge 8 Injury 18

Eclecticon

Arbogast walks through the thinning forest with his cloak pulled tightly around him, wishing he had thought to borrow a hood when he was among his kin in Woodmen-Town.  Never far from his thoughts, the question of his family gnaws at him.  There was frost yet upon the banks of the Tarn when I left home, and soon it will return.  Lindwine is strong and hale, but my daughters are so tiny, and there are so many calamities that can befall infants...

The Noldo's words rouse him from his fears.  As carefully as he can, he listens for the chimes his companion describes.


:ooc: Usual deal - using Explore and Natural Alertness to get an overview of the nearby terrain - especially where the sound is coming from.  Further post to follow based on the result.

:00: 1d12 : 4, total 4
Rolled 3d6 : 6, 2, 1, total 9
Reason is a tool.  Try to remember where you left it.  - John Clarke

The Warden's Axe: :dmg: 5/7, Edge 9, Injury 18/20
Woodcrafty - In wooded areas, Parry is based on favoured Wits score.
Character sheet

Eclecticon

Dec 11, 2017, 03:40 PM #3 Last Edit: Dec 11, 2017, 03:45 PM by Eclecticon
"I hear them," the Fire-watcher says, "but cold and weariness dull my senses and the country reveals itself not to me.  Do you mark from where the sound comes?" 
Reason is a tool.  Try to remember where you left it.  - John Clarke

The Warden's Axe: :dmg: 5/7, Edge 9, Injury 18/20
Woodcrafty - In wooded areas, Parry is based on favoured Wits score.
Character sheet

tomcat

:ooc: Esgalwen will bend an ear...

TN 12 awareness 2d
:00: 1d12 : 9, total 9
Rolled 2d6 : 2, 1, total 3

Narrator: Darkening of Mirkwood | Chronicle of the North | Tempest Rising | To Boldly Go | Welcome to the 501st!
Esgalwen [♦♦♦♦♦○] Dmg 10/12  |  Edge 8  |  Injury 16/18
Nimronyn [Sindarin Pale gleam] superior keen, superior grievous longsword - orc bane
Foe-slaying - when attacking a bane creature, reduce Edge of weapon by value of bearer's Valour

Shadow bane [when in Forward stance, add 1 success die to each attack]
Skirmisher [if carried encumbrance is 12 or less, increase Parry by +3 when in close combat stance]

tomcat

Esgalwen nodded at her friends, for she heard the sound as well. It was a tinkling of metal on metal, or glass on glass...or was it just the rattle of ice that now hung where water once sprung.

The wholesome feeling was strong for Morirúsë and he followed it without a word to his companions. The Elf climbed an embankment of stone and fir trees, climbing ever up, while behind him the others followed silently. The Noldo gave a slight sigh of relief when there suddenly appeared a well-made stairwell. Stones delicately cut and placed, and showing only the slightest bit of wear from time.

It became easier to continue up and anticipation grew within them all. Along with the tinkling chimes now came the sound of water bubbling and splashing.

Morirúsë topped the stairs and stared about in contentment. It was an Elf-made gazebo of stone and in its center the remains of a fount still gushed with water. The spring of water was clear and cold, but pure...and blessed. The Noldo knew it was the remains of some settlement of old - not of the Silvan Elves of Mirkwood, but one made by the hands of his people, or at least those of the Sindar. It was clear to see in the architecture and runes that still were evident in the stonework.

Esgalwen was enchanted. It was beautiful. It was here undisturbed. It was wholesome.

Arbogast could not believe how he felt. The ache in his legs, arms, and back...they faded. It was not that he no longer felt the weariness of the road, but more that he felt at peace. The Woodman knew that any rest here would bring true relief from their pains.

Grimbeorn also was content. The inner fire that burned with his animal-nature acquiesced and he let down his guard. He knew it was safe, though he knew not how.

"Edhil bar," said Morirúsë, for it was truly a settlement of the Elven-folk from days when the forest was called Greenwood the Great.

Esgalwen unhitched her pack and weapon belt and wiped her hands on her trousers. They still were far too dirty for her liking, but she asked anyway. "Morirúsë, might I take a drink from the fount?"
Narrator: Darkening of Mirkwood | Chronicle of the North | Tempest Rising | To Boldly Go | Welcome to the 501st!
Esgalwen [♦♦♦♦♦○] Dmg 10/12  |  Edge 8  |  Injury 16/18
Nimronyn [Sindarin Pale gleam] superior keen, superior grievous longsword - orc bane
Foe-slaying - when attacking a bane creature, reduce Edge of weapon by value of bearer's Valour

Shadow bane [when in Forward stance, add 1 success die to each attack]
Skirmisher [if carried encumbrance is 12 or less, increase Parry by +3 when in close combat stance]

tomcat

:ooc: Tom, feel free to give me an Awareness test TN 18 - all else will be a TN 20
Narrator: Darkening of Mirkwood | Chronicle of the North | Tempest Rising | To Boldly Go | Welcome to the 501st!
Esgalwen [♦♦♦♦♦○] Dmg 10/12  |  Edge 8  |  Injury 16/18
Nimronyn [Sindarin Pale gleam] superior keen, superior grievous longsword - orc bane
Foe-slaying - when attacking a bane creature, reduce Edge of weapon by value of bearer's Valour

Shadow bane [when in Forward stance, add 1 success die to each attack]
Skirmisher [if carried encumbrance is 12 or less, increase Parry by +3 when in close combat stance]

Eclecticon

:ooc: Awareness roll, because you never know. 

:00: 1d12 : 9, total 9
Rolled 2d6 : 3, 3, total 6
Reason is a tool.  Try to remember where you left it.  - John Clarke

The Warden's Axe: :dmg: 5/7, Edge 9, Injury 18/20
Woodcrafty - In wooded areas, Parry is based on favoured Wits score.
Character sheet

Eclecticon

Arbogast gazes about in wonder at the ancient stonework, wondering at the skill of those that wrought it.  But then his gaze stretches further, to the vastness of northern Mirkwood.  Below the gazebo, the slopes of Saer Aegas stretch away beneath an evergreen coat of pines and firs.  Beyond that, the forest is a sea of autumnal oranges and reds that roll in the wind as if tossed by tremendous waves.  Above, birds fly, and he thinks of the eagles that bore them from the Millfort a seeming age ago, and the Woodland Realm that lies somewhere beneath the wondrous colour. 

From here, as he sits on the edge of the gazebo, the wood seems a wholesome place, bearing no visible trace of the shadow that has long lain upon it.  Weary still, but warmed by the subtle workings of a now-diminishing folk, the Fire-watcher weeps for what once was, and what might one day be again, his tears cutting clear paths across cheeks long given over to the grime of travel and trackless places.  The spectacle is captivating, and for time unknown he stares, transfixed by a longing for something he has never before known. 
Reason is a tool.  Try to remember where you left it.  - John Clarke

The Warden's Axe: :dmg: 5/7, Edge 9, Injury 18/20
Woodcrafty - In wooded areas, Parry is based on favoured Wits score.
Character sheet

Telcontar

 :ooc: i'll make the roll and then get a post up.
Rolled 1d12 : 5, total 5

Rolled 4d6 : 2, 2, 3, 1, total 8
THE GAME MUST GO ON!

Hathcyn
Great Spear
2h.  4d :00: 9 :dmg: Edge 8 Injury 18

Telcontar

The weariness and fatigue in Morirúsë was self evident to all of his companions and he looked distant when asked about the fountain.

"I feel no evil or malice from it. We are high so the water must run deep to well up from such a spring, Ulmo truly must still be in these waters. I feel no danger, but let us be cautious a bit longer in these dark times."

The elf dropped his gear upon the ground and listened to the music of the water for a moment, his heart was a peace again. When he opened his eyes he saw his Woodman friend gazing at the expense of the wood with his tears leaving their tracks upon his grimy face.

"Arbogast, forgive me friend my many faults and failures. Perhaps too long have I tarried here in Middle-earth when all my kin have passed away. I know what you feel, this mix of sorrow and love rolled into one. I have seen so many great horrors and misdeeds. Many of these were by my own hand and my own choosing, but I will help you rid the world of darkness before I too must leave it. Hopefully the deeds of my folk will be lessons to you Children of the Sun that you will not repeat."

The elf smiled and the Woodman saw the good natured side of Morirúsë that sometimes revealed itself. 

"Take your rest friends, I will examine the waters."
THE GAME MUST GO ON!

Hathcyn
Great Spear
2h.  4d :00: 9 :dmg: Edge 8 Injury 18

GandalfOfBorg

 :ooc:
 :00: This dice roll has been tampered with!
Awareness -  1d12 : 1, total 1
Rolled 3d6 : 6, 6, 4, total 16
Brother of Bears bonus if applicable.
Gwaithlim Weapons
Great Bow  Atk: 2d -- Dmg (0h): 7/13/19 -- Edge: 10 -- Injury: 16
Swords       Atk: 2d -- Dmg (1h): 5/11/17 -- Edge: 10 -- Injury: 16
                                    Dmg (2h): 7/13/19 -- Edge: 10 -- Injury: 16

GandalfOfBorg

At his core, Grimbeorn felt this place older than old, something he had only felt briefly in places touched by the Elves or his father's ancestors.  He felt as though if he were a cub again if he didn't know where he was.
Gwaithlim Weapons
Great Bow  Atk: 2d -- Dmg (0h): 7/13/19 -- Edge: 10 -- Injury: 16
Swords       Atk: 2d -- Dmg (1h): 5/11/17 -- Edge: 10 -- Injury: 16
                                    Dmg (2h): 7/13/19 -- Edge: 10 -- Injury: 16

Telcontar

Morirúsë was hopeful of his instincts, but still cautious in these dark days. He approached the spring of water and examined the stones and runes. He hummed softly to himself and whispered soothing sounds, like beast tamer does to horses, as he approached the source of the spring. 
THE GAME MUST GO ON!

Hathcyn
Great Spear
2h.  4d :00: 9 :dmg: Edge 8 Injury 18

tomcat

:ooc: Esgalwen will give the Awareness test a try

TN 20 awareness 2d
:00: 1d12 : 1, total 1
Rolled 2d6 : 3, 1, total 4


Narrator: Darkening of Mirkwood | Chronicle of the North | Tempest Rising | To Boldly Go | Welcome to the 501st!
Esgalwen [♦♦♦♦♦○] Dmg 10/12  |  Edge 8  |  Injury 16/18
Nimronyn [Sindarin Pale gleam] superior keen, superior grievous longsword - orc bane
Foe-slaying - when attacking a bane creature, reduce Edge of weapon by value of bearer's Valour

Shadow bane [when in Forward stance, add 1 success die to each attack]
Skirmisher [if carried encumbrance is 12 or less, increase Parry by +3 when in close combat stance]