Honorin' Tha Fallen IC

[ArcturusV]

This here is the IC topic for Honorin' Tha Fallen. Please keep posts IC as much as possible. Roll your dice, if needed, with your post or if I ask for it. All in all, pretty simple, general rules, so have at it my players.

Map, for reference again:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v735/BobRoberts/ByDurkonsBeard_zps25d93aea.jpg

Starting location is in Hex 20-11 (Dwarven Town by the Lake).

Now for the part you all actually came here for, the IC.


It was a cold winter's day in the town of Soggy, so named for the lake nearby and the water table so close to the surface. The cold wouldn't have bothered most people, dwarves, hardy folk. They'd put up with anything. Even the pale sunlight was perfectly fine, more chilling than warm, but it wasn't too bright, or glared too much. The cold wind coming off the lake was typical of the morning. As was the flight of birds constantly circling overhead, diving on any bit of trash or table scraps they could find in the dwarven village.

Most of you had been in this village a while, for one reason or another. This was the great frontier of the Dwarven Empire. New lands, new opportunities. It was said a Dwarf could make himself new out here, forge a strong clan if he was stubborn enough and strong enough. And what dwarf worth the name doesn't count themselves as such?

This morning, just after the crack of dawn however, was not exactly the same old, same old in the colonial town of Soggy. No dwarves were marching off towards the lake to do their dredge work. Or to the shallow mines nearby Soggy which provided the necessary coal for the town. Dwarves were hiding in the homes. Several were bracing up their windows and doors as if settling in for a siege. The town guard was in full armor and weapons, out in force as seldom was ever seen, running towards the stone walls which surrounded Soggy. Young dwarves, more fleet of foot, were working as messengers, knocking on houses and spreading the word to all who they could wake up.

"Tha Trees 'ere coming," was the message. One which had children looking concerned, and adults preparing for battle. "Tha trees are coming, get yer gear and get ta yer stations!"

Suffice to say, none of the messengers managed to deliver this line in anything approaching a calm, respectful manner. It was as close to pure hysteria as most dwarves allowed themselves to get.

[Shinovar]

Thibble took a deep breath. He always had to calm himself before a battle. Every time, he thought he had worked through the pre-battle fear, but evvery time, it showed up again. Still, Thibble would not let it master him. Not again.

Thibble hastily donned the rest of his armor. As he did so, he remembered earlier days, when all seemed easy. He had made this armor himself, in preparation for fighting for his clan. A fighter first, but always a craftsman, just like his father before him. Or so he used to believe.

Shaking his head, Thibble focuses on the task at hand. He finishes with his armor, dons his helmet, and grabs his weapon. With one final calming breath, Thibble is out the door.

[Gem_Knight]

"Those Dastardly Trees!" Vancil scowls as he rushes past the messenger. No weapon and no armor, only the backpack at his door with his most important tools.

As he dashed down the streets he slid his goggles on over his eyes. He checked his belt to make sure his spell component pouch was where it was supposed to be in case he needed them. But all that preparation was after the fact, and he would have marched forward anyway.

[Ajadea]

The silence is more telling than any warning. He has little preparation to do, and more than enough time to do it. The entirety of his possessions fit into a backpack, and when he is finished packing them away, almost no trace of his presence remains. So it is that Haul is already standing at attention when the first echoes of a frantic warning bounce down through the air. And he is gone before the messenger reaches him.

He joins the throng of armored dwarves, looking out of place and under-prepared. Haul knows they look at him in confusion and incredulity. But he does not mind any longer. He has never been much for hiding behind steel.

[Asmodean]

When the call of alarm was raised Borts Stormaxe was already in armour. He had just finished his turn at the walls, guarding from encroaching enemies: orcs, goblinoids, treants and other dangers like them and was looking forward to a flagon or four and hot meat at the Stonefire Tavern. It had been uneventful night and he wasn't too tired but still the call to arms weighed down on the young Axe, he had really been looking forward to getting of duty.
Not that he hesitates even a heartbeat before clattering back to his post. This was serious, after all, and maybe he'd have his chance to prove himself. But still... just half an hour of rest...

As he joins the line of dwarven defenders, his comrades, clapping newfound friends on the shoulder or back of the head and throwing good natured insults about, Borts is filled with new determination and he takes his place in a wall of dwarves and steel, stronger than the stones they stand on.
He might be a newcomer here who had volounteered to do his part in the local militia, but he was still one of them.

[nyyarg]

Thrakk's eye snapped open, the troubling dreams of a moment ago instantly forgotten. He had gotten into Soggy late last night after a long journey, and he had not slept well, but he was up in a moment once he understood what was going on.
He stood up and tightly clutched his holy symbol. The worn, silver valknut seemed to give him strength and clarity. "Odin, guide me" he intoned.
He donned his old armor as quickly as he could, the dull copper plated scales catching the morning light shining in the inn window. As soon as he was finished he grabbed the longspear he had purchased just before he left on this journey. Armed and armored, he took a deep breath and headed out into the street.
Trees are coming? he looked around, half expecting to see Yggdrasil itself. Seeing nothing immediately, he began running to the edge of town, following some warriors. As he ran he tried to recall if he had heard of this sort of thing before and what it might mean.


Knowledge (History) [roll0]

[SalmonOfDoubt]

Urist climbed groggily to his feet, awakened by the bustle of the outside world. He placed a hand on the shaggy beast lying next to him, drawing it into the world of the aware as well. He had elected to sleep in the stables the previous night, to be closer to his companion. Besides, the inn had kicked him out after he shattered two mugs and lacked the insight to even apologize for it. No matter, nothing he wasn't used to by now. He rather liked the stables, with their musty odors and the shifting of beasts.

He dusted some straw off of his rough clothing, leading Bar towards the door. Outside, he could see dwarves rushing around and yelling something about approaching trees. It looked as if a battle was on it's way. So he shambled back inside and sat down, removing a weathered book from his pack so that he might begin to prepare his spells for the day.

Preparing:
Level 0: Prestidigitation (x2), Daze, Create Water (School)
Level 1: Mage Armor, Sleep, Charm Animal (School)

[ArcturusV]

Thrakk, you have no clue what they might be talking about.

However, as those who ran out and approach the edge of the village can see, it is a quite literal message. The low stone wall surrounding the town has several dwarves standing on top of it, pointing out towards the distance. And one thing that you can see, even from ground level, that that there are trees towering over the wall. They aren't next to the wall, and you hazard a guess that they must be true ancient behemoths, at least a good 80 feet high, perhaps more.

And perhaps most important, they weren't there yesterday. The area outside the wall had been cleared for a solid mile of every tree. Gravel and clay deposits existed outside the walls, where most of the dwarves in Soggy made a living. Pits that were, probably, right where the trees currently was.

Borts, up on the wall, can see that it is fairly clearly the case. The pits that dwarves had been digging out for years were covered over. Trees were planted on top of them. Trees that weren't there when he ended his shift. A thick covering too, lacking undergrowth, but the trees having grown so closely together that it was hard to spot a good span of 10 feet that wasn't occupied by a tree trunk. The canopy was so tightly formed by these large coniferous trees that it was quite dark underneath despite the morning light, though still light enough to use normal sight, far from true Cave Darkness.

"Ain't right," one of the guards next to Borts muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fog came in off tha lake, and then, trees!" A few dwarves also muttered, and gripped their axes tight. None of them seemed too eager to step off the wall however.

Those approaching the wall can see a particularly elderly dwarven male standing near the gate out of Soggy. "Volunteers! I need some volunteers!" the elderly dwarf was shouting out at any group that passed. A few looked at him, but most ignored him. None stopped to speak with him. He had a look of desperation on his face, frantically pacing back and forth towards various dwarves as they walked past. "Please I need help!"

[Shinovar]

Thibble looked at his axe, thankful that it was an axe and not a sword or a mace. there was little better for fighting trees.

He runs up to the old dwarf and salutes him. "You say you want volunteers? Thibble Moonstriker, at your service."

[Ajadea]

Haul looks up at the towering conifers. The land here was clear, to allow mining operations. Had been cleared. It obviously wasn't clear any longer. There, encircling the walls, was an unknown foe, and hundreds of hearty warriors clamoring to face it. Haul regards the old man, bent low by age. A hundred years ago, he would have been in those ranks, marching into battle against these trees. Now he cried out for help, and the words fell on deaf ears. Not one person came to his aid, or spared more than a pitying glance.

He cuts through the crowd swiftly, barely causing a disturbance in the never-ending tide of dwarves. When he is out of the crowd and can see once more, Haul notes he has been preempted by a lone dwarf, in notably heavy armor and bearing a large shield. Thibble Moonstriker, if his hearing had not failed him. An odd name, but if the armor was not just for show, then likely a passable combatant at least.

Still, there was no reason to ignore the old man. More aid was unlikely to be rejected. "Haul, son of Hywel, at your service, elder," he says with a bow. "What do you need?"

[nyyarg]

As Thrakk approached the edge he eyed the towering trees that seemed to be the source of the commotion. He thought back to late last night when he arrived in town, he had been exhausted and it had been dark, but he was fairly certain he hadn't seen trees. For a split second, the scene struck him as absurd; the trees looked, at the moment, to be perfectly natural, even beautiful in the morning light. Except these trees weren't there last night, he reminded himself. He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the situation.
Looking at the crowd, he spotted the graybeard asking for help. Some other dwarves had gone to his assistance already, but he suspected another hand might be needed. He hurried over to them.
"Odin's blessing upon you. How can I be of assistance, honored elder?"

[Gem_Knight]

"You have my claws at your service as well, I always aim to bring honor to the Gygax Fireblood Clan and the family name Doyle. Vancil at your service." He gives a small bow.

[Asmodean]

The sight of the trees are... disconcerting to say the least. Borts had always been a bit of a sceptic when it came to the old stories of attacking trees. He had never thought an attack by them before and had suspected that it was tales of treants blown out of proportions. But this... this was enough to send chill down the spine of even a sturdy dwarf such as him. It was unnatural. Or too natural... He didn't know, he's no philosopher or druid or anything. He just knew they'd have to clear that new forest out as soon as possible. Good work for axes, at least.

Then the call for help and for volounteers reaches the soldier and he falls out of the line to have a quiet chat with the sergeant nearby.
After being granted permission to leave the wall, and being freed from his temporary position in the militia the young Stormaxe hurries of the wall and to join the growing gathering of volounteers. "If'n ye're be needin' help," he calls out, loudly in a particularly thick accent. "Then I'm at yer service as well. Borts son o' Brun o' clan Stormaxe." Giving a clanking bow the dwarf also manages a friendly half-salute to the one face he recognized: Thrakk, from his own settlement. Fancy running into him here.

[nyyarg]

Thrakk's eye goes wide at the sight of the "dwarf" named Vancil. Sleipnir's Mother! Is that a dwarf or a dragon? He looks away and imperceptibly shakes his head. By comparison, the instant trees seem almost normal to him.

[ArcturusV]

The elder dwarf drops to the ground, and crawls towards the feet of Thibble, groveling and saying something that was very hard to make out as intelligible words, though it sounded like thanks. He clung at the feet, kissing the dwarf's boots for a good 15 seconds of potentially awkward moment. At the very least the other dwarves heading out to the wall seemed disgusted as they saw the scene to varying degrees, from shaking their heads at it to spitting on the ground.

"Aye, thank ye! Thank ye all!" the dwarven elder said, finally standing up, with a loud pop of his knees and spine as he got back on his feet. He dusted himself off, taking a bit of fussy maintenance to make sure no bits of dirt were lodged his his knee length beard. His clothing did not get the same attention, and was practically caked in dust, mud, and sweat, taking a dull brown appearance.

"All such stout, strong hearted young dwarves! Surely ye'd help me!" he paused, suddenly freezing awkwardly, "Och... yeh... manners... Tomas Copperskull, of the Copperskull clan."

[Asmodean]

The groveling makes Borts supremely uncomfortable, even though he's not the focus of it. It wasn't right, it wasn't proper of a dwarf, any dwarf, to behave like that. It was more fitting a goblin. He guesses it is disgusting, but he feel more pity than disgust. Clearing his throat roughly he speaks up, hoping to avoid any more of it. "Right. So I'm thinkin' maybe it'd be a good idea if ye'd tell us exactly what ye'd need our help wit'? Has it sometin' ta do wi'tha trees tha jest sudd'nly started to sprout a siege?"

[Shinovar]

Thibble winces slightly at being called strong hearted. That is not a name he has earned.

"Elder, Borts is right. We are here to serve, but we have little time to waste."

[ArcturusV]

"Oh, time, time. Yes. Time is important. Really important..." Tomas looks up towards the sky, towards the rising sun, squinting as he stares at it. "Been too late already. Maybe not. But aye, help." Tomas seemed a bit more animate now as he looked back at the dwarves. He was pacing back and forth with a bounce in his step, his words accompanied by wide, sweeping gestures. "My baby, my baby got taken over. Right in the middle of the night. Bunch just came in and took her, roughed me up a bit and kicked me out! I need volunteers! You said you'd volunteer right? Will you help me get my baby back?"

[Asmodean]

"Aye, we did. Ye dinnae need ta doubt tha'," the soldier in the group of volounteers answers, maybe a tad grumpily. The way the old dwarf asked made him feel like the greybeard doubted their word. That didn't sit well with the proud young axe. But still... the old one seemed to be a bit... touched in the head, and he if he had been roughed up he was probably more unbalanced than usual. He probably deserved some patience. So with a calming breath, just short of a sigh, Borts continues: "Now, who or wha' is yer baby? I'm guessin' yer nae talkin' aboot a toddler, right?"

[Ajadea]

Haul nods. "Of course." Taken over? A place, then, that Copperskull rightfully owned. That he had been evicted from by a gang of some sort. That was one part of Soggy he was less fond of. Though Haul, unlike most, was not discomfited by the lack of solid protection overhead, crimes seemed far more common here. Perhaps it was that few would dare break law in Ironheart lands, where justice was enforced by cold steel.

"Well, as you say, time is important. Can you take us to your baby, elder?"

[nyyarg]

Thrakk takes a step back at the behavior of Tomas Copperskull, wondering if he has made a mistake by offering his aid. Still, the offer was made and he intends to help. He lets the other volunteers talk to Tomas as he tries to recall if he has ever heard anything about the Copperskull clan.

Knowledge (local) - [roll0]

[Gem_Knight]

"Good sir do you have any idea who or what took your baby?"

((Sorry for the short post... been busy today and wanted to make sure you all knew I hadn't dropped off the face of the earth >.>))

[ArcturusV]

Thrakk: You cannot recall anything about the Copperskull Clan at the moment.

Tomas shook his head, "Nae! I cannot go back! Nae! Not until it is done with!" He stamped his foot a bit, crossed his arms, and made a good show of being defiant. But it crumbled quickly, a tremor showing in the elder's stance, and his head dropping down. "I be afraid..." he admitted quietly.

"... they came outta the trees. Biggun's. Tall en skinny like some bundle of twigs. Tougher en they looked..."

[Shinovar]

"if you can't go back with us, then we need you to give us directions and descriptions. Who came out of the trees?"

Thibble feels sorry for the old man, but he could me much quicker and more direct in such dire circumstances.

[ArcturusV]

At that Tomas knelt down in the dirt, and using his finger started scrawling out in the dirt. "This is the town," he said, drawing a little X in the dirt, "and this is the lake," followed by a large ovoid which clearly was meant to replicate Lake Soggy. "And this here is Copperskull home," he said, drawing an X on the other side of the lake from the town, some distance away from the lake shore, "about 3 miles from lake."

At the question about who came, he shrugged, "Things. Bigguns. Twiggy. Never seen one like 'em. Not in all my years out on the homestead. Seen lots of stuff. But not those."

[nyyarg]

Thrakk looks hard at Tomas for a moment and then looks up to address the dwarves that have offered their aid. "If it is our intention to assist him, I suggest we make haste. The trees that gather at the walls here are doing little more at the moment than casting tall shadows on this town, and I for one would rather seek out the cause of this incursion than to wait here for these trees to wake." Turning his attention to the elderly dwarf, "Tomas, are there others at the Copperskull homestead?" Thrakk glances down at the crude map. "And is your homestead near the Elvish ruins?"

[SalmonOfDoubt]

Urist hobbled out of the stables and into the light, Bar following close behind. Seeing dwarves still running about, he hobbled his way towards the wall, wanting to see for himself what all this commotion was about trees. He spotted a ragtag group of dwarves clustered around one crouched in the dirt, and made his way towards them.

Wha's goin' on?

[Ajadea]

"I understand," Haul said, no louder than Tomas' admission had been. The trees closing in were worrisome enough, let alone the children of the trees that had evicted this elder from his own hall. A query catches his attention, and he turns to regard the newcomer. Six now. Not many, but certainly better than what lack of aid Tomas Copperskull had had before. "This man has been cast out of his own hall. We are going to return it to its rightful owner. Would you join us?" he asks the new arrival.

[SalmonOfDoubt]

Urist cocked his head slightly. He now decided to glance around, actually taking in the trees for the first time. What an unusual foe. He stood, wondering about them for moment, before he remembered that he had been asked a question.

Aye

Then he went back to regarding the trees.

Knowledge (Nature) - [roll0]

[Asmodean]

"Well then," the soldier in the group says curtly as he waits for Tomas to answer Thrakk's question about the ruins. He didn't care much about it, old ruins were of no interest to him, but he trusted the priest to ask the right questions, still he didn't want to waste time on waiting on answers that probably wouldn't help them any. "We have our objectiv an' we have our dest'nation. I say we gather wha' supplies we have or c'n buy quickly an' all meet up here as soon as dwarv'nly possible, what d'ye say aboot tha'?"

[Ajadea]

Haul shrugs. "I have all I need with me. If you - if any of you have things to get, go now. I can tell you what you missed when you return."

[Gem_Knight]

"I also brought anything I might need before leaving," Vancil explains, "I'm ready now good sirs. May our noble quest bring only triumph and glory!"

[ArcturusV]

Urist: You can tell those aren't local trees to the region. There's no old growth forest around here, and those trees obviously do belong to an old growth forest. You'd hazard a guess that they were at the youngest at least 90 years old. If you were to hazard a guess you'd peg them as from being from a high altitude zone, one with long winters and short summers, fairly wet all year long. While Soggy is in fact in a wet climate zone, it's winters are too mild and it's too low to really fit those as naturally occurring trees. The best you can figure is that they came from the Feldrin Mountains to the east, but that is a far trip even for a dwarf. Much less a tree.

"Elvish ruins? Elvish Ruins?!" Tomas kind of chuckled a bit, "Yea been listenin' ta too many drunkards. Dinnae ever be any elves. Justta myth. Like naturally hairless chins." He shook his head, "Nae, what happened was REAL, solid. I gots tha lumps ta prove it. Not some boogey elf in tha night.... Elvish Ruins... pssh...." he shook his head again, but was cracking a smile, "Dinnae think anyone was foolish enough ta believe in Elfs."

[Shinovar]

"I have prepared myself" Thibble says to the others. He looks at Tomas, letting the comment about elves slide. It is best not to question the elders unless it is essential.

[Gem_Knight]

"Why not, people will believe anything- just like there are people who believe in good dragons," Vancil scoffs.

[nyyarg]

Thrakk shakes his head and chuckles at Tomas' reaction to his question about the ruins. "I'll take that as a yes, then." he says smiling.
He turns to address the others. "I too am ready to leave."

[SalmonOfDoubt]

Urist regarded the group for a second, his mind still chewing on what the significance of these trees might be.

Got me things. Na' much.

[Asmodean]

Borts Stormaxe

Giving a slightly embarrassed chuckle Borts shrugs a bit and when the other volunteers looks askingly at him he shrugs more, making the scales in his armour jingle slightly. "I guess I'm tha only one needin' ta pack then. Give me half o' a glass an' I'll be back an' ready."
Saluting the others the Axe then hurries off, at least thankful that he owns little. It'd be quicker to pack. Most of the time he had asked for was to hurry over to his baracks and back.

I've stolen this way of measuring time from naval terms and/or swedish LARPs. A glass is half an hour. I think we can assume that people measure time in minutes and hours (or something very close to it) since many spells have durations that are best measured in that, but Borts is a military dwarf and far, far from an academic or mage, he doesn't care about measuring time more exactly than "a tenth of a glass" or the like. :smalltongue: