NWoD: Shadows of Nordland [IC]

[Wargor]

The sun was setting over the sea, slipping gently below the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of deep orange and pink. As the last rays of light faded, and the evening dark took full hold, a sense of peace settled over the village of Hjolfsborg. The fishing boats were ashore, their days catch plentiful, and the fields were empty, the farmers returned to their homes after a days toil in the fields.

With winter growing ever closer, the raiders had returned home only weeks before, bringing back the spoils of their attacks in all manner of forms; food, weapons and jewellery to name but a few. This meant that the village was once again brimming with life, friendships rekindled and families reunited as they finished their preparations for the long, cold, hard months that lay ahead of them. For now, though, they were content to bask in the last days of Autumn.

The peaceful atmosphere was shattered in but a moment. A sudden booming ring filled the air, the sheer noise of it cutting deep into your skulls, driving any sense of contentment from your mind and replacing it with a sudden thrill of uncontrollable fear. The ancient iron bell that had sat at the centre of the village for centuries was being rung, and that would only happen for one reason; the village was in danger. The sudden silence as the bell stopped ringing was shocking in it's clarity, but soon the shouting began. The crashing of doors being flung open, of booted feet racing towards the centre of the village filled the air, as every able bodied man and woman did as they had sworn to do; take up arms in defence of their home. Your home.

[savior indra]

"Ah damn... Here I thought I'd finally get a chance to rest." sighed Balthazar as he ran a hand through his wild mane of raven colored hair. He hefted his spear and moved casually towards the sounds of the bell, ice blue eyes carefully noting any fires that were nearby in case his spear wasn't enough.

[Donan]

Steam rose around Skold's ugly, scarred and burnt face as the smith dipped a heated blade into the bucket of water, the man waving it away with an air of impatience as he set the metal down and considered his work carefully, the result of several hours of hard labour and sweat.

With a grunt of annoyance he tossed it back in the melting pot to let the metal be recycled.

"Useless. Wasted time, and again." A gnarled fist struck the workbench angrily, narrowly missing a sharp dagger resting on the end. He turned away and looked around the armoury, taking solace in the vast array of weapons and tools on display.

Many of them hadn't found owners yet, but the smith remained confident they would when the time was right. He removed his apron and took a healthy swig of mead to cool off after the work, a moment of relaxation that was ruined by the ringing of the bell.

Curiously and swearing horribly he quickly moved to the armoury door as he grabbed his trusty polearm, bellowing out.

"Get some weapons, you blinded fools! Stop wasting time on panicking!"

[bluntpencil]

Ragnar, upon hearing the bell, flings his mead horn across the long-house table with a crash. He grunts, and gets to his feet, pulling on his armoured jacket, lifting his sword and shield.

He lifts his voice, projecting it across the room to those with whom he drinks. He held no rank over his fellows. Hell, some were more important than he. But still, he was considered to be something of a natural leader, so they did look to him when he spoke.

"Right, those of you with backbone, to me. We earn our mead this evening."

And with that, his sword was drawn, and he strides out the door, the others following.


Okay, attempting to use Inspiring to apply the Inspired condition to those nearby.

First: Presence + Socialize, to see how many friends I'm drinking with...

[roll0]

Followed by Presence + Expression (Inspire) -3 for a large group to apply Inspired to everyone listening:

[roll1]

Edit: 4 total successes for Socialize. 2 for Inspire. Successes all round.

Apply the Inspired condition to allies.

[Noface23]

Ælfwynne waits 'till the room is clear then grabs her kitchen knife and slinks out into the night.

[Entaris]

Lox, having been on his way back from scouting the opposite side of town, immediately checked his axes and began to stalk into town, one axe out in case of danger.

[roll0]

[Wargor]

As you make your way outside you're engulfed in the crowd rushing towards the centre of the village. Every able bodied man and woman are there, armed and armoured, each and every one scanning around them for any sign of the danger; fires, raiders, wolves, but there is nothing. Ragnar is followed by four companions, the warrior brothers Hjort and Leif, Rodmar the bard, and Solmund, the son of Jarl Bjorgolf.

By the time you reach the open square it is almost full to the brim with people. The crowd seem to open up in front of Ragnar's group, whether it be cause of him or the fact one of his companions is the Jarl's son is unclear. Skold is also shown similar respect, a way to the front opening up for the master blacksmith. Balthazar and Lox manage to slip through the mass of bodies, giving themselves a good view of the proceedings. Ælfwynne* however stays back, hiding in the shadow of a building, a rain barrel giving her the height needed to see everything clearly.

The bell is set in the very centre of the square, a menacing creation of black iron, set atop a wooden stage and hung off a frame. The bell is ancient, pre-dating the village itself. It's commonly said that when the village was founded, the bell and it's setting were the first structure to be erected. There are many legends told about it, the most common being that the tolling of the bell holds a certain magical quality, and that all creatures of the Fae, the Goblins and the Pixies, the Ogres and the Trolls, and all of their alien kin, are repelled by it's ring. The story goes that if ever the bell is broken, then the village will lose the protection it grants them, and they will be swallowed up by the evil denizens of the Black Woods that lie to the east.

Kneeling beside the bell, panting with exhaustion, is a huge figure, easily recognisable as Hjalmar, the Jarl's brother. Hjalmar is one of the mightiest warriors of the village, known for his massive bulk and great skill at arms. To see him there, kneeling and drained, is shocking to you all. Standing next to him, one hand resting on his brothers shoulder, is the Jarl himself, Bjorgolf. Jarl Bjorgolf is an impressive looking man, standing half a head taller than most men, with a muscled frame seemingly untouched by his advancing years. At just over fifty years old, he still looks just as strong and capable as a man half his age, showing no signs of weakening. He is well loved by the village, at the very least respected by all that live there. Turning to the crowd, Jarl Bjorgolf's gaze sweeps over everyone there, and it's clear he is filled with anger and sorrow.

“My friends,” he calls out, his deep, booming voice reaching out clear and strong, “Glad am I to see so many here, answering the call. Fear not, the village is not under attack. No, I fear it is far worse than that.” He stops and takes a deep breath, the anger rising with each and every word. “They have taken my niece. Young Hilda has been taken from the forest, stolen away like so many other girls before her.”

Angry shouts and cries erupt from the crowd. Beside Ragnar, Solmund utters an oath as he stares up at his father in shock. Murmurs start to spread, the anger of all those assembled here clear to hear; everyone here had been effected by the disappearances. They happened every few years, a young girl, still innocent, would disappear without a trace. The village elders say that it is the only way the Fae have to attack the village, only those who travel beyond the protective reach of the bell are open to be taken.

Raising a hand, the Jarl calls for quiet. “Peace my friends, worry not, for this day shall not be like the others. This day we shall not just let this happen. This day, we fight back! We shall search the forest, turn over every leaf and every rabbit hole if we need to. We shall find Hilda, and bring her home!” The crowd erupts into cheers, riding high on the Jarl's rousing words. The crowd starts to break up, smaller groups heading off towards the Black Woods to begin the search. The Jarl leaps down from the stage and heads up a group himself, determination clear on his face.

A lone figure is left standing there still at the end, an old man, possibly the oldest in the village, Thorvold. He stands stock still, leaning heavily on his walking staff, his face a mask of sorrow. Releasing an explosive breath, he shakes his head and begins to walk away, his pace slow but steady.

Sorry for the delay! Here's the next post. Let's see what you do!

[savior indra]

"Well, I suppose this could be a chance to test out how far I've mastered pyrokinesis. Now... what was it about this forest again?" thought Balthazar as he moved out of the way of the people eager to lower their life expectancy as they rushed for the forest.

Intelligence + Occult check to see if I know anything about the supernatural occurrences in the forest

[roll0]

Adding 10's to be re-rolled here

[roll1]

EDIT: wow those were some bad rolls.

[Entaris]

If we just burned down the Forest, we wouldn't have this problem... Lox thought wryly to himself, dancing through the shadows to follow the suspicious old man.

[roll0] (Spec: Stalking)

[Entaris]

And because I got oWoD and NWoD specs mixed up, here's my +1 for Specialty

[roll0]

[Noface23]

Ælfwynne stays more or less put, content for now to keep hidden and observe the proceedings

[bluntpencil]

So, Ragnar's little cousin was taken from them?

Ragnar looked to his four companions - Hjort, Leif, Rodmar and Solmund, giving a strong utterance in respect of Jarl Bjorgolf.

"Solmund, you had best see to assisting in leading the defence of the village. I would not wish to risk two of your good father's family at once."

Those that heard this would note the ambiguity in the statement, but he didn't elaborate further.

"The rest of you, with me, aye? We shall find Hilda, and punish her captors, or return on our shields."


Again, Inspiring.

Inspiring a large crowd.

[roll0]

Edit: Even with the -3 penalty, Ragnar successfully adds the Inspired condition to those that would try to find Hilda.

[Donan]

Skold's jaw sets at the news, the smith nodding sharply as the crowd begins to break up. He turns, rapping a hand on Ragnar's shoulder.

"With you then. Most of this rabble couldn't find their behinds with both hands."

[Wargor]

Balthazar

As you step aside and rack your brains, all you seem to remember are the childhood warnings that were engraved into your mind. Never stray from a path. Never go in alone. And never, ever, go into the Black Woods at night, for that is when the fairy folk play. And their games are fatal.

Lox

You keep to the shadows and follow Thorvold as he slowly but surely makes his way home. He gives no indication that he's seen or heard you as he enters his home, a small but homely cabin on the edge of the village, set next to the large timber walls. He disappears inside, closing the door behind him, the glow of a fire visible through the crack at the bottom. The cabins sole window is closed tightly against the night air.

Ragnar

For a moment Solmund looks like he might protest, the stubborn expression that flits across his face making him look like his fathers double, but it passes quickly. “You speak wisely Ragnar, I wouldn't wish to strain father any more by putting myself in danger. He loves Hilda like his own. Promise me you'll bring her home!” He grabs Ragnars forearm in a fierce warriors grip before turning away in a swirl of his cloak. He stalks away into the night, heading for the long house where the children and elderly would surely be gathered.

At your next words, Hjort and Leif let out twin shouts of agreement, banging their fists against their shields. Rodmar, ever on the search for a new story, grins and nods. “We follow you straight to Valhalla m'lord.” He states, the use of the title only half mocking. They follow you without question.

Skold

As you listen to Ragnar's short but hearfelt speech, you feel yourself filled with a sense of confidence like never before. With this young man in charge, you could do anything!

Ælfwynne

You see the old man walk away, and watch with interest as the younger man slips after him. As you stay their waiting you cannot help but see as the young warrior take command of his small group, unable to help the feeling that passes through you; that he is someone special, someone to watch. Maybe even someone to follow.

[bluntpencil]

Now, Ragnar is hotheaded and impulsive, but he's far from stupid. He's actually quite a bright lad, as far as the others are aware.

"Alright, lads, listen here!

We're not going to wander off into some fae trap in the woods. That's asking for trouble.

First we work out where our foe is... then we destroy him!"

Again, he raises his voice, which carries throughout the village, pointing around to indicate that his fellows should ask questions a little more subtly than he is doing,

"Who saw what happened? Alert me, and we shall punish the guilty!"


[roll0] Expression + Presence!

Okay, 4 successes including the re-roll. Not bad, should get folk coming forward. If not, my 3 buddies will be asking questions more subtly, and only need 3 successes to get an Exceptional Success and resolve the Inspired condition.

[Entaris]

Lox creeps to the window and peeks through it to see what the old man may be up to.

[roll0]

[savior indra]

"Wonderful. It's night time and guess what half the villagers are doing? Ignoring the warnings that they teach their brats. I didn't know that fate had a sense of irony." thought Balthazar with a halfhearted sigh.

"Still, this is excellent chance to study the supposed 'fairy folk' in their natural habitat." muttered Balthazar more to himself than to anyone else. He looked over at the group forming around Ragnar.

"Ragnar's an excellent warrior, probably would give me the best chance to survive in there."

"Let us make haste then the sun is hangs low and night time is not the domain of mortal men. We must tread carefully in their." said Balthazar as he made his way to join Ragnar's group.

[Donan]

Skold swung back to watch over Ragnar as he called out, the smith calmly resting a hand on his own sword as he observed. He was content to simply heed events for the moment, waiting for Ragnar to lead the way and begin the rescue as he saw fit.

He wasn't sure of the abilities of the others around them, even if he had faith in Ragnar's own skills. To put it simply, the blacksmith didn't know if he could rely on them to watch the bastard's back, and privately assigned the task to himself.