Prologue: The Bloody Coin

[Rhukath]

Throughout the exchange Cerdic remains silent in the bush with his arrow fixed upon the elf.

As he listens to the conversation he struggles to see the markings on the elf in order to get some clues as to what the elf could possibly want.

Hearing that the elf is asking for shelter Cerdic relaxes slightly but keeps the arrow nocked just in case.

Stepping out from the bush he says to the Krilnar "Where do you come from Krilnar? and where may you be heading alone out here? Isn't it dangerous to be out in the wilderness alone?"

[tibbius]

Othden slides his sword back into its scabbard, steps forward. "Well met, friend," he says firmly.

[Darithe]

A woman's voice sounds from just beyond where Krilnar appeared, "He is not alone." She slips out from where she had hidden herself, "Good day to you all," she smiles slightly looking you each over with pale blue eyes. She did not voice that she meant them no harm, for she was not yet sure she did not, though she does not voice such concerns in the tone of her voice. Her eyes slide to the prisoner and that smile disappears. Though it is gone for but a moment before it returns, "My name is Iscind."

[Samwell Turleton]

Madoc Underburrow

Madoc reaches into his pocket for the last of his wrapped cakes. His finger brushes the cloth containing the ring and he remembers it is in his pocket. Now that he is thinking about it he feels the weight of it sitting there. He brings the food the rest of the way out of his pocket and unwraps it carefully. It is dry and brittle and breaks into two pieces easily with crumbs blowing across the path. He holds the cloth out with the offering on top.

How do you do?

I'm Madoc...care for some seed cake?

[Rhukath]

Seeing the new female and her reaction to the prisoner, Cerdic slowly maneuvers himself next to Grimvarg.

1 new stranger isn't so bad, but 2 new strangers is an altogether different situation in his eyes.

whispering as low as possible, but just loud enough for Grimvarg to hear he says "I'm not entirely sure about the female over there, something in the eyse makes me a little wary of her!"

[tibbius]

"Well met, in truth," Othden utters in his long-unused native tongue. "What news from the horselands? It gladdens me to see a youth of my people."

[Darithe]

"Seed cake..." she smiles at the hobbit who calls himself Madoc. She is mightily tempted, having a weakness for cakes of all kinds, but it is best not to take food from strangers especially those newly met. "I thank you for your kindness sir, but Krilnar and I have just recently broken our fast," brushing back her hair which the wind has blown about her face like a veil.

Her eyes brighten considerably at the sound of her native tongue, and in rohirric she responds, "As it gladdens my heart to meet a kinsman so far from home. The Riddermark was well when last I saw it, but it has been far too long since I trod the banks of the Snowbourn." She strides forward towards Othden and offers her hand, "Sir, I am afraid I did not hear your name if you offered it."

[cybersavant]

Grimvarg

"Anymore hidin back there?" The Dwarf nods to where the woman appeared from. "Best be careful on yer way to Angmar. The road is crude, even by human standards."

[Demilich]

Krilnar

"Only the two of us, perhaps its not worth the trip, we did not see any other nearby settlements. May I inquire of you folk? Where are you heading to?"

[cybersavant]

Grimvarg



"That is our business. We have no need of an elf."

[Demilich]

Krilnar studies the Dwarf for a moment before replying "While I can appreciate your opinion, Dwarf, I am feeling compelled to express my disagreement with it and would like to advise those you are currently traveling with that as I'm confident some of them are aware of the advantages of having the skills of, not only one but, two skilled Elves who wish to accompany them and lend our particular skills to aid them in a more likely safer journey to where ever they may be traveling to."

[cybersavant]

Grimvarg
"Why the interest in us? Why backtrack the way you came to join us? What is your true interest here? The Dwarf's free hand grips the axe haft, relaxes, and grips again.

[Samwell Turleton]

Madoc Underburrow

Madoc's brow furrows and he sticks one piece of the broken seed cake into his mouth and wraps the other back up to go back into his pocket. He chews and feels some delight despite the wind and the treacherousness of the path.

Well, for my part I have no ill-will towards our newly arrived travelers...even if they have strange attitudes towards hospitality.

[Rhukath]

Cerdic watches the situation with some confusion.

As the tension rises he steps in and says "Perhaps if we have some idea what the elves are doing we might be able to see if they could join us for a little while? Travelling together may suit both parties for a while, however if we have different purposes then we can go our seperate ways"

[_2d6] = (4+5)=9 rolled for persuasion.

[Old Duergar]

The ever-mounting tension between the two groups of travelers is cut short by a powerful, booming wolf howl. Dreadfully melodious, it is immediately answered by a string of similar howls, as the basin all around you is filled by the queer singing, followed by several snapping and crushing sounds as rocks and gravel seem to rain all around you.

Wolf.jpg (82.07 KiB) Viewed 928 times

Bewildered and stunned, you realise soon enough that three, large, saliva-dripping wolves fall upon you with enraged ferocity and seek to maul you.

Wolf Attack! [_3d6] = (6+1+1)=8
Wolf Attack! [_3d6] = (1+2+4)=7
Wolf Attack! [_3d6] = (5+6+6)=17

Behind the Scenes!

1=Cerdic, 2=Iscind, 3=Krilnar, 4=Madoc, 5=Othden, 6=reroll

3 Wolf attacks hit! [_3d6] = (2+4+5)=11

-1 Toughness for Iscind, Madoc and Othden

To your horror, with three well-placed bites, Iscind, Madoc and Othden fall prey to the rage-driven jaws of the fearsome Ettenmoors wolves, bleeding profusely from the deep gashes inflicted on them!

PC status

Party resources: 2

Othden of Rohan: Male north-flung Rider of Rohan. Toughness 5/6, Fate 2/4 (+1 temporary, duration of 2 days), Corruption 0, 1 XP
Cerdic Greenhill: Male Hobbit Rune-Master. Toughness 4/4, Fate 6/6 (+1 temporary, duration of 2 days), Corruption 0, 1 XP
Grimvarg: Male Dwarf Wanderer. Toughness 5/5, Fate 5/5 (+1 temporary, duration of 2 days), Corruption 1, 1 XP
Madoc Underburrow: Male Hobbit Roustabout. Toughness 3/4, Fate 6/6 (+1 temporary, duration of 2 days), Corruption 0, 2 XP
Iscind of the Snowbourn: Female Rohirrim. Toughness 5/6, Fate 4/4, Corruption 0, 0 XP
Krilnar Eiloleh: Male Elven Ranger. Toughness 5/5, Fate 5/5, Corruption 0, 0 XP

------------------------------------------

Brugha: Male Hillman Scout. Toughness 6/6, Fate 4/4, Corruption 0, 0 XP

[tibbius]

Gasping with pain, Othden yanks his knife from his belt and tries to sink it into the eye of the wolf that slobbers and gnaws at his arm.

Fighting hand-to-hand [_3d6] = (2+3+5)=10

[Darithe]

Noting the tension between the dwarf and Krilnar, Iscind was about to turn and remark to Krilnar that we had better reveal our reasons for being there when the wolf attack occurs. She staggers back in shock as one of the wolves bites her, opening a bloody wound, before feebly drawing her sword and trying to strike back.

[1d6] = 4

[cybersavant]

Grimvarg

Looks at the cliffside for something sturdy to attach the prisoner to so he can his companions in their battle.
[_2d6] = (1+2)=3

[Samwell Turleton]

Madoc Underburrow

Aieeeee!

Madoc screams as the wolf’s fangs bite into him. He closes his eyes firmly and waits for it all to be over. No more spring feasts under the old willow. No more refreshing summer beverages cooled in the fresh cool waters of the Brandywine. No more fall apple tarts crisp, sour, and sweet. No more winter dark ales and spiced wines.

Madoc’s hand reaches to his pocket and he fondles the cloth covered ring.

[Old Duergar]

Othden's gritty blow answers the wolf's ferocity in par: indeed, the shaggy-furred canine bars yellowish fangs in pain and its fetid breath washes all over the Rider as it howls in pain, its underbelly bearing a nasty knife wound. The beast is not laid low however, only its ferocity diminished. Its companion nearby is also stayed; instead, they both backtrack slightly and yellowish eyes seem to measure up the Rider.

Iscind's feeble swing falls short, as the assault upon her is visibly too much to muster a proper counter-offensive. With a vicious snarl, the wolf circles around her, testing her defences here and there with the occasional growl and feigned jump. Almost... toying with her?

Madoc's journey to the fathomless pit of memory is cut short; the metal on the crude ring suddenly feels cold, almost bitingly, excruciatingly so. A barbed sting, bearing with it a kind of cruel pain, antagonising the wolf-inflicted injury directly. Yet he retains his senses.

Grimvarg thinks he has found a jagged stone horn-like growth sturdy enough to secure the rope keeping Agathôr bound. With a mocking smile, the prisoner rasps hatefully: "Foolish half-man, if you cannot best mere beasts of fang and tooth, how can you muster your feeble prowess and hope to brave the rigours of the Northern Kingdom, Angmar the Mighty? Surrender thine will to me, and I will make sure you and your weakling companions be spared from the bloodletting at hand!"

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