Chapter 2B - Of Fate, Race, and Fires

[Spectreman17]

Durgar Ironpull:

Durgar definitely intends to get very drunk, but I might remind you that drunking covers pretending to be sober/not hung over in times of need as well as the skill of power drinking.

I also tweaked my beliefs slightly to fit my new developed beliefs and goals from this scene.

After finding myself a barrel of cheap mead as a reward for saving a lower level merchants cart and livelyhood, I settle back down by the fire where the elf had first helped me. The human sitting there is calm, which sits strangely as the dwarves around camp are bullying humans away.

"hey, you there, what's your name? and why is it you can sit so calmly by as this happens around you?" now into my fourth cup, I say, "well, I must thankyou for not being a nuisance. would you care to share my barrel with me? I shouldn't finish the whole thing by myself, not that I can't."

[lupinelegend]

Though Whit is relieved that Marsden has been driven away, he is not happy that the dwarves have chased away the rest of the Dalefolk as well. "You had to run off the women and children as well, did you?" Whit seethes under his breath. "Real big of ye. Start this big row over a couple of swords and make a big enough din to attract the dragon's ire again!" Slinging his spear over his back, he heads to a nearby tree and sits down against its trunk.

Recounting the day's events to himself, Whit realizes that the thing that bothers him most is that no men of Dale stepped forward to take control of the situation. We need someone who can lead us, he muses. Letting his eyes drift over the camp, Whit tries to think of someone he knows, anyone, who could be a halfway-capable leader.

"hey, you there, what's your name? and why is it you can sit so calmly by as this happens around you?" now into my fourth cup, I say, "well, I must thank you for not being a nuisance. would you care to share my barrel with me? I shouldn't finish the whole thing by myself, not that I can't."

Stirred from his thoughts, Whit makes his way over to the dwarf. "Calmly? Did you not see me aid you in chasing off that bastard Marsden? I'm Whit." He thanks the dwarf as he takes a cup. "This is a night for ale if there ever was one." Pausing as if to consider his wording, Whit says, "You didn't have to chase away the women and children you know."

[Spectreman17]

Durgar Ironpull:

"Yeah... not my intention to begin with, I only wanted to push Marsden and his band of thugs out, but my words were poorly chosen, and like cheap metal, they were heated and twisted and now it's beyond my control you seem kindly enough though, seeing as you were willing to stand up to his bull-headedness, so perhaps my kinfolk will see that not all men are bad, but just a few. Knowing their stubbornness though, the odds are not good. The seed has been planted and we shall reap what we sow, me thinks." I finish a long draught from my cup, thinking of the poor souls who have been ousted to fend off the dragon alone by my actions, "Why they listen to a mere child like me, I'll never know, and it'll be their downfall I say, Let someone with more experience lead this troupe, I'm barely beyond 40 years old. there are dwarves here ten times my age, but they had to listen to me..."

I keep the drink flowing as I dwell on my actions and the wrong I may have just committed, but not brave enough to face it and stop the beast I created.

[Fulci]

Favrick, the Half-a-dwarf

Though the flames are dimming, the chaos that arose during the Serpent's attack still burns with a deathly glow. Favrick spent the last years almost in isolation, he understands now, in the secluded chambers of the Penitents of Tumunzahar. His visions were crystal clear, but abstract. Here, in the midst of danger and discord, everything is muddied, the lines of fate intertwine. Favrick understands, that sometimes the fate of a single person is harder to follow, than that of a Kingdom or Race.

He is cut away from the dwarflings by the arrival of more carts and refugees, and he is "trapped" on the other side of the make-shift camp, where events enfold with an almost brutal swiftness. Dwarves and Men going at each other, fueled by greed and anger. All victims of Smaug, the Hand of Fate and Doom... Luckily, the matter was settled as quickly as it appeared, but the air is still tense.

Favrick looks around. A group of Lake-dwellers, grasping their only belongings, looking for a dry patch to sleep at. Two dwarves, who took part in the conflict, head off somewhere. Some small groups are gathered around fires ------

*snap!*

With a loud sound, a branch snaps in one of the campfires. The flames brighten strongly: the faces of those gathered around are illuminated for just a heartbeat's time. An unlikely group: a young dwarf, an elf and a human. Three of three, echoes in Favrick's head, three of three is three of one.

On a whim, he heads over to them... Will they allow a fourth?

"I am sorry, but can I join you to dry my boots at your fire?"

[Marullus]

Topic split. Favrick, Durgar, Ilreth, and Whit please continue here. Whit and Ilreth need reasons to unify with the dwarves. Favrick can potentially provide some rune-enhanced Fate pronouncements. Let me know if conversations lead to any desired and consequential rolls. We'll reunify with Chapter 3 - the Lakeside Council.

[Spectreman17]

Durgar Ironpull

Welcome, there's no food left, but the drink is good and company is better. From where have you been driven? Erebor or are you just passing through?

[Fulci]

Favrick, the Half-a-dwarf

While closing in, Favrick catches the last words of Durgar's monologue:

"Why they listen to a mere child like me, I'll never know, and it'll be their downfall I say, Let someone with more experience lead this troupe, I'm barely beyond 40 years old. there are dwarves here ten times my age, but they had to listen to me..."

"People sometimes need a voice coming from the outside just to do what's already in their heads."

He accepts a cupful of mead, than apologizes for not being able to bring anything to the table. Judging from the state of his clothes and shoes, his new-found companions might not be surprised by this. Tomorrow, there will be a chance to small-game hunt, unless the hares don't bury themselves deeper than ever. "These forests used to have the biggest and tastiest grouses..." he mumbles to himself, but audible to the others. "But greed thinned them out."

"I was driven by Fate and met by a dragon," he says, switching to a normal voice and taking place by the fire. "Favrick is my name."

[Spectreman17]

Durgar Ironpull

Welcome to our fire Favrick, make yourself comfortable, and don't worry about having nothing to contribute, we don't either, besides my barrel of grog, but that was free-er than a mule's kick. A reward for driving off the vermin, or something like that... I ramble off as I seem to slip into unhappiness at that thought. you know, I didn't want them all gone, just that thieving pack of rats, and now all the men of dale, some of which were my friends, are off on their own to fend off that foul beast. but better that than see those men run off with our fine dwarven goods.

Well, enough of my rambling, what do you mean, driven by Fate? If you flee Erebor, it weren't fate that done this, it were that beast Smaug, may he burn eternal in the bowels of his fiery hell for what he's done.

[Fulci]

Favrick, the Half-a-dwarf

"You know nothing about Fate!" Favrick snaps at Durgar, then pulls himself together. "For us all, Smaug and Fate are one and the same," he explains, his voice still tinted with anger. "The beast was meant to emerge. We, dwarves, elves, and even the son of men*, yes," he glances at their fireside companions, "are in the grasp of Fate. Not the Serpent, though. Smaug is the executor of our Fate & Fates."

He takes a sip from his cup. The stuff is strong, and he can see it already taking an effect of Durgar. But the young Banner Bearer still notices that Favrick talks a lot, but avoids telling where exactly he's from.

"It was my Fate to arrive on this day, the day of fire. Little did I know that the fire would not be the flames ablaze in the smithy's and kitchens of Erebor! The signs were confusing..."

"Those men... you say they are off to fight the beast? Impossible! How do they want to accomplish this?!"




_________________
* I hope later on this can tie into a discussion about the Gift of Men and free will! I'm not a hardcore specialist in Tolkien philosophy, so everything Favrick says is his own convolution of various theories on Fate... He is a heretic prophet for sure!

[Spectreman17]

Durgar Ironpull

Well, someone's a bit touchy tonight... Durgar says to no one in particular, Tell you what, Ain't no one made me do nothing today, except myself. No Fates decided I was gonna run off the men to be eaten by that foul beast. You're telling me that all this was predetermined by someone?

Durgar is visibly frustrated by the thought of not being in control of his own life, They are not off to fight the beast, they are off to die on their own to that beast. Because I sent them too it. there is safety in numbers, and I have stolen that safety from them.

If fate is as you say it is, then I should feel no guilt of this, because the men were meant to die this day, and you tell me I had no hand in it. So drink and be Merry, I say, let us celebrate into the night, for no wrong has occurred this day, He says with a heavy amount of sarcasm.

Durgar is clearly upset about what he has done to the men, though his reason for not doing more to help is unknown, but he seems even more upset over the words Favrick is saying.

[lupinelegend]

Whitfield, Human Ranger

Whit sits at the fire, his cup now empty, with his mouth agape as he tries to comprehend Favrick's philosophical ramblings. Stammering, he begins, "If Smaug is but a tool of Fate, what made him so? Is Fate something that just is or is Fate the will of some higher power?"

Whit seems to realize that he has been thinking aloud and quickly quiets down. He tosses what remains of his rabbit to Gryph and shrugs. "In any case, I agree with Durgar. I'm where I am because of the decisions I've made. What's the point otherwise?"

[Fulci]

Favrick, the Half-a-dwarf

"The hall of the Mountain King has a hundred and twenty pillars, all cut from the living rock. Every tenth is gilded and encrusted with the finest gems and crystals. The predestined events of Fate are as unavoidable and magnificent as these twelve mighty columns."

Favrick hopes the human will understand the magnificence of his simile too.

"But the way between these pillars is not set in stone... But no matter which path you walk, you cannot avoid arriving to you destiny. Some people head straight to the golden reliefs of the central pillars... and move further, to the throne. Some never even reach the first."

"Your feelings," he turns to Durgar, "have no saying in this matter, of course. But you, as a living and breathing being, can and should feel guilt and grief. And remember: you cannot fight AGAINST Fate. But you can fight ALONGSIDE it."

[lupinelegend]

Favrick, the Half-a-dwarf
"The hall of the Mountain King has a hundred and twenty pillars, all cut from the living rock. Every tenth is gilded and encrusted with the finest gems and crystals. The predestined events of Fate are as unavoidable and magnificent as these twelve mighty columns."

"Hmmm..." Whit's eyes narrow as he looks up, pondering the dwarf's words while he watches the light from the last fires of Dale dance in the clouds. He doesn't necessarily agree with Favrick's fervent belief in Fate, but he appreciates the elegance of the metaphor used to describe it. No one in the militia spoke of the theoretical or the arcane; intelligence and even conviction were rare among the enlisted men. If they weren't talking about women, or food, or fighting, they weren't talking at all. The realization takes Whit by surprise - he likes this dwarf.

Completely changing the topic, Whit blurts out, "Who leads your people?" He looks from Favrick to Durgar and back expectantly but he does not wait for an answer. "The government of Dale lies in ashes now and something, someone, needs to take its place." Whit looks down and picks the dirt from his boots absently. "I've never served a good leader in my life," he remarks looking up again, "I don't know what one looks like. I'm told the leaders of Dale knew what they were doing but I'm not highborn and sure enough not a government type." Whit's nervousness has been replaced by an eagerness - a fool's optimism. "Tell me about one of your great leaders. Perhaps it will help me find someone for my people to follow."

[lupinelegend]

Is anybody still around?

[Fulci]

Is anybody still around?

I'm waiting for Durgar's reaction.
But to keep things going, I'll answer you tomorrow!

[Spectreman17]

Oh man, it's me slackin' this time. I'll post something today.

[Marullus]

Runecasting...

So, it DOES require a successful roll to pronounce a fate. The Obstacles, as I see them, are:
Niping Ob 5
Glaiz Ob 6
Durgar ob 7
Ilreth Ob 7
Whitfield Ob 8

You have your Runecasting Dice, +1D for your First Age runes, + FoRKs.
You also will have an auspicious situational bonus for this scene, as you are at the crux of Fate and all things are clearer. It will lower the Ob by 3.

I suggest using this juncture to replace the belief you have for Enoch's character, since he is MIA.

[Marullus]

If you'd like any Artha for these scene, we'll need a few more posts to work towards your beliefs.

[Fulci]

Completely changing the topic, Whit blurts out, "Who leads your people?" He looks from Favrick to Durgar and back expectantly but he does not wait for an answer. "The government of Dale lies in ashes now and something, someone, needs to take its place." Whit looks down and picks the dirt from his boots absently. "I've never served a good leader in my life," he remarks looking up again, "I don't know what one looks like. I'm told the leaders of Dale knew what they were doing but I'm not highborn and sure enough not a government type." Whit's nervousness has been replaced by an eagerness - a fool's optimism. "Tell me about one of your great leaders. Perhaps it will help me find someone for my people to follow."

Favrick, the Half-a-dwarf

Favrick finally finds someone who listens to him. A significant change after a long journey spent with only fleas as your companions. And those parasitic creatures care little about fate, lore and wisdom.
"Many wise dwarven historians hold that our race was born at their highest reach of honor and virtue, kinship and bravery. And after that, we only... degraded. Consumed by our own Greed and shortcomings. But I don't see our history as a downward slope. Let us remember the pillars of the Hall of the Mountain King. A pillar can be seen as the birth and life of a great Dwarf, one who leads his people, emerging from the flood and standing high."

Feeling that he's slipping into the abstract void again, Favrick recounts the short tale of the deeds of Azaghâl, King of Belegost, mighty warrior, who wounded the dragon Glaurung. Azaghâl was slain by the beast, but as his kin bore him away from the battlefield, ignoring the rest of their enemies and singing a frightening dirge, they all felt to be under the protection of a higher force - the might of Azaghâl, living on after his physical death.

Favrick adds no commentary to this tale, but the implications are quite obvious: the last King of the Lonely Mountain was, quite probably, not a golden pillar of might for his people...

"It's easy to notice these pillars of light when looking backwards. Your question, young son of Men, is very good: how to recognize a valiant leader NOW? There are many signs, but as most signs, they are hidden, obscured. Hard to comprehend. But our ancestors left us great wisdom. They were able to read the letters on birch bark, the swooping trajectories of the songbirds..."

[Spectreman17]

Durgar Ironpull

Durgar sits in silence for an uncomfortably long time following Whitfield's question. Finally, Favrick fills the silence.

Durgar ponders the question and listens to the age old tale of Azaghâl, still seemingly lost in his own mind.

I don't think anyone leads anyone at this point. I led myself to this cask. The few brave leaders we had would have all been killed leading us against that beast. Only a coward would run from such a fight, and a true leader can't be a coward. Durgar seems saddened by his statement, so he finishes his mug and draws another (At what point would a drunking skill come into play? only when drinking to get drunk, anytime I'm drinking, or only when competing in a drinking game?)

The Captain of the Gate-Watch was my last leader, and shite leader at that. Best he taught me was how to drink and not get caught. That's about all I was good for when the beast reached the gates. The best it did for me was let me not die, but now I'm sitting out here, probably the only guard left alive for leagues... What good will a leader do for us now? We have no home, no army to retake our home, nothing. At this point we flee, run to the corners of the world, and hope to eke out a meager survival. Unless your magic rocks can slay a dragon, runecaster.