Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Vakar observes the scene by the cart with a sad look on his face. Was there foul play?! He quickly scans the area. Only immensly powerful beings, almost gods themselves, can curse people from afar like that. Somehow, the culprit must be near, he's sure of it!
"Please, out of my way!"
He shoves some people around while running towards the nearest building to check if someone is hiding near.
Mystery roll: [1d20]=18, [1d20]=13
If nothing is found, he slows down. Suddenly, his pulse starts rushing. What if the rot is contagious? He turns back to the scene by the cart, seing the Seiꝺr putting her hands on the boy. Is someone touching the raven? An evil omen, for sure.
"Please, out of my way!"
He shoves some people around while running towards the nearest building to check if someone is hiding near.
Mystery roll: [1d20]=18, [1d20]=13
If nothing is found, he slows down. Suddenly, his pulse starts rushing. What if the rot is contagious? He turns back to the scene by the cart, seing the Seiꝺr putting her hands on the boy. Is someone touching the raven? An evil omen, for sure.
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Stigandr
Listens in. Foreboding, gloom and doom. The same story year in year. Always this year worse than the last, this season better than next. Yet we survive and in some communities thrive.
He muses on the comments of the older men, perhaps they are jealous their youth is gone and the forever winter closes about their grey beards. Mind you he thinks that as a youth who has yet to shave his first beard at all. Proud of the few inches of braided goatee he has grown.
To prove his youth, he strips off and dusting his hands, climbs the posts to Rope-walk, balancing with arms outstretched then quick stepping a leap into the opposing rope as his opponent does likewise.
Stigandr: contested acrobatics on tightrope (Dex 16): [1d20]=20 [1d20]=16 mystery [1d20]=9
Listens in. Foreboding, gloom and doom. The same story year in year. Always this year worse than the last, this season better than next. Yet we survive and in some communities thrive.
He muses on the comments of the older men, perhaps they are jealous their youth is gone and the forever winter closes about their grey beards. Mind you he thinks that as a youth who has yet to shave his first beard at all. Proud of the few inches of braided goatee he has grown.
To prove his youth, he strips off and dusting his hands, climbs the posts to Rope-walk, balancing with arms outstretched then quick stepping a leap into the opposing rope as his opponent does likewise.
Stigandr: contested acrobatics on tightrope (Dex 16): [1d20]=20 [1d20]=16 mystery [1d20]=9
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Skirfir
On hearing the commotion Skirfir rushes to the cart. Seeing the healer at work, she watches. "If you need any help I can help some, I am a Gothi and know some healing."
She studies the cart and the raven.
Mystery rolls [_2d20]=(17+15)=32
On hearing the commotion Skirfir rushes to the cart. Seeing the healer at work, she watches. "If you need any help I can help some, I am a Gothi and know some healing."
She studies the cart and the raven.
Mystery rolls [_2d20]=(17+15)=32
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Ralfwin Edwinsen
Adds his sleight frame and weight to the men putting their backs into lifting the cart off the unfortunate boy.
There is no panicked horse tacked to the heavy wagon. He presumes the brake and stock to stop it rolling down an incline were not applied or are just worn from age and use. Of interest the spasming bird, broken in wing and body yet still holding to some vestige of life.
He tramples it underfoot, muttering some ward and gesturing a rune shape in the air as if creating some aura of blessing.
"Blessing indeed to have a Seidr at hand."
After squishing the bird he gives the carcass, or what is left of it to Valdis.
sorry, my instinct was to squish it while you attend the boy.
He goes back to the tavern. Ralfwin is dressed in simple linens with an ill fitting hauberk of chain underneath an outer garment of plain brown cloak/shawl/robe, the hems of which are embroidered with geometric designs and Odin runes. His side shaven head and applied face paint are more representative of a scholarly vocation than trying to look fierce. Indeed his below average stature probably doesn't intimidate the village cat let alone creatures of the dark, though that should not detract from his steely eyed determination and desire to preach of steadfastness and devotion to Odin.
An orator rather than rabble rouser.
Ralfwin: random skill check [1d20]=2
Adds his sleight frame and weight to the men putting their backs into lifting the cart off the unfortunate boy.
There is no panicked horse tacked to the heavy wagon. He presumes the brake and stock to stop it rolling down an incline were not applied or are just worn from age and use. Of interest the spasming bird, broken in wing and body yet still holding to some vestige of life.
He tramples it underfoot, muttering some ward and gesturing a rune shape in the air as if creating some aura of blessing.
"Blessing indeed to have a Seidr at hand."
After squishing the bird he gives the carcass, or what is left of it to Valdis.
sorry, my instinct was to squish it while you attend the boy.
He goes back to the tavern. Ralfwin is dressed in simple linens with an ill fitting hauberk of chain underneath an outer garment of plain brown cloak/shawl/robe, the hems of which are embroidered with geometric designs and Odin runes. His side shaven head and applied face paint are more representative of a scholarly vocation than trying to look fierce. Indeed his below average stature probably doesn't intimidate the village cat let alone creatures of the dark, though that should not detract from his steely eyed determination and desire to preach of steadfastness and devotion to Odin.
An orator rather than rabble rouser.
Ralfwin: random skill check [1d20]=2
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Valdís stares at the mangled bird in her hand for a long moment before she suddenly shrieks and releases it. It falls to the ground with a wet thud, and the young seiꝺr takes a quick step back. She looks up at Ralfwin in horror.
"Why would you do such a thing?" she asks, horror in her voice. "Your gods won't protect you from this. This was an omen of the worst sort. You are unclean, now. We both are, Mithal."
"Why would you do such a thing?" she asks, horror in her voice. "Your gods won't protect you from this. This was an omen of the worst sort. You are unclean, now. We both are, Mithal."
Suen-Magir, Outcast Daemonspawn - A Small Time Job (Burning Wheel Gold Revised)
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Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Doshea Ulfgar
Doshea, being close enough to hear Valdis and Ralfwin offers "It's just a bit of blood, no need to fret. I have some water, so that you can clean your hands. Or there should be some buckets about."
Doshea, being close enough to hear Valdis and Ralfwin offers "It's just a bit of blood, no need to fret. I have some water, so that you can clean your hands. Or there should be some buckets about."
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Stigandr
Away from the cart, he struts his stuff another round if he can upon the tightrope, besting a trio of opponents possibly before it seems miss-stepping to hit the dirt.
Stigandr: contested acrobatics on tightrope (Dex 16): [1d20]=19 [1d20]=5 mystery [1d20]=12
Away from the cart, he struts his stuff another round if he can upon the tightrope, besting a trio of opponents possibly before it seems miss-stepping to hit the dirt.
Stigandr: contested acrobatics on tightrope (Dex 16): [1d20]=19 [1d20]=5 mystery [1d20]=12
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Ralfwin Edwinsen
"Trampling the unclean and unholy underfoot seems to be a generational vocation."
A strange thing. The raven dead yet undying. Has anyone heard of such, a raven-Draugr? The mercy of Freya extends too much, such unholiness would not thrive under Odin's realm."
He ignores any rebuke from Valdis, using instead the opportunity to lay claim that however much such creatures are omens and gloomy fore-telling, there is peace in following Odin and an inferred aside that the nearby Mercy of Freya forests allow such beasts to prosper but Odin would have no such 'mercy' on whatever unhallowed exists there.
"Trampling the unclean and unholy underfoot seems to be a generational vocation."
A strange thing. The raven dead yet undying. Has anyone heard of such, a raven-Draugr? The mercy of Freya extends too much, such unholiness would not thrive under Odin's realm."
He ignores any rebuke from Valdis, using instead the opportunity to lay claim that however much such creatures are omens and gloomy fore-telling, there is peace in following Odin and an inferred aside that the nearby Mercy of Freya forests allow such beasts to prosper but Odin would have no such 'mercy' on whatever unhallowed exists there.
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Music and Ambiance: Avenge the Fallen
Lots going on there: reframing here...
Vakar looks around with his brow furrowed with suspicion and concern. "Please, out of my way!" He shoves some people around while running towards the longhouse on the far side of the square to check if someone is hiding near. The door is closed, the greybearded dvergr and headman having gone inside a few minutes before.
Ralfwin and Doshea lend their shoulders along with the other townsfolk and help shift the wagon off the boy's legs. The gothi correctly observes that there is no horse attached to the wagon, no clear reason it should have rolled.
Valdis kneels next to the crushed legs of the young man under the cart. She lays the patterned fibers over his wounds and cries out to her ancestors as they begin to glow with a pale green light, and his wounds begin to close. The loud keening of the kunning draws suspicious and alarmed glances from the townsfolk, who skirt away. Skirfir watches, the slower dvergr a step behind the kunning woman. "If you need any help I can help some, I am a Gothi and know some healing." Doshea watches as Valdis' magic goes to work, healing the man's legs, and pats her on his shoulder, "Good thing a skilled healer is attending the festivities, friend." She looks at the old woman who had approached and asks, "Is there somewhere we should take him?"
"Blessing indeed to have a Seidr at hand," says Ralfwin. While the others aid the boy, Ralfwin steps to the diseased bird and stomps its rotting, ichorous body with the heel of his boot. He then picks it up and hands it to Valdis as she finishes with the boy. Vakar winces in revulsion as he witnesses Valdis handling the diseased raven.
Valdís stares at the mangled bird in her hand for a long moment before she suddenly shrieks and releases it. It falls to the ground with a wet thud, and the young seiꝺr takes a quick step back. She looks up at Ralfwin in horror. "Why would you do such a thing?" she asks, horror in her voice. "Your gods won't protect you from this. This was an omen of the worst sort. You are unclean, now. We both are, Mithal."
Doshea, being close enough to hear Valdis and Ralfwin offers "It's just a bit of blood, no need to fret. I have some water, so that you can clean your hands. Or there should be some buckets about."
"Trampling the unclean and unholy underfoot seems to be a generational vocation," replies Ralfwin. "A strange thing. The raven dead yet undying. Has anyone heard of such, a raven-Draugr? The mercy of Freya extends too much, such unholiness would not thrive under Odin's realm."
A bearded young man armed for the Hunt also came to the wagon, and replies. "Feral ravens," he says. The blonde-braided woman who was the subject of betting earlier fingers the hilt of her saex absently, adding, "Swarms of them, sightings have gotten more common recently... they didn't use to venture this close to Freya's Mercy." The other young woman from the combat nods in agreement. "These events have become more and more frequent. It is said that black snow fell on the peaks of Shadowlow."
Glancing around, the rest of you also notice that the townsfolk seem innured and do not seem to share your concern. With the wagon's wheels chocked securely and the boy being helped off his newly-mended legs by family members, they've shifted from the concern for omens or foul play back to the festival quicker than you would have thought. Stigandr among them - non-plussed by the worried words and talk of omens, he wins the final round of the tightrope walking contest and is awarded a small wrought-gold figurine (3gp).
People drift back to the tavern and tables, resuming the feasting and enjoying their drink. More people take notice, however, of your small group now clustered together. The aspirants for the Hunt are more distinct as a whole as the townsfolk now begin to pull away and give them, and you, a little more space. The young man and two blonde saex-fighters who spoke earleir are in a cluster with two strong-looking men. Birger's voice carries too loudly as he chides another group of six local teens, a third group preparing for the Hunt. The sun drops to the treeline, twilight coming any moment and then, within an hour, night. The crushed body of the diseased raven lies in the middle of the road, the townsfolk would seem to be ignoring it except that they subtly veer to give it a wide berth as they disregard it.
A steady drum beat begins, soft and low at first, coming from warband members holding skin-drums in a circle at the edge of the bonfire outside. The mood begins to change, both worry and excitement amongs the watching townfolks.
A young woman with a long braid of red hair and a poorly-healed scar that mars the left side of her upper lip approaches, nods politely, then speaks softly to you. Her robes mark her as a Gothi of Freya to those who would recognize the sigils. “Greetings, warriors. My name is Ygre. As I am told, you are looking for a way to join the Warband of Jonnamot. I’m sure you know, but they need me to remind you that you must maim a vargr (wolf) and return to the village with its body to be recognized as successful in the Hunt. You can kill it in any way you want. However, if you return its pelt intact, I might be able to craft little armor pieces for you. Take it as a gift from your future comrade as I too am in the Warband of Jonnamot. You may go now; I don’t wish to keep you waiting for your fate. May your blades be sharp, and may Freyja be
with you.” She nods to Grey-Eyed Boe, who you see rising near the front door of the Inn, getting ready to speak.
Narrate out your remaining afternoon - after you all get to finish your immersion here, we'll commence the Hunt itself.
Environment | Initiative Order | Effects in Play |
---|---|---|
Time: 4:30pm Date: The First Day of Winter (Nov. 1st) Temperature is 1c to 2c the full day. Clouds are 65-100%, with morning flurries. ('moderate snow' total 1mm) |
None. | Twilight at 4:40pm (dim light) Night at 5:35pm (darkness) |
> Enoch as Valdís | Female | Kuning | Seiꝺr (1) | HD (1d8): 1 | HP: 11 | AC: 15 | Current Speed: 30' | Initiative: +2 | Darkvision: No | Spells - 1st: 1/2 | [Inspiration]
> Unsungknot as Doshea Ulfgar | Female | Mithal | Alle [Paladin] (1) | HD (1d10): 1 | HP: 11 | AC: 17 | Current Speed: 30' | Initiative: +3 | Darkvision: No
> sastaz as Vakar the Disowned | Male | Vestri | Rogue (1) | HD (1d8): 1 | HP: 11 | AC: 13 | Current Speed: 30' | Initiative: +2 | Darkvision: No
> Spearmint as 'Stig' Stigandr | Male | Mithal | Barbarian (1) | HD (1d12): 1 | HP: 15 | AC: 18 | Current Speed: 30' | Initiative: +3 | Darkvision: No
> Rex as Skirfir Uvaldi | Female | Dvergr (Stoneborn)| Gothi (Smidr) (1) | HD (1d8): 1 | HP: 10 | AC: 18 | Current Speed: 25' | Initiative: +1 | Darkvision: Yes
> Stirling as Ralfwin Edwinsen | Male | Mithal | Gothi | HD (1d8): 1 | HP: 11 | AC: 16 | Current Speed: ??? | Initiative: +2 | Darkvision: No | [Inspiration]
Last edited by Marullus on Fri Oct 14, 2022 2:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Ralfwin
Listens intently and looks around at the gathering, assessing who might be the best hunter and who might be the best comrade. It would be hard for him to find, track and kill a wolf alone. Perhaps Odin will favour him? Does a youngling pup count, a starving lupine exiled from her pack or it has to be done raging warg.
That boasting barbarian, parading on the ropes with his muscles and axe. Maybe he is dimwitted enough to let me shield bear and we can hunt together.
"Stigandr, we meet again. I hope the hunt fares well for you. Consider me able to walk in your shadow so we can hunt together? I might lack such martial prowess as yourself but I trust my skills could yet prove worthy to you and the Warband."
Listens intently and looks around at the gathering, assessing who might be the best hunter and who might be the best comrade. It would be hard for him to find, track and kill a wolf alone. Perhaps Odin will favour him? Does a youngling pup count, a starving lupine exiled from her pack or it has to be done raging warg.
That boasting barbarian, parading on the ropes with his muscles and axe. Maybe he is dimwitted enough to let me shield bear and we can hunt together.
"Stigandr, we meet again. I hope the hunt fares well for you. Consider me able to walk in your shadow so we can hunt together? I might lack such martial prowess as yourself but I trust my skills could yet prove worthy to you and the Warband."
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Skirfir
To Valdis, "Nice work. I am Skirfir, a true smith. Are you going on the hunt, I think I have just decided I will be going."
To Valdis, "Nice work. I am Skirfir, a true smith. Are you going on the hunt, I think I have just decided I will be going."
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Stigandr Yngvarsen
Accepts the little trinket for his triumph, the first of many he hopes. I did read the 'you need to kill a wolf' as a singular not plural.
To shed more light in that he calls out. "Just one forest dog? The sewn pelt may be barely enough to warm my manhood. A string of tails to collar my cloak. I say I will gather a dozen pelts or slay the mightiest Vargr. Show me Hati or show me Skoll. We of the sons of Odin shall bring skins enough to lay at Hallkatla's hearth so that her newborn is born bloodied upon them."
He gives Ralfwin a brotherly bear-hug around the shoulders.
Stigandr nominally follows Thor who is a son of Odin and uses that 'sons of' phrase to include the Gothi of Odin, Ralfwin; calling out the two wolf sons of Fenrir who is destined to kill Odin. He also sets a timescale, hoping that we can achieve this before the imminent birth of Grey-Eyed Boe's son. (It will be a son, of course?)
"Any other sons or even mother's daughter who want to hunt the hunters? Come with me when the moon rises".
Accepts the little trinket for his triumph, the first of many he hopes. I did read the 'you need to kill a wolf' as a singular not plural.
To shed more light in that he calls out. "Just one forest dog? The sewn pelt may be barely enough to warm my manhood. A string of tails to collar my cloak. I say I will gather a dozen pelts or slay the mightiest Vargr. Show me Hati or show me Skoll. We of the sons of Odin shall bring skins enough to lay at Hallkatla's hearth so that her newborn is born bloodied upon them."
He gives Ralfwin a brotherly bear-hug around the shoulders.
Stigandr nominally follows Thor who is a son of Odin and uses that 'sons of' phrase to include the Gothi of Odin, Ralfwin; calling out the two wolf sons of Fenrir who is destined to kill Odin. He also sets a timescale, hoping that we can achieve this before the imminent birth of Grey-Eyed Boe's son. (It will be a son, of course?)
"Any other sons or even mother's daughter who want to hunt the hunters? Come with me when the moon rises".
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Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Doshea Ulfgar
Doshea glances between the young man and two saex-fighters, the raven on the ground, and Valdis, realization of what Valdis had meant finally dawning on her. "Ooohhhhh, not unclean from blood, unclean from a curse." She chuckles softly to herself.
She looks between Valdis and Skirfir, "Apologies if I had offended you before," she says to Valdis, "I did not know what you meant when you said unclean, I misunderstand others quite often. My father always said if I practiced using the muscle between my ears half as much as my others it would do me some good. Will you both be going on the hunt then? I also plan to go, perhaps we could travel together?"
She grins over at Stig when he is awarded his prize and chuckles good naturedly at his proclamation, she would have those tails before he would, if she could help it. "Perhaps we could join him, he seems to enjoy a hunt and a good row."
"You take Hati, friend" she calls over to Stig with a grin, "I'll handle Skoll!"
Doshea glances between the young man and two saex-fighters, the raven on the ground, and Valdis, realization of what Valdis had meant finally dawning on her. "Ooohhhhh, not unclean from blood, unclean from a curse." She chuckles softly to herself.
She looks between Valdis and Skirfir, "Apologies if I had offended you before," she says to Valdis, "I did not know what you meant when you said unclean, I misunderstand others quite often. My father always said if I practiced using the muscle between my ears half as much as my others it would do me some good. Will you both be going on the hunt then? I also plan to go, perhaps we could travel together?"
She grins over at Stig when he is awarded his prize and chuckles good naturedly at his proclamation, she would have those tails before he would, if she could help it. "Perhaps we could join him, he seems to enjoy a hunt and a good row."
"You take Hati, friend" she calls over to Stig with a grin, "I'll handle Skoll!"
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Vakar appears, seemingly out of nowhere, and addresses the group.
"Greetings all, blessings upon you. So, Skirfir, you decided to join after all" he says smiling.
"What do you make of the raven? It worries me that the rot have reached so far. It's getting worse by the day, it seems." He glances beyond the edge of the village. "I wonder what it has in store for us. I have a feeling that hunting wolves will be the last of our worries a week, a month from now."
"Greetings all, blessings upon you. So, Skirfir, you decided to join after all" he says smiling.
"What do you make of the raven? It worries me that the rot have reached so far. It's getting worse by the day, it seems." He glances beyond the edge of the village. "I wonder what it has in store for us. I have a feeling that hunting wolves will be the last of our worries a week, a month from now."
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Skirfir
"I have decided. It is time now I feel, destiny is near."
Ideal: You have a great destiny ahead of you, better go out there and find it.
"I have decided. It is time now I feel, destiny is near."
Ideal: You have a great destiny ahead of you, better go out there and find it.
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Valdís turns to Skirfir and offers her a shy smile. "I am Valdís, and a Seiꝺr, I suppose, though the spirits of my ancestors have only appeared to me once. I'll go; my tribe said there was a ceremony here I must participate in. The spirit-callers said I had an important role to play, and I suppose this wolf hunt is it..."
She trails off as she listens to Stigandr's bravado, her eyes going wide and her cheeks flushing as the tall Mithal speaks of his manhood. Her eyes are torn from his body as Doshea addresses her.
"Oh...ah- I was not offended. But the heart of a seiꝺr's magic is seeing the weave of fate, and altering it if you can. Being unclean can obscure the pattern, and the consequences can be tragic. I can see it ill enough as it is. I will have to perform a ceremony later if I'm to be of any use to anyone." She offers Doshea a grim smile. "And there are others far more powerful than me who might track me through this, though I see no reason they should want to."Unsungknot wrote: ↑Fri Oct 14, 2022 9:11 pm Doshea Ulfgar
Doshea glances between the young man and two saex-fighters, the raven on the ground, and Valdis, realization of what Valdis had meant finally dawning on her. "Ooohhhhh, not unclean from blood, unclean from a curse." She chuckles softly to herself.
She looks between Valdis and Skirfir, "Apologies if I had offended you before," she says to Valdis, "I did not know what you meant when you said unclean, I misunderstand others quite often. My father always said if I practiced using the muscle between my ears half as much as my others it would do me some good. Will you both be going on the hunt then? I also plan to go, perhaps we could travel together?"
She grins over at Stig when he is awarded his prize and chuckles good naturedly at his proclamation, she would have those tails before he would, if she could help it. "Perhaps we could join him, he seems to enjoy a hunt and a good row."
"You take Hati, friend" she calls over to Stig with a grin, "I'll handle Skoll!"
She glances back at Stigandr. "If even half his boasting is true, he would be a useful ally in this hunt. No doubt he's taken down wolves before."
Suen-Magir, Outcast Daemonspawn - A Small Time Job (Burning Wheel Gold Revised)
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Music and Ambiance: Blood on Wolf's Teeth
The group hears Ygre tell them to return with the body of one wolf, some of them feeling underwhelmed. The wiser members - Ralfwin, Valdis, and Skirfir - observe the other groups, like the half-dozen local teens being sent out by their own proud parents, and realize the coming-of-age ritual to go out at night in winter and hunt a single wolf is meant to transition them to self-sufficient adults but not to be a real challenge to their lives. Stigandr and Doshea, the most muscular among you, boast of using it as a feat of prowess, to bring down legendary vargr and return with glory. Vakar raises the question again of omens... that things are different, and may be yet more different in as little as a month ahead. Valdis and Skirfir see the threads of destiny pulling them through this moment, the outsiders now joining together with you.
The drums abruptly stop as Grey Eyed Boe stands at his table and raises his mighty drinking horn.
"MY SVILLANDERS! Allfather knows, it is a great honor to host you and to be with you all, drinks at hand, eager to defend your people. The Gods know how I wish I could join you in your hunt. I would be more than happy to let out my final breath, fighting by your side. BUT TODAY IS YOUR DAY. I have no doubt that all of you will be victorious, and catch your game with honor and ease. May Odin watch over you. May Freyja be with you in your time of need. May the thunderous rage of Thor fill your heart. All of you know what you are assigned to do. GO, MY MIGHTY WARRIORS! GO AND BE GLORIOUS! VICTORY OR VALHALLA. SKOLL!"
The drums begin with a steadier, faster, and louder rhythm and excitement permeates the end of the festival. The half-dozen village youth are first out of the firelight of the bonfire, jogging southward with anticipation, hoping to be the first to return with a wolf from the great woodland of Freya's Mercy. The town cheers as they go. The second group, with the two saex-fighting women and the bearded young man you spoke with earlier, is rounded out by two more young men, one also armored in wolf-hides and bearing axe and spears, the other lightly armed but with a tunic limned with Odin's runes. They set out grimly, a bit more cautious.
Your group assembles, a collection of oddities amongst the people of Trinity - you see some of the men in the inn behind you lightheartedly making bets regarding the three groups. Whispers and suppositions have run rampant amongst the townsfolk throughout the final hour of the feast since you came to attention during the wagon incident. Stigandr, his body hardened by the forge and hearty life on the slopes of Shadowlow, is everything they expect of a prospective warrior, battleaxe and shield in hand and boasts on his lips. To have a Yngvarsen son, already the subject of folktales as they face the draugr risen in the bogs north of Shadowlow to bring iron to the towns, come to serve Trinity elicits whispers of admiration from many of the young women, Hallkatla among them. Doshea matches him, strong and armed with axe and shield, draped in wolfhides for protection. There is anticipation that she goes forth in this hunt, whispers of excitement about her destiny among them - the touch of Thor upon her is apparent and many of the mothers point her out to their own daughters as she girds herself solemnly. Some see relief in Ralfwin, raised among the Bear King's temples, who the elders say brings a traditional view of sacrifice for Odin's blessing with the warriors for their success. Despite his smaller stature, the Gothi wears a chain hauberk and carries his mace and shield, fitting the expectation of Odin's valor and the old men's memories of greatness during the Bear King's rule. The three outsiders elicit curiosity. Vakar is well-known amongst the people of Jonnamot, a thrall of the neighboring town now set free. The serving wenches of the tavern and the horse-grooms loitering near the Headman's lodge watch with a keen eye as one of their own rises in society. But Vakar's looks are of the once-enemy coastal people and with his new freedom he markedly carries the distinctive longbow of his own people. Valdis and Skirfir, both of them mysterious and mystical, officially joining this ritual to commit themselves to fight the darkness that the Trinity faces in the long nights of each winter, elicit whispers of both worry and respect. Valdis' name precedes her - the young Kunning Seidr is a rarity in Mithal lands, but she has already aided other nearby towns who have put stock in the prophetic words she says come from her ancestors. They whisper that she's the very same child in the folktale of the Avalanche, a popular tale among local skalds about a child who the snows themselves refused to bury. The bone-carved saex she wears on her belt and her choice to carry no other armament only adds to her mystique. Skirfir is not the first dvergr the town has come to know, but her coming is a mystery that their sage Rudolf says is of great portent. The talented smith has spoken little of herself, but the older sage has whispered of the fame of her family which wrought the very hammer of Thor and spear of Odin, and whose handiwork is never worked lightly carrying awe even moreso outside of Svartalfheim. The finely-wrought warhammer that dangles from her belt elicits speculation, then, if it is similar to Mjölnir after all. To have the two women join now, they whisper, must be auspicious -- Not all omens of the gods are to be feared.
I need to know:
- How you produce light as you cross from twilight (dim light) into night (darkness).
- How you arrange yourself (especially given the radius of your light source(s)), which impacts if people have disadvantage on their checks.
- I need a Perception Check to identify footprints in the snow before they are covered.
- I need a Survival Check then to identify and hunt evidence of wolves. If you successfully identified tracks, this is an easier DC to find which are the wolf prints and then follow them. If you fail to find tracks, this is a harder DC. [This test will be repeated with hours between.]
- The increased wind and blowing snow makes it colder than expected. I need a Constitution Save for the first segment of the night. You all are expected to have winter weather clothing on, so you can all roll with advantage. Proficiency in either Con Saves or Survival applies here as a special circumstance to environmental rolls.
Rules for Rolls:
Environment | Initiative Order | Effects in Play |
---|---|---|
Time: 5:30pm Date: The First Day of Winter (Nov. 1st) Temperature is currently -1c; feels much colder with the high winds and snow. Clouds are 100%, with evening wind and snowstorm. |
None. | Twilight at 4:40pm (dim light) Night at 5:35pm (darkness) |
> Enoch as Valdís | Female | Kuning | Seiꝺr (1) | HD (1d8): 1 | HP: 11 | AC: 15 | Current Speed: 30' | Initiative: +2 | Darkvision: No | Spells - 1st: 1/2 | [Inspiration]
> Unsungknot as Doshea Ulfgar | Female | Mithal | Alle [Paladin] (1) | HD (1d10): 1 | HP: 11 | AC: 17 | Current Speed: 30' | Initiative: +3 | Darkvision: No
> sastaz as Vakar the Disowned | Male | Vestri | Rogue (1) | HD (1d8): 1 | HP: 11 | AC: 13 | Current Speed: 30' | Initiative: +2 | Darkvision: No
> Spearmint as 'Stig' Stigandr | Male | Mithal | Barbarian (1) | HD (1d12): 1 | HP: 15 | AC: 18 | Current Speed: 30' | Initiative: +3 | Darkvision: No | [Inspiration]
> Rex as Skirfir Uvaldi | Female | Dvergr (Stoneborn)| Gothi (Smidr) (1) | HD (1d8): 1 | HP: 10 | AC: 18 | Current Speed: 25' | Initiative: +1 | Darkvision: Yes | Spells - 1st: 2/2 |
> Stirling as Ralfwin Edwinsen | Male | Mithal | Gothi | HD (1d8): 1 | HP: 11 | AC: 16 | Current Speed: 20 | Initiative: +2 | Darkvision: No | Spells - (C) 1st: 2/2 (B) 1st: 1/1 |[Inspiration]
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Stigandr
He has helped himself to a few extra ales prior to leaving. No knowing when the next tavern and set of comely wenches will come along. Whilst extra alcohol might have little effect in the village apart from boisterous carousing and eventual erectile dysfunction, out in the wilderness of snow and icy chill wind, it can have a more dramatic effect.
Which probably accounts for his fumbling a Constitution roll though in fairness, he does rock at Survival.
Stigandr: Perception check: [1d20+3]=6+3=9 Survival [1d20+3]=20+3=23 Constitution [1d20+5]=1+5=6
"Lead the way then merry men and women. Our glory lies upon the backs of a mangy critter. One who may indeed claw my back as open as did that Belmunt wench upon her own coming of age ceremony".
He rambles regarding seducing farmer's daughters and rambles trekking in the woods. He anticipated charging ahead but walks in Ralfwin's footsteps, perceiving little initially until an epiphany and clearness of mind. He will carry a firebrand torch.
"No, not those tracks, that's a deer. No leave those wild berries, give you the shits. Hear that? Screech owl, 'twit-twoo, twit-twoo'." he says, pointing random stuff out along the way.
Then, "Wolf!" he says, pointing at whatever tracks, bark scratchings or recent doggy-doo they have left behind that his Survival senses may have detected.
He has helped himself to a few extra ales prior to leaving. No knowing when the next tavern and set of comely wenches will come along. Whilst extra alcohol might have little effect in the village apart from boisterous carousing and eventual erectile dysfunction, out in the wilderness of snow and icy chill wind, it can have a more dramatic effect.
Which probably accounts for his fumbling a Constitution roll though in fairness, he does rock at Survival.
Stigandr: Perception check: [1d20+3]=6+3=9 Survival [1d20+3]=20+3=23 Constitution [1d20+5]=1+5=6
"Lead the way then merry men and women. Our glory lies upon the backs of a mangy critter. One who may indeed claw my back as open as did that Belmunt wench upon her own coming of age ceremony".
He rambles regarding seducing farmer's daughters and rambles trekking in the woods. He anticipated charging ahead but walks in Ralfwin's footsteps, perceiving little initially until an epiphany and clearness of mind. He will carry a firebrand torch.
"No, not those tracks, that's a deer. No leave those wild berries, give you the shits. Hear that? Screech owl, 'twit-twoo, twit-twoo'." he says, pointing random stuff out along the way.
Then, "Wolf!" he says, pointing at whatever tracks, bark scratchings or recent doggy-doo they have left behind that his Survival senses may have detected.
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
As the dim twilight quickly fades beneath the trees, Valdís pulls her cloak tighter around herself, settles her distaff into a leather loop at her belt, and begins to knot the free end of the flax around her fingers. It glows a pale, ethereal green for just a moment before brightening into the glow of a flickering flame playing between her fingertips. She tries to huddle in the middle of the group, and her body language suggests it's as much to avoid the dangers of the forest at night as for warmth.
I'm casting the cantrip produce flame, which sheds bright light in a 10' radius and dim light 10' further. It lasts 10 minutes, and she'll renew it that often unless circumstances change.
Are we interested in using Help to assist Stig, or making individual checks? I suspect we'll do better with individual checks, as he had some bad luck with the dice!
I'm casting the cantrip produce flame, which sheds bright light in a 10' radius and dim light 10' further. It lasts 10 minutes, and she'll renew it that often unless circumstances change.
Are we interested in using Help to assist Stig, or making individual checks? I suspect we'll do better with individual checks, as he had some bad luck with the dice!
Suen-Magir, Outcast Daemonspawn - A Small Time Job (Burning Wheel Gold Revised)
Re: Chapter 1: Into the Wilderness
Skirfir
Skirfir has Dark vision. She will not carry a light but stays close enough to utilize the others light.
It didn't work like I wanted, but it isn't to bad to figure out.
Con save [_2d20+2]=(2+17)=19+2=21
4 or 19 if she has advantage.
Perception [_2d20]=(3+8)=11 +3
6 or 11.
Survival check [_2d20]=(13+13)=26 +5
18 no matter what.
"Not sure about the tracks but I think we should go this way."
Skirfir has Dark vision. She will not carry a light but stays close enough to utilize the others light.
It didn't work like I wanted, but it isn't to bad to figure out.
Con save [_2d20+2]=(2+17)=19+2=21
4 or 19 if she has advantage.
Perception [_2d20]=(3+8)=11 +3
6 or 11.
Survival check [_2d20]=(13+13)=26 +5
18 no matter what.
"Not sure about the tracks but I think we should go this way."