Sagas of the Människorna (IC)

[Amaril]

Come, friends, and listen! Listen, for I sing of the champions of Trondheim: valiant of heart, mighty of prowess, united in defiance of the forces of darkness to the ends of the earth itself. Against chaos and hardship the like of which had never been seen in their age, they stood as defenders of all the Människorna in honor and glory that shall live forever in memory. Listen, for I know the truth of their story, passed on from the skald Kaitlyn Finnsdottir herself, from their earliest beginnings to their greatest deeds of heroism. Listen!

For the past several moons, Trondheim's folk have battled against the winter. This year's has been exceptionally hard; the snows hardly let up for weeks into spring, and many swear the winds of the heaviest storms were strong enough to lift a man bodily from the ground and carry him off into the yonder--though you never saw anything of the sort. Now, finally, the sky has calmed and the ice thawed, and just in time. Today is the Feast of New Light, the holiday of the spring equinox, when blessings are sung and offerings made to Minon, Vidur, and Nuala, in celebration of the lengthening days and new growth. The Feast is always a day of joy and rest from labor in Trondheim, and so far, today's celebration has been as welcome as any before.

The village rose early, before dawn, nearly all making their way to the rudimentary cluster of stone stands and shelters Trondheim calls a temple. For hours, Lars led families in ceremonies and the making of offerings, giving thanks to the gods for the turning of the season and praying for bountiful growth from the coming year's crops. Now that the rituals are done, those families in good standing have gathered in the great feast chamber of Iver's Hall, and the more celebratory part of the holiday has been in full swing for some time. Casks are opened, cups filled, festive roasts and sweetmeats in supply enough to ensure no complaints. In the corner, Eirik regales a circle of children with a rousing tale of King Albrecht, an old favorite. Familiar drinking songs echo off the stone walls, to which couples and groups dance. Even Bjorn has managed to be in attendance, though he eats little and coughs too loudly and often for comfort, leaning heavily on his walking staff when he must leave his seat.

Atop the low hill beyond the wooden village gates, Halvard is roused from his own thoughts by an unexpected sight. Off in the near distance, something large streaks across the sky towards the village; its shape is obscured by a thick cloud of dark smoke that trails in its wake, but through the screen, you can make out flashes of scales, horns, and huge, leathery wings.

The festivities are interrupted suddenly as the heavy double doors of the hall burst open. Freya, old Anais' daughter, stumbles in through the entrance, panting for breath as she shakes her disheveled hair out of her face. The noise quickly dissipates as the echo of the doors reaches everyone's ears, and what little chatter is left is swiftly silenced as, eyes wide with terror, she shouts out one word.

"DRAGON!"

[Farmerbink]

If they ever did half as much for the people of Trondheim as Ori has done, I'll be a vharg's uncle! Try building walls, huts, and swords out of grain, and see how far that gets you! Edrich thought, musing in solitude outside the temple. As Freya ran past, he couldn't help but notice her frantic near-sprint. What's this all about, crone? he thought, as he rose to follow. From his place by the door, his jaw went slack and eyes widened at her exclamation. As the townsfolk erupted in sound, his voice joined the near-unfathomable din. WHAT!? A DRAGON?!? Gods, we're doomed! Without waiting to think, he turns on his heels and runs at a sprint to his hovel. Recovering his weapons, he hastily dons his scale before running back where he came., thinking: If there's a dragon to be fought, The all-father himself couldn't keep me from it!

[Kish]

Birkita assists in the ceremonies with her characteristic enthusiasm; only someone who knew her very well, if there was anyone who fit that description, could detect any difference in her attitude during any of the ceremony's she's participated in as an acolyte. Though she knows the story Eirik is telling by heart herself, she's pleased to see the children appreciate it.

At Freya's cry, she turns and, her duties forgotten, runs toward the mysterious flying figure. A dragon? Here? Is it attacking?

[bryn0528]

Halvard awoke without much ceremony. Startled by something, he didn't quite know what, or what the foul taste was in his mouth. He wiped something sticky from the side of his face and experimentally tasted his hand. No, that isn't it. Overhead, all hell broke loose (as potentially literal as possible). Halvard wandered over casually to a small cluster of trees and made water. Halvard promised not to eat strange berries again as it burned. Back at his camp, he watched with a passive interest the flaming storm as it made headlong toward Trondheim... “Oh hells!” he finally exclaimed, and ran around his camp collecting pots and spare goods and tossing them into his pack. Since packing seemed to take too long, he ran off to the village. But then he figured he might not be able to find his way back, so he ran the fifteen feet back to camp and threw his remaining possesions in his bag. Then it might weigh him down and he wouldn't be able to run as fast....

After a process of running back and forth several times. Eventually, Halvard ran down the woody trail with his pack clinkng. “Don’t worry! I’m a-coming!” He then stopped and seriously considered what he was doing. It took him another several minutes, but he came running towards Trondheim.

[Redshaw]

Uhtred grins like a wildman. His left hand bears a limewood shield, Ivar's wolf (http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/168/2/b/vector_celtic_wolf_by_lupas_deva-d53va8q.jpg) painted on its face with woad blue ink. His right hand grips his saix - a short sword smithed with rods of iron and steel, named Small Death. Like the days of his youth, avoiding Bjorn's boring history lessons to escape into the woods where he could butcher an endless horde of goblins, the now matured Uhtred swung his sword in wild patterns, beheading imagined foes and shield-checking jotgnar berserkers. Eirik offers gory detail to Uhtred's pantomimed slaughter, much to the delight of children and drunken villagers. He roars and curses, rolling and falling dramatically as the skald describes King Albrecht in peril. He lays on the ground, arms spread wide in near-defeat, much to the screaming delight of his young audience, and it is just as he is about to leap to his feet in sudden and eventual triumph that Freya interrupts the story.

"Dragon!"

Still laying down, Uhtred's head raises suddenly to stare at the girl incredulously. That wasn't right. She must be mad. And yet the terror in her voice and the heaving of her shoulders was in earnest exhaustion. Whatever the threat was, she believed she and the rest of the village was in danger.

The young warrior leaps to his feat and moves to collect his weapons, gathered at the halls' front entrance. He calculated the possibilities as he moves. Perhaps she was drunk. Perhaps it was a vision from the gods; such occurrences were not unheard of. But a dragon..?

He clears the confusion and outrage in the hall as clearly as he can with his booming voice, "Warriors of Trondheim! Take up your arms and stand with me; fight well, defend your families, please the gods! The women and the children, stay here in the hall and do not leave until we have secured the boundaries. DO. NOT. LEAVE."

The stone walls of the hall would be the best protection available for the villagers. He did not know what lied outside, but be it gods, dragons or men, Uhtred would either save the Trondheim or die trying. He looks to catch Bjorn's old eyes before leaving; he hated to leave his master unattended, but the old man would understand. Would this be the last time he saw tall Bjorn? Would the sickly, dying man outlive him? Uhtred's blood pumped with anxiety and fear, but he knew it would not control him. He was an Ivarson: the blood of heroes ran in his veins and he was born to do battle.

Before leaving, he also seeks to capture the attention of Kaitlyn; the girl was his shield-sister and to go into battle without her at his side would be a poor omen.

All-Father. If I die tonight, grant me entrance to your hall; I know Ivar waits for me.

Uhtred steels his resolve, grips Knutbane in his hand and takes his place next to the door, glancing outward for sign of the alleged dragon. Every one of his nerves screamed to charge out into the night and face whatever might be there, but Olfred's lessons were beaten into Uhtred's bones and he knew that to leap blindly was an assured death; bravery was easily confused for stupidity. Instead, his large, callused hand comes to grip Freya's shoulder tightly, attempting to gain both her attention and shake her of fear.

"What did you see? Where was it?"

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn leaned against one of the walls, arms crossed in front of her. A smile played across her face as she watched Uhtred's antics. It was funny how little some people changed over the years, and she was glad to see the wonder in the eyes of the children. A particularly emphatic swing made her chuckle, shaking her head in amusement. She glanced around the rest of the hall, the sound of the festivities washing over her. It was good to finally be able to just enjoy the festivities of the season. The hard winter had taken it out of everyone.

It was with surprise that she turned to see who was bursting in, she'd thought that everyone had already arrived in the hall. The rest of the gathering seemed equally shocked to see the disheveled Freya. Kaitlyn's heart sank as the woman shouted out "DRAGON!"

Time seemed to crystalise as panic and disbelief in equal measure rippled through the hall. It was Uhtred who cut through it, calling for an organised defense. Without waiting to see if the others would rally to his call, she turned to the children arrayed around Eirik.

"Go, now! Find your family in the hall. We will keep you from harm!"

Turning her attention back to the entrance-way, she saw Uhtred's questing gaze. Nodding in response to his unasked question, she jogged over to him. Her bow and shield had been left back at her homestead, the idea that she might need them here of all places unthinkable. Steeling herself, she drew her sword and cast worried glances to the skies.

[Amaril]

For a long few seconds, silence fills the air following Freya's cry; with Uhtred's call to his fellow warriors, the tension is broken. From his place at one of the high tables, Olfred rises and stands on his bench. "You all heard Uhtred! Ready yourselves and form up--if there's truly a dragon on the way, now's your chance to put your practice to use!"

Families begin to cluster together, women shielding their young with their arms. Nervous conversation and children's cries buzz through the hall. "Why would a dragon come all the way down here?"
"It can't be true...there's some madness on the girl, there has to be..."
"Mama, what's going to happen to us?"

Still struggling to catch her breath, Freya turns to Uhtred. "I-it was...I was outside the gates...this cloud of smoke and fire, it...it was so fast...it's coming straight towards us, please, you have to stop it!" Some of the gathered men swallow nervously or bow their heads in prayer; others simply shake their heads, smirking with certainty that Freya must have been seeing things. As Edricht returns from his homestead, weapons in hand, and Halvard comes clanking up the path to the hall, Olfred shoulders his way through the group, standing over Freya with a hard look in his eyes. "That's enough whimpering, girl. If something truly means harm to any of us, my men and I will make it rue the day it was born, you can rest assured of--" He is abruptly cut off as the air is filled with a colossal roar, like the sound of tearing metal magnified a hundred fold. Even within the few seconds it persists, you can hear its source swiftly draw closer. Silence falls once again, the eyes of the former disbelievers widening even further than Freya's. Children begin to cry in terror; in the background, Eirik and Bjorn move among the crowd, trying to soothe the panic.

Olfred scans the assembled group of fighters, brow furrowed in thought. Gaze falling on Uhtred, he appears to come to a decision. "Uhtred, you come with me, I'll need you to help lead the defense. You lot, with us as well" he nods to four of the other warriors. He turns his eyes to Edricht, a look of disdain flashing across his face. "You stay here--someone has to keep these people from panicking senseless. The rest of you, likewise." He pays no heed at all to Kaitlyn or Birkita, and seems not even to notice that Halvard has arrived. Rolling his shoulders and gripping his axe, he sets off down the path to the rest of the village, motioning for the others to follow.

[bryn0528]

Halvard, for the first time in three years, returned to the hall he left behind. He looked around with crazed eyes and found that he could not recognize the faces that stared back at him. Had he run to the wrong village? No matter, he cried out a single word, just as the roar punctuated the atmosphere: “Dragon!” In the following seconds of silence, he added “Oh, I guess you know already know.” He cleared his throat awkwardly.

[Comissar]

Despite the terror-inducing roar, Kaitlyn doesn't hesitate when Olfred calls Uhtred to fight with him. She heads over to join the rallied warrior's, weapon at the ready. She hadn't been called upon to fight, but she'd be damned if she cowered in the hall and did nothing to protect the people she grew up with.

"You're going to have to watch my back, Uhtred. Only have my sword with me."

[Farmerbink]

Edricht waits until Olfred turns his attention away from him and spits into the ground. The hell I'm gonna sit around and let you all die for me! Without waiting for anyone else to say one way or another, he draws his bow and heads towards the gates mentioned. He keeps to the alleys and narrow passageways off the main road. Keeping one eye to the ground, and one eye to the sky, he half-runs/half-sneaks towards the gates. Where is that thing?!? Why is it here?!?

[roll0]

[Kish]

Unaddressed, Birkita wordlessly joins the others heading toward the dragon. She offers no explanation without being specifically challenged for one.

[Redshaw]

The dragon’s roar marks Uhtred’s fear settling in his stomach like a ball of lead. He remembers the dragons of Bjorn’s stories and since the dragon-queen's betrayal of the All-Father, they were signals of death and destruction. Their scales, unassailable shield walls of steel-hard keratin. Their claws, raking, razor-tipped spears. Their breath… death. If this was a dragon true,neither all the bravery in the world, nor all the rigorous training of invincible Olfen would save him or his village. There would be no future for Trondheim; there would be no future for him.

Kaitlyn’s request, in other circumstances, would have been another weight to bare on his shoulders. Of course, he would watch his shield-sister’s back: he always did. But he also considered the men under his command and, indeed, all the people of Trondheim his responsibility, and that was a weight he was still unused to bearing despite his willingness to do so. But knowing it was a dragon he faced meant that death was assured; he no longer had to fear its uncertainty and that would make fighting back much easier.

Hár. Tonight I shall feast in your corpse-hall.

There was no point in attempting to keep the villagers calm and so Uhtred did not protest as he watched his cousin very specifically disobey his uncle’s orders: the dragon would dash away the stone walls of Ivar’s Hall like a pile of autumn leaves.

Uhtred does not immediately register Halvard’s presence, but when he does recognize the older man, joy fills his heart. Of course Halvard would come: despite his self-inflicted exile, the druid loved his home. He clasps the druid’s shoulder and squeezes in comraderic gratitude. They would all die, of course, but the druid was wise and powerful in the ways of magic; perhaps they could wound the dragon enough that it would think twice before attacking another human settlement at the very least.

Uhtred greets the priestess with a smile. She was as annoying as she was clever, and her aid against the foe would be welcome. Perhaps her goddess might even protect them a little, if it amused her to do so.

The warrior grips Knutbane tightly; there was a time in his life that he did not carry the heirloom weapon wherever he went, but Olfred beat that bad habit out of him even before he grew interested in girls. It was a beautiful weapon, its shaft carved from treated oak and its jagged blade forged of steel and iron. It has taken many lives, but it has yet to take the heart of the one it was made for.

His resolve set, prepared to die in dragonfire, Uhtred comes to walk in stride with his weapon-master.

“Die well, Olfred.”

As they walked, Uhtred considered what they had that might at least harm the dragon. You could not form a shield wall against a dragon, no could you lure it into a kill pit. Arrows might work, if they were capable of piercing its hide, which he doubted even Edricht could do. The obvious answer was magic, but for as much faith and respect he had in Halvard, he was uncertain it was in his abilities to slay a dragon. Perhaps... it might be reasoned with. If there was reasoning with a dragon. If it wanted to destroy his village, there was little he could do to stop it; but perhaps if there was something it wanted more, something he could offer. What did dragons want? Virgins and gold, said the stories. Uhtred was neither a virgin nor a rich man.

Still, there would be no harm in at least asking. Assuming he was not burned to a crisp before saying hello.

[bryn0528]

Halvard smiled absently when Uthred grasped his shoulder. It took him a moment to register who it was, which put a genuine shine to his eye. As for Uthred‘s hand, it surely would not come away clean again, but Halvard would not take oftense if Uthred wiped the grime away. Slowly, Halvard began to recognize the others; Kaitlyn first (he really must ask after Adíl), and Edricht and Birkita (though her only in a perfunctory sense, considering Halvard‘s, and consequently Uthred‘s, interpretations of the old stories were not quite eye to eye andthe strife of which had much to do with Halvard‘s aforementioned exile). He then came t notice that they were leaving the hall again, and he spoke frantically.

“No, no! Have you not heard, not? There is a dragon on the way, way. Dragon. You are going the wrong way, way to be running away, way. Running. We should go the other way, go and hide under the cover of trees, cover.”

He scratched his cheek with a hollow gaze. “Oh,” he commented to himself. “You mean to fight with it, fight. And to die and enter Hár‘s holiest, die. And to at least scare the beast away, way. Dragon.” He scratched himself again, still following behind since, well, he could not think of something more productive to do with his time except... to scratch... this damn itch! He might have fleas again, he thought to himseof, and mentally noted to have Edricht check later, and he briefly entertained the thought that there was something he had forgotten to do this morning....

[Redshaw]

Uhtred snaps a look of pure fury at Halvard. It is not out of distaste or true anger with the druid, that he offers the scathing look, but an attempt to communicate the deadly seriousness of the situation. His following words are spoken much more gently than the preceeding expression.

"Stormcaller. Our people are not like you. There will be no life outside of this village for them; they cannot survive the woods and its beasts and cold. We must stand or the Människorna are forgotten forever."

[bryn0528]

Halvard did not meet Uthred‘s gaze. “Just as they, they would not survive the cold, cold, would not survive dragonsfire, survive.” Halvard rolled his gaze to Uthred and put a hand on his shoulder. “A fools death is not the same as a hero‘s,” he said with unusual clarity, a forlorn smile at his lips. “There is no shame in fighting with your wits in place of swords. Hár values wisdom as well as honor.”

[Farmerbink]

Edricht catches bits of his cousin and the hermit's conversation as they all travel (him apart from the group) towards the gates. A strange gleam comes into his eye and he nods once, agreeing with the wisdom of this possibly-deranged man, but he says nothing, moving silently on his way.

[Amaril]

For a moment, Olfred's eyes flash with fury at Edricht's disobedience--but he quickly masks the emotion, glancing about at the other assembled warriors. He gives a snort of disdain over his shoulder. "Hmph...fine, if you're so eager to throw your life away. Gregor, you have command of the defense instead." Gregor looks visibly relieved, though his face quickly returns to worry as he remembers that the dragon breaking through to the hall is still entirely likely. The rest of the warriors, hefting the meager weaponry and armor they were able to retrieve with haste, appear to share his sentiment.

At Uhtred and Halvard's debate over running away and the destruction of the Människorna, Sigurd, the smith's son, looks ready to turn and run in a second. "F-forgotten forever? But...but there are dragon-slayers in the bigger villages, aren't there? The queen must have them, she has a whole army...we should leave, go to her for help, she'd be bound to send men against the dragon, wouldn't she?"

"And what happens to the village in the meantime?" counters Sasha, the only woman besides Kaitlyn and Birkita to have followed the group. "Uhtred has the right of it, if we don't stop it here, everyone up in the Hall is food. Even if all of Trondheim ran for Thorskard, how many would outrun the dragon?"

"You ought to listen to Sasha, bloodless" Olfred rebukes Sigurd. "Besides, none of you have any right to give this up as hopeless before we've even put up a fight--not even you, Uhtred. We will stop this thing, and I don't intend to die in the doing. So if you", he rounds on Halvard, "think your only chance is to run, I suggest you do it now. Otherwise, quit your bellyaching and find a weapon."

With his ears pricked and his eyes cast towards the sky, the sound of whooshing wings quickly draws Edricht's sight to the dragon. Over the top of the line of sharpened logs Trondheim calls a wall, a great cloud of smoke rushes towards the central village, already drawing alarmingly close; flashes of orange fire briefly glint off rage-filled eyes and illuminate the huge, winged bulk of the beast. As it closes the distance, it becomes easier to judge its size--easily the length of five horse carts, with wings nearly twice that long across. How something so huge can move so fast, he cannot fathom, but at its current pace, it will be within arrow-range in only seconds.

[Redshaw]

Pondering his old friend's wise words in silence, Uhtred grimaces at the sight of smoke and flames. Fire was nearly equivalent to death for a town of thatch and wood. Homes would burn, treasured belongings with them. Entire life's works gone up in smoke and ash. He clutches Knutbane as though he were a child with a favored doll. Fear courses through his veins and he bids himself to kill it.

His uncle's words hit home; Uhtred always thought of himself as a rational, not eager to accept hopelessness, but willing to know its presence. His instinct was to disagree with Barka's only living son, but the man was not only his kin: he was his tutor. He wondered Olfred truly believed such nonsense as their little militia offering pitched battle against a dragon. And then understanding dawns on Uhtred: it did not matter whether or not he believed it. He needed only his soldiers to believe it.

Morale was a more powerful weapon than a hundred sharpened swords and a true commander must never be seen to give up hope, for it is what kept soldiers fighting long after they should have stopped. And so Uhtred took up his uncle's example and lifted up his atgeir to gain the attention of all who followed them.

"Listen, sons and daughters of Trondheim! That over-sized, scaled chicken believes itself a god! It thinks it can burn our homes; but it does not know we can rebuild them. It thinks it can devour our children; but it does not know our beloved mothers and wives can bare more sons. In its hubris, it would seek to bury us, but little does it know that we are seeds!

He gestures toward Kaitlyn, his shield-sister and best friend. "Spin us a song, spear-singer."

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn nodded and began to sing (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uP_Iee-D4U4&index=4&list=RDaTI2SA1HFcE). Eyes to the sky, she called to mind the heroic stories of old and let them inspire her, washing away her fears and doubts. As she did so, she reached out and changed the weave around her. A thick fog rolled out from around her, human shapes materialising within it. As it dissipated, the small band of defender's found themselves joined by visions of their heroes, each and every one of them readying their blades and bows.

Though she knew them to be false, the images reassured Kaitlyn. These were the legends who had crafted the world as they knew it today. Even if it were only their echoes, she was glad to be able to fight alongside them.

Kaitlyn will first use Inspire Courage, then cast Silent Image to make it appear as though there are another 40 warriors arrayed around the defender's. If there's not enough time to do both, she will start with Silent Image.

[Farmerbink]

From his position inside the gates, Edricht draws and sights down his bow. Show me your neck, fiend! he curses under his breath as he waits for- that! At the first sight of the creatures head and neck, Edricht looses his arrow, quickly nocking a second before looking up to see its flight.


[roll0] initiative

surprise round standard action:
[roll1] short bow attack (70-foot range increment: atk at -2 for every 70 feet beyond)
[roll2] (24, x3) short bow CC
[roll3] damage

edit: above rolls do not include a potential +1 to atk and damage (from inspire confidence, if it's active in time).

Unrelated, do we have anything resembling a map? I think I have a fairly good idea of what I'm looking at, but I'm generally a visual person :-P

[bryn0528]

Halvard turned to look at the ghostly warriors, and felt a certain pride as Kaitlyn began to sing. Of course he would not run, he never had to head to the village at all, but the looming ball of fire and smoke drew him there, and the love of his friends and family kept him there. He dropped his pack, it would be too heavy to carry into battle, and he brandished his wooden shield (overgrown with moss, water-warped and a little rotten) and his curved truncheon, which felt silly in the face of a fire-breathing dragon. He scratched the back of his neck with his club, a little agitated, and failed to recall what was bothering him so.

Initiative: [roll0]. (For whenever it comes around..)

[Kish]

Birkita frowns at Edricht's immediate attack. So much for hoping it wasn't here to fight.


[roll0]

[Redshaw]

Forgot to do this in the last post. [roll0]

[Amaril]

As Kaitlyn's song reaches the warriors' ears, nearly all of them seem immediately reassured--they grip their weapons tighter, stand taller, their faces fill with defiance as they regard the approaching cloud. When the illusory allies appear beside them, many jump or exclaim with surprise, but their resolve does not seem shaken; you can hear Sigurd muttering something about it being a sign from the gods, unaware that Kaitlyn is the source.

Matching Edricht's movements, Sasha draws her own bow, loosing her arrow just a fraction of a second after Edricht fires. It's impossible to tell which, but it looks as though at least one of them have found their mark; from within the smoke cloud, another roar splits the air, nearly deafening you, and the best within it falters in its flight, though only for a moment. Gradually dropping lower, it approaches the palisade.

"This is it, men!" Olfred calls out, raising his shield and banging the head of his axe against its front in a brazen challenge. "Let's show this monster why taking a bite at Trondheim was the worst mistake it'll ever make!"

Instead of descending within weapon reach, though, the dragon levels out its flight several feet above the top of the wall. Now that it's closer, you can easily distinguish its shape through the cloud, which billows from its mouth and is pulled backward along its body by the air. Its scaly head, large as a grown man all on its own, is dominated by a huge, tooth-filled mouth, from which tongues of flame occasionally burst to reflect off its cruel orange eyes. It has only two legs, at the back of its body, with its gigantic wings taking the place of forelimbs; its tail is longer on its own than the rest of its body. Nearly its whole hide is covered in bony plates, the gaps between filled with finer scales that almost look like mail armor. Just as it approaches, you can see that its right wing has an arrow protruding from one of its membranes, though it hardly seems to notice the injury anymore. Before you have much of a chance to look, though, the flames within the beast's mouth quickly begin to glow brighter, and a low whooshing sound, like dry wood swiftly igniting, starts building in your ears.

"It's going to breathe!" Olfred cries. "Take co--"

Fire erupts from the dragon's jaws, abruptly cutting him off.

All of you will need to make Reflex saves to get out of the breath weapon area.

[Farmerbink]

Edricht tries to dive behind a small stone hovel to take cover. He then peeks out from hiding to loose another arrow at the fearsome beast. Gods, that was close!


[roll0] reflex save

[roll2] short bow attack
[roll1] (25, x3) potential crit confirmation
[roll3] damage

(attack and damage rolls include the bonus from inspire courage)

[Comissar]

Eye's widening, Kaitlyn dived to one side in an effort to evade the Dragon-fire. Nimbly, she landed with a roll, coming up on one knee, defiance in her eyes as she whipped her head around to try and spot where the Dragon had flown on to.

Reflex Save - [roll0]

Initiative - [roll1]

Will edit further when I know the results

[Kish]

"Gah!" Birkita attempts to dive clear of the dragon's breath.

If she's still conscious when her initiative comes around, she'll cast Bless, giving every ally within 50 feet of her +1 to attack rolls and saving throws against fear for the next minute.
Reflex save: [roll0]

[Redshaw]

Uhtred roars as he dives to the side. His initial instinct is to dive a top Kaitlyn, protecting her from dragonfire with his own strength, but she is already away

reflex save: [roll0]

[bryn0528]

Halvard hardly even noticed the dragon overhead, or at least just how quickly the damn thing moved. At it's terrible screech and roaring overhead, he turned at the last possible second, catching a full blast of hellfire.

Will edit in a response once I know the result. What's a successful save? I'm guessing that's not quick enough.
Reflex save: [roll0].

[Amaril]

The dragon lets out a piercing screech as the fire bursts forth, the light nearly blinding; the heat coming off the blast is unbelievable. As it carves a path along the ground towards you, all of you move to dive out of its way. Kaitlyn, Uhtred, and Edricht all escape largely unharmed, though each of you can feel your skin blistering as the fire passes close. Halvard's dodging is less skillful--though he avoids the center of the blast, several tongues of flame still scorch him as he dives for cover, leaving painful burns and incinerating parts of his clothing.

Birkita, ironically, is least lucky. As the dragon swoops down, she finds herself momentarily frozen in shock, unable to move quickly enough. Just before the fire reaches her, she is knocked sideways by a sudden impact, which she dimly realizes is Sigurd, leaping out of the way in panic without checking that his path is clear. Crashing headlong into her, he throws her clear of the fire, but his own momentum is halted; as Birkita is knocked spinning, she can do nothing to stop him from being consumed by the flames. As they sweep past, he and two of the other warriors are caught in their path. Within seconds, their flesh blackens and shrivels from the intense heat, their armor covered with soot and ash. It's impossible to know whether their deaths are so quick they have no chance to scream, or whether they're simply being drowned out by the incredible noise.

With a rushing of wings, the dragon stops the blast, wheeling around in the air with agility you wouldn't have thought possible. Where once was a broad pathway of packed dirt between the wood and stone houses of the inner village, now lies a huge, smoldering scorch-mark. Everything within the dragon's path that can catch fire has done so, and the flames are quickly spreading across the dry thatched roofs of the buildings. Along with all of you, Olfred and Sasha seem to have escaped the fire relatively unscathed, though Sasha quickly pats out a fire that has caught on her sleeve as she emerges from between the two houses on her side of the road.

"Gods above..." she shakes her head, eyes wide with fear as they follow the dragon's path. "How...how are we supposed to do this?"

Rising from the ground on the other side of the road, Olfred scarcely has time to give an encouraging answer--the dragon is already coming back around. "Just keep shooting it and stay ready to dodge! Everyone, I don't care if all you have is a stick, find a way to get in reach!"

Alright, Halvard and Birkita each take

[roll0]

damage from the fire.

Initiative has now begun. The dragon has taken its turn; the order will now proceed as PCs, then NPC allies, then the dragon again. Everyone, do what you're gonna do.

[Comissar]

Standing, Kaitlyn turns to look at the devestation caused by the Dragon's breath. Her heart sank as she saw the speed with which the flame was already spreading. Her gaze drawn to the town hall, she shouted out "We have to get them out of there!"

Not an action, just using 'Talking is a free action' to my advantage here :smalltongue: Will declare action once we have some strategy.

[Redshaw]

Standing, Kaitlyn turns to look at the devestation caused by the Dragon's breath. Her heart sank as she saw the speed with which the flame was already spreading. Her gaze drawn to the town hall, she shouted out "We have to get them out of there!"


Kaitlyn's words tear at Uhtred' heart. Bjorn was in there. Of course, there was nowhere for them to go, not truly. The stone, though scant protection, would be a better shield against the dragon than begging for mercy. An idea boils in Uhtred's brain. A risky, foolish idea, but if it worked, who was to say otherwise.

Wyrd bið ful aræd. Fate may be inexorable, but dragons are not. To expose the dragon, it would be best to draw it in and to do that would cost the blood of many soldiers; the alternative was to allow it to fly and attack as it wished. Uhtred wanted it pinned down. He lifts Knutbane to draw the attention of the men, "Shield-men, form a wall. Bang your shields. Draw its attention!" He gestures toward the roofs of the neighboring houses, "Archers! Get to a high place. Wait for its strike and then fire as a volley on my mark! Aim for the head and the neck. Do not fire before I give the word. We kill it together or we all die together. Your families are counting on you!

He stomps the atgeir's pommel onto the ground, indicating he wants the shield wall formed at his position.

This was a gamble, and a dangerous one at that, but it was better to try and die well than to be bled slowly.

Full defensive action. Take a +4 to AC. Will wait for the dragon to get within 20 feet of the shield wall, then order all archers to fire, if they're ready. Assuming this is an option.

Uhtred bellows upward at the rampaging beast, "I **** on you, whelp of Glaurnir! Your scales are brittle and your wings are measly and your fire could not warm the smallest hall!" Of course the cursing was in impotent rage, but it was important to show men not to be afraid.

[Farmerbink]

Edricht breaks from cover to move to the side, intending to spread the dragon's focus and get more people out of the line of fire (literally). From a new stance, closer to the dragon's flank, he looses another arrow, just as Uhtred starts yelling.


move action to get further away (I forgot to ask before, are we using a map of any sort?)
standard action to shoot again.
[roll0] (counting inspire courage)
[roll1] (25, x3)
[roll2] damage

[Kish]

"Oof." Birkita picks herself up, wiping blood off her face, and looks around. She calls upon her goddess's blessing for the beleaguered defenders.
Casting Bless to affect the largest possible number of defenders.

[bryn0528]

Halvard took a deep breath. This was going to be much worse than they were all expecting. He made his way to the shield wall, holding his wooden shield and literal stick in hand quite pathetically.

The next time the dragon swept down, Halvard exhaled. His breath in the air was visible, though not as a white cloud of condensation like one could expect in winter. The fires of the dragon would have burned away any mist, but the cloud that now passed Halvard's lips was dark and angry. It crackled with thunder and rains. At first content to simply exist, it rushed then forward, to smother the dragon's face with nature's fury.

Activating my Storm Burst domain power.
Ranged Touch Attack: [roll0]. Oh, and +1 from Inspire Courage. Apparently, I'm Durkon (http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0034.html).
Damage (non-lethal): [roll1].

In addition, if the attack hits the target gets a -2 penalty to attack rolls for 1 round.

[Comissar]

Swallowing nervously, Kaitlyn turned her attention back to the assembled warriors. Uhtred was right, of course he was right. They'd do their families no good if they all scattered and left the Town Hall undefended. Raising her sword, she sang loud once more. Without her bow in hand, there was little else she could do. A worried look crossed over her face as she saw Uhtred run off on his own. Her mind made up, she runs after him. Standing by his side, she hurriedly muttered "You don't get to beat me to the next land." before continuing with her next verse, singing defiance at the sky.

[Amaril]

As Uhtred, Halvard, and Kaitlyn form their defensive line, Olfred advances to join them, continuing to bang his axe against the wood of his shield while bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to dive to the side. Meanwhile, Sasha kneels down at her corner and draws another arrow, noticeably forcing her breathing to slow; her hand is quite steady as she takes aim at the approaching dragon. As the group faces the dragon, all are struck by a similar feeling of calm and reassurance to that originally felt with Kaitlyn's song, though only Birkita realizes that Moira has heeded her prayer and granted her blessing.

For the second time, the dragon hurtles towards the line of warriors, fire beginning to glow in its open jaws. Just as the rushing sound builds again, though, Halvard's stormy cloud rushes towards the dragon's head. In a second, it grows to conceal the beast's entire face, and it lets out another deafening roar of fury and annoyance, abruptly pushing back with its wings and slowing its flight. A second later, Edricht and Sasha loose their arrows. They streak through the air and strike home; Sasha's embeds once more in the membrane of its wing, while Edricht's shot looks to reach the beast's throat, where it lacks its bony armor. The roaring grows louder, if that is even possible. Though the arrows are far too small to register as more than splinters to the beast, it's clear the continued pinpricks have aggravated it. Shaking its head through Halvard's cloud and spitting gouts of flame, it clumsily wheels around again and retreats from the warriors...heading straight for Ivar's Hall at the top of the hill.

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn's heart soars as the Dragon pulls away from the group, her song reaching a crescendo to match her elation. Her song faltered as she saw it head directly for the town hall. "NO!!!"

Breaking ranks, she ran toward the hall. She had to warn them. Even as she ran, she was berating herself for leaving her comrades behind, but she couldn't just stand by and watch them go up in flames.

[Kish]

"Where is the filthy thing going?" Birkita mutters just before the answer to her question becomes obvious. Quickly deciding that it's unlikely to come back to fight on the humans' terms, she runs after the dragon, digging out her sling.

[Farmerbink]

That's no good! Edricht thinks to himself. He drops from his cover, and sprints after the beast!

if possible, I would like to charge it. If not, I will get as close as I can, still trying to attack. I can't actually attack from adjacent with the glaive, so I'm aiming for 10 feet away :-P

If you don't mind (and I can), I would like to use the first set of rolls as a short bow shot. (@ +3 instead of +5, and I'll have to roll damage separately)

[roll0] attack (+2 more if charging)
[roll1] CC (crit on nat 20, for x3)
[roll2] damage

if I get to attack and it moves away (triggering an AoO):

[roll3] attack
[roll4] CC (crit on nat 20, for x3)
[roll5] damage Short bows don't threaten D:

[Redshaw]

Abject horror was not an emotion Uhtred was accustomed to. Anger, fear, and confusion were all regulars in the warrior's life, but helpless terror was an unwelcome intruder. It did not settle well with him.

"There was once a clever old woman with a son," said Bjorn. "a son who fought for the king and the king lost. The king was beheaded and her son was banished to a far away land. His mother cried, pleaded and begged to the new king for her son's return. The king agreed to allow her son to return, but only for one harvest. So the old woman went home and sowed a field of pine trees."

Bjorn had taken care to instruct Uhtred that a sharp mind was a warrior's most dangerous weapon. But his mind failed him today, betrayed by his own cleverness and now his mentor, his people, and his home would all pay for it.

Tears fill his eyes as his lungs erupt with their protest. No. Stop. Please stop. "NO! STOP!"

He had been wrong. Gods forgive him, he had been wrong.

Uhtred sprints after the dragon with all the might he can, burning his muscles and stretching his lungs, screaming like a mad man as he charges.

Wyrd bið ful aræd.

[Farmerbink]

Short bow damage (if applicable): [roll0]

[bryn0528]

"Aha!" Halvard cried out, as the dragon recoiled from his stormy breath. "Showed that beast, showed it!" But his voice faltered out as the retreating dragon turned instead upon the hall. "No no no no no no," he said a hundred times, and ran full out after Uthred and the others.

[Amaril]

All of you run as fast as you can, but the dragon is far faster, and still has the advantage of flight. It easily beats you to the top of the hill--you can make out a flurry of movement among the defenders left behind as they see it approach. Those few with bows open fire on it again, but all those Olfred left as the second defensive line are green and unprepared compared to your group, and none of their shots find their mark. Ignoring them, the dragon pulls itself nearly to a halt above the hall, beating its wings to stay aloft. Kicking out with its claws, it attacks the roof of the building, but though it gouges several deep furrows and throws up sparks, the stone thankfully holds fast. With another roar, the dragon pulls back into the air, wheeling around one last time before swooping down to land before the front doors.

The other defenders scatter momentarily as the best crashes down in their midst, hunkering down on its folded wings as well as its hind legs. As you approach closer, you hear the whooshing of its breath building again, but before it can loose another blast, the warriors rush back in and start to attack, beating their weapons against the dragon's armor. None of them seem to inflict any real harm, but the dragon still notices; twisting its head around, it turns its fire on several of them instead. Three more warriors are consumed by the blaze, and it reaches far enough to ignite several nearby houses, adding to the destruction already caused by the still-spreading flames of the first blast. To their immense credit, the rest of the rearguard continue the fight unabated, striking at spot after spot, trying to find a weakness in the dragon's defenses. Yet their courage is for naught; in barely a minute, the dragon has finished off all of them, burning some with more fire and crushing others in the grip of its massive jaws, tossing their bodies into the air and swallowing them whole as they come back down.

By the time you reach the hill, six more of Trondheim's defenders have fallen. Hardly seeming to notice your arrival, the dragon moves to turn around, bringing itself to face the doors again...

[Kish]

Birkita comes to a halt. Glaring at the dragon as it turns its tail toward her, she loads up a sling bullet and fires at the massive beast.
Not quite sure which modifiers apply here. I am guessing that the dragon is Huge and counts as in melee with Medium creatures (-2 penalty, which doesn't apply if the dragon is not in melee or if the dragon is bigger than Huge), that Bless still applies (+1 bonus) but Inspire Courage does not (0).
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Redshaw]

Praise the gods he wasn't too late. If it was the last thing he ever did, in fact, it would preferably be the last thing he ever did, Uhtred would die before the Hall fell. He points at the scaled assaulter, undeterred by the dead and dying clansmen; there was no time for mourning.


Stabbing Knutbane into the ground, its staff left erect next to him, Uhtred draws his shield and saix and begins beating the shieldboss and roaring (https://www.sounddogs.com/sound-effects/2904/mp3/615899_SOUNDDOGS__ma.mp3).

"HEAR ME, YOU SCALED SACK OF MANURE. HEAR ME, YOU GAGGLE-TOOTHED SNAKE. HEAR ME, YOU COWARD. I am Uhtred son of Ragnar, Ivar's heir, Dáin's favored. And you will hear me! I invoke the name of Sarrak the Dragon-Queen! I invoke the name of Glaurnir the Dead!" He slams the shield boss over and over, neverminding the ringing it causes his ears.

He had to get its attention. He had to bring its anger on him. He had to do something.

"HEAR ME!"

By Dáin, by the All-Father, by all that was good, let the dragon hear him. Let it understand him.

[Farmerbink]

As he closes with the dragon, Edricht appears to lose focus. His eyes alight with some bestial fury, and he drops his bow, and charges the beast- drawing his glaive mid-way.


HP: 11/11
AC: 18 (-2 for charging)
Saves: Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +2

Glaive charge power attack:
[roll0] vs AC
[roll1] critical confirmation, nat 20, x3
[roll2] damage

[Comissar]

As she draws closer to the Dragon again, Kaitlyn finds herself dearly wishing she had her bow with her. So long as the great beast remained airborne, there was nothing that she could do to harm it, much less drive it away. It's landing was a mixed blessing. Now at least she could face it on more equal terms, but it came at the cost of many good men's lives. She felt a dull pang of horror, the emotion muted by the shock of the situation. They would be remembered, she would be sure of that.

A mixture of anger and hate contorted her face, with a wordless cry she rushed the great beast. Lashing out at it with her sword, Kaitlyn desperately tried to drive it back like the imaginary foes of her youth.

Kaitlyn's charging the Dragon with her Short Sword.

Attack Roll - [roll0]
Damage Roll - [roll1]

Crit Confirm (if needed) - [roll2]
Crit Damage (if needed) - [roll3]

[bryn0528]

Nearly breathless, Halvard arrived at the beast with his friends. "Leave oh scale-mother!" he cried out between gasps. At this point, the effort seemed futile, but perhaps of anyone here, he could best simply convince the creature to leave. "Your whelps are safe from the hands of man! We do not intend you harm beyond simply urging your quick departure. These forests teem with animals that you can hunt with more glory than the walls of man. I beg of you, Sarraksdottir!"

Barring that invocation, Halvard keeps a tight grasp on his club and wooden shield, which seem sillier by the second.

Activating my Wild Empathy ability (which probably won't work). If the dragon is a magical beast with an Int score of 1 or 2, then I get an additional -4 to the check. If it has a higher intelligence than that... I think it just doesn't work at all. Otherwise it functions as a diplomacy check.

[roll0] (+1 druid level, -1 Charisma).

[Amaril]

At the sound of Uhtred's challenge and Halvard's plea, the dragon stops turning for the barest of seconds, its slitted eyes swiveling to regard the source of the noise. At the same moment, it notices Kaitlyn rushing forward with Edricht barely a step behind her, while Birkita's sling stone flies straight and true towards it. All three attacks directed against the beast bounce off its scaly armor, just as the others have, but they do attract its attention. With agility as surprising on the ground as in the air, it turns back around to face the new arrivals, a hissing growl filling the air around it.

A second after Kaitlyn and Edricht close with the creature, Olfred joins them, dodging past its snapping jaws and swinging his axe. Though the dragon twists its shoulders and deflects the attack like the others, it's clear what he was hoping to accomplish. As he withdraws, axe still whirling about his head, he calls out to everyone "strike at its neck! Its armor is weak there!"

The next instant, the dragon's tail whips around and slams into his chest. With an audible crunch, he is knocked back through the air, landing back nearer to Uhtred and Halvard in a heap. While he makes to stand, the creature's jaws rush toward Kaitlyn, and though she narrowly manages to avoid being caught in its teeth, one long fang does score a deep cut from her left shoulder down along her upper arm. As Kaitlyn makes this dodge, Birkita senses that the end of Moira's earlier favor has been reached--had the blessing not been received, Kaitlyn would surely be dead.

Kaitlyn, take 7 damage. That was a nasty attack, sorry :smalleek:

Unfortunately, Birkita's bless ends after this round, since it took you ten rounds, a full minute, to run back up to Ivar's Hall. Kaitlyn's song is likewise no longer in effect until she starts it up again.

[Kish]

Birkita narrows her eyes. Even as she moves to take cover from the dragon's breath, she calls on her goddess to bless her aim.
Trying to move to somewhere likely to be out of the dragon's breath radius and preferably where it will be easy to duck behind cover, and casting True Strike.

[Comissar]

Agony lanced through Kaitlyn's arm, the sheer pain of it almost enough to send her into shock. She desperately tried to hold back the hurt, backing away from the scaled beast as much as she could manage. Kaitlyn became aware of a warmth all along her arm as she retreated. Touching her right hand to her left, she felt it come away sticky and wet, her palm a deep red. Glancing away from her own injury, she felt a great sense of fear settling over her. They stood no chance against a creature such as this. All they could do was buy time with their own lives.

Kaitlyn is going to make a withdraw maneuver to back away from the Dragon as much as possible.

[Redshaw]

Falling to his knees as his uncle's body falls before him, Uhtred's saix slips from his hands. Callused finger tips brush across the Barkason's body up to his bloodied face and he lowers his head to kiss the old man's forehead. The tragedy of the nightmare rattles Uhtred's very core. He only looks up in time to see Kaitlyn's injury; her cry and her blood.

And then all Uhtred can see is red.

How dare this fiend enter his home and slaughter his people. Damn the beast. Damn the gods. Damn all. He drops his shield and takes up the still-standing Knutbane with both hands. With war cry filled with both rage and sadness, Uhtred drives forward intent to slight the throat of the beast ear-to-ear and consume its black heart.

Attack: [roll0] Charging action, power attack. Reduces my AC to 13 for the subsequent round.

Damage: [roll1]

[Farmerbink]

Edricht watches the battlefield with a dispassionate stare. Absorbed in the flow of battle, his emotions can be confronted some other time.



If possible, 5-foot step to flank the dragon w/ Uhtred

[roll1] glaive power attack
[roll0] CC (27, x3)
[roll2] damage

[bryn0528]

Halvard saw the blood on Kaitlyn, and immediately ran to her side. "Quit squirming!" he urged, trying to grab her by the arm so that he could see better. He tore of a strip of dirty fabric and tied it around her arm to stem the bleeding for the moment. Later would come proper healing, but for now... "Kaitlyn, listen! If you care about that boy at all, you'll help me get him out of here before he gets himself killed!"

Taking a withdraw action to follow Kaitlyn, and if I can, get in some first aid... not that it'll do anything, so no roll?

[Amaril]

Glancing around the hilltop, Birkita quickly spots a low stone foundation that has survived the dragon's repeated blasts of fire. As she dashes over and dives behind it, she feels Moira once again respond to her call and grant her favor, ensuring her next attack will strike true. From her protected position, she is alerted by the sound of Olfred's colorful cursing to Sasha dragging him along the ground and back behind another foundation; he is alive and conscious, but apparently unable to stand.

Edricht continues to hold the dragon's attention while Halvard pulls Kaitlyn away, though his attacks still fail to penetrate its hide. He does, however, provide a valuable distraction for Uhtred. Charging in when the dragon has extended itself, he throws his weight into a powerful thrust with his atgeir and strikes true, burying the long blade in the dragon's neck and slicing deeply as he yanks the weapon back. Stumbling back, the beast lets out a roar that sounds mixed with pained wheezing; as fire flashes in its jaws, more tongues escape from the wound, along with copious amounts of blood so dark it's almost black. Lowering its head again, the dragon tries to loose another blast of fire towards Uhtred, but cannot come up with more than a few small gouts. Eyes narrowing in anger, it resorts to snapping weakly at Uhtred, at the same time lashing out to buffet Edricht with its wing. Though Uhtred manages to escape its teeth, it whips its head to the side just as he regains his footing, striking a rattling impact. Edricht, meanwhile, is caught by the hooked claw that extends from the front of the folded wing almost like a thumb, sparking off his armor and hitting him with significant force.

Wow, that was one hell of a lucky hit by Uhtred. Nice job.

Uhtred, take 2 damage, Edricht 3.

[Farmerbink]

Edricht grunts, recoiling from the glancing claw strike. What, is that your best, fiend? What a pitiful excuse for a dragon, YOU are! Sarrak must be pleased, indeed! He struggles to regain a firm footing, as he taunts the dragon. Finally he braces himself against a dry spot of earth and, with a near-beastial roar, Edricht strikes out at the dragon once more!


[roll0] glaive NON-power attack
[roll1] (27, x3)
[roll]1d10+6[/roll damage

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn turned to look at Halvard as he approached. It took her a moment to realise that the reason he was blurred was due to her tears of pain. She flinched away from his touch at first, trying to avoid putting any pressure on the wound. She saw the sense of it, however and, teeth gritted, allowed him to bind her arm.

Following Halvard's urgings, Kaitlyn turned her attention back to Uhtred. Her heart leapt when she saw him land his blow on the dragon, but fell almost as quickly as he took a blow from the beast's head. Not knowing what else to do, she began another war song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0k01zY822dk). The song was raw, some of the notes faltering as she tried to ignore the throbbing in her arm.

Starting up another Inspire Courage

[bryn0528]

"Good lass, good," Halvard said, mostly to himself. He threw down his club and shield, finally finding them too silly and cumbersome.... it would be easier for this without them in the way. He walked back away from Kaitlyn and towards the dragon; in his hands he brandished the little wooden fetish he made. He raised his hands to the sky. "Vidur! Storm-father..." and lowered his hands again, but his words were blurred with the roaring storm that exited his mouth, the same as before, with every prayer that it will be just as effective now.

Activating my Stormburst power again.

Ranged Touch Attack: [roll0]. (Hey, I remembered the bonus from Inspire Courage this time.)
Damage (non-lethal): [roll1]. (Although... do I get the bonus on damage too? I can't ever remember...)

As before, if it hits, the dragon will take a -2 penalty to all attack rolls for 1 round.

[Kish]

Birkita leans around the foundation to take careful aim at the monster's throat with her sling.

Attack, assuming -2 penalty for Huge creature in melee with Medium creatures: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Redshaw]

The battlelust was upon Uhtred. Knutbane was singing and the gods of slaughter were cheering his name. There was no pain, there was no fear, there was nothing but the warmth of his prey's black blood spraying across his face. The dragon was slow and he was fast; he was an Ivarson, but he knew would be greater than Ivar.

He bellows as he kills. Kaitylin's dirge does not pierce his bloodlust nearly so much as it inflates him.

It was sheer joy. It was pure horror.


[roll0] Power attack + Kaitlyn's song.

[roll1]

[Amaril]

As Uhtred's atgeir slices through the air and Halvard's storm cloud envelops the dragon's head again, it hisses in fury and weaves around to avoid both the attacks. Because of this, while Birkita had aimed her sling-stone at the creature's throat, it finds another target instead--as the dragon jerks its head downward, attempting to bite at Uhtred's legs, it moves its open eye directly into the stone's path.

Though it is choked with pain and labored breathing, the dragon's next roar still eclipses all the others. Trailing off into a shriek that almost sounds like a whimper, its resolve finally shatters; pulling back away from Uhtred's blade, it lifts up onto its hind legs and raises its wings, then catapults off into the air as it lowers them again. Overhead, it turns in a wide arc--favoring the wing on its uninjured side visibly--and soars over the hall, the sounds of its wingbeats and pained cries receding with speed nearly as great as when it first approached the village. Within moments, it has disappeared entirely.

After what seems like a long while, Sasha peeks out from behind her cover. "Did...did we...win?"

A second later, though, her hopefulness evaporates, as she takes in the same view you all see. Though Ivar's Hall may still stand, most of the rest of the central village has been reduced to a smoldering ruin by the dragon's repeated blasts. No wood or thatch structures remain nearby, except for a few smoking embers; further down the hill, the fire continues to spread with almost unnatural speed, swiftly eating away what little is left. Sasha pulls a pained grimace. "Oh...that's not good, is it?"

"What? What is it, woman? Help me stand up, damn you!" you hear Olfred yell, his voice sounding strained and weak. Quickly ducking back behind the foundation, Sasha emerges again with Olfred in tow. His eyes narrow as he surveys the devastation. "Blood and tears" he curses. "Whatever you all did to that thing, it wasn't painful enough."

He glances up at the hall. "Well, we should let the others know it's safe...someone help me, I can't move the door."

[bryn0528]

Halvard laughed. It started as an innocent chuckle, just barely a tickle in his throat, but as the fire consumed the village, so too did a harsh, braying laughter consume Halvard. He shook with a mad pleasure and fell to his knees and then on his back. He looked up at the sky above. “We did it,” he said between labored breaths. He rolled his head to the side and his view from a clear morning sky shifted to the charred and torn remains of the fallen. He laughed until tears began to fall from his eyes. “We did it, Hannah. We did it, didn‘t we? At what cost, my little Han, we didn’t do anything at all Han.”

[Comissar]

As the dragon turned and fled, Kaitlyn fell to her knees. She clutched at her arm tightly, tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked up to a bleary vision of destruction. So much of her home was gone. But... They'd stopped it. Halvard's laughter matched the bittersweet sensation she felt. They'd done all they could but they'd still lost so much. Her head bowed again, her tears of pain mingling with ones of anger. They just hadn't done enough.

[Redshaw]

Uhtred stares upward at the dragon's departure with awe, joy and frustration. He survived. His people survived. And yet, somehow, he was disappointed. He would not kill the dragon this day: he would not eclipse Ivar's memory. Not today, at least. It was a purely selfish, awful, and petty thought, but Uhtred felt it all the same.

Adrenaline still pumped through his veins. His senses were still heightened; he saw more clearly, his muscles were stronger, his reflexes were faster, everything felt electric. But with time, the warm, black blood covering his face has begun to cool and so has his own, still-pumping blood. He shuts his eyes and attempts to clear his mind, fully processing what occurred; it was good nobody approached him at this time, for he was as like to attack another human as he was a dragon in this state. He takes a moment to retake his control.

He turns to see Olfred and relief floods his heart. He was certain the old man was dead. His eyes slant in Kaitlyn's direction; it takes every ounce of his substantial willpower to not attend to her. To hold her and mend her and cry with her; so many were dead. But then again, so many had been saved. And it was the latter of those two that would need help now.

He winces as he suddenly remembers he was wounded; he'd barely noticed in the heat of the battle. He sighs in relief as he realizes it to be little more than a scratch. So many more had suffered much worse.

Cradling his injury, covered from head to toe in pitch black blood, clouds of steam venting off his body as his sweat evaporates into the air, Uhtred uses both his massive arms to push open the doors to the hall of his great grandfather.

[Kish]

Birkita hurries forward as Uhtred opens the door. She calls, "Who's injured? If you're--" Her voice stumbles, then steadies, "If you're injured and can come to me, do."

Then we can deal with...what's happened to the village.

[Farmerbink]

Edricht starts towards his bow, before realizing that the dragon had flown away. We... We are alive! Joy floods across his features, and he turns back to face his home. The shocking sight before him turns his expression into a macabre farce of a smile before finally wilting into numb acceptance. Sheathing his glaive, he runs to the nearest downed townsperson, eager to do what he can to aid those still living.


Birkita hurries forward as Uhtred opens the door. She calls, "Who's injured? If you're--" Her voice stumbles, then steadies, "If you're injured and can come to me, do."

Hearing Birkita's call, Edricht takes it upon himself to help any who cannot come to her. For several minutes, he frantically runs between the injured, assisting those who cannot move on their own to come to Birkita for healing, and where it isn't possible, helping to bind and splint injuries.

[roll0] to provide first aid

[Amaril]

Edricht searches around for injured townsfolk, but finds none nearby--apparently everyone who lived in the houses immediately next to the hall was inside for the festivities.

If you want to widen your search to the rest of the inner village, go ahead--just let me know either IC or OOC.

As Uhtred pushes open the doors of the hall, Lars immediately steps forward to face him, Bjorn leaning on his walking staff close behind. Most of the rest of the townsfolk are huddled nearer the far end of the room; many children and even a few adults come out from under the long tables as they hear the doors.

The priest bears an expression of great concern behind his thick, dark beard. "What's happened? Has it gone? Is the village safe?" Then, like the others, his jaw drops as he sees the smoke rising behind Uhtred. "Merciful Dáin..."

Bjorn approaches ponderously, leaning heavily on his staff. "Well, if we're alive, this turned out better than it could have" he says grimly. "How many did we lose?"

[Kish]

Birkita prays to Moira to heal everyone here. She waits to make sure those immediately present are healed before going in search of more injured, and death counts.
She'll try to get everyone who's taken any damage but is still alive in the radius before she channels energy, twice unless everyone is fully healed by her first time, three times if anyone she can see is still hurt. Healing use, including herself in the effect.
[roll0]
If (almost certainly) needed: [roll1]
If (hopefully not) needed: [roll2]

[Farmerbink]

Bjorn approaches ponderously, leaning heavily on his staff. "Well, if we're alive, this turned out better than it could have" he says grimly. "How many did we lose?"

As Edricht frantically tries to see to the wounded, he responds gruffly to the man. I do not know. At least 6, that I saw. I hope to find them still living, perhaps some of their injuries were less grave than they first appeared. The village is possibly ruined; this winter will be harsh, indeed.

[Kish]

"I doubt any of us will survive if that beast heals up and comes back to finish what it started," Birkita says grimly.

[bryn0528]

Halvard came to his senses, or at least a sense. He jumped to his feet and quickly gathered his things. "Uthred!" he called out, and sought the boy's side for counsel. "She hoards, she hoards. For the little moons she plucked from the sky, the little moons like fat pearls. She hoards." He fumbled with his hands. "We can end it before it began, can end it. Which came first, the chick or the egg? If we find the moon we can take it and then the dragon won't have come and they'll still be alive. Han and Adíl and Olfted and Kaitlyn..."

[Amaril]

As Edricht pronounces the death count, Lars makes a gesture of warding, eyebrows raising even higher. "More than six..."

Bjorn comes up behind the priest, resting a huge hand on the shorter man's shoulder. "They died defending Trondheim, Lars. None of us can hope for more."

Lars seems to make an effort at composing himself, regaining more of the sagely demeanour he typically maintains. "Indeed, of course. They feast now in the hall of the All-father, drinking the good mead, with angels to tend to their every want." He steps over the threshold, surveying the wreckage. "Still...a high price to pay. We should be thankful, Edricht, to have nearly the whole year remaining before next winter. We may need all that time."

Gradually, the townsfolk have begun to come nearer the door, many joining the group outside on the hilltop. Excited chatter mixes swiftly with cries of alarm and worry as they see the extent of the damage. Overhearing Halvard's calls, Anais leaves the still-frightened Freya's side and limps over to the group. "We all appreciate your enthusiasm, Halvard, but I for one would caution against acting rashly. You have won one victory already, and that only nearly--I think it would be best for all of us to turn our minds to the problem of what to do about the state of the village."

"To the Void with that, crone" Olfred wheezes, drawing an embarrassed wince from Sasha. "This crazy hermit has the right of it. Let me send some of my men to follow the beast now. We need to end this before it recovers."

"Please, all of you, do not--" Bjorn's interjection breaks down into a fit of coughing, and he nearly doubles over, clutching at his staff to stay standing. "S-sorry...the smoke..." Catching his breath, he turns back to the group. "I agree with Anais--our first concern right now must be the safety of the villagers. Olfred, your men have suffered enough for one day, and, if you'll pardon my saying so, I doubt you're in any shape to track the beast on your own. Besides, I doubt the dragon will recover from it's injuries in the span of a day--I think we can afford that much time to consider. Edricht should be able to find signs of the lair of something so huge, if we do decide to send anyone." For a moment, Olfred looks ready to protest the idea of trusting Edricht with the matter, but apparently decides to hold his tongue.

As the elders debate, all the injured feel their pains lessen as Birkita invokes her goddess. Even Kaitlyn finds the flow of blood from her wound miraculously slowing.

You can get everyone in the radius of all three channels. All injured, edit your totals appropriately.

I should warn you, though, that you can't automatically tell when people are at full HP without examining them or at least asking about their condition. You've expended all those three uses of your channel. It actually was necessary this time, but be aware for future reference.

Hurrying to search the rest of the central village, Edricht does come upon a few families fighting fires, apparently having chosen to stay home after finishing their feast day prayers (or having neglected said prayers in the first place). Only a few people are injured, and not seriously; Edricht does what he can for them, and most either join in damage control or head off to find Anais.

Back at the hall, the discussion is interrupted by a sudden commotion as Gregor, the smith, forces his way through the crowd. "Sigurd! My son...where is he? He's alright, isn't he? Have you seen him come back?"

[Farmerbink]

" Edricht should be able to find signs of the lair of something so huge, if we do decide to send anyone." For a moment, Olfred looks ready to protest the idea of trusting Edricht with the matter, but apparently decides to hold his tongue.

Edricht looks up at the sound of his name. As he recognizes the implication (and implicit acceptance of it), shock floods his features. I... His mouth works for a moment before words find him again. Yes. Absolutely, I can find the lair of this beast. I will... I will gladly guide such a crusade. He returns to the task of helping the survivors for the moment, even more eagerly than before, and returns to the hall just in time to see:



Gregor, the smith, forces his way through the crowd. "Sigurd! My son...where is he? He's alright, isn't he? Have you seen him come back?"

He approaches the man, chin held high. Gently, he places a hand on the smith's shoulder. Sigurd dines with the All-father, now. He gave his life saving the healers from the flame. He fought valiantly, worthy to bear your name with honor.

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn gasped at the strange numbing sensation in her arm. After the pain of the bite wound, the sudden cessation of feeling almost felt as bad. At least it allowed her to think more clearly. She stood, looking around herself once again at the scene of devastation before her. She took a couple of faltering steps toward the town hall. People within had survived. Thank the gods that they'd survived. She couldn't see Brynn, though. He must still be inside...

Speeding up to a jog, she pushed into the crowd, calling out "Brynn? Brynn!"

[Redshaw]

Uhtred keeps quiet countenance as he listens to the village elders. It was an impossible situation. They couldn't leave Trondheim. This was their home, most were born here and most had never left.

He pauses as his cousin speaks and then curses himself for not being the first to volunteer. Of course that was the clear course.

He quickly steps forward to boast in a loud voice so that all nearby may hear, "If Edricht will guide me to the Worm, then I shall rip its heart out with my own hands."

Even as he speaks, Uhtred feels his mouth go dry at the prospect. This was foolhardy, to say the least. Kaitlyn was going to be upset with him for volunteering.

[Farmerbink]

"If Edricht will guide me to the Worm, then I shall rip its heart out with my own hands."

Edricht looks his cousin in the eyes. He pauses for a moment, as if trying to see something written in their depths, but no. Something changes in Edricht's expression- just the hint of a steeling of his posture. He nods. I will be glad to see that, Uhtred, and gladder still to help it happen, he says.

Looking over his cousin's shoulder, his gaze lingers briefly on Kaitlyn and he grins widely, for the first time in many moons. He raises his voice, a clarion to those surrounding them: Surely, Kaitlyn would not let you go without her!

[Comissar]

Though Kaitlyn hadn't been paying attention to the talk of tracking the Dragon down, she turned at the shouted mention of her name. Confusion crept over her face as she replayed the last few seconds of the conversation. Brynn temporarily forgotten, she looked over to Uhtred.

"Edricht," Her tone was wary, matching the worry that had settled in her chest, "What are you talking about?"

[Kish]

Birkita hurries to stand next to Uhtred and clears her throat when Kaitlyn speaks. "If the people who are going will get to see Uhtred rip the heart out of a dragon with his bare hands, I wouldn't miss it," she says dryly.

[bryn0528]

Halvard looked to his left to catch a fleeting glimpse of Birkita. No one invited you, he thought to himself, followed by; Oh my, that was rude. I hope I didn't actually say that outloud. As much as Uthred hates the lass, she'd be good to have around. For those standing close enough to Halvard, they could hear him mumbling something about chickens under his breath.

[Amaril]

Gregor freezes at Edricht's words, looking as stunned as a man struck in the face with a shovel. "He...he's...oh gods..." He sways unsteadily, as though he might fall, but Lars moves swiftly to his side, reaching out a steadying hand. "Gregor, I know this is hard, but it is not as sad as it seems. Come, let me tell you of the great heavenly armies of the gods, and the glory Sigurd will find fighting amongst them..." Guiding the smith gently, he begins leading him away from the group, glancing over his shoulder apologetically at the other elders; Anais gives him an understanding nod as he leaves.

As the clamor for a party to pursue the dragon begins, Bjorn swiftly raises his hand for silence. "We are talking, Kaitlyn, about the idea of sending people to follow the dragon and end it while it's injured--which, let me remind everyone, is not yet decided. Before we do anything else, I think we should focus on saving what we can of the inner village. There must be at least a few houses the flames haven't yet taken."

"True enough" agrees Anais. "After that, we will need to find those who have lost their homes new shelter. We can house some in the Hall, but not the whole village."

"We could see about moving some people to the farms" Sasha puts forth, seeming a little nervous speaking out of turn before the elders. "I don't think the dragon flew around the whole village burning down all of them, so there must still be plenty standing."

"Yes, that seems wise" Bjorn gives Sasha a nod of assent. "Alright, let's get to it. Uhtred, Edricht, Birkita, Halvard, I understand your desire to have this done with soon, but I think we will have to hold off on sending you out for the moment, at least. Any injuries you put on the dragon will take time to heal, and we have concerns that need dealing with immediately that your help would make easier. Can we count on you to help put out the fires?"

As Kaitlyn continues to search the crowd for Brynn, you finally spot him making his way toward you through the group. "Kait! Kait, I'm here!" he waves as soon as you look his way. Wending his way through the assembly to your side, he pulls you into an embrace as soon as he gets within reach. "Gods be praised, I was worried..." Noticing your injury, he abruptly lets go. "Oh, sorry, I didn't see you were hurt! Are you alright? Terrors, that doesn't look pleasant..."

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn's protest died in her throat as Bjorn pre-empted her. It seemed she would at least have time to talk Uhtred out of this foolishness. Her heart remained heavy, however. Talk of moving everyone out of the village served to remind her of just how much damage the lone beast had managed to cause. They were right that they needed to get people to safety, though. She could keep her mind off things by doing that at least.

She glanced helplessly back at the group, "I'll help as soon as my brother is safe, I promise."

She quickly dived back into the crowd, hunting for Brynn. Relief flooded through her when she heard his voice. It took her a few more moments to work out just where he was. Hugging him tightly, Kaitlyn briefly winced in anticipation of pain when her arm was squeezed. Birkita's magic had done good work, however, and she felt no discomfort from the embrace. She almost laughed as Brynn reacted in the same way, "No, I'm ok. Really. We need to get you out of here, though. The Dragon is gone but the fire's are still spreading."

She looked up at the gathered crowd, her resolve steeling. Still holding Brynn with one arm, she shouted out "Everyone! Listen to me! The beast has been driven off, but we need to get you out of here!"

Doing her best to lead them, Kaitlyn made her way out beyond the area the Dragon struck.

[Farmerbink]

"Gregor, I know this is hard, but it is not as sad as it seems. Come, let me tell you of the great heavenly armies of the gods, and the glory Sigurd will find fighting amongst them..." Guiding the smith gently, he begins leading him away from the group, glancing over his shoulder apologetically at the other elders; Edricht winces, as his words appear to have their expected effect. He had hoped that his relation to the smith might have eased their hearing, but it seemed otherwise.


"Alright, let's get to it. Uhtred, Edricht, Birkita, Halvard, I understand your desire to have this done with soon, but I think we will have to hold off on sending you out for the moment, at least. Any injuries you put on the dragon will take time to heal, and we have concerns that need dealing with immediately that your help would make easier. Can we count on you to help put out the fires?"

Edricht nods, somberly. Of course. I will coordinate the bucket-runners. He promptly turns and runs down the hill towards the fires and smoldering buildings. Lads! Lasses! All below the age of 14 and able to walk, harken to me! Bring buckets and pots, and gather at the stream! He corrals the children and young adults to the stream and back, coordinating with the efforts of those trying to get the blazes under control.

[Kish]

"Of course. I can help the injured, my goddess's favor is still with me--it would be good if we could gather them together first, though. Do you know if there's anyone who's too hurt to be moved?" Birkita asks Bjorn anxiously. "Anyone who's...still alive, that is."

[Redshaw]

Uhtred is quick on the uptake. Of course, priorities. A good leader tended his people, not the enemy.

He winces as his mentor hails Kaitlyn; she wouldn't want to go. She would beg him not to, and he would refuse her. Another fight.

But there was plenty of time for that later. He takes up Knutbane and holds it aloft, gaining as much attention from the people in the hall as he can, "Men and boys follow me. Gather your hooks and ladders. We must pull off the thatching of the homes that yet remian. Save our village as best we can. The dragon has been defeated, but our home is still in danger!"

He leads those that will follow down to the collection of smoldering houses to pull off the roofs that spread fire.

[Amaril]

Under the direction of the elders and the remaining warriors, the villagers of Trondheim set to work salvaging what remains of the town. Scrambling through the ruined houses, firefighters find buckets and run to fill them in the river; within minutes, an efficient bucket chain has been established. Already dying down on their own, the remaining fires quickly succumb to the assault. Next, the workers turn to finding intact supplies. While much has been lost in the attack, searching still turns up enough blankets to make a prolonged stay in Ivar's Hall a much warmer and more comfortable prospect. As the work continues, the crowd of contributors swells with farmers and fishermen coming in from the homesteads outside the central village. The elders move amongst them, looking for homeowners willing to take in the rest of the displaced. The injured gather around the hall, most recovering swiftly under Anais, Lars, and Birkita's joint ministrations. As you busy yourselves with your chosen tasks, you have ample opportunity to satisfy whatever concerns you may have for the safety of loved ones--apparently, the only casualties were the nine warriors who fell to the dragon and two other villagers trapped in burning homes, neither familiar to you by more than vague impression, who were lost before any rescuers had a chance to arrive. Finally, with the sun well below the horizon and dusk upon the land, Eirik and Olfred call a halt to the work, assuring everyone that nothing remains to be done. With relief, fear, excitement, and worry steering conversations in equal measure, the villagers head for their assigned resting places and bed down for the night.

Alright, the first day of your adventure is officially over!

Congratulations! Your courage and skill in facing the dragon, and your excellent commitment to interesting roleplaying, have earned you all enough experience to reach 2nd level!

Take the benefits of a full night of rest as well, including hit points regained and new spells memorized.
-----

Early the next morning, each of you is approached by one of the village youths with a message from the elders. Word of your performance yesterday has spread faster than the dragon's own flames, and the children all look at you with mixed amazement and fear as they tell you that Lars, Bjorn, Anais, Eirik, and Lotti have requested to speak to you at Lars' homestead, just beside the temple on the bank of the river. Whether you have visited personally before or not, you know the way there, at least.

[Comissar]

The night was chaotic, a tough reminder of how much more effort it took to undo the destruction of a moment. By the end of it Kaitlyn's skin was blackened by the soot of fires quenched and she'd sustained dozens of tiny nicks and cuts from splintered wood. Her work seemed to take her all over the village, and all she could think about was just how lucky they'd all been. This level of destruction and only eleven dead.

Eleven who will never see the light of day again...

She paused in her work, pensively staring at empty space. The thought seemed unreal. Perhaps it was simply too much to be handled, especially at this point in the night. Hefting the broken beam in her hands to one side of the road, she looked around her. It didn't look like there was much else to do here. A couple of the other volunteer's were also beginning to look around aimlessly.

I ought to go and find him.

Kaitlyn sat heavily on one side of the path. The inevitable argument with Uhtred could wait just a couple more minutes. She rubbed her eyes one handed, head bowed with fatigue. She hoped against hope that he'd listen to her. He was stubborn, but with luck she could make him see sense.

"Ok..."

She pushed herself to her feet, exhaling slowly as she did so. Knowing Uhtred, he'd be doing all he could to help for as long as he could. Kaitlyn started to walk toward the closest source of light she could see. If he wasn't there, then it would at least serve as a starting point.

Kaitlyn found Uhtred without too much difficulty. She could see he was busy and so simply stood and waited for him to finish. The night didn't appear to have been any kinder to him than it had been to her, but at the very least they could look at one another and think that.

When Uhtred had finished his task, Kaitlyn walked over to him and softly asked, "Uhtred, was Edricht telling the truth?" Her tone was pleading, she hoped that he would tell her his cousin was lying, "Are you really planning to chase after that monster?"

_____________________________

Kaitlyn awoke to the smell of burned wood and smoke. The acrid smell caused her nose to wrinkle. It took her a few moments to throw off the disorientation of drowsiness and remember the events of the night before. Her heart sunk again. Lying back in her bed, she covered her eyes with one of her arms. With a sigh, she pushed herself to get up. There were people out there who would need her help, she would do them no favours by wallowing in self-pity in her room.

As she got dressed, she made sure to grab her bow and quiver. After the events of the previous night, she was going to be sure that she wouldn't be caught wanting again. Her plans for breakfast were interrupted by a knocking at the door. Puzzled, she opened it to find one of the village's children staring up at her.

"Miss Kaitlyn, the Elder's want to see you at Lar's place."

She raised an eyebrow in surprise, "They sent you over just now?" The boy nodded vigorously, "Ok, I'll be there in a moment."

She was about to reach back inside to grab the rest of her gear when she became aware that the boy was still staring at her. Specifically, he was staring at her left arm. Feeling confused, she asked "Was there something else?"

"Is it true you got bit by a Dragon?"

The boy's voice was full of wonder, as though he couldn't imagine anything more amazing. Kaitlyn winced at the still raw memory, simply nodding in answer.

"Wow! I got bit once, but I bet yours hurt way more!"

Not too sure what to say, Kaitlyn just nodded again in answer. "I... Just need to grab a couple of things, then I'll go down to Lars' house."

The boy nodded enthusiastically again before running off. Whether back to his parents or onto another errand she had no idea. Either way, it didn't matter. Making sure the house was secure, she set off to meet with the Elder's.

[Farmerbink]

Edricht worked well into the evening, helping to carry buckets when the youngster's strength failed them. At last, it seemed all the fires were quenched. Well, at least all the physical fires. Uhtred may not always have been the best friend to Edricht, but he knew his cousin well enough to know that statements once said could not be denied. There was a fire raging in Uhtred, and it had spread with prodigious speed. As he rinsed his hands and arms of soot and ash in the frigid water of the nearby stream, he gazed into the pebbles by the streambed. He pressed one hand deep into the saturated, loamy ground, and pulled it out. Tracing its impression with a finger, he stared deeper into the waters. How do you track a creature with wings?!? he thought to himself, as the water tumbled past. Suddenly overcome with rage at his own inadequacy, he strikes the surface of the water, before rising.

As he wanders near the village, he gazes into the sky. He peers intently at the trees nearby, the deep grooves where the dragon's legs gouged the walls of their village. His eyes reflected the smoldering hatred burning inside him.There must be a way. Even dragons must land from time to time. That beast will pay for what it has done to my home. As he carefully looked around the village, the evening light settled into a gloomy dusk. Haze filled the air, as the moon began to rise. The peak of the crescent cheered his heart, just a little. The huntress would guide his steps, he knew it. At last he mastered his temper and wandered towards home. Quietly, he snuck to the corner of the building where his bedroll was placed. Long into the night, his eyes stared unseeing into the ceiling.

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

dricht rose early, as was his habit. Before the sun broke the horizon, he had killed and cleaned two young hares- they would make a delicious stew for lunch. As he walked back home from the stream, sawn broke on the horizon, crisp and clear. A new day. A fresh day. Much would have to be done, to begin to heal the wounds left by yesterday's attack.

One of the youngsters ran past him in the road before stopping and turning to face him. You're wanted at Lar's hut. Elders said so, the boy said simply, before dashing away on another errand. Are they serious? We hunt the beast today? he thought, as he rushed inside. Sparing time for a smile at his mother, should be delicious after they boil, he deposited the carcasses by the embers of yesterday's cookfire.

Before leaving, he took a moment to bind himself in the scale so many of the others envied him for and retrieve his glaive and bow from where they hung on the wall. I need a bigger bow. I have outgrown this. He mumbles as he heads out the door, thinking back to when he won that bow, some years hence. Well, I mustn't keep them waiting. He heads to Lar's home, to await the word of the elders.

[Kish]

Birkita worked hard on repairs with the other villagers. Out of sensitivity to those who lost a loved one, she hides how relieved she is that the casualty numbers are as low as they are.

That night, Amara asks her excitedly, "Is it true you're going to kill a dragon?"

"I--what exactly did you hear?" she stalls a little.

"We heard that you were part of driving the dragon off, and that you were talking about going after it right afterward," the girls' mother tells Birkita.

"Well, someone has to. Whatever motivated it to attack us, it's unlikely to be more positively inclined to us now...do you know if dragons think?"

Both her parents shake their heads. "Either way, I always knew you'd be a great hero, but I was thinking you'd start a little smaller," her father says.

Stressed from the events of the day and the prospect of future events, Birkita has trouble getting to sleep that night. The next morning, she receives the news of her summons to Lars' home with mingled excitement and trepidation. "If you leave the village...make sure you say goodbye to Der first," Serilda, her youngest sister, tells her. Feigning obliviousness to the glances her parents trade at that, Birkita tells Serilda, "I will." Then she hurries out to meet with the elders.

[Redshaw]

Uhtred gets no sleep that night.

Until the very last ember is choked, the young man is overseeing that thatching is safely removed from roofs and stamped out, the water bucket line volunteers are frequently changed out - especially the young and the old - so that none succumb to exhaustion. He sees that bread is brought from the emergency stores to feed the hungry and an animal is sacrificed forthe All-Father and Sigarda, the protector, for aiding in the defense of their home. He also oversees the tending of the nine heroes, who are given proper ceremony as befitting as a village as poorly as theirs can for those who ought be treated as though they were the sons of Albrecht Stern-gaze himself.

Despite the calamity, Uhtred maintains a brave face through the night, taking moments to tickle morose children and embrace his elders as often as occasion allows. He even manages to find a moment to break bread with Bjorn, who at one point forces him to rest for a few moments - Uhtred initially refuses the old man's demand, but the skald proves he still holds power over the eager soldier with a barking command that bids him sit. Still, he's not to be distracted for long and before he can properly finish his loaf, he's back to the labor of putting back the pieces.

As the embers die and a dull glow of light turns the land a sad blue, Uhtred begins to realize there is little left for him to oversee. And with no task to set his mind to, he begins to panic. He steals away from the work and Bjorn and the prying eyes to find a quiet place for introspection and thought.

His people were in peril, the dragon was far from slain and he had not a clue of how to proceed. He'd already volunteered to find and slay the dragon, of course, which was the simplest answer - but how was he to accomplish such a task? It was luck that he was alive now, unlike the other 9 brave heroes, and nothing more. Uhtred was not afraid to die, per se, but he was afraid to die before his time - before he could bring his people, and his name, to glory. Before he could secure his family and his legend forever. This dragon was both a blessing and a curse in that regard, but the curse seemed the larger in his mind.

Prayer. That was what he needed. For consolation. For guidance. For strength. It is as he seeks for an appropriate place for communion with his gods that Kaitlyn finds him.

Uhtred suddenly grows a very concerned expression and comes to stand close to Kaitlyn, his large, callused hands coming to gently hold the far sides of the injury on her arm. He doesn't speak his concern for her well-being, but it is obvious - he always had difficulty hiding his thoughts from her.

But as she speaks her own concerns, his face hardens once again, though not out of anger, but rather resolve, "Aye, it's so." His brow furrows as he adds to the statement, "And you're staying here." He speaks in that tone of command which many in Trondheim listened to, with exception of her of course. The perks of familiarity.

****

Uhtred spends the night alone, away from the village, though not so far he cannot see the Halls of Ivar. The gods were old and sometimes difficult to hear in the proximity of the priests. But they were loud that night. Uhtred saw visions of both greatness and violence - his own and others. Teeth and crowns and blood and beauty. It was all beyond his comprehension, of course, but it still calmed his anxious heart. He felt blessed; chosen even. Watched over by Vöra, fashioned by Dáin, wizened by Vidur, but favored most by Hár. He would become a weapon for the gods and in return, the gods would bless his people. It was that simple.

As the tall champion begins making his way through the field back to his village, he is intercepted by Marna, an outgoing and vigorous child who saw herself as Sigarda's gift to Mydnar. She greets Uhtred with a hug and they walk back together, hand-in-hand. From her he learns of the meeting to be had, and from him she learns that the gods do listen to prayers if you try talking to them once in a while for yourself, rather than letting the fussy old priest do it on your behalf. It was an educational morning for the both of them.

Uhtred greets every person he meets on the way to Lars' home, sparing a kind word and a blessing from the gods. It was a new day. It was a new chance at life.

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn flinched reflexively as Uhtred reached out to touch her arm. The dissonance between being so badly injured and then being healthy again in such a short space of time was playing tricks on her brain. She could see the concern written all over his face. She supposed he had every right to be. She gently shrugged his hands off, though.

Though she'd been expecting him to confirm her fears, it still hurt her to hear it. His insistence that she stay behind as well was just salt in the wound. She took a step back away from him, shaking her head "You can't be serious. We barely drove it away today, and look what it did!" She gestures around them, "And now you're saying you're going to try and chase it down?" She shakes her head again, a pained look on her face, "You're going to get yourself killed..."

[Redshaw]

Uhtred grows a pained expression as she pulls away from him. "Of course I am serious, Kaitlyn. Vöra has laid this path for me and there is no avoiding it - Fate is Inexorable." He would use that damn phrase to justify every stupid decision he ever made. "And it is because of what it did that I will not try and chase it down. I will hunt the bitch down. I will run her to the ground. I will take her heart. I will bring it to you." He steps forward to try and take her smaller hands in his, smiling gently. "And if I die despite my success, I would forbid you to despair, for I would join my Father among the ranks of the Einherjaren."

She would know that when he said "father", he did not mean Ragnar, but rather the Old Man, the Allfather.

"And you will stay, not because I do not need you at my side, but because Trondheim needs you more."

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn's pain and hurt started to sour following Uhtred's words, turning to anger. She pulled her hands away from his again, less subtly this time. "So the men that died today? They died so that, what, you could have the chance to impress me by hunting a Dragon? Eleven people dead so that you can play hero?" She glared at Uhtred, "And if you should die as well I'm just meant to shrug it off?"

She turned away from him for a moment, trying to compose herself. When she turned back, her expression was more focused, though her anger could still be seen under the surface, "I can't just sit by and watch you get killed. If I were to demand you stayed here while I ran off to fight a Dragon you would not just stand idle and let me," Kaitlyn took a step back toward Uhtred, glowering up at him, "so why in the hells do you get the only say in what your final fate is?"

[Redshaw]

Uhtred winces and frowns as her words bite and he finds a little anger for himself to return, "Those men died to save their families and their homes. There is no greater honor and their sacrifice shames me."

She was right of course, his decision was hardly altruistic and she saw right through it. It still made him angry. "Man was never meant to live forever, Kaitlyn. Goodly Dain saw the wisdom of making our lives so brief; it makes their purpose all the more meaningful. You tell me to worry for my life, but I cannot cling to something which does not rightfully belong to me."

He straightens his shoulders now, tilting his head up and speaks somewhat vainly, "I am an Ivarson. The weight of heroes and giants boils my blood and I am a slave to both Gods and memory. This path was never my design, though I'll follow it without hesitation; it is bigger than you and it is certainly bigger than me. You cannot know that burden, Kaitlyn, nor would I wish it upon you."

He sighs as he calms down from the speech and stares deeply into young skald's eyes, trying to convey his desparation. "You are the dearest thing to me here on Mydnar, though I do not own you. Please stay, protect our people, and yourself. I cannot know where Vora's Book bids me go, nor what her sly daughter schemes for me, but I would have you keep wide berth so long as the danger is near. Please."

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn bristled at Uhtred's reply. "You pig-headed idiot! If you won't value your own life for your own sake, then bloody well do so for the rest of us! Do you really think a camp fire story would be a comfort to those left behind? Why don't you go and ask Halvard if his memories of Han are as good as the real thing?"

Even as she said it, Kaitlyn knew that she was being unfair. Uhtred wanted to keep the village safe, just like she did. The only difference was how they thought they should do it. She sighed, rubbing her eyes one handed, "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said that... It's just..." She looked back up at Uhtred again, the anger in her eyes no longer there, "Uhtred... You're already the hero. You drove a Dragon away and saved our home. It knows better than to attack us here again, there's nothing to be gained in going after it now."

[Redshaw]

Uhtred sighs and pinches his eyes with furrowed brow, "This isn't about being a hero, Kaitlyn." It was, a little bit.

He catches her gaze now and speaks with dreadful seriousness, "And that is not the last we've seen of the beast. It will return to its lair, it will lick its wounds and it will come with a rain of fire that we cannot be sure we can defend against. It is the beast or it is us; there is no compromise. You know that."

He crosses his large, tattooed arms to signal finality, turning away from her. "...I cannot force you to stay, but I ask that you would. As your friend. As your..." He stops himself from finishing that sentence. That was a distinction they'd discussed only once before; she rebuffed his advances and it was still a sore subject for him, still months after the fact.

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn felt a weight settle on her chest, she had a good idea of what it was that Uhtred had wanted to say. Trying to break the uncomfortable silence, she replied "You don't know that it will come back. If an animal gets hurt, it doesn't keep trying its luck in the same place." She walked around Uhtred so that she was in front of him again, "But I know that nothing I say is going to sway you on this." She smiled sadly, "And I think you know that there's nothing you can say that will stop me going with you."

[Redshaw]

She's wise to realize Uhtred will not be swayed. And although she very specifically resists his request to stay, he still smiles kindly, the anger in him dying as quickly as it was raised, "...well... if you're coming, I might have a chance of coming back after all."

He leans in to embrace his childhood friend as a comrade, but still bends to kiss her cheek when they release. He didn't want her to go, for fear of losing her, but to be honest, it would have been a disquiet in his heart to travel without his oldest friend.

With the decision made, he takes a few steps back from her, turns around, and walks to find a more secluded area, where he and his Father might have words.

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn shook her head again at Uhtred's comment, this time with a smile on her face. "You're not exactly selling this very well."

She accepted his embrace, glad that they weren't going to end the night at odds with one another. His kiss caught her off guard, causing her to blush. Uncertain what to say, she was grateful that he chose that moment to turn around. With nothing left to do or say, she returned to her home. It took her a few moments to re-orientate herself, the streets always seemed different at night. Before long she was back in her familiar house, ready to try and get some sleep.

There's not any more of this that I was after doing, so I'm ready to move on if Redshaw is.

[Amaril]

Lars' cottage is on the larger side of village homes, but by no means extravagant. The thatched-roof wooden dwelling sits on the bank of the Goblin's Run river, within sight of the inner village wall. Since the river is on the opposite side of the hill from where the dragon first arrived, it's not surprising that no signs of damage are to be seen as you approach.

Lars himself answers the door as you knock, admitting you into his main room--unlike many in Trondheim, the priest has enough space for a separate bedroom and kitchen. The elders are already assembled as you arrive; Bjorn and Anais have been allowed the seats by the hearth, while Eirik and Lars remain standing, Eirik leaning relaxed against the wall. When Kaitlyn arrives, he crosses the room and extends his hand with a warm smile. "Alright, Kait? Heard you got a pretty nasty bite off the lizard. Glad to see you're well enough to join us, at least."

Once everyone is assembled, Lars motions for silence. Standing behind Bjorn's chair, he turns to address all of you. "Thank you all for coming--I can only imagine how exhausted you must all be after yesterday, but I'm sure you understand how important it is that we have a plan in mind. Bjorn tells me you're all determined to go and find the dragon's lair. We all know you want the best for the village, and we appreciate your being so eager to help...but I'm afraid we have to disappoint you. We've discussed things, and all of us agree that we cannot send you to track the dragon."

Bjorn holds up a hand to forestall any reactions. "Please, let us explain." Leaning forward in his chair, he regards you all with a grave expression. "Yes, it's true that there's still a risk to the village as long as the dragon is alive. But it's also the case that its attack yesterday killed a full nine of our warriors, the better part of Trondheim's fighting force. As of now, you five, Olfred, and Sasha are the only people capable of defending the village. We already know that a dragon is incredibly deadly--you may have survived one encounter, but what happens if we send you after it and you don't come back? We would be left practically defenseless, both against the dragon once it heals, and from any number of other things that might threaten the village."

"There is something else you can do to help, though" Eirik chimes in. "We can't risk practically all our fighters against the dragon, but I don't think we have to--wounds like I'm told you put on it will take time to heal, time you all can put to use. On top of getting rid of the lizard, we need supplies if we're going to rebuild here, and it wouldn't hurt to bring in a few more fighters to help shore up our defenses while we work on that. And there's one place where we have a chance of getting all those things quickly: Thorskard."

Lars nods. "Queen Gerda is bound by the terms of our oath of fealty to send us aid and protection should we need it, and we all agree that now is certainly such a moment. We need someone to ride for Thorskard and seek audience with her, to tell her what's happened and petition her for assistance. And since we all know the road there can be dangerous, we ask you five to be that someone."

"It's still a risk having you away from Trondheim even for that long" says Bjorn, "but we all think it's less of a risk than it would be to send you after the dragon. I, for one, cannot imagine you running into anything nearly that dangerous on the way, and it's only two days each way with good horses, which horsemaster Olaf has generously agreed to provide."

"This is the best chance the village has right now" Anais finally speaks up. "Uhtred, Edricht, I understand that you want to finish what you started yesterday, but please, I urge you, remember the greater picture. Every one of you has brought honor to your family with what you have done already, but now we need you to set aside your personal honor for the good of the village, at least for a little while. Will you do this for us?"

[Farmerbink]

As the elders begin speaking, Edricht cannot hide his impatience. He fidgets for a few moments (making a horrific racket) as Lars speaks. Only after a stern glare from Anais does he calm himself. Before long, he is antsy again, and has trouble containing himself. With deference to his elders, he manages a mostly not-distracting calm, though inside his heart rate is pounding ever faster.

He is clearly shocked when Lars says they will not track the dragon. He swallows his pride and objections and waits for the elders to finish. He becomes more and more agitated as the discussion goes on. As Anais begins to speak, he can barely contain his frustration- until she commends us for bringing honor to our families. In an instant, his expression shifts from righteous indignation to stunned reflection.

When she finishes, he bursts into speech, before knowing fully what he intends to say. I... cannot imagine that we are best suited to petition the queen. I- we- that is... How does one behave before a queen? I do not see how...

He takes a few breaths before composing his thoughts. If you think it best, I will submit to your authority- though I still do not understand why you would send us on this errand.

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn smiled when she saw Eirik. Taking his hand in greeting, she replied "I'm fine thanks, Birkita's magic did good work."

As she listened to the elder's talk, she felt a great weight lift from her chest. There would be no dragon hunting today. She glanced briefly over to Uhtred. She couldn't imagine he'd be pleased with that decision, but he'd respect the will of the elder's if nothing else.

Petitioning Queen Gerda for help made a lot of sense. Even if she didn't believe that the Dragon was likely to return, Bjorn was right that the village had suffered heavy losses the previous night. The only part she was uncomfortable with was the idea that they'd need to leave the village defenseless, even if it was only for a short period of time.

She was about to assent to the decision when Edricht began to talk. She felt herself tense at his outburst, the decision made sense. How could he not see that?

"I doubt we'd be talking directly to the Queen, Edricht. And you can't deny that we need more people here to defend the village."

[bryn0528]

After the dragon attack, Halvard gathered his few things and turned to the woods again. He set up his camp in the wilderness, though closer than he usually would be inclined to do so. He caught a few glances of Adil during his time in the town, and at some point later in the night, well after the sun had set, she visited his camp. He shared a simple meal with his wife and the two enjoyed the company of one another, despite a lingering pain just beneath both of their surfaces. The two stayed late into the night talking, and eventually fell asleep in each others arms.

Upon waking, Halvard noticed first that his wife was missing. She must have left before I awoke, he thought a bit sadly to himself. He spent this early morning meditating beneath the low branches of a tree, when a runner approached the camp and asked for Halvard, by name, to return to the city. What would the elders seek of me? he thought, with only a shadow of a memory of the day before.

Halvard came, his ratty pack clanking loudly. He offered a warm smile in greeting, but kept silent. "Edricht," he said finally, "We have little else option, little. Kaitlyn and Birkita, Kaitlyn can appeal to the queen and Birkita too. This is a better plan, better than just waiting to die or to find the dragon, dragon fire to kill us too."

[Kish]

"Hm." Birkita frowns. "I...suppose that's logical...Do you have any idea why the dragon attacked?"

Right now, I wish I'd learned more about dragons. I don't know if they're intelligent or not or if they heal any faster than a lizard would. Birkita does not reflect on whether the dragon will return to attack again when it heals; whether for sapient motivations or animalistic and now-vindictive bloodlust, after its determined attack the previous day, she is certain that it will.

[Farmerbink]

"Hm." Birkita frowns. "I...suppose that's logical...Do you have any idea why the dragon attacked?"

Edricht faces Birkita. It could have been any number of reasons. It looked young to me, and I was unable to determine the dragon's gender- we were all a bit preoccupied, but if it was female, she may have been trying to gorge so she could lay a clutch. Perhaps it was a younger dragon still, trying to find hunting grounds. He, she, it, whatever, would have to see if there were any threats to its dominion before settling in one place. Still, it may simply have seen some of the livestock and thought it spied an easy supper.

In any case, dragons are not stupid. Whether it attacks the village again or not, it will certainly remember it. Whether it is we or some others, it must be dealt with- permanently- else we will never truly be free of the fear that when a bird passes o'er the sun, it's really the beast, come to make good on its last attempt.

He then turns to Halvard. I know you think it's the best plan, but I cannot help but feel like my skills will be of little use before a queen, or her courts or advisors, or whoever we speak with. Still, as I have said, I will go. The elders have spoken, and their will shall be respected. He faces the elders and bows.

When shall we leave?

[Amaril]

"Right away, if you can" Eirik answers Edricht. "And I wouldn't count your skills as useless for this. It's a dangerous road to Thorskard, and anyone who can fight will help our message get through--that's why we're asking all of you to do this in the first place. Anyway, Olaf has horses ready for you now, so you can pack your gear and head out as soon as you're ready."

Bjorn glances at Uhtred. "You've been quiet, son. Are you willing to take on this mission?"

[Redshaw]

Uhtred fights the temper that slowly builds in his core as the elders speak.

He had set his troubles aside. He was ready to die. He was prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice. And now they asked him to save himself.

No, he reminded himself, they ask me to do what is right. Not for me, not for Ivar, but for the Människorna.

It was a good plan, and sound, but not the plan he wanted. It was also risky, but perhaps less-so than charging after the dragon outright.

He grinds his teeth as he nods his head in acceptance; of course he would do as they asked. They were wise and he was young.

"...it is as Vöra has written it."

The gods worked in mysterious ways.

He would be unable to face Kaitlyn's eyes. She would be glad for his acceptance, to be sure, but after their fight, he felt... impotent.

[Farmerbink]

"Right away, if you can" Eirik answers Edricht. "And I wouldn't count your skills as useless for this. It's a dangerous road to Thorskard, and anyone who can fight will help our message get through--that's why we're asking all of you to do this in the first place. Anyway, Olaf has horses ready for you now, so you can pack your gear and head out as soon as you're ready."

Edricht looks around the room, at his friends and relatives gathered among the elders. He seems to realize, for the first time, that none of them dressed for battle, as he had. Errr... it appears I may have been just a bit hasty in my preparations. No matter, I will wait while the rest of you gather your equipment. If Olaf has any tasks yet unfinished, I will aid him.

With your blessings, it will be done as you have said. He bows his head to the elders again.



"...it is as Vöra has written it."

Edricht nods, allowing his cousin's voice to convey his own sentiments, before heading out the door to see if Olaf can use any help with the horses.

[Amaril]

"Very well" says Lars. "Go and retrieve your equipment. Olaf will meet you with the horses by the northeast path. May the gods watch over your journey."

"Aye, come back safe, all of you" Bjorn nods. "Suppose we're due a little good luck, considering everything."

-----

Several minutes later, you arrive at the eastern gate of the inner village, travelling gear in hand. As promised, horsemaster Olaf is there to meet you, with five horses in tow. He wears his customary scowl, crossing his arms over his impressive girth as you approach. "Took your sweet time, didn't you? Well, never mind. You be careful with my horses now--they're good beasts, not that I can even afford losing my weakest at a time like this. And those damn city folk'll swindle them away from you as soon as blink. I swear, you'd never know they were Människorna, the way they are up there." He snorts derisively, clearly willing to go on about the evils of Thorskarders for much longer if given the chance. "Anyhow, they're all ready, full tack and feed for the trip. Oh, and the elders wanted me to pass this on." He tosses Uhtred a pouch that jingles with the sound of coins. "Five talents' worth, in case you need it. Good luck out there."

The village gate stands open, the road stretching out beyond. At the other end lies Thorskard, and hopefully, help for the village.

Each of you gets a light horse (non-combat trained), riding saddle, saddlebags, and four days' worth of feed. I'll let you each describe your animal and decide on its name. In addition, you have 5 silver's worth of coins (which is a lot, by Trondheim standards) to divide among yourselves.

You have the following data about the journey to Thorskard.

Time: 3 days on foot, 2 days on horseback
Terrain: Evergreen woodland, temperate
Settlements On Route: None
Camping Difficulty: No check
Foraging Difficulty: Survival DC 10
Threats: Wolves (common), bandits (uncommon), bears (uncommon), goblins (rare)

[bryn0528]

At the edge of the town, Halvard waited with his roan horse's reins in his hands. He smiled and whispered to the beast, and fed it a small crab apple from the palm of his hand. "Maera," he told anyone who was interested enough, but mostly felt lost among the others. It had been such a long time since he spent so much contact with others, in two days no less! It left his head feeling fuzzy from the connection to nature and to the sky. He kept away from others to clarify his thoughts. "Are we ready?" he asked as he climbed atop the saddle. "It'll be much quicker to ride, and we should move with haste. I can keep an eye for supplies, so that we don't eat through our rations in one night." Did he always sound so coherent? Apparently staying away from nature muddled his head, but made him more human in other ways.

Spells prepared for the day: 0 (Light, Mending, Purify Food and Drink, Spark), 1 (Cure Light Wounds, Hide from Animals, Shillelagh).
Ride check (if needed): [roll0].
Survival check (to forage as they travel): [roll1].

[Kish]

Birkita takes a detour, before going home, to visit her brother Der.

"You're going to get killed," he greets her.

"Love you too. And thanks for the vote of confidence."

"That was a dragon! I know everyone else in our family tells you you're invincible, but--" Der sputters to a stop.

"So I should go home and wait until it comes back and burns the house down? But I'm not going after the dragon. The elders asked us--everyone who fought the dragon--to go appeal to the Queen for help."

"Well, that's better than I was thinking, anyway." Der sighs unhappily. "It's not outright suicide."

"I'll see you when we get back. Good luck with fishing in the meantime." Birkita tries to keep sarcasm out of her voice on the last sentence.

Der opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but closes it without saying anything; Birkita hurries to her home to tell the rest of her family where she's going and change into her gear. Her sisters and parents are a lot happier about the situation than Der was; Amara tells her, "And when you come back, then you can kill the dragon!" Giving Amara a noncommittal smile at that, Birkita heads to the edge of town to meet the others.

At Halvard's words, she nods. "That's a good idea. I don't know how to hunt, I'm afraid."

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn walks up to the horse furthest right, reaching out to touch the nose of the beast. She smiled nervously as she did so, "Hey there boy..."

She glanced over to the others, "I... Don't suppose any of you could show me how you ride a horse? It's not something I ever learned."

[Farmerbink]

Edricht looks up from his position near one of the horses as the last of his traveling companions arises. As they go about acquainting themselves with their mounts, Edricht stands at the head of his assigned horse. He strokes the stallion's mane with a coarse hand as the others go about their business.


[Kaitlyn] glanced over to the others, "I... Don't suppose any of you could show me how you ride a horse? It's not something I ever learned."

With a somewhat astonished look, Edricht turns to Kaitlyn. Truly? I- suppose it's not that common a skill... He then approaches her, and directs her where to put her feet. For the most part, the horse knows what to do. It's more about.... he spends the next several minutes guiding her about the basics before instructing her briefly to guide the horse around in a few short circles. ...above all else, stay calm. These horses, they smell fear. If you get spooked, you can bet your horse is about to get spooked, also. With several points to punctuate his statements, he nods. You've certainly got enough of it down to be fine for now. I might recommend hopping off if we find something we need to fight- riding a horse down the road and fighting from it's back are two completely different things. I'm not sure I'd try it, though... I've never had a chance to, before. An amused expression flashes across his face, as he contemplates the thought.

After several moments, he looks around at the others. Are we ready, then?

[Kish]

"It's not something I've learned, either." Birkita tries to follow along with Edricht's lesson.

[Redshaw]

Uhtred is the last to arrive at the stables. He spends an appropriate amount of time with Bjorn, embracing his impossibly tall caretaker in farewell, "I will return successful, or not at all. The gods are with us."

He also makes a stop at Dáin's shrine, offering a talent and a prayer, "May you and your Lord watch over Trondheim, Father of Man, for I go where I wish would I not. Forgive my cowardice. Forget my complaints. Remember my people."

Uhtred arrives at the stables as Kaitlyn lifts herself onto her horse, catching the end of Edricht's instructions. He smiles and comes to pat the nose of her horse, stroking its head favorably, "Oats, apples, and love are the key to a horse's heart. And once you have its heart, it will never disappoint or betray you." He smiles genuinely despite the sadness filling his heart as the time to leave their home approaches, "Do not look so grim, Kaitlyn. We go to banquet with the queen. Think of the stories you will tell your sons."

Uhtred chuckles and then goes to saddle his own horse, a muscular beast of young years and fiery temper. Its fur is a dark black with swirls of grey detailing its flanks, imitating a smokey pattern. For this reason, it is called Smoka and it is a fine horse. He handles the beast well and guides it to the front-most position of their little caravan.

Uhtred smiles at each of his companions as he moves toward the front, speaking as he goes. "These are dark times for our people. An age of dragons and fear and uncertainty. We've not been under such threat since the days of Knut and my great grandfather. But I do not fear for our people, for the Gods walk among us and they love us and they cherish us, for we are a loyal and faithful people. A strong people. A people who will survive. We will not fail them and they will not fail us. We shall go to the queen, we shall force her to listen, and we shall return to feast on dragon meat!"

[Comissar]

Kaitlyn climbed onto the back of the horse carefully. Though the creature seemed quite content to just stand there while she mounted it, she couldn't help feeling a small amount of trepidation. They'd never seemed quite this big when she'd seen them around the village before. And the height at which she was now sitting was surprisingly high. She grinned when she felt it stir under her, patting its neck. "Thanks, Edricht. I appreciate it."

She looked over to Uhtred as he joined in the conversation, "So the way to a horses heart is through its stomach? That sounds familiar." A smile played across her face as she made the gentle jibe, "I think it's telling that the first thing you think of about meeting a queen is the food she will provide."

[Farmerbink]

"Thanks, Edricht. I appreciate it."

Taken slightly aback by the comment, a wary smile slowly grows across his features. I am... very glad to be able to help. The wariness fades from his face, and he prepares himself to set out.

[bryn0528]

Halvard looked between Kaitlyn and Edricht and shook his head at the boy slowly. Halvard looked mildly amused.