Beyond Myria (Iron Heroes) IC

[Gygaxphobia]

Introduction


At first there is not much to see.
The formless landscape has no shape, the textures have no edge, no seam to separate one object from another.
A tree, a rock, a home: each alike under the shroud of icy-white wool that hugs and shelters... and clings and gnaws and freezes.

The wind is visible here, it's sharp slashing scratches are white-blue ice. The flakes of so-gentle snow in freefall are caught up in it's rage and rip against your flesh like so many frosty claws.
Your breath is expelled in billowing clouds of heatless steam, causing moisture on the lips; momentarily pleasant but then numbing and nerve-killing.

The flakes float and drift along currents running over wide open plains, pock-marked with tracks of unknown creatures.
The barest detail breaks the monotony of the endless whiteness: a greyish pile of loose stone, sheltered by a snow-covered overhang; the glistening sheen of frozen pools where moisture goes to die, opaque and thick, criss-crossed with cracks; the hardy shrub, tenacious and undaunted, holding aloft it's handful of snow with the lush greenness of it's thorny leaves peeking through.

Here, on close inspection is the hidden world beneath the deathly layer. The green shoot that braves the journey to the surface is met by still morning air and fine mist, hanging with moisture and pockets of warmth from a waking sun. The ancient blurry orb, weak and orange, that rises bleery-eyed from deep slumber and yawns, stretching it's frail arms softly and lovingly over it's children.
And they rise to greet it -slowly and quietly- softly, so as not to startle the old man back to his bed or irk him such that he takes away his love. The first sweet chirrup from a bough brings a chorus of honking from low flying gaggles. The pad of soft athletes feet is unseen as it shifts the snow, it's ears keen and nose twitching, it's front teeth bared towards the finer roots that all rabbits love, in battle with the frozen earth that holds it's treasures close. The yellow eyes blink open within their rocky home, sharp ears quiver and powerful sinews stretch; well-oiled and sharp, weapons are drawn and sheathed in another blink and the wolf surveys the day. The hunt begins...

Across a field of upright pines that flow across the lazy sloping hillside, the tap and knock of axes chopping wood echoes shouts against a sheer mountainface. Tracks of bare brown run from place to place, the slush of mud and dirty ice makes cold more unpleasant still. A single tendril of welcoming smoke from a cabin of layered logs signals life.

Up unclimbable faces of mirrored ice, in the crags awash with thorny heather, cured skin doors make private caves to huddled families. When a spring from deepest earth pierces the rock, the trickle can shape the mountain and all life it holds with it. A patch of melting snow, a vibrant soil of human warmth, worms that turn the food for plants and there can be green grass. The last and rarest of all treasures may be found amongst the spores and fungus which clings to damp and wood. For here is the gold the dragons of ice give their lives to guard. A petal that colours the snow with shades of it's reflected glory, oft red it lends a pinkness to the world, it's beauty unchallenged.

Over the plateau of bare grainy rock, the valley floor below stretches to the horizon, bounded on all sides by mountains. Far, far below the tail of a dirty snake creeps it way towards the future. It's head unseen, it could lap the world thrice and never be met. It's body trails in awkward curves across the landscape, following the contours and leaving chaos in it's wake.

The Column could be ten miles long. Some weeks it may be twelve, some fifteen. Those at the front can rest and gather strength, for when they wake it has not passed. Those at the back must struggle on, and reach halfway before they sleep.
Walkers are many, drying their boots and feet often. Some herd children, some sheep, some goats. A dog may scatter them here or there. There maybe carts for the foolish who mend wheels by the dozen and waste food on cows better used for food themselves. Horses ridden by one or shared by many, wrapped in blankets and often cleaned. There are sleds, some fast, some large, some heavy laden. Dogs can be worth the feed and many catch their own.
The tracks behind the tons of human travellers are mud and churned snow, that are sweep clean in hours by new fall. The leavings are little for scraps are unheard of, all can be reused or traded. Even human dirt is warmth when burnt .
Somewhere at the front a guide points the way, unceasing, unslowing and careless of who is left behind.

The Wind That Walks (by Kain_Tempest with editing by Gygaxphobia)
The fire cackles to itself, hissing and spitting it's wicked laugh and throwing it's ghostly light back and forth across the ice.
There is some yellowed grass on this hillside, seeping like a sore from earthy banks, plastered to the ground and with a sheen of ice.

The riders move in a kind of harmony inside an invisible prison. The wide open hillside is lost to them; they are trapped within a circle of light and heat, and they try their upmost to remain within it no matter how crowded it may get.

Natural light is failing. Perhaps two hours of sunlight remain, and even then there are hills between you and the sun, so it may be shorter. The circle around the fire is isolated from the bustle of activity at the bottom of the slope, the Warriors hold thmselves apart, steeling their minds for the night's tasks.

One rider has finished his work and sits whittling at a piece of wood, flecks going into the fire. A deep voice comes across the fire pit, not from this man though, but from somewhere behind him hidden in shadow.

"I had the mixed fortunes to come across one who saw them once." He begins.
"He feared to use their name, and spoke only of the Wind that Walks. This person -a man still with signs of youth- is a shaman of sorts. He saw the things once long ago, and he is haunted by them in his dreams. He lived in fear that they would come for him one day.
"When he was a child he lived in a small clan of ten. Three families living in the wild, by their wits and skill at craft they found what they needed. One week they stalked the elk that fled into the forest, following their tracks in the pristine snow that had hardened until it crunched under their heels. They had travelled two cloudless days and nights, but never found the herd. They found trees with broken bark at man's height and they were wary of bears prowling for food, although no tracks suggested it.
"On the third day they found the herd they stalked. Dead. Consumed in a valley in the middle of the forest. Their bodies had been torn apart, their flesh rent, and their bones broken. Not a track showed anything leaving the grove, only those the elk entering but never escaping. The sky had been silent, no wind nor rain nor fresh snowfall to hide the tracks. The band sought to leave the accursed woods, but already they had overstayed their welcome.
"On the third night, They came. The moon was full and the land was dark. Although the sky was clear above them black clouds circled like scavenging birds, tempted to come close to a dead meat, but afraid for predators that lurked there. The wind whipped back and forth, like the zip of archers at battle, from one direction to another the winds fought for dominance. Giants of shadow appeared: three beings, twelve feet tall, approached from three directions of the wind. Under moonlight could be seen brown skin drawn taut over bone and muscle with shaggy white fur. Their feet standing on top of the snow, never making tracks and nor a sound. Their breath glowed in the darkness coming out of lipless, fanged mouths that seemed twisted in a malicious grin, with eyes that glowed in the darkness, with or without the moon or firelight.
"Lightning flashed so bright it seared the eyes red, even when closed. The pop of thunder was close behind. Descending on the band as they made camp, talons disembowled the adults while great paws scooped up the children and stuffing them into bone crushing mouths. Hiding beneath the blanket, the little boy could only stare in horror at the bloody banquet the things were making from all he knew.
"When the carnage was over, one of the creatures turned and looked down at the little boy where he hid and pointed a long clawed finger at him. Without lips, tongue, or the movement of it's jaw, the thing spoke, the wind being it's voice.
"'Ten winters and the mother is full, we shall return. Your flesh or that of all you have will be your sacrifice for mercy. Feed us and you shall be rewarded.' It and its pair then departed back into the night, leaving the flutter of tent flaps and those dead spirits beihd them.."

"Needless to say, myself and my entourage were disconcerted when we realised that it had been ten years since the event occurred, on that very night that this poor man was telling us. And more so, for the next night the moon would be full. I entered a lengthy discussion with my wife and followers and it was decided that they would not stay and risk facing their deaths if the Wind that Walks did return. But being a story teller, I needed to see it for myself.
"And so I stayed in the village of the victim. I stayed with the night watch around the fire in the middle of town, as the moon rose high. One of them said a curious thing to me. With trembling breath I was told of the shaman 'He speaks of what can save us from them all. It's like a riddle. The weasel, the fool and his ore monger kin; one wolf, a bear who feasts and the girl who will never weep again. Bring the sloth, and the tender let her mourn and let her tend. With bellies full of metals they will mend what must be mend... Have you ever heard of these?' "
"The others mocked and jeered, but there was something in their eyes that lent the truth. And that shaman new a good deal of Truth himself. I lay great store by his words.

"But as the moon rose to it's highest did we hear in the distance the sound of three beasts howling. The watchmen assured me that it was normal, that wolves frequented the nearby forest since the start of the winter, and they always howled at the full moon. I wasn't so sure...
"Somehow, sleep over took me. Even though I had prepared myself to stay awake the whole night, slumber finally took me as the moon began it's descent amidst the baying of the distance wolves.
"When I awoke I was alone and lightly dusted with new fallen snow. The sky was overcast and the snow must have come in soon after morning. Around me were the half covered tracks of where the watch had been, standing near the now dead fire. But there were no tracks leading away. I called out and heard no answer. No livestock, no children, and no smoke from any chimney. I quickly searched the village, but to no avail, everyone was missing with no sign of where they had gone. Everyone but the young man. In his home I found him, or at least, what was left of him.
"His skin lay on the floor as if being prepared to be tanned. All the bones and flesh were gone, and only his torn skin lay in a thin pool of blood on the floor of hut. But that was all. Everything else had been like it was the night before. I will never know why I was spared, but I had no memory of seeing the Wind that Walked. I only have the faintest guess, but all of them would likely prove false.
"That night, I was reunited with my band and we started back on our way. That night the wind brought to us the sound of the baying wolves from the empty village. But this time, there was a fourth singing the song of the night."

The silence returns, deeper and darker than before. Slowly men begin to draw weapons across their laps. With rags, oil and pumice stones they tend with careful patience to those who stand between them and death.


The Common Tongue
It's mid-Autumn (Mabon) so you get 8-9 hours of daylight a day.
Once in a moonsturn = fairly common
heatstone = coal/charcoal etc.

Beltane = Season of Sun's Kiss = Summer.
Mabon = Season of Earth's Bounty = Harvest-time BUT Lughansah = Season of Summer's end, so the same thing.
Samhain = Season for the Hearth = winter
Imbolc = Season When The Rains Come = Spring.
some of the mountain-fox = A show-off
ginvast/genwaste = a caffeine/amphetamine herb brewed into a drink.
Spears of Rigthane = two huge mountain peaks.

The sign of All shows in the stars, a sword pointing straight up and his Thane rises next to him. The simple stick figure of Rig with his ax and helm with nose piece is one of the moer recognisable constellations, and one which many peoples can agree on.
The deep patch of pure black is highlighted by the night blue and the stars to the West, among them the Scythe - which is the sign of the last bountiful harvest that Myria ever knew.

What are Cadinoc?
Cadinoc is one of a variety of names that are given to raiders. They might be a tribe or clan, certainly a name you have heard before.

((They kind of have a reputation like "Reavers" from Firefly or maybe the Snake Cult from "Conan"... You certainly wouldn't have ever had a friendly conversation with one.))

As for how much you know about them,. probably very little indeed. If you are from the plains or other lowlands, they are a big, big concern. The best defense against them is to hide your settlement, not many hamlets can stand up to groups of 30 raiders on horseback.

Battle of the Totems
Koal Nos, spirit of the bear, I summon you, render of flesh, gnawer of bones, drink of the blood of my enemies... Koal Nos, raksa shan, maksha ran, keza nul, koza rel, vega gosh, Koal Nos!
Mala fre Koal Nos! Deafv to Bear! Bring Ayame, Adal-mada - unstring legs, rip throats, fight with weight of pack!

"Wolf-mother, she-wolf," Jyn whispers to herself barely audible to her companions.
"Whatever voiced those words speaks of an ancient evil derived from gods possibly worshipped by one of our ancestors. I have a sinking feeling about this."
Wolf is dead, slain by Bear! Let all the Spirits know that Koal Nos, Spirit of the Bear, is mightiest!

Glory Points
Everyone 1 (Public rescue of child, prosecution of thieves)
Everyone 1 (Accepted as the Thane's Huscarls)
Grakka 1 (Triple-Kill at the Warden's Fort)
Everyone 2 (Defense of Pinval at the Warden's Fort)
Everyone 1 ('Died' in service to their Thane Egrek)
Everyone 1 (Feasted as Heroes by the people of Pinval)

Noj's Catalogue of Cruel Creatures and Lore
"There's the Shiverbits and the Chalkmen and the ice witches, 'f course," Noj continues, taking another piece of meat,
"But there's ane worse; We call them Trimber."
"Never knew where Wendigo come from...maybe this is the source of the Shiverbit?"
"I think he means Spindleweaves. The little white things with eight legs. They hide their weaves in the snow to catch scouts."
"Well...usually you can't. If you're looking for 'em, sometimes you can see where the light doesn't reflect off the snow the way it should; there's patterns instead like cracked ice." He sighs. "But most times you won't know until someone's been entangled. It's easier in the Kumsbin; there the Spindleweaves put their weaves in the trees too, and those are easy to spot."
It looks like a tooth. But a tooth this big would be from a Kraggswyrm or even Jokul. Are those Wendigo common here?"
Vesha Kul - That tooth is from a Derаkon
...why is it so warm? Is this the Jumyana? The spirit that freezes men by making them feel warm?"

Cocky bastard deserves to spend some time with his face in someone's armpit.
Who's that short streak of yellow, then?
...you're heading towards getting your flute snapped clean in half
You're a fobbing elf-skinned puttock...
Pah, that goatish lewdster's gonna have to learn...
And tha' for you, you hairy wendigo bastard.
Brunsten's balls, man!
...it's wrong. Wrong like a two-headed sheep.

By the slubbering gobs of trunchkins...I'm not dead!
Noj shifts his head around to catch the gaze of the onlookers.
"I'm nae dead! I'll knock any man down as tells me I'm dead! I've got my people to defend and wendigo to slay before I go on."


Noj interjects
"Wha' about just...maiming? Is maiming okay? Or if we knock them out?"

Vesha yells in shock. The mountain spirit knows we are here! It is trying to scare us away! He grits his teeth and shoulders his maul determinedly. We cannot let it think he can intimidate us."
Noj coughs and mutters into his hand
"Aye, and his aim blows, too."



Ingvar's Index of Insults
He shook his head in amusement at the exchange between Thyr, Tono, and Vesha. Hopefully the madman would not go baresark and try to eat any of them during the night...

Bah! Daft rabbit humpers, the pair of them!
Hela's rotting loins!
By the Snow Behemoth's balls, woman! Nobody orders me around!
By the Leviathan...
By the God of the Seven Dooms, do I feel a fool
"I be Ingvar the Wolf. Hold on to your codpiece, the rope is on its way."
"These mouse-humping friends of yours know little of axe-play. Strike high, woman, and smash their worthless skulls!"
Ingvar growls deep in his throat as he shakes the blood from his face. "Let us see who takes a pull on the Hell-Horn first, cat humper!"

"By Hela's frozen loins!!" He continues to laugh. "By Kos's codpiece!" He finally is able to catch his breath, and he adresses Minas once more, a smile splitting his beard.
"Vesha! Hist! Before you woke, they were speaking of the bear spirit... they said he is naught but a tree-humper with frozen stones!"
"By Kos and his Dooms, I know you are right... But I do not know if I can leave these fools at the mercy of such a beast, should it exist. And I should be able to track the column... "

"Do I look as if I wished to be carried anywhere by a crew of sod-chewers?"

Let's deal with the ugly before the mangy, shall we? Faillune implored.


Tales of Myria
In one of the old tales a hunter named Feirus was gifted this strange vision. He agreed to spend the night with a ugly hag in return for knowledge of a game trail. She fed him a strange broth to make him last until dawn - to pleasure her - and the broth made him see that by moonlight she was beautiful. He slept by day and woke by night ever after.

In another, a lost tribe were attacked by hungry wolves when trying to follow the sun to the West. They themselves were so hungry that they ate the wolves they slaughtered. The next day they found they could travel by night and hunt by scent, but when the moon came they could not resist themselves stopping to howl at it. No one knows what became of them.

It is even said that when All called his thane Rig to assemble the warriors of Myria by night, Rig was against it because Man could not see without the Sun. All sent Rig to parley with the creatures of the dark forest for their gift of lightless sight. Rig offered them a trade, that Man would never eat another hunter, only prey.
The dark forest creatures agreed to let Man see well by moonlight, but only after his heart had beat a thousand and one times, to give the creatures a chance to catch him.

Heroes of the Tower
A strong but nervous voice calls "Hail to the keep!" and the group stumble forward a few more yards.
Another calls "Heroes of the Tower! The Men of Pinval come to stand with you against the Cadinoc!"
The first speaker steps forward, holding his arm up to shield his face from the light. "Great Warriors, the strongest of us have come to stand with you, whilst our womenfolk hide up in the mountain."

"The Raiders have burnt most of what they cannot carry, yet we were sure they would come search for us. When we saw the Warden's Fire it was as first spoken by Grenish, and we knew that you were here. We fear that the Raiders saw or smelt us move though, for they have dark Wolven bound to them and are now close behind us."


Thyr's Refrain

"...Called me hard hearted, the kin that I left...
to carve out hm hmhm hm hmm...
...Said I was cru'ill, hm hmhm hm hm...
As cold as the blade that I bore...

Hm hm hm hm hmhmhm, death walks at my shoulder,
'n the taking of life is my trade...
Hm hmm hm not harder, 'n ice's not colder...
'n the heart of hmhmhm hmmm..."

[Gygaxphobia]

Beginning - First Post

Within the last month you have all joined the column.
Whether solely or in groups –even perhaps in small families – you have seen the Journey pass you by and made your way to join it. From forests, hill, mountains and vast tundra plains, the land around has emptied of what little human life was there, and the column becomes ever larger and longer.

Those you speak to have various stories. Some have been travelling for a week, some for but a day. There are those who have been on the Journey for a month and some for a season.
When you find one who claims to have travelled for a year, you find them wild-eyed and hard. They speak with fervour; their hopes are a certainty for they would not believe the time a waste. They are lean and strong, even your young strong legs have trouble keeping pace with the power of their strides, they march with determination and conviction as they tell you how every day the Journey gets easier and faster, how the pace is twice what it was at their start.
Every day there is hunting and eating what little is caught, but the walking never ceases and you pass many thin and weak stragglers. You walk for eight hours a day, or perhaps ten and when you come past halfway you know that you can now choose to rest. While you sleep, others will walk past you and you must try to catch them when you wake and pass them when they sleep.

Among the tribes and families of the column you may meet and speak to many. Some for trade and some for company, you slow and listen to a story being told or have strong words with one who gets in your way. You may never see them again as they get lost in the crowd of thousands or fall behind and disappear.

The only order to the march comes from two groups of horsemen, who seem to have taken it upon themselves to enforce some discipline. They stay on one side of the column and riding up and down they shout warnings of danger from the creatures that lurk about, directing the crowd around hazards and performing other errands.
On the south side of the march, Egrek Rothkin is a tall powerful Avalanche tribesman from the Kumbin Peak Mountains, which are in the distance to the north. He wears chainmail and leather, carrying a long spear, his thick brown curls hang down to his heavy brow. He and all his two dozen men wear fine white-grey furs around their shoulders clasped with bronze. These horsemen manoeuvre well over the low hills and rough terrain.
On the north side, the plains are flatter and six two man sleds swiftly patrol the column led by a fat burly man in pieces of rusty plate mail and black furs. This is Arnis Flaeghorn and his sons, all carrying axes and well cared for crossbows. Tey hang claws and teeth of beasts they have killed from their sleds. Their white dogs are thick-furred and sleek, likely bred with wolves and fed bloodied meat for they are snarling, vicious and rumoured to have eaten small children.

Last night you decided to sleep at the top of a ridge as the sun began to rise, when you woke it was after midday and you were very close to the back of the column. Egrek’s men are sticking close here as rumours of a savage attack spread. You are passing over the ridge of a low valley, to your left/south a range of fir trees sweeps up into the bottom of a brown rocky mountain face. It is being said that snarling black wolves leapt onto the back of the column from the trees. Looking back you are sure there is red snow in the valley and through the snowfall you see some movement in the distance, but perhaps you have imagined it.

The snow is fresh and deep here and the column is weaving slightly northwards to lead down onto the icy tundra where it is flatter.

You follow the muddy tracks of the people that have already passed you by, gritting your teeth to increase your pace and earn your next nights sleep.

Combat Guidelines
First thing is: you never get precisely what you want out of your actions when typing them out. It's just a restriction of the medium.
I don't want to waste time waiting for everyone to make a post in Initiative orderm, so post when you can, just don't respond to anyone else's actions in a combat until the round is resolved by me.

Second thing: I want you to declare your actions before I resolve anything so that I know your intentions.
I don't want anyone to waste actions so contingencies are fine (as long as they are simple) and I will use common sense to determine what you do. (i.e. if you can't hit one thing, you will hit another).

I understand that this means the highly detailed tabletop tactical decisions are not possible (e.g. I hit the guy who has just been wounded so that I get a Cleave, or even "Now that one is dead I can make a 5ft step and flank") but I will try and get you the advantages that I would seek if I were playing the character, and based on your intial strategy.

I dislike the ability to change your actions drastically during a round, the 'fog of war' is prevalent during your six seconds, so one you have committed yourself by stating your intention at the beginning you can only make minor changes.

I am only rolling for NPCs .. I won't roll for players (in combat) unless I specifically state I am making an exception.
That means that I am only telling you if you are hit, and what damage I have rolled. So you get to roll your own soaks for DR.

In terms of story-writing and continuity I guess we have three stages:
1. Your intention.
2. My description of your action and the effects.
3. Your reactions and next intention (so merges with #1 for next round)

I hope there is nothing amiss in any of the above, or in the way that your actions are depicted so far, however it is bound to happen at some point and we might just have to except it as a casualty of forum games.

Stunt/Challenge Guidelines
Essentially there are attack and defense moves that cost -2, -4 or -6 to hit.
(e.g. slash to the legs forces opponent to slow his advance or huge overhead chop causes opponent to retreat.)

There are also 'Stunts' where you combined a skill with a combat move. This is also in blocks of -2. (e.g. leap onto and off of a wall landing on someones back with a stab (Jump) or ride past someone leaping from the saddle into a flying grapple (Ride))

It's Risk vs Reward. You choose the penalty you are willing to take and that determines the possible reward. Then you just tweek the description to match!

So in example:
Run across snow, drop to knees and slash belly = -2
Charge across snow, tuck into low roll and spring up into an attack = -4
Charge across snow, diving into a roll between legs, slashing as you rise = -6

There's a fair few options with different benefits available. Just tell me what you're attempting (describe it) and how (skill used and level of penalty) and I'll tell you if it works.

Another thing you can do is 'exhaust' a stat. So if you want to really strain yourself and overuse a stat you gain a bonus, but then the stat is depleted for a while (e.g. Exhaust Strength to pick up a big log or Exhaust Wisdom to work out which way the tracks go)

With skill rolls in general: 1 is a 1 and 20 is 20, no auto-success or fail BUT is the roll does suceed or fail it's an exceptional one.

Rules and Rulebooks

Regarding the IH rulebook: I'm aware that there are some... "Issues" with it. It's not as neat and well edited as I would like and I suspect there's some major balance issues.
The only errata I've ruled in is the Armiger feat trees. I'm certainly going to look at the rest as it develops. And you guys are all welcome to bring stuff to my attention. However at first level (and frankly the number of games I have seen collapse on GITP) it's not really worth re-writing the rulebook.

The Armiger concept was just badly planned. It was a great idea but didn't do what it was intended to do. The Power feat is an important addition because you aren't going to attract attacks if no one bothers to hit you, because you just aren't dangerous enough!

If I said now exactly what I want in and out, I still might change my mind later (and once I've seen it used). Which I think is less fair than a more ambiguous "we'll see".

SO, IH original rules are the template, anything else needs to be agreed specifically.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare

The red-haired Avalanche tribesman winces as he strides along, working some of the feeling into his feet after resting, and losing the feeling in is face from the wind. A trade-off, but hardly an ideal one. Gathering his rough furs about himself a little closer, Noj flexes the leather glove on his right hand as he loosens up his fingers. No use being stiff-fingered when the Wendigo showed up. On a whim, Noj draws his short sword with a flourish, admiring for a moment the blackness of the blade. A smile creeps across his angular, whiskered face. Iron was rare among the Flat Folk, he'd found, which only made him prouder of the rough-forged blade. After a moment, he re-sheathes the blade once more, conscious of the need to keep the snow off its edge as much as possible
Making it almost a drill, Noj steps a few paces from the edge of the procession and lifts the sheathed blade blade in his right hand, arm fully extended behind himself. Like setting the snow on the peak before the thunder; that was how Noj likened it to himself. Nestling his leather-shod feet into the powdery snow whistling about the permafrost, Noj lets himself sink into a half-crouch. Snow on the ledge, ready for the thunder. With the slowest of motions, the Avalanche man lets the blade of the sword dip, his arm following the motion in a flowing way. Then, with a spring-like suddenness, the muscles in his calves bulge as his feet dig into the snow, propelling him forward into a headlong charge forward, enjoying now the biting wind whistling past the matted crimson locks of his hair. Fatigue would come later, but for now, there was joy in running like an Avalanche racing downhill.

[Helfdan]

A tall, rangy man dressed well-cured pelts, a long bow slung over one shoulder, studies the ground to the south of the column, his hard green eyes casting for sign. He straightens and his mane of wavy brown hair blows in the wind. Ingvar scratches at his short beard before adjusting the scabbard at his left hip and setting off with a mile-swallowing hillman's stride alongside the column, his bearing deceptively relaxed.

[Kain_Tempest]

Mynas Thyr, the Wild

"... It's faster..." Thyr murmurred to Faillune. "... We'll get to our spot a lot quicker..." No response from the weapon, at least none outside of the girl's head. "... Yeah, not really, but, it feels like it... It keeps me occupied... And I move faster..."

Moving along the northern flank of the Column, the young woman was picking steping across the large stones that poked out of the deep snow. Lots of people tended to just walk around, and get tripped up. Perhaps it was youth, or perhaps that she knew better, but Thyr was making a good clip, working to catch get back to her usual spot along side the middle.

A lash of wind whipped out from the north, ruffling her dark copper locks. She glanced towards the column and was glad she wasn't down wind. What an awful stench all these people could make.

She faltered on an angular rock, flailing her free arm to maintain her balance, the heavy backpack not making it any easier, moreso with the shield on top. Regaining her stance she continued at her usual brisk pace, one stone per foot. Occassionally, she had to lengthen her stride to make it to the next stone and occassionally she could feel the cool air touch her thighs when there was space between her warmers and her skirt. Her toes pressed against the bottoms of her fur-lined wraps. She smiled to herself, enjoying the wonderful feeling of dry feet.

"Better cold and dry." She mumbled again. Clearly Failune must have responed as she snapped, "I wasn't referring to you."

Steadying herself on another large outcropping, Thyr's eyes scanned for her next series of steps before the wind once again belted her. She pulled the black fur cloak tightly around herself and glanced around again, taking stock of her progress.

"See? We've already made good time. Look..." She nodded towards a familiar spot in the column, a small group on the northern edge, a bunch of tougher, older women, who had been sticking with the Column out of spite at that point, separated from their families by the the throngs or lost to the wilds. Those women were Thyr's panic line, when she was far out of her percieved region of the column. "... Probably another day before we get back to where we were before... I wish you could have woke me up..." She frowned after a moment. "... That would hurt."

Her blue eyes drifted far down to the ragged tail of this long beast. She saw a glimpse of a man taking long strides through the snow. She gave a grunt of approval. "Quick feet're good when you're lazy..." She commented and finally turned to look behind her at the northern side of the tail.

She pushed some hair away from her face to get a good look despite the wind, revealing the purple cross tattoed on the left side of her face. She squinted, spotting one of the dog sleds, and beyond it, a man coming down the slope at a full sprint.

"... Course there is a difference between quick feet and lack of brains..." She added. Again she frowned. "... I'm neither!" She argued, then turned and continued forward along the rocks.

[Gygaxphobia]

Egrek Rothkin

The young warrior sits proud and straight atop his heavy horse, eyes roving smoothly over the landscape, watching steadily for trouble from both within and without the stream of travellers. The five riders with him sit easily on their mounts, conversing in low tones and passing a smoking pipe between them.
Egrek watches the traveller approach solemly, six pairs of eyes on him. He nods once at his name, and again at the introduction but says nothing, regarding Helgak with little curiosity. There is the brief flicker of a smile at the mention of the woman.

"Thas a high price ter pay fer a woman." His voice is low and rolling, it rumbles like thunder at the end of a valley.
"Ya is she verth my horse too? I vill valk fer a gud vwomen!" A wild-eyed and red-faced rider behind him cackles at his joke with a honking laugh, showing rotten teeth. One of the others sniggers slightly, but they seem restrained.

"As fer help, ay doan see a man ay wants ta help, lessen ay see a man who helps hisself. Ya fall behind an ya stay behind.
"Ya say yer a killer, an a wolf hunter? Well lesseeya kill and hunt. This Journey'll be loosen more folk evry day now and ay got a mind to stop that where ay can.
"So ay'll feed ya and find ya some more men. And you watch what comes behind. Ay've got ova work ta do. We'll all be restin so ya wont get left when ya sleep. Talk ta Ulf here, an tell him who tha women were an what yer horse looked like. Then go and see the wild man ova there." He points uphill to the tall, rangy man with wavy brown hair, dressed in well-cured pelts. "I've got ma eye on that'un who can run like a stag."

He looks deep into Helgaks eyes and nods firmly, then kicks his heels to his horse and moves off fast, scattering the travellers as he pushes through to the north side and down the slope followed by four men.

The wild-eyed rider remains still, staring at Helgak. His frizzy red-orange hair seems as wild as he himself. The scale mail he wears across his chest and shoulders ripples as he moves. He throws a fur bundle at Helgak and then reaches into a sack. The fur is a small stole of the white-grey fur, bound with a bronze clasp to hold it around the shoulders.
Ulf grins and gestures with a chicken leg he has produced. He watches to see Helgak put the stole on while chewing the chicken then leans down and tosses the leg in a spin to him.
Ulf trots his horse slowly uphill towards the tracker. "So dis vwomen... vos she preety?" He grins lecherously.

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

Egrek and his four men thunder down the slope behind Noj, but have trouble catching upto him for fear of the horses slipping on the icy ground. They follow some twenty yards behind him for a half mile before they reach the flat plains.
Shouts of "Ya! Ya!" and "Heet! Heeyta!" encourage the horses to full gallop and they surround him, forming a wall of muscled flesh hemming him in and bring him to a halt slowly, just in front of where Mynas watches. The horses lather and pant, snorting clouds of air as their riders try to hold them still.

Egrek leans out and down, very low towards Noj, a puzzled frown on his face, knotting his thick brow.
"Ay know ya, doan ay?"

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Slowing to a walk once more, Noj breathes heavily, his breath forming great gouts of steam from his run. He grins up at Egrek and, tossing his blade nimbly to his other hand, tugs at a grubby red lock of hair.
" 'Course you do, Egrek! You gotten so snow-blind you don't recognize Old Man Onadare's son? I'm an Avalancher, and I fought the Wendigo, just like you. How the hell are you?"

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Looking down in his worn armor from atop the craggy ridge, an observer could mistake Grakka's hulking, iron-clad form for a boulder. Grakka raises and angles his shield to block the sun's harsh glare as he scanned the tree line and horizon for the Wendigo threat. Using his enormous glaive in his other hand as a walking stick, he continues to walk along along the edge of the hill.

Catching a glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye, Grakka rotates his head to look. He sees the fast moving form of a red-haired Avalanche tribesman running in the distance, followed by a handful of horsemen. It is just Noj. He must have more of the mountain fox in him* than anyone else on the Journey! As the riders catch up to Noj, Grakka recognizes them as Egrek's men, I wonder what Egrek wants with him. I better head over, before Noj gets in over his head. Grakka sighs heavily as he quickly sets off towards the group.


*Definition - A show-off


Spot check taking 20: 20+4 = 24

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar turns to the newcomer and narrows his eyes. One of Egrek's lads... but on foot?


"Ho and well met. I'm Helgak the wolf hunter, who be you?"

At Helgak's words, the fur-clad huntsman smiles a hard smile. "Quite a name you chose for yourself. I be Ingvar the Wolf." The green eyes were cold and hard as emeralds. "Trust me, you be wanting different prey. What does one of Egrek's boys be wanting with me?"

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar shakes his head at the others' bold speech, but cannot help but smile. He looks down the line and shrugs before replying in a low, rough voice. "I certainly have the time, as long as you keep up the pace." He slings his bow over his shoulder. "I did not choose the nickname. That is what people in my village called me, and it has stayed with me. I believe it was because I preferred hunting to logging or farming, and because I hunt best alone."

[Kain_Tempest]

Mynas Thyr, the Wild

Another rudimentary glance at the Column led to Thyr looking at Egrek's horsemen. She squinted to see what they were on about.
"Hmm... Never liked him." She gave a bit of a chuckle. "Though I did cut his ego down a few feet... Teach him to give me trouble... Because a bunch of..." She gave a grunt and glanced at the Column again and then looked at Egrek. "...Shouldn't do it if he grew some brains."
Thyr took another quick glance around her to try and find more rocks to go on. She was rather disappointed to find that her latest quick route had dried up. Looking back at the Column, she tried to see the gaggle of old hens that she was using as a gauge. She quickly looked away and decided to just watch the horsemen. Thyr wasn't in the mood to dive into the snow just yet and she had a feeling that Egrek's men would be wanting to see their band leader get humiliated by the 'Fringe Witch'.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Spot check [roll0]

A wolf hunter that does not know about Timber Wolves?? Ingvar sighed. "If you meet any of the survivors of Gniepr's Mill, you can ask them. But if you do not ride with Egrek's lads, why be you wearing one of their stoles?"

[Gygaxphobia]

Egrek Rothkin

His band of riders are a fairly generic breed of warrior: four men in thick bearskins and jerkins over tough looking lamellar leather armour. They carry longswords and hatchets at their belts as well as the shield and spear they ride with.

Egrek nods to Noj and smiles wide, his eyes showing genuine emotion. Still mounted his thick gauntleted hand reaches out and graps Noj firmly by the forearm in the old warrior greeting.

Without letting go he laughs "Ah-ha! Sow ya come ta join us then? Ay tol ya ay'd find im eh? Ay af ta ask though, ah ya strong enough to stay wit us?" With that he pulls hard on Noj, forcing him to take a step to keep his balance and trying to yank him off his feet...

Skill check, Riding vs Balance [roll0] Noj can use his STR mod instead of DEX if he likes.

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

Ulf

Ulf nods blankly at Helgak, not seeming to care particularly about the details. Watching him walk up the snow bank, he taps his horse to trot, following slowly some distance back.

He rides parallel to Ingvar and Helgak, watching carefully and most likely out of earshot. Only Helgak's loud laughter makes him raise his earbrows slightly.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj
[roll0]
Noj's grin falters for a moment as he is hoisted off his feet by the burly horseman, but he soon smiles again as he reaches out his other hand and uses the upward momentum to propel himself further up and over, turning a neat sumorsault in the air over the horseman's head...

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj
...And tries to stick the landing on the other side
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Gygaxphobia]

no More Posts Relating To Tono

See: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=2826339#post2826339

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf


The tall huntsman looked on as the talkative "wolf-hunter" spoke with the red-haired horseman, who had been pacing them. Once the dark-haired man walked away, Ingvar approached Ulf.

"So... you sent Helgak to speak to me. Why?"

[Gygaxphobia]

Noj
Noj's grin falters for a moment as he is hoisted off his feet by the burly horseman, but he soon smiles again as he reaches out his other hand and uses the upward momentum to propel himself further up and over, turning a neat sumersault in the air over the horseman's head....

Egrek tries to follow him through the air with some surprise. The yank he gave his horses reins to unbalance him seems to have given the athlete a boost, and Noj uses his free hand to push and vault off the horse.
With a half twist in the air and piked legs, Noj lands with a soft whump in a patch of snow with back straight and knees only slightly bent, absorbing the impact.

Egrek roars with laughter, clappy one meaty hand against his chest in applause. The other riders look on increduously.
"Ha-HA! My ay've missed you people! Avalanche men cant be beat for surprises!"
He dismounts and goes to clap Noj firmly on the shoulder. "Well now ya here, you can mevve show what ure worth. Ay need a rearguard for these people. They're gettin picked off slowly, but not tha slow really from behind. An when we go threw tha pass tha's only gonna get worse.
Ay can offa ya two meals a day -one ov em meat- and a good sleep every third"
He looks back at a warning cough from one of his riders, seeing Grakka heading towards them at a fair pace.
"Aye, word does get around eh? Who's this?" He calls out.

[Kain_Tempest]

Mynas Thyr, the Wild

Thyr gave an approving grunt as Noj twirled and landed on the other side of Egrek. She recognized him as the fool she had spotted before running like a maniac along the Column. Apparently he had a huge tick on his hind or he had something to prove to everyone.
Thyr debated approaching, but reminded herself that she was only there because she was taking a breather before forging ahead. Turning, she started forward again.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj carefully adjusts his furs a little more squarely about himself after his landing, but then looks up again with a crooked smile.
"You've a strong arm on you, Egrek, to hurl a full-grown man so lightly into the air!" He tilts his head to one side as Egrek puts forward his offer and then claps a hand to his chest.
"Rear guard? I can do that; good running space, and it'll only get better as we hit the hills. And...meat you say?" Noj laughs. "You've won Noj Onadare as your rear guard then, noble captain. Anyone working with me?" His question goes unanswered, however, as Grakk's presence is noted. Noj squints through the whistling wind, his hair tossed like dirty blood in the snow. "Well, by the Wendigo's Balls, is that Grakk of the Avalanche? Hell, Egrek, you've downed the bull of the herd today to get two Avalanche in one day."

[Gygaxphobia]

Ulf, Son of Ulf


Helgak then peers at Ulf with a frown, calling over to him. ... With that proclamation, Helgak begins jogging sturdily down the line, bypassing obstacles effortlessly and demonstrating no small amount of endurance.

Ulf's face hardens slightly and he appears about to reply, but his brow furrows and he settles for a scowl instead. He turns his attention to the sturdy tracker, looking uphill from the back of his horse as he approaches


Once the dark-haired man walked away, Ingvar approached Ulf.
"So... you sent Helgak to speak to me. Why?"

"Egrek Rothkin ist Thane here, und I am hees hirdman. It ver hee who sent dis Helgak to you. Had hee known how easy the man make to talk and give up hees troost, hee may not have." He scratches his wiry hair with a meaty hand and ***** his head to one side.
"I am Ulf, Son of Ulf from the Hall of Rig-Ulf in de Vale of All. If you vood take service vith us, you can be fed and rested. Egrek needs gud men. Come." He nods his head downslope and starts to turn his chestnut mount in that direction, down to the column to the north.

((OOC EDIT: Apparently I used a bad word! Shall we say he "tilts his head" instead?!))

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf


((OOC EDIT: Apparently I used a bad word! Shall we say he "tilts his head" instead?!))


OOC: That is hilarious!! Still lauging about it. Yet it is regrettable, as the word you meant to use has a different nuance than "tilts" does.

Ingvar walks alongside Ulf's steed, his keen eyes instinctively scanning the tree-line to the south. "I am Ingvar son of Hrothgar, but most call me the Wolf. I will meet your Thane."

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Grakka shouts, "Ho, Egrek! It be Grakka of the Avalanche!", as he jogs up to the group with his mighty glaive in both hands, doing a quick flourishing spin as he secures it to the back of his armor. "I see Noj is up to his games again. I thought it best to lend a hand; he needs some solid ground more than once a moonsturn."*

"What's this I heard about entrusting him with some work?" He laughs, "Har! I think you might be in want of another Avalanche with the sense of the mountain in addition to his speed of the wind. I've been wanting something to put my blades to work after spending so much time keeping others' in working shape." Grakka crosses his arms, looking prepared and expectant.


*Once in a moonsturn = fairly common


Spot check on the odd horseman: [roll0]

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj
The whiskered Noj snorts and rubs his nose with a gloved hand.
"Ha, Strategy, eh? Remember on Funsten ridge, when that band of Wendigo in formation got pushed right off the cliff by an avalanche into the freezing river hundreds of feet below? Remember the man who was the Avalanche?" Noj Onadare taps himself in the chest with the pommel of his sword and grins again.

[Gygaxphobia]

Egrek Rothkin

"Well met Grakka. Ay am Egrek Rothkin of the Avalanche, who left tha Kumsbin at fourteen to find a Journeyman. Tha ice ha thawed seven times since then, but now ay am here, moving past my old home in pursuit of the Journey.
"Ay would hear tales from tha Peaks, but ay'm needed elsewhere. There is some kind wind blowing tha ay've met you both when ay most needed ya though. Give me a moment."
Egrek turns back to his riders, leading his horse over and speaking with them for some minutes.

Ulf, Son of Ulf

Ulf leads Ingvar down the slope to the north, carefully turning his mount with his thighs and threading his way through a few people who are walking on the slope. From behind, his furs are seen to be the full pelt of a large bear. The head is still attached and hanging behind him. It looks curiously at Ingvar, upside down, baring it's teeth.
When they reach the flatter tundra there are more people to push through. They are limping, generally in ones and twos, loking tired and tattered. their are a few coughs and one or two moans. The back of the Column is moving past.

They come to the North side of the Column with ease, looking out onto the wide plain, far in the distance the Peaks reach upwards to where fog and icy mist meets pure white clouds.
Ulf and Ingvar have left the Column slightly further West than Egrek and the group. When Ulf sees this he waves to them, swirling his spear point in the air until they notice. Then he turns his horse and heads West, ever onwards.
"They vil catch up with us.", he says simply.

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

Egrek mounts up and beckons to Noj and Grakka to follow. The four horses set a fast striding pace to catch Ulf and Ingvar.
"Ho, good Ulf, what have you done with Helgak?" Egrek calls when close by.
Ulf looks over his shoulder without slowing "He vent to find his hoss, or maybe his voman eh?" He adds salaciously. "He vil send his cousin back to us."
"Will he now?" Egrek clenches his teeth "You know this do you? You fed him and he left?", he scowls, catching up to Ulf's side.
Ulf sounds less sure of himself. "Vell he sed that, yes."

Retaining his anger, but putting it aside, Egrek drops back slightly to look at Ingvar.
"Welcome hunter. Ay hope ma eye fer men is true, since ay've not been wrong afor. These two are Grakka and Noj, an ay hope you'll join them." He looks to Grakka and Noj.
""Ay say this ta all o ya. Ay mean to see that as many o these folk as can, will make this Journey to it's end. To that aim, ay need gud men ta watch their backs." He turns to look at Ingvar.
"What is ya name, and what say you?"

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
The lean swordsman glances over at Grakka.
"Who's that short streak of yellow, then?" he mutters. But then, shaking his head and brushing a dusting of snow from his hair, he turns to regard Ingvar curiously.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The tall huntsman looks Egrek in the eye. "I am Ingvar, son of Hrothgar. Men call me the Wolf. You do good work, Egrek. But I also have seen odd sign, and someone, or something, at the back of the column. I will help."

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Grakka regards Ingvar with cursory curiosity, but quickly returns his gaze to Egrek. Solemnly nodding, he responds, "Indeed - it is good to work with others of the Avalanche again. I would be honored to aid the safety of the Journey. Do you have any suggestions on what we should expect as the rearguard?" As if he just throught of it, he adds, "I would also like to know where the nearest forge be; I must keep up my craft, you know."

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj blinks and stares incredulously at Grakka, his hazel eyes holding a mixture of amusement and concern.
"You gone snow-crazy, metal-man? Look around you!" He sweeps a fur-garbed arm to encompass the slow and trudging procession.
"Is this any place where we'd have a forge? Even if we did, we've not got wood to waste on heating up iron when we're trying to keep ourselves warm."

[Gygaxphobia]

Egrek Rothkin

Egrek looks down from his silver-grey mare to regard his latest men, he nods at Ingvar. "Ay, you have tha right of it. An ay reckon yer a good man fer tha job.
Noj speaks true, though there is a forge carried up ahead, we cannot spare logs for it and we have no heatstone*
Just a moment..."

He looks up to regard Tono, impassive at his speech until he starts to walk away.
"Hold yerself still!" He calls. "Ya doant walk like ya have some right from me. Ay've given ya nothing! Ulf."

Ulf starts forward on his horse swiftly to come by Tono's side. "You owe me dat fur AND a meal."

Egrek turns back to Grakka "There is trouble within this Column, but that is people, as people are always trouble. Without it..." He looks back up the ridge, almost wistfully.
"This Journey has travelled long, but not far. It moved too slow. When ay found it afor last Thaw, ay changed that, and now we are halfway ta tha sea when afor we had hardly moved.
It is Mabon* now and yet we still cannot find ought fer food. But worse, since Imbolc* there has been clear attention on us. We have heard rumour that the Cadinoc raiders are on the move, but it is not they tha hunt us.
Whenever we are in closed land, there have been things skitterin and preying on the edges of the Column. Whenever we move to open tundra, tha Wendigo leap outa fog an blizzard and take us from all sides. We are hunted ay tell ya an careful travel is our only chance. Careful travel, and planning.

*OOC:
heatstone = coal/charcoal etc.
Mabon = Season of Earth's Bounty = Harvest-time
Imbolc = Season When The Rains Come = Spring.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar leans on his bow as he sees Ulf ride after Tono. He turns to Noj, Grakka, and Egrek, and speaks in his low, gravelly voice. "Good warriors, those of the Avalanche People. I hail from the Uthrac Highlands, west of the Kumbin Peaks. I knew I saw some strange sign... So, be you wanting us to track down the Wendigo?" Ingvar again scans the treeline.

[Gygaxphobia]

"Aye, they be that, but speed is our weapon now. Ay need ya ta keep our foe from our flanks and rear while we pass through the Spears of Rigthane." He points to the high twin peaks in front. "After that, we should be safe an may rest a while ta plan the next steps."

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf


The hunter looks back at the column of tired, ragged refugees. He was not present when Gniepr's Mill was razed. But he was ready now. He smiled grimly. "Then let us teach the Wendigo what it means to be prey."

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj beams, his offwhite teeth muted against the gray landscape.
"Three-man squad, eh? Sounds good. Seems a shame to lose sleep time by just walking back in the processon, though..." Noj leaves the hook in that statement dangling for a while.

[Kain_Tempest]

((Okay, this is going to seem a little unorthodox, but Gygax gave me a hook to go on which is enclosed in the post, just to give me something to post on.))


There is an area of more dispersed travellers here, spread out between two larger clumps.

A rickety wooden cart rattles along in the muddy furrows of previous travellers, bouncing to every lump in the way. Its load is partially covered with a sheet of woven wool. It comes to a halt when a wheel cracks in two under the strain and slumps to one side, twisting and creaking; and it digs a line in the earth before the beast pulling it halts.

The single female driver holds on to keep her balance and looks round in panic.

Without even missing a step, passers-by take items from the wagon: a sheepskin, a wooden bucket, a bunch of dry wood. It's done so casually that it almost looks like they are helping rather than stealing.

A group of three large men - bare-armed even in the cold - stop and pull back the cover to see what else there is. Seeing a small child emerge, one of them tosses him aside nonchalantly onto the hard ground, the woman screams as the child slumps on the ground.

One of the men shoulders a small wooden barrel, and the other two start digging around looking for valuables.

Thyr stopped and watched as the events transpried, wincing as the child was removed. She shifted her weight uneasily.

"There isn't that much safety down there than up here... These people are not clansmen, to me or each other... This is how outsiders get ahead, feeding off of carrion, even if it's still moving." Faillune remained ever silent, and she sighed. " 'They take what we give,' and I am not interested in spilling my blood for them... Besides..." Thyr touched the tatoo on her face. "It'll just make it a lot worse..." Faillune must have been protested as the woman furrowed her brow, looking carefully at the unfolding drama, her hand moving to take her shield from off her back.

[roll0]

[Gygaxphobia]

*Adds Stamp of Approval* And yes, my middle name is Unorthodox :)

OOC EDIT: The crack of the wheel makes a bit of noise and many walkers have to change their path to walk around the cart. It is certainly noticed by anyone paying attention.

[The Great Skenardo]

Is this occurring within the vision of Noj on Egrek? If so, does Egrek show a reaction?

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf


((Assuming Ingvar saw this, let me know otherwise))

The hunter turns at the sound, and immediately lopes towards the disturbance, bow in hand. He stops about ten feet from the scene. He subtly nods at the pretty woman with the mattock, before adressing the man who stole the barrel, a dangerous light in his emerald-hard eyes.

"That does not belong to you, dog. Put it back."

Intimidate (Browbeat) roll: [roll0]

[Helfdan]

roller didnt work, here we go again

[roll0]

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj scratches his chin. He didn't recognize the woman; she probably wasn't Avalanche. But then again, none of the thieves were Avalanche either. Tilking his lean face to meet Egrek's gaze, Noj grins.
"Gotta keep the peace, neh? Can't fight the Wendigo if we do half their fighting for them!"
Drawing his shortsword, Noj scans the crowd for the thieves and prepares to dash off after them.

[roll0]

[Gygaxphobia]

Ulf reels, surprised at how he is spoken too, a puzzled frown across his forehead.
He cannot quite muster his anger and his admonisher has stalked off before he can think of a reply. He turns and looks back to Egrek some yards behind him.

Egrek calls a rider over and then looks hard at Noj "Dontcha worry none Avalanche, every third day ay'll send a sled back for yous all. Then ya can sleep and ha a fire for as long as the sun's up*. We'll take ya place at tha back. Otha days yall ha ta rest when ya can."

His rider comes over while Egrek watches Ulf and Tono. "Dangerous...," he whispers looking at Tono, "but who too? If he want him, have him. Otherwise...", he is distracted as Ingvar stalks over to the cart, and sits frowning at the ruckus as Noj rushses off to join him.


The barrel slips slightly from the thief's hand as he turns to Ingvar. Red-faced, he splutters and shifts on his feet.
The two men with him start with shock at Ingvars voice and both turn, one of them whips a long bone-handled knife out and levels it. "We wer ere first! Get back to ya motha!"
The other men start to pull hatchets from their belts.

Ingvar gains one Tactical Token

*Note: It's mid-Autumn (Mebon) so you get 8-9 hours of daylight a day.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The huntsman does not answer. He gracefully takes an arrow from the quiver at his back, nocks, and lets fly at the man with the knife. Though he seems to be focusing only on his shot, he can visualize the whole battlefield in his mind.



Initiative [roll0]
Attack [roll1]
If the knifeman has any cover, Ingvar will use his token to decrease the cover bonus by one
As a move action, Ingvar will get another Tactical Token with his Hunter's eye
Damage [roll2]

[Gygaxphobia]

*Everyone roll initiative and declare your actions (unless already done so)*

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Seeing the violence break out, Noj lightly tosses his black blade back into his right hand, holding it like a dagger. With almost a kick in the air, he charges forward, barrelling down on the second thief with alarming speed.
EDIT: This is what will happen next round, nothing being changed. this coming round, Noj will simply approach as fast as he can.
The one with the knife's who I got to worry about right now, Noj thinks

Dodge on the knife-wielder
[roll0]
AC21 vs AoO

Charging directly past the knife-holder, Noj drops to one knee and propells himself past the man like an arrow, flying horizontally through the air, trying to plant his sword between the neck and collarbone of the second thief, hauling him off his feet and to the ground.

[Kain_Tempest]

[roll0]
((Standard action to fasten the shield to her arm and move action to draw Failune <Heavy Pick> and designates 'Man with Barrel' for dodge pool. As a free action, designate 'Man with Barrel' for weapon pool.))

"Now's the time..." Thyr mumbles to no one in particular, pulling the shield off her back and sliding it onto her left arm. She then draws Faillune from the loop in her belt, adjusting her grip to weild with one arm. She then looks to one of the thugs holding a barrel.

The sound of one of the thieves just annoyed her for some reason. It was one thing that they were just a bunch of pathetic jackals, but also something more. Further, their drawing of weapons was all the justification she needed. The arrival of some good samaritans helped. If things went well, she may even get a reward out of the poor woman... Or not, but Faillune was getting thirsty, so why not.

Her eyes were fixed on the target, and she seemed to become less aware of everything around her. He wouldn't live to see the next sunrise if the cosmos saw things her way.

EDIT: ((Changed target after looking at the battle map in the OOC channel.))

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Grakka growls, "Times such as this make men into beasts - I canna be permitting this crime under my watch." Saying this, Grakka barrels forward, drawing his glaive from his back in a smooth, sweeping motion.

Full round action to cover 4X30 feet, getting into range (with the 15 foot distance because of the superior range of the reach weapon and he can 5 foot step on the following action).

[roll0]
[roll1] (taking into account the Inspire Courage)
[roll2] (taking into account the Inspire Courage)
[roll3] (taking into account the Inspire Courage)
[roll4] (taking into account the Inspire Courage)

[Gygaxphobia]

Actions resolved:

Grakka (Initiative 19) turns and starts to move, but Noj (Initiative 13) soon catches him, his powerful thighs eating the ground. Grakka is hot on his heels, his armour rattling but not seemingly to impede him at all.

Ingvar (Initiative 15) continues his smooth drawing action, plucking his bow softly like a harp.
A feathered flight appears high up in the chest of the knife-wielder, his coughs blood and wheezes, staggering to his knees.

Man with Barrel - drops his barrrel onto the edge of the cart, holding his hatchet up hesitantly.
Make with Hatchet - sees the warriors charging towards him and scrambles back over the cart away from them, seeking cover from the archer.

Thyr (Initiative 10) - already managed to draw her shield onto her arm - and now takes up her pick, striding forward.

Tono (Initiative 8) - drops his spear and takes up a soulful tune on his pipe (everyone gains Inspire as described until Tono's next action).

*Next Actions please*

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Impassively, Ingvar again nocks and lets fly at the man with the hatchet. He then turns to the man with the barrel and growls. "If I were you I would drop that axe, pigface!


Hatchet guy:
Attack [roll0] Total 13
Damage [roll1] Total 8
Barrel guy:
Intimidate (Browbeat]as a move action, -5 skill challenge [roll2]

IF hatchet man is dead before my turn, Ingvar will nock an arrow, but use Intimidate (browbeat) as a standard action against barrel guy
[roll3]

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
With a grin, Noj adjusts his pace to match the rhythm of the flute tune that floats through the biting breeze. Slowing his pace slightly as he approaches the wagon, Noj leaps up onto the top of the half-looted wagon, takes one bound forward and pivots on his booted foot as he lands. Whirling around, Noj sinks into a crouch and brings his extended arm around with astounding force at the bandit's head.

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Upon arriving at the cart, Grakka spits at the man with the hatchet, "Goat offal and donkey piss - all'eh yeh!" Grakka swings a large, overhand strike that cuts diagonally down-and-across at the man

Grakka moves forward, into range (10 feet away because of reach weapon), and will attack the 'Man With Hatchet'. My AC is currently 13.

[roll0] (taking into account the Inspire Courage)
[roll1] (taking into account the Inspire Courage)

Of course, that's if the old roll doesn't count >.>

[Kain_Tempest]

((Dissolve standard action into an additional move. Position myself directly south (to the left) of the 'Man with Barrel'. The double-move should me more than enough to get there in this turn.))

Weapon Pool = 0 tokens
Dodge Pool = 0 tokens

Thyr hunches forward and rather than charging directly at her target, she begins to hustle around to the far side of the wagon, trying to corner her target between his friends, the cart, and the see of angry men coming at him. Her eyes never break their focus as she moves effortlessly through the snow and mud.
She remains perfectly silent as she closest the distance and stands at his flank, her shield up, and Faillune held behind her, waiting for him to open himself up first.

[Gygaxphobia]

Actions resolved:

Grakka (Initiative 19) sees one man scramble over the cart trying to hide and so strides forward a few paces towards the man putting the barrel down. He hefts and chops down with his huge polearm but the fellow steps back a pace with a look of terror in his eyes, narrowly avoiding being hit.
((Sorry, but I have to use your second set of rolls. It would be a bad precedent to set if you knew what your roll was before deciding your next action.))

Impassively, Ingvar (Initiative 15) again nocks an arrow. Seeing his target partly covered by the cart as he leaps away, he drops to a knee and looses. The arrow skims under the raised (higher) front of the cart catching the man in the upper thigh and blood sprays.
((Assuming use of 2 Tactical Tokens to reduce cover))
He then turns to the man with the barrel and growls. "If I were you I would drop that axe, pigface!"

The remaining man held at bay by Grakka's glaive waves his hatchet in front of him to ward off attacks, he nervously looks about him.
Although many people are fleeing past, there is a small crowd gathered watching the skirmish with interest.

Noj (Initiative 13) bounds onto the cart and lands with one bent leg to compensate for the cart's instability. In an instant he sees the man downed by Ingvar's arrow on the other side then steps again and pivots, taking another leap, changing targets. He launches himself forward into a dive and rolls past the remaining thief. Looking forward into the distance his hand slashes out to the side, his scimitar biting a deep wound across the rib cage from back to front.

((I used a Tumble Attack Stunt with -4 penalty. Please make a few d20 rolls on these sort of actions, even if you're not sure you'll need them! As you can see I made three, but only needed two))
http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1140014
http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1140020

Thyr (Initiative 10) jogs around the cart from the west, circling the thief. She sees a figure breathing his last, a fletched arow protruding from his upper thigh and a mess of blooded snow around him.
The final thief is yelping weakly, wounded by Noj and swaying backwards from the two warriors.
As Thyr moves to surround him, she sees the crowd looking on. There is a gasp from them, and a shout of "Cadinoc! Look out!"* they begin to look aggressive.
((please do a description of Thyr in your next post for the other players.))

Tono (Initiative 8) grins "And now... for the really fun part!" and leaps alongside Grakka, now surrounding the fellow on three sides with Noj. Skipping past the thief's wild slashes* he grabs at the man and not getting hold of anything settles for a brutal stab in the kidneys.

The blood is dark, red, artereal. He spasms violently and collapses in a heap.

((*seriously wild slashes, this is the opposed attack roll versus your tumble to avoid AOO. I always roll 3 dice just in case I need them. http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1140028 ))
*Cadinoc raiders are a pillaging tribe or clan, one of many enemies to most, especially low-landers - See OOC thread for fuller description

Egrek, Ulf and the other hirdmen are trotting up behind you all, making no effort to involve themselves.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj tosses his black iron blade from one hand to another with a flourish and sheathes it. Straightening up, he uses a handful of snow to dab the worst of the blood splatters from his arms and blade. Passing his other hand through his long dirty red hair, Noj grins at his newfound allies. His face is weather-beaten, the skin leathery and tough-looking. With his angular features, it would be hard to call him handsome, but there is a vivacity about him that lends attractiveness where beauty certainly could not.
"Whoo..." he breathes, "Quick fight. You guys is pretty good!" His lean unshaven face breaks into a grin. "Hate thieves. There's little enough gone around without us making it even less."

He blinks once or twice as Thyr appears at the edge of the battlefield, and he peers closer, noting her red hair.
Who's this? An Avalancher I don't know? What's that tattoo on her cheek...?

[Kain_Tempest]

((Gygax suggest that now would be a good time to give physical descriptions now that we have all seen each other, so I guess I gotta blow the wad. And get your mind out of the gutter Malach! :smallsmile: ))


As Thyr moves to surround him, she sees the crowd looking on. There is a gasp from them, and a shout of "Cadinoc! Look out!" they begin to look aggressive.

Thyr felts a knot in her stomach as she heard those words. She felt like even more of a fool for jumping into the melee when already this bunch of savages. If she lived through this, beating her skull in with a large rock would either knock some sense into her, who allow her to die with what little honour and respect from her ancestors that she could salvage. But pummelling herself could come later.

Breaking eye contact with what would have been her prey, she glanced around at those around her. Already the cavalry was one its way and she had just seen how quickly the foot soldiers could decimate a trio of salvagers. Already Faillune was running off ideas that could be quickly squelched. There were very few creative ways she could flee this situation and not be cut down en route.

She thought about a similar situation as this was back with her clan. Getting picked on by the other raiders for a plethora of various reasons, picking the wrong profession, being of higher social rank, being born a girl, but they always believed numbers could win. Sometimes it did, but sometimes... She quickly scanned her eyes across those present. Her eyes settled upon the smaller man who had quickly eviscerated one of the thieves and then quickly to the man in the heavy armour. She would have to be extremely careful about those two. The sound of the crowd made the situation all the more dire, she had to get clear, she would have to single out the targets somehow.

A tactical retreat was in order.

While her mind was going over the possibilities and quickly developing a strategy, she remained in her stance like a coiled spring, ready to do whatever was necessary, she had pivoted herself to face the majority of the enforcers while her blue eyes quickly switched from the armiger to the flute player.

Her red shoulder length rustled in the wind along with the heavy black fur cloak. The shield she faced towards the group was scarred and pocked with numerous gashes from previous conflicts. Occassionally there was the silvery glimmer of her peculiar weapon, a two headed axed which both tapered to fine points. Occassionally the movement of the wind would reveal purple tattoos patterned onto the woman's upper arms and a similarly coloured cross on her beautiful face, centred just below her left eye.

Those not into faces did not have much difficulty seeing beneath the cloak, given her stance. Her stomach and arms were strong and hard, looking as if they had been carved from ice. Her feminine portions were shapely and enticing, her hips wide, legs long, and limbs no less taut as her upper body. Truly a blessed physical form, over which was the leather breastplate she wore, along with snow fox tail that contrasted on her dark fur skirt. Between her leggings and the skirt, the truly perverted could see a glimpse of purple whorls tattooed on her thighs.

To some, she was the picture of many stories of the lovely amazon, but to others, the tattoos emblazoned on her skin were a challenge to the world. They proclaimed her a warrior, a leader, and one who had thrived in the cruelest of Myrian cultures. She was a Cadinoc, enemy to all, and she was looking for a fight.

[Helfdan]

Invar the Wolf

The tall, rangy man dressed in well-cured pelts slung the bow over his shoulder, then stood straight and looked around. He had a mane of brown hair and a short yet full brown beard. His eyes were green and frosty. His lean face was somewhat weather-bitten, but not unhandsome. He gazed upon the Cadinoc woman with both curiosity, and open admiration of her physique. He then grunted as he knelt by the fallen child.

Ingvar uses his heal skill to examine, and if possible, aid the boy
[roll0]

Without looking up from the child he answers in a low but firm voice.
"I am Ingvar the Wolf. Hunter and warrior from the Uthrac Highlands."

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar tears off a piece of a dead man's shirt, and packs it with snow. He applies it to the child's head, and wraps it with a strip of hide. He then turns to the mother. "Leave it until it melts. Then apply another one at morning, noon, dusk, and midnight for the next two or three days." He then looks to the ground, grumbles, and removes a large piece of dried elk from his pouch -- unbeknownst to all the last of his rations. "Keep him warm, and keep him fed. Otherwise he shall die." He then stands to take in the crowd around the statuesque warrior-woman, his hand surreptitiously dropping to his swordhilt.

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr is taken somewhat aback by this little man's boastful claims. He looks a lot younger than her and if there was an outsider that the Cadinoc would treat as an equal, she would have heard about it.

The part about beards was a difficult one not to even smile at. Taking a quick glance at the situation, it seemed that everyone had been calming down. At least, those that mattered most.

Her guard still up, Thyr began inching away slowly, moving to a position in which she could get away from the crowd.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
The Lithe swordsman with the tangled red hair listens on, at first with interest, and then with bemusement as Toro spins his stories about the Cadinoc. He'd heard similar stories. Hell, he'd even told a few.

With a rueful shake of the head, Noj secures his sword-sheath back on his back by a couple of long worn leather straps. The biting wind whistles around the edges of the close-fitting hide-wrapped shoes Noj wears as he strides a little ways forwards.

"S'right!" he calls, bearing down on the woman as she backs away. "You've all heard what they're like; who ever heard of a Cadinoc without a horse, and alone? She'd have to be berserk to try and take on the whole train by herself."

Noj laughs at her raised shield and cautious retreat. "And does she look berserk to you? Now, c'mon! We're not getting any further towards the warm by standing around jawing!"

[Gygaxphobia]

The crowd of people certainly seem agitated. Of around a dozen, a few are brandishing wooden cudgels and some of the rest grasp walking sticks with white knuckles.
Other travellers hurry past, skirting around the confrontation and rushing onwards but there is less panic once it is realised that there is only one 'raider'.

There is some murmuring after Tono's words. One or two look offended, but seeing him joined by the armoured warrior and the two burly hirdmen, decide not to take it up with Tono.
"But she got the inkings on her, look!" calls someone from the crowd. "Aye, look at tha colours." Joins another voice.
"I seen those on a mountain man, they gets em from mushed flouras"
"Is it?"
"Aye"
"An I erd there was a wild woman painted herself with chalk an stone from a riverbed over tuther side of tha Blue Fens."
"By tha Juvish Pines?"
"Aye"
The tension seems to break down into argument, and one or two drift off when the chance for violence has passed. The crowd disperses and hurries to find their place in the Column again.

Egrek looks on from behind, with a slight smile.
"Ay were right then. Yall all do fer me hirdmen an rearguard. Tono! You keeps that fir an you know what it means, eh? Or ya give it back an sing fer yer supper like last night.
Yull join us too eh lass? Whas yer name?" He calls to Thyr.
Ulf and another rider hold up fur stoles for each of you and proffer them down to you from their horses.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar turns back to the child's mother. "Remember my instructions!"
He steps up to Ulf and accepts the stole, placing it above his fur-lined cloak. As he attaches the bronze pin, he looks in curiosity at the tattoed woman.

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr's jaw clenched as Noj stood in front of her. His voice annoyed her, but his height was intimidating. The further press my the little man didn't help either. He seemed like a runt in a rut, something she never thought she would combine. Either way, she would prefer to be threatened by a giant than gawked at by that little terror.

When the crowd began to disperse in their pointless arguments, Thyr finally relaxed, her shoulders sagging with her exhilation. With the inhale she combosed herself straightening her stance and attaching Failune back to her hip, the weapon being more than happy not have to get messed and losing a handler that could clean it properly.

She looked up at Egrek and gave a small nod. "Mynas Thyr... Most call me 'Wild One'." She said. Her face was straight and without humour or welcome. This was business, and they weren't friends. "What's in it for me?"

In the back of her head, Thyr was chastising herself for even telling them her name, let alone giving any interest in joining this band of misfits. But again, she rationalized her current situation. She had already tried to get involve in the fight, what stopped them from suspecting that she was planning to steal the goods from themselves. Outsiders always assume the worse when things don't go their way. Furthermore, as much as she wanted to get back to her spot along the column, there was now going to be rumours moving about involving a Cadinoc. Even with all of the evidence against it, eventually someone with intelligence will realize the truth and hunt her down like a rabid dog. At least if she took a position among the authority, she could at least have some protection. But she wondered how good the deal actually was.

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Grakka's mighty swing misses the man, slamming into the ground with a loud report. Grakka yanks the enormous head out of the ground, slapping the side of the glaive's haft, shaking lose the stuck dirt. Damn it! I could have sworn I was to easily connect, but fate demanded another action take its place! At least I was able to prevent further harm from coming to this innocent mother and child. Feeling assured of the safety and care of the child by observing Ingvar, Grakka secures his weapon on his back. Catching sight of the near-commotion, he approaches the group speaking with the tatooed, red-haired woman.

The mountain-sized man walks up, his thick armor seeming unusually light and smooth on his large frame. His brown eyes seem to immediately take stock of the area, quickly sweeping around before landing on Mynas Thyr. He speaks, "I am Grakka," quickly tilting his head in Noj's direction, "my acrobatic friend here is Noj - we are of the Avalanche people. You seem quite on edge - at the very least, I can assure your safety. You were quick to come to the aid of these unfortunate victims." Continuing with an implying edge, "One would assume the safety of the Journey, and the many souls on it, would be reward enough." Returning to his casual dialog, "However, Egrek has promised us some help in return, as I'm sure he can detail himself."

Reaching out a gauntleted hand, "That tatoo work is quite fascinatin', me girl. Beggin' meh pardon, but by what are you on the Journey, and where be you from? Bein' an Avalanche man, I grew up in the the Kumsbin Peaks," pointing off in the distance with his other hand, "where I learned ta' harness the strength o' the mountains. Your bowwork was quite impressive - I only wish fate hadn't conspired to stop my work through its strict rules on our lives."

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj
Noj rolls his eyes as Grakka makes his introductions. But he continues where Grakka left off
"...and Egrek's said it'll be two meals a day, meat in one of 'em, and good sleep ev'ry third day. He's got a sled, he says. It's a good deal, for a man who's only good at killing. There's also this;" He tugs at the while stole about his shoulders.

[Kain_Tempest]

((Gonna try something a little different, see how it fits. Now, the blue text is all in Thyr's head.))

The armoured man spoke.



"I am Grakka," quickly tilting his head in Noj's direction, "my acrobatic friend here is Noj - we are of the Avalanche people. You seem quite on edge - at the very least, I can assure your safety. You were quick to come to the aid of these unfortunate victims." Continuing with an implying edge, "One would assume the safety of the Journey, and the many souls on it, would be reward enough." Returning to his casual dialog, "However, Egrek has promised us some help in return, as I'm sure he can detail himself."

Reaching out a gauntleted hand, "That tatoo work is quite fascinatin', me girl. Beggin' meh pardon, but by what are you on the Journey, and where be you from? Bein' an Avalanche man, I grew up in the the Kumsbin Peaks," pointing off in the distance with his other hand, "where I learned ta' harness the strength o' the mountains. Our bowwork was quite impressive - I only wish fate hadn't conspired to stop my work through its strict rules on our lives."

Thyr looked over her shoulder at Grakka as he continued. She hadn't been with this bunch a day and already some were getting on her nerves. Noisy one isn't he? Methinks he has more to prove than that red-headed giant. Faillune observed. Thyr was about to say something when Noj spoke up.



"...and Egrek's said it'll be two meals a day, meat in one of 'em, and good sleep ev'ry third day. He's got a sled, he says. It's a good deal, for a man who's only good at killing. There's also this;" He tugs at the while stole about his shoulders.

Thyr looked from Noj to Egrek and nodded. "If what the Avalancher says is true, then I will join." She proclaimed. Which Avalancher? Oh of course I know, but you seem to be selling yourself short. Whatever happened to getting to the bell again? We could have been making plenty of money giving these rats like that kid a long embrace with death.

At around that point Tono was talking away again and drew Thyr's attention away from the Thane. Oh please, not the runt again. At least when you die, you'll never have to hear something like that again. The weapon sighed.

Tono was approaching her periphery. The movement caught he mid sentence and she looked at the short man as he came in very close. He wouldn't.


(Tono) all but swoops down upon Mynas Thur, nimbly roping his slender arm around her much more formidable shoulder and guiding her a few paces away from the rest of the party.

He did.

As soon as Tono touched Thyr her body tensed and she glared down at the man. He couldn't hear Faillune so the the cries of 'Run, you idiot!', were silent. The second, her overall posture and the holes she was burning into him with her eyes were completely ignored as he continued to gab as if they were friends. The third would be pretty clear to Faillune's guess.

"No!" Thyr cried, cutting him off somewhere in his discussion of a 'chat'. Pulling out of Tono's grasp and shoving him away. She stumbled back a few paces, short breaths coming from between clenched teeth. Well, that's a show stopper. Now for the finale, my dear? Thyr took a deep breath to compose herself, locking eyes with Tono. In a clear and even voice, she spoke, "Don't touch me."

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
The lean warrior with the dark red hair grimaces as Toro makes his move. Moving with almost unnatural quickness, Noj removes the white stole Egrek had given him and reverses it, so that it sits hide-side outwards on his shoulders. No sense in getting blood all over the white fur in the first ten minutes you've got it, Noj thinks to himself as he takes a step forward.
"Damn, minstrel! For all that you've got the mountan fox in you, you're heading towards getting your flute snapped clean in half!" Letting the double-entendre linger in the air for a moment, Noj continues "You try and tumble with that one, and you're gonna lose something." He looks at Toro with a measure of disgust. That wasn't how you won a woman; you'd have to impress her and make her think the world of you, not try to ooze between her furs.
Noj continues
"'Sides, boy, remember what happened to your uncle? Yeah. Only worse."
He knew he shouldn't be doing this; she wasn't Avalanche, so he shouldn't care...but there was something about the red hair. He'd never seen anyone besides an Avalanche with hair like that. Damn.
Noj reaches forward a sinewy hand, with the purpose of hauling the minstrel back upright.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The tall huntsman shook his head. The small man was a fool. This bandit-woman was dangerous as she was comely. He muttered in an annoyed tone. "Some people seem to have forgotten the Wendigo at our heels..."

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr stares at Noj's face for a second, her face turning from surprise to outright anger as Tono just his heel in and started talking. I know that look Thyr. Just because he's right in front of you doesn't mean you should rip off his face... Faillune warned from on her hip.

As soon as the runt retreated, Thyr immediately pulled herself off Noj and looked around for the scoundrel. She started after him but stopped and looked all the audience to the whole thing. She then noticed that her cheeks were hot. Oh cosmos, you're... Thyr immediately looked away from the hirdmen and the rest of the group, her face flush with embarrassment.

Her jaw locked like a vice, she looked up again to find Tono completely gone from her view and immediately looked back down at her feet, her fists clenched in white knuckled fury. Well, that was exciting, but I think it's about time we just forget about the little mongrel. Ancestors know that the cosmos will give him divine retribution... Yeah, what he doesn't know can hurt him, but it just goes to show. Look before you leap... Something tells me you'll need to learn that lesson too... No, I don't mean to insinuate... Bah, just... Just get back to normal...

Thyr took a deep breath and a long exhilation before lifting her head and brushing her locks away from the right side of her face. One would notice her hair tended to fall in such a way to conceal the tattoo on her face.

She scanned the crowd again, passing across every and linger a few seconds on Noj before looking away to nothing in particular, not say a word.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj hauls himself up onto his elbows and winces, putting a hand on his stomach. That Thyr woman had some hard knees. Bringing himself back to his feet, his face can be seen to be flushing red as well, but with an altogether different emotion behind it. Noj cracks his knuckles and stares after the minstrel.
"Blow that, 'brother.' " He snarls, although Toro was already out of sight.
"You cross my path again today, I'll castrate you and make you ****in' eat 'em!" That said, the red-haired Avalancher begins brushing snow off of himself, carefuly avoiding Thyr's gaze.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar sighs and speaks up. Though not loud, his rough voice is clearly heard. "Let us get going, then. We all have work to do, no time for this bear****. The small rogue can follow an he wants." As he walks by Minas Thyr, he pauses. "That is a fine, if unusual weapon. Who forged it?"

[Gygaxphobia]

Egrek

The group of riders continue their slow trot along the line. Coming close up behind the four warriors they stop with Egrek at their head, watching Tono start to lose himself in the few travellers at the back. The Column has nearly completely passed now.
Egrek looks down to Noj and Thyr. "Ay doan know what that were about, but I see one of my hirdmen walking away from his responsablities. An it's ure look-owt ta make him stick ta them. Or find me another to wear my fur. We'll be back afor nightfall ta feed ya an see that ya don as told." He looks forward again. "Best hurry afor ya lose him." He looks back to the cart. "Get that moving or bury it, and that carrion too. Else we start teaching all the world what an easy meal we are."

The riders snap their reins and the horses break into a canter, moving swiftly off onto the left side of the Column.

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr sighed and looked around. What a mess things were. Even though she didn't know who was going to be in charge, she decided that the best course was to start giving orders.

"You, Ingvar, was it? Go catch that clown before he buggers off and causes more trouble." She looked to Grakka and Noj. "And you two, help me bury and salvage what we can from the dead." She looked to the wagon. Best we leave that for last. If anything it can be turned into firewood. Her pick suggested.

Since she didn't have a shovel of any sort to clear the frozen ground, she would have to rely on some kind of cutting instrument and she was definately not going to damage Faillune like that. Kneeling next to one of the fallen, she picked up one of the hatchets. Unless they found something better, it was the only thing they could use.

Standing up, she looked around and tried to determine the best place to bury the dead.

((Survival check to find soft ground that can easily be dug.))
[roll0]

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj
Squaring his jaw, Noj seems about to reply...but then he clamps his mouth shut and stalks to the dead bodies, rifling through their stuff, looking for anything of value. He looks speculatively at the beast pulling the cart and then at the woman who was driving it. "You got a spare wheel to fix this thing?" he asks.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The huntsman from the Uthrac Highlands was not as controlled as the swordsman of the Avalanche people. "By the Snow Behemoth's balls, woman! Nobody orders me around! And as I said before, I care not at all for that rogue. Go find him yourself!" He then struggles to calm himself as he checks once more on the hurt child.

[roll0] Heal check

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr turned to look at Ingvar. She was about to snap at him, but Faillune quickly reminded her that these weren't raiders, they were outsiders. They didn't know how to pronounce duty, let along know or follow the meaning. Diplomacy was the only course.

"Look at it this way. He's shirking his duties and is taking one of Egrek's stoles. I'm sure he will only get into more trouble and that is going to end up coming back to us. If you want to go without a few meals, that's fine by me, but right now..." She pointed to the bodies with the head of the hatchet. "These bodies need to be removed..." She pointed the wagon. You know, you're just gonna smack someone in the face with the flat of that axe, or worse, the way your luck is going... " And that wagon is either rolling, or kindling..." She rested the axe on her shoulder. "It takes three strong arms to get that done in a decent amount of time." She lifted the axe and pointed it at Ingvar. "And you have another think coming you want me to go after that little lecher."
"We need that stole or the loser wearing it. Either way, you fit the niche. Call it a request if it helps your ego. So when you're done, please find the bastard." Thyr turned away and headed to where she felt would be the best place to start digging and begins to break up the earth with the hatchet.

((I imagine that the DM doesn't have to give me the result of the survival check, and I will have to learn it the hard way whether or not I found suitable burial ground. As for the speech, I will forgo a diplomacy check unless anyone feels it's necessary.))

[Gygaxphobia]

Ingavr approaches. The woman sits by the cart on the cold, wet, earth, clutching her unconscious son and weeping softly, heedless of the ice seeping into her bones.
She only moves to let Ingvar tend to the boy some more. The boy will certainly come around soon, but his immediate needs are food and warmth.

Thyr finds no soft earth nearby, and thinks the nearest place would be a mile back by the pine trees.
However seeing the snow is deepest at the base of the hills,and unlikely to melt for some time, she digs there, thinking that will do provided it is enough to cover the scent. The hard earth can be broken enough so that the blood seeps into the dirt rather than the snow.

Noj realises just how poor the thieves were. Besides their sleeveless ragged jerkins and hatchets, they each have only a small cloth bag. This contains some stale bread and a single stick of dark jerked meat, slightly chewed.
The cart contains several sheep skins and a small hide tent (teepee style). The small barrel rest of the edge, along with one another like it. There is a sack of seeds and dried fruit (food enough for eight meagre meals).
There is one unusual object: a small round pouch with a knotted leather tie. This pouch is finely furred and slightly silky, the inside is rubbery skin - apparently waterproof - and contains a fine silken line with several hooks and feathers, most likely used for fishing.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The tall man wraps the infant in sheepskins, and places him on the mule. He then retrieves the bags of food and the remaining skins from the cart and ties them to the mule's harness. After cutting the animal free, he turns to the woman. "Your son will live, and grow strong, if you keep him fed. Now you best get going, woman, or you both will die for sure. That elk was the last I had, but when I am with the column, let me know if the whelp needs food. Now go!"

He then looks around to find the small rogue. Damn that Cadinoc woman! If he left the column, of course I can track him. But should he have mingled with the others, the tracks will be long gone.
He scans the nearby column, as well as the treeline, for sign of the minstrel -- and also to make sure the woman gets moving.

Spot check [roll0]

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Straightening up from his search, Noj shakes his head. He looks at the solitary mother and child on the mule, and wraps up the food he'd plundered from the thieves. He tosses the bag to the mother, lightly, and then turns away.
She can load up what she wants to keep from the wagon, and with me getting two meals a day, I can afford to be kinda generous, even if she isn't Avalanche.

With a grunt, The lean warrior strides over to help Thyr toss the bodies into deep snowdrifts, covering them over with fresh packed snow. His manner suggests that he's handled arctic funerals like this before.

[Gygaxphobia]

He scans the nearby column, as well as the treeline, for sign of the minstrel -- and also to make sure the woman gets moving.

The woman looks at Ingvar with frail, soulful eyes and leads the donkey onwards, whispering softly to her child. The beast's step is straight and firm, and the mother leans heavily on it.

The backs of the travellers are some way distant, and the wind has picked up, scattering snowflakes in whirls across the path. The minstrel is not in immediate sight.

[Kain_Tempest]

After the work is done, Thyr uses some snow to rinse her hands and dries them on her skirt. She looked down at the the grave and then over her shoulder to the retreating form of the mother. Her eyes then set to the wagon.
"Anything useful left in the wagon? We should clear it before chopping the thing up."

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar looks at Tono, then spits. He then looks Minas in the eye. "There's your small friend. Now I shall get back to my "niche"... finding sign of our foe." He then adresses the whole group. "Time to earn our board. I shall range no more than one hundred yards away to look for sign. I suggest you follow the caravan, keeping it in sight." The tall man then lopes away into the tundra, alert for danger.

Looking for sign: Survival 1d20+5 Spot 1d20+5
Listen 1d20+5

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj shakes his head at Thyr's question. "Not much. She took what was worth taking; the food and the fish-net. I think she will be dead soon, but..." he shrugs. "My generosity's got limits. She's not Avalanche."
Noj's back was to the minstrel as he steps out from the treeline, but his expression is easy to read almost through the back of his head as he stiffens and reaches for his blade, drawing it forth and gripping it tightly.
"Go away, you yellow streak of yak's piss. You want something to do, scout 'round the treeline. Scream if something eats you." His tone is slow, and heavy with menace.

[Helfdan]

Ack!!! Trying again:

Survival [roll0]
Spot [roll1]
Listen [roll2]

I really have to get to level 2, so the synergy bonuses kick in :smallbiggrin:

[Kain_Tempest]

Upon mentioning of the Column. Thyr looks towards the Column to gauge how far back there were. They should try and remove the cart, but at the same time they wouldn't want to fall too far behind. She ignored Tono once he appeared, but noted how surly the bearded man, Ingvar was. The idiot probably doesn't like to be bullied. That's find and dandy but why waste time serving the Column if he's so against the idea of someone telling him what to do... Though, it could be that he just doesn't trust you...

[Gygaxphobia]

*Everyone make a Constitution check (Exhaustion/Hunger based) and a Survival check (Cold/Environment related). Except for Tono, who only needs the Survival check.*

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf


Constitution [roll0]
Survival [roll1]

:smallannoyed:

[Gygaxphobia]

The wind howls down from the mountainface, screeching as it comes.

Your ears prick and the change in tension across your skin gives you seconds warning. You have time to hold your clothes tight to you...

As it strikes the drift of snow, the wind sends up clouds of powder and the ice attacks you with a vengeance, for some past remembered transgression.
The shards and crystals dance in your face, scratching and stinging. And you react as you have since birth, shielding yourself with arms, then pulling hoods and cloaks tight about you.
The wind buffets, picking up cloak flaps and bags not held tight and trying to rip them from you - tugging and pulling - then changing tack and hitting you with body blows designed to throw you from your feet.

You dig in with heels, and sink to your knees in the soft wet snow, as though it will hold you. But by lowering yourself the wind has less to cling you and you retain your balance. The wind takes all voices and demands attention, no sound other than the blizzard can prevail.

The whistling in your ears becomes intense and from white clouded vision, darkness encases you.
You try to see, but only blurs of pink and red confuse you. Red eyes out there somewhere...looking back...

You press your eyes tight and hunker down, gritting teeth and mumbling words to unknown saviours.

It seems like hours, but finally it ceases. You have difficulty moving from stiffness, but there is extra weight from a layer of fresh snow deposited on top of you, and you pull yourself out.

A stark reminder of where you are and the bleak environment that will snatch you up and trample you if you forget to pay it respect.

You must have been in the storm for 15 minutes, and it takes another 5 to get to your feet.
You see the wind pass on, much of the Column has suffered similarly, but the wind howls off to the north-west in swirls off snow. It meanders slightly, as though racing the Column to the gap in the Spears of Rigthane.

That is a terrifying thought. Ahead (some 6 or 7 miles and slightly downhill) the head of the Column must be barely half a mile from the valley between the Spears. If the blizzard were to strike there, many would be lost from snow and ice and rock from the mountainsides, and the confined space the blizzard would rage in.

[Kain_Tempest]

Slowly getting to her feet, Thyr shook the excess snow from her cloak, patting her chilled arms. She looked around to see if everyone else was doing alright. Did you see what I saw in all that? Did you see? I didn't like it. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. Faillune continued to ramble on. Thyr barely gave an affirmative grunt as she checked on those that were near. She had seen something, but she couldn't tell if it was simply a hallucination for the cold or her imagination.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar takes a minute to catch his breath, then jogs back to the rear of the column, where the others have just dug themselves out. "The sudden snow-squall will have covered any sign on the ground... but I saw something moving out there." His face is grim. "The Column better move faster..." The hunter then checks on his arrows' fletchings, and again scans the treeline for foes.

Spot check [roll0]

[Kain_Tempest]

"You saw it too?" Thyr asks and looks from the Column to the surroundings. Toldja."But for moving this many..." Thyr shakes her head. "Perhaps for ten fists. But There is no way to get the order down the line quickly enough to mean anything... The storm might've slowed down the leaders in the next valley. If anything we'll be going slower." Despite the fresh fallen snow, Thyr doesn't seem to be slowed down by it at all. She nudged the crouching Avalancher, Noj, with her foot.
"You still alive? Get up."

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj coughs as he straightens up, and he sheds the snow from his hair like an old man shedding years.
"Red eyes, right? That means Wendigo. But why didn't they attack while we were pinned down in the blizzard..." Noj shakes his head again, trying to ignore the icy knife of hunger in the pit of his stomach. "But yeah, we'd better get moving." With that, He begins loping across the fresh-fallen snow towards the tail of the column, but with nothing like the speed he had before; his gait is stiff and halting.

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Grakka rights himself, digging out snow from many parts of his armor. The dampness seeps into his clothing, and he shivers; a quiet, cacophonous clanking of armor as he moves. "Ooph! I'm going to be feeling that on the morrow. We best get on - the Journey stops for no man, and the Wendigo need less provocation than this to attack. We best keep our eyes open."


I haveta say, the one nice thing about Perceptive is it takes the burden of spot/listen/sense motive off me and onto the poor DM :smallbiggrin:

[Gygaxphobia]

You pull yourselves to your feet and brush down your damp clothes.
Glancing around, trying to gain your bearings is difficult since everyone has moved and scattered since the storm hit. The new layer of snow makes the area look different too.
Many people have picked themselves up and hurried onwards, and you join them, albeit nearly a hundred yards behind. Clenching your jaws and striding on, you trail behind the weak and frail gathering of humanity.
Occasional glances behind ensure you are not stalked, yet your tracks are only barely visible as new snow continues to fall, covering all your trace of your passing.

The sun is well past noon and you have barely three hours of light left. The Spears of Rigthane are some five miles in front of you, and the head of the Column is just passing through.

[Kain_Tempest]

Making some rations would have been a good idea. Faillune mentioned as the group continued their march. Thyr gave a snort. Sorry, forgot... But still, why did the wendigo not come after you? You were food, you were open to an attack... Everyone saw it, it couldn't be all of your collective imaginations. Those creatures were targetting someone, but who? Say, didja notice the mountain man is kinda limping? Thyr gave an affirmative grunt and glanced towards Noj. You think something is wrong with him.
"Everything is wrong with him..." Thyr mumbled.
You don't like him, do you?
"...Don't know what to think."
Outsiders have an agenda all the time, right? Why is this one no better, eh? Trying to help you out. At least his methods were a little bit more normal than the weasel... But then, they're both show offs... Think that other one with the beard and the armour are any differnet. The tracker's got a bug up his ass. Doesn't like to be ordered... An outsider in among the outsiders, eh? The one in armour, except for giving us gripe, he's alright...
"You're being..."
'Like my mother.' I'm sorry if I'm trying to look out for you and find you some friends. Pfft... You're right I am sounding like your mother. Thyr looked down at her feet and smiled a little before resuming her regular neutral stare at what lay ahead.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj doesn't look around at first as Tono approaches, although it's easy to see that he tenses up somewhat. Noj continues to walk, blinking the falling snow out of his eyes, as the minstrel talks. When silence once again falls but for the hiss of the snow and wind, it seems as if Noj will let it hang as it is. But then slowly, almost glacially, he reaches up a gloved hand and scratches his chin.
"You're a fobbing elf-skinned puttock, Tono, and I don't make friends so easy as that. But I'm nae gonna try and gut you, for all that you deserved it. Ally, I call you, but not friend. Make peace with it."

So saying, the Avalancher trudges on. There's more freedom in his step than there was, but his gait is still far from what it was scarcely an hour ago.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf


I work best alone... but if these Wendigo catch us...

Ingvar catches up with Noj and Grakka. "We'll likely be fighting these monsters sooner than later. If we hope to survive, we'd best have a plan. Our main disadantage is that we are prey... I would much rather be hunting them down." He scans the treeline reflexively. "It seems that with your armor" he looks at Grakka "and her roundshield" he nods at Thyr "the two of you would make the best defensive buttress should the Wendigo charge us. Then Noj and I, and the minstrel, if he is willing, could act as skirmishers to whittle them down, as a wolfpack would." He frowns pensively. "Though the hard part about being prey is, you cannot always choose where to turn at bay and meet your stalkers. Do any of you have other ideas regarding how we should face them?"
It was the most words Ingvar had spoken since joining the Column, and the others can tell he somehow enjoys this formulation of battleplans.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj glances after the minstrel as he walks away, surprise registering on his weather-beaten face.
Heh. Maybe you're thinner-skinned than you look, minstrel. He shakes his head, and looks forward again.
He could've been serious, though. Pah, that goatish lewdster's gonna have to learn that some trails take a long time to uncover after you've buried them with a snowslide.

The wiry Avalancher runs a hand across his brow, wiping away some of the slush. The hunter...Now what had he called himself?...approaches, and begins talking of tactics. Noj focuses his mind on the subject as best he can, but his mind keeps wandering.
Finally, Noj adds his opinions;
"I'd say you're mostly right. Fighting on level ground; that's new to me, though. Half the tactics of the Avalanche don't bear much on this terrain. If we make it to the spears soon, I'll advise you better." He hunches his shoulders and squints into the wind. "Now...we can still do Boulder and Flint. Boulder," Noj nods towards Grakka, "holds the enemy while the flint strikes from behind." he sighs. "Problem is, this ain't our land; It's the Wendigo's land. So we've gotta stay kinda close together, or we'll get picked off. We can only use Jagged Teeth if we've got our backs to a wall, and Thunder Peak won't work at all down here."

A thought occurs to him, and his swivels around, his red hair blowing about his face as he turns towards Thyr. In spite of the minstrel's presence, he shouts over the wind.
"Thyr! We're talking battle up here, and you gotta know the Wendigo of the plains, yeah?" He gestures her over with a swoop of the arm.

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Grakka turns and nods at Ingvar's arrival. "It seems we should 'ave me an' the gel at the fore. 'owever, you be forgettin' our major advantage o'er the Wendigo - we can ready the land itself against 'em. P'raps you or the touchy-feeley fellow have some knowledge of traps an' the like? I'd love to be able'ta set up punji sticks*at a chokepoint and whatnot, but bein' as we're on th' move..." Grakka makes a killing stroke motion, "...thinnin' out the herd might be the best we can do - yeh catchin' me drift?"

*anti-infantry and anti-cavalry sharpened spikes driven into the ground.

See if I notice (by sight or sound) Thyr's mumblings to herself
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Gygaxphobia]

((I get the impression that Thyr is not obviously talking to herself, but anyone can Take 10 and see that she looks distant and her lips move a lot whilst she looks at her weapon. Anyhow I'll let her add to that if need be.))

The wind changes and blows directly East, into your faces, carrying drifting snow and water with it. It's strong enough that talking is an effort, you have to lean your body into it to make progress, and this takes it's toll on your energy reserves. Hunger begins to be a bigger and bigger warning felt in your empty bellies.

You walk in this way for perhaps an hour, the whispy misted disc of weak sunlight is losing it's battle with the cold air and it is certainly well into it's descent now. You pass a clutch of thorny bushes, already picked clean of any berries they might have held, footprints all around tell the gatherers have been here.
You can see the winds are strong up ahead, the snow is lifted and swirling it makes the winds visible as they batter the Column and clash against the rocks.
The air seems thick and grey with mist, which rises and builds in the valley, until a smokey layer hangs above the heads of the travellers.

You are just beginning to think that you may make the high twin peaks of the mountain Spear of Rigthane before nightfall. Perhaps half the Column has past through already and you are looking forward to the food, rest and warmth that has been promised for your duty.

Looking forward, you cross a small rise in the earth and it gives you a view over the back of the Column to the Spears some three miles ahead. In slow and gentle motion the peak on the left sheds a sliver of ice from it's side and then another, it's twin produces one and then a series of grains.

It looks almost beautiful until you realise the scale of those slivers and grains, some three miles distant. They must be huge deposits, wrenched from the mountains by the winds.
You take a deep breath, for a moment unsure of the implication. Avalanche. As the thought forms, a tremble runs through the ground, like a muffled stampede. The weight of snowfall must be huge to echo so far.

In slow movement a great cloud of snow and dust rises up from the impact, obscuring most fo the Column, and the cloud starts rushing towards you and people start to scatter and fall prone, covering themselves.

There is a massive area obscured by the fallout from the impact. It slowly settles and the screams of howling and dying people reach you. It seems strange that the injured could be so close, that the direct impact could be felt so far back... Yet in amongst the screams of pain and terror are barks and howls and ... other, more bestial noises, growls and unearthly roars...

Through the cloud of clearing mist, three dozens of black furred shapes menace and savage the people of the Column. Most of them lope in packs, four-legged and snarling, yet others walk almost upright and survey the carnage, picking victims through canine eyes and bloodied muzzles.


*Everyone roll Initiative please :)*
- Currently you are 400 yards from the closest creatures, so at least a minute away.
- Therefore we are not in combat rounds yet, until you define your actions over the next minute
- See Map link (http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a306/dignitas/Fight2.jpg) for info, terrible map as usual but it might help a little ;)

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Despite the death and disaster, The warrior can't help but watch with somber eyes as the snow plummets from the mountain. This was the sign of his people's power, and one that still filled him with awe and pride.

He soon returns his gaze to the horizon, however, squinting his red eyebrows to peer at the black packs scything through the stricken.
"Damn," he says, "They're using Shrike Feathers after fate handed them the Thunder Peak. We need to get over there, an' quick!" He looks around at his new allies. "We've gotta draw them away from the wagons. Hunter; Can you nettle them from a hilltop? If you can give 'em feathers in this wind, We'll draw them to you and keep them from your flanks."

Noj shakes himself and massages his knees with his hands.
Right...I got no time for weariness right now

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The tall hunter nods as he restrings his bow. Although as outraged as Noj, he appears cold as ice as he studies the battlefield.
"Aye, It is a sound plan. But we need to be within fifty yards, preferably within thirty, for my bow to be accurate. If we can find a hillside, it would be great... but any cover, even a boulder, will do. Let's get going!"

With that, he springs forth, like a wolf with the blood-scent.

Initiative [roll0]

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr's chat with Faillune came to a halt at the thunder of the avalanche. Her eyes refocused farther afeild than they were before. The sound of the weasel's nattering came out clearly rather than the faded wash when she was preoccupied. Thyr would have, could have, regretted her suddent attention as the cries of the wounded came to her. But this was a complex affair for her. The death of many was nothing new. She had been a part of a few odd raids that turned from one-sided dealing to wholesale slaughter, so the moans of the wounded were meaningless. But it was the meaning behind it that caused the most shock. The Column, the manifest destiny of herself and many others had just been struck by a heavy blow. Then an even heavier thought struck her...
If she had not joined with this band of cantankerous misfits... She would have been the same situation as the people up ahead, even worse, she could be lying under several feet of snow and rock, slowly being crushed. Thyr went pale and her knees shaked.
The woman bent forward and supported her arm on a bent knee, stopping herself from pitching to the ground. She mumbled something under her breath.
"Thank you Patriarchs for your deliverance. The cosmos smile on me because of your favour." She took a deep breath, finishing her prayer and standing up straight. By this time the Wendigo were already upon the wounded.
The presence of the packs were troubling but where at first, not at all as powerful as her recent epiphany. That was, until she saw the hunched forms of the standing wolf creatures. This again caused the arctic warrior's blood to freeze.
That isn't what I think it is, is it? Faillune asked. Thyr glanced to the already moving members of her cadre. She glanced down at the beasts and frowned. Was this a sign from the cosmos? She locked her jaw and grabbed Faillune again, gripping it tightly in her hand.
Despite the hunger, despite the cold, her blood was now going to run hot. Her place had been reaffirmed in the world, after a long time believing that no answer would be made. But here, now, as she bounded towards the foe, effortlessly charging throw the snow she knew. Her world was hers again, in some small way.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The huntsman from the Uthrac mountains lopes over the icy hills, sure-footed as a mountain goat. As he runs, he keeps a lookout for a good vantage point from which to start his attack on the beasts. He also studies his foes, his hard green eyes blazing.

[Gygaxphobia]

As one, the group of four warriors thunder across the thick snow. With heels crunching hard and packing the stuff tighter, the noise of creaking leather and clinking metal settles into a rhythm with the long strides.
Behind some way, Tono skitters up the hill side, seeking cover amongst the ridges and scarce shrubberies.

The group skirts the back of the Column and heads south-west, hillward to find a vantage point. The people of the Column have gathered around each other in packs with tools and improvised weapons to defend themselves. Those several hundred at the back are standing form and looking hardy. Those hundreds further up continue to be savaged in bloody shrieks.

The group of warriors ploughs on diagonally across the hillside, realising they cannot charge full pelt up the icy ground, they run across the hill until they reach the edge of a ridge.
Below and about two hundred feet away, there are two packs of wolves to the north-west chewing through the travellers. The nearest of these packs is already engaged. After killing tens of humans, a group of five horsemen are attacking them with spears, and further horsemen come from behind. The pack furthest from you has burst through the Column and is looking for futher targets. Beyond them there seems to be several sleds in the distance racing nearer.
The third pack has finished overrunning a muddle of carts and wagons around one hundred feet away. As you arrive on your ridge with deep fogged breath and burning legs. This pack pricks it's ears and turns. A creature rises to stand on two legs and looks back to the part of the Column nearest you, it seems they have found a mark. With howls and unearthly baying they make to charge and their powerful legs thrust them into motion.
They seem to be attacking the rearmost part of the Column. You swallow and steel yourselves, drawing your weapons and glancing at each other. Perhaps you should stop them? You are the Rear-Guard after all...

http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a306/dignitas/Fight2a.jpg

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar moves forth and goes down on one knee behind a boulder. "The ones with lighter fur, standing on hind legs, seem to be telling them what to do. Those die first. And be careful, if they surround you, they can tear you to pieces. Let's show them terror!"
He then takes aim at the bipedal montrosity and releases.


Actions for the round:
1-gain tactical token
2-move ten-twenty feet forward (move action), and take cover (so that he can be less than one range increment away)
3-Shoot at the upright beast [roll0] Damage [roll1]

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj grips his black-iron blade and begins running again, taking care to make it a sweeping motion.
Hit them at the same time as Grakka. That's how Boulder and Flint works.
Counting on his blade to take down the standing wolf, Noj watches the movements of the closest wolf carefully as he charges.
That one.
(Dodge to closest wolf)


Attack roll, if needed
[roll0]
(assuming +2 for charging)
[roll1]
[roll2]
AC 20

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

As the bandit woman and the Avalanche men charge into the fray, Ingvar gracefully nocks another shaft, aims, and releases.


1-move action: gain a tactical token
2-Attack Damage [roll1]


edit: Critical THreat!! :smallbiggrin:
rolling to confim critical

confirming [roll]1d20+4
if successful, additional damage is 2d8 2d8

[Helfdan]

trying again

confirm roll [roll0]
bonus damage [roll1]


so if a 20 is good enough, total of 18 damage, plus 6 if my first shot hit :smallsmile:

Tactical Tokens so far:2

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Running alongside Noj, Grakka's armored form moves slightly disjointedly compared to Noj's smooth motion, causing him to think...colorful thoughts, Damn this accursed slippery ground!

Charging upon the black forms with his glaive drawn, Grakka positions himself wisely, and lets forth a flowing swing that uses the force of the charge. "Hyah!"

Grakka is positioned so there's a target to cleave into and near enough to Noj that anyone trying to flank him would provoke an attack of opportunity from me.
[roll0] (with +2 from charge)
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
AC = 13 (with -2 from charge)

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr descended down the ridge at a full sprint, her shield ahead and her weapon trailing. She completely focused on one of the wolves not engaged by the rest of the group. She preferred to fight her battles without the help of outsiders.
Finally! Action! Faillune cried as Thyr brought the silvery weapon down in a vertical arc on the canine.

((Attach Dodge and Weapon Pools to attacked target.))
[roll0](+2 from charge)
[roll1]
EDIT: Wrong damage die

[Kain_Tempest]

New damage roll. [roll0]

[Gygaxphobia]

((Round 1))

Ingvar's arrow soars across the slope angling downwards close to the ground. As the wolf that was upright barks further commands the arrows takes it in the side by it's ribs, momentarily jolting it and almost toppling it.
Noj and Grakka gather themselves side by side ready for a counter charge and Thyr draws her mighty pick.
The ears of the pack prick up and it turns as one towards the new threat. At full charge the speed of the beasts is great and in seconds they are at the base of the slope some fifty feet away.

((Round 2))

Ingvar's hand is from his quiver to his bow string in another instant and with an audible hiss he expels a long breath, his whole body relaxing and the new bow string strumming. A yelp and a cry from downslope is followed by a wolf lifted slightly from it's feet and flung back a yard or more by an arrow through it's mouth.
Noj and Grakka start forward to block the charging pack together, they make the dash closing the gap. Mid-stride Grakka mis-steps, the weight of his weapon swing unbalancing him and skids onto his rump.
The clash is met by Noj alone, slashing at the lead wolf and spinning aside as the gutted body strikes the ground beside him.

Thyr stands apart on the left, thrusting her shield forward to distract a dog from the hefty weight that she brings crashing down on it's neck. The body's momentum slams a dead weight into the shield with a wet and heavy *thwump*.

The fast sprint of the wolves carries them onwards and over their dead pack-mates. Leaping to attack the warriors in two's and three's they snarl and snap, taking turns to agress and retreat.
Two wolves leap on fallen Grakka, one is unable to sink his teeth into the metal skinned clansman, the other is helped off by a sweep from Grakka's shield, but Grakka is unable to find his feet.
Two more leap past Noj not expecting his turning sidestep, but bare down on him quickly forcing him to defend himself. Two more bay behind unable to reach with their teeth.
Thyr is quickly in danger of being surround as black furred beasts appear all about her, snapping at her shield and legs. One darts forward clawing at the shield, but the other two take the chance to bite at leg and arm around the sides, gripping tight but not seizing hold.


Grakka soaks 1 point of damage on his armour and remains prone. Thyr takes two hits of 3 damage each and needs to roll to soak...

((map of current situation: http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a306/dignitas/Fight2b.jpg ))

[Kain_Tempest]

[roll0]
[roll1]

((Weapon and Dodge pool dumped. Weapon pool set for wolf on the right. Dodge pool set to wolf on the left.))

Mynas winces as the fangs of the wolves sank in. Gritting her teeth she forced one scrabbling at her shield away. Twisting her arm, she wrenched free of the fanged grip and swung her pick down on the wolf to her right, her eyes wide and a disturbing grin creeping upon her face.

[roll2]
[roll3]

As the blow came down, Thyr broke her attention away from her target and glanced over her shoulder at the wolf that had caught her leg. That one was bound to cause more trouble.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
[+1 dodge token vs. random wolf]
Adjusting his grip on the sword, Noj assesses the battlefield so far.
Grakka was on the ground, but his armor should keep him safe for the moment. The red-haired woman though...she was getting overwhelmed.
With a flourish, Noj tosses his blade lightly up and catches it reversed, the flat of the blade held against his forearm like a preying mantis.
Wolves are weak Wendigo; they can be shaved down toe-to-toe.
Nonetheless, Noj moves with caution as he sinks into a crouch. With a whip-like motion, he extends one lanky leg to the side and takes a low-level sidestep towards Thyr. He twists as he arrives, and brings the scimitar across vertically in a hissing arc towards the side of the wolf's head.

taking one step to the left and attacking the wolf gripping Thyr's leg.
Using Dodge token for bonus against random wolf for +1 AC.
[roll0]
[roll1]
if needed:
[roll2]

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

I accidentally was wielding a sword, a shield, and my glaive on the page, forgetting to check the sword and board as carried but not wielded. So I have 3 less armor than was listed (everything's fixed now). Since AC 12 probably was hit, I'll roll my DR for the hit:
[roll0]

Grakka slams into the ground, "Gods damn it! I swear the very earth conspires against me." Two wolves the wolves lash out in response as he tears them off and stands, but as they do so he thrusts his polearm at a third wolf's side, who threatens his clan-brother Noj.

Stands up as a move action(provoking AOOs from the adjacent wolves).
Attacks the wolf diagonally up to the left as a standard action. (can we get numbers on them in the map? It'd help for target identification)
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

Edit: The board roller hate me =(

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf


They are too close together... I need a shot... there!
Ingvar nocks another arrow as he inhales, stands and takes several steps to his right. He sights in on the beast rearing at the back, exhales, and releases.


The idea is to shoot at the wolf at the back, as it is not in melee with anybody, to try and avoid the -4 for shooting into melee. I am assuming that since Ingvar has the high ground, the guy has no cover from his friends. Let me know, otherwise I'll either use tokens or shoot at Grakka's new friend :)

move action: move 4 squares/20' to the right.
standard action: attack [roll0] damage [roll1]

Tactical Tokens:2 (no change)

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

With a look of utter dispair, Jyn looks on as the wave of snow falls to encompass the Journey. Had she been stronger this day, she may have made it further along the line and been subject to the icey death. But as each evening before arrived, she was drawn to help ease the pain and suffering of all the People and lingered behind.

Hearing the baying call of the beasts, and watching several warriors move to intercept, Jyn succumbs to an urge to help intervene. Moving with all speed, she lopes through the snow toward the battle unfolding with bow drawn.

[roll0]
run as best as possible toward the fray

[Ozzy_G]

Koal Nos, the Bear Spirit
From the terrified group of travellers at the back of the column comes an unearthly howl, like some great demonic bear. It echoes eerily in the valley, a sound like no man or beast should make.

Spending a full round action to summon Koal Nos, 4 tokens.
[roll0]

[Gygaxphobia]

((Round 3))

Ingvar (Initiative 19)
Tono (Initiative 18)
Grakka (Initiative 14)
Jyn (Initiative 14)
Noj (Initiative 13)
Koal Nos (Initiative 12)
Thyr (Initiative 11)

Ingvar slides right across the snow looking for the slightest gap, in front of him, Tono leaps up from behind a bump in the hillside whirling his sling. They both loose together, their shots crossing in the air.
Tono's is too high, but the arrow speeds onwards and scores across a beasts side (#6).
The beasts dark fur is bloodied but the arrow skims past into the snow. Grakka pulls himself to his feet, his shield clattering against his back and thrusts the glaive forward towards it, but it is wary and pained now, and slinks away from the point.
Grakka's massive hands shift quickly, using the haft to ward off the creatures closest to him, but the beasts move fast while he is unsteady and he feels their teeth through his gauntlets.
The courageous bow-woman leaps from the ranks of the startled onlookers, at full sprint she dashes nimbly across the hard earth, avoiding ice pools and stepping lightly where frost glistens. Jyn comes to a solid halt on soft legs, bow poised and seeking a target. She takes a breath and steadies herself. A roar sounds from behind her, stronger and deeper than the yelping of the hound-beasts.

From the mammoth tread and swing of Grakka, Noj flows around behind him like a babbling stream. He wrong-foots one wolf (#5): staring into it's eyes he skips away from the claws, but the other (#4) gets a sharped hooked claw close to his calf muscle... coming away with nothing but threads of leather. His scimitar is upto the hilt in the ribs of a wolf (#3), so fast there is not yet any blood.
Mynas Thyr glows with heat as she whirls her shield and steps forward and back, her grin is hideous and somewhat canine as the adrenaline pumps her eyes wide and her muscles strong. A wide arm swings out right, but she catches the movement as Noj steps into a crouch by her side and her arm diverts the movement without her brain becoming involved. She steps craftily, flinging her shield out blindly -but precisely- to protect her left flank but leaving her front open. As the beast launches in for the kill, the ponderous movement comes from Thyr's right and catches it square in the side of the head (#2) with perfect timing.

Thyr's wild swings and bestial passion keep the two wolves at bay (#1+2). Noj is quick and his unpredictable steps escape the two muzzles trying to bite him (#4+5). Grakka finds himself without a guard at his back, and is quickly surrounded. The wolves know this game best, and their snarling increases, though they cannot all find a place to bite, they know there is flesh there somewhere. They snarl and snap until finally they find underarms, and the back of the legs.

One hangs back overseeing, as the pack forms and chooses their mark, this one waits for an opening.

Thyr gains her 1st Weapon Token versus #2 and 1st Dodge Token versus #1.
Noj takes 1pt of damage, but soaks it, and gains a further dodge token (versus #4).
Grakka takes two hits, one for 1 point and one for 3 points.
Tono miss includes the -4 to firing into melee. The last map (2b) is updated with numbers, and the new one is below, as at the end of the round.

http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a306/dignitas/Fight2c.jpg

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
As far as the bloody business of butchery could be called art, Noj was an artist in the throes of creation.
Back and forth, like a woodsaw cutting soft pine. Tearing his blade free of the wolf's ribcage, Noj takes a skittering step to the side, using the jolt to propel his shoulders up and around into a crazy swing towards the wolf between himself and Grakka, his crimson-streaked blade leaving red droplets almost hanging in the air in an arc as he brings the weapon towards the wolf's neck.


Using the dodge token on the wolf #4 to increase AC by 1 against it, striking with scimitar at the wolf #5 (assuming it has advanced to where it may be reached)
[roll0]
[roll1]
if necessary,
[roll2]


EDIT: However, the jerk was stronger than expected, throwing Noj slightly off-balance.
The red-haired swordsman retracts the swing with a curse. The flow was wrong; that strike would have hit nothing.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

No good... Grakka's armor will not hold forever... They need me down there.

Ingvar takes aim, careful to avoid hitting the armored Avalanche man, and releases. He then lets the bow fall, and draws a plain but sturdy longsword from the scabbard at his left hip as he studies the remaining foes.



1- Attack wolf #8, with -4 penalty

Attack [roll0]
Damage [roll1]

2-free action: drop bow

3-move action: draw sword
4-free action: five foot step forward

Tactical Tokens:2

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Not sure if you included DR on those, if not [roll0] and [roll1].

Grakka absorbs the hits, but quickly sidesteps back to abut Noj. Best to have our backs to each other, as to not be flanked. Time to take out that one going after Noj! He swings his large glaive in a vertical swipe down over one wolf, angling the finish to try and clip another.

5 Foot step back next to Noj.
Attack at Wolf #4 (if dead, #7), cleaving into whatever's 10 feet away and alive.

[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

[Kain_Tempest]

The world was slowly slipping away from Thyr. A primal being started clawing its way out. In the distance of her mind, she could hear Faillune's voice, rythmically chanting. She could never full describe the sound of the weapon's voice, but in it she heard the snide sound of a young and wise person, cynical to the world and antagonistic to everyone. But as Faillune chanted its song of death, the voice began to change, becoming aged and strong, the oath of a warrior, playing to the shuffle of the snow and the drum of her heart with the hiss of her breath. All playing in time.
This was the song of battle, with a familiar voice come through her weapon. This was the best part of battle. This was the best part of life. And Thyr was consuming it full force. Her moves became faster, her strikes more calculated. She had caught her rhythm, now it was a matter of keeping it.
She swung Faillune again at its prey, while keeping her shield poised against the additional foe.

((Burn weapon token for Expert Strike on #2. Burn dodge token for AC bonus against #1. Total AC versus #1 is 17, AC versus #2 is 15.))
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Ozzy_G]

Koal Nos, the Bear Spirit
Out of the whirling snow hurtles a white creature, charging towards the wolf-creature at the back of the pack. And then it falls over.


[roll0]
Becomes 5, as I have a +2 to rolls to resist becoming prone. But I'm guessing that's still a failure.
Attempting a Run action to travel 40 yards, so at the end of the turn 10 yards away from the directing wolf-creature at the side of the pack furthest away from the other PCs. How far does he manage to actually get with that appalling balance check?

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

Jyn quickly analyzes the scene in front of her before turning to peer at the roar from behind. Still holding a nocked arrow, she holds fire as she may need to loose an arrow into whatever made a sound behind her.

I will need to tweak this post if distances are off, but I was unsure how many feet each hexagon was in the last map and no answer for my query yesterday.

Beast lore check costs move action.
[roll0] divide by 5 for number of tokens gained. 2 TOKENS

If threat behind her, she will fire. Rolling crits just in case.
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
If no threat visualized behind her and over 60' from others AND YOU ALLOW IT, she will move closer with a 20' move action. If map depicts her closer than 60' she will hold ground and still not fire, especially into melee.

[Gygaxphobia]

((Round 4))

Ingvar (Initiative 19)
Tono (Initiative 18)
Grakka (Initiative 14)
Jyn (Initiative 14)
Noj (Initiative 13)
Koal Nos (Initiative 12)
Thyr (Initiative 11)

Ingvar loses his concentration for a moment, seeing Grakka almost overwhelmed and surrounded by four wolves. He misses the bow string and the arrow only leaps yards from him.
He catches Tono's eye and they both pull weapons and hurry forwards. Ingvar arrives in time to slash at a wolf moving to attack Grakka.

To a skirmishes eye there was danger everywhere in the fast and furious melee. The snow was melting under the fast footwork and the flowing blood, turning to sludge across the area - the earth was feasting on the death.

Grakka sweeps the butt of his polearm across the rank of fur in front of him. One wolf snaps at his arm, so he lowers his weight and smacks his metal clad shoulder into it's face to counter. Buying himself a split second he steps back to back with Noj and thrusts over his neighbours ever-moving right shoulder. A wolf snaps at the point, momentarily distracted but wary enough to narrowly avoid a skewering.

Jyn glances over her shoulder to see the lumbering barbarian's roar as he staggers past her. She knows him from the pack of travellers but he is acting like a wild animal. She considers whether he needs to be felled.

Noj swings his wide arcing blow, precise and controlled but too predictable, and the wolf is long gone. The blood gushes from the fallen body and the scimitar flicks it's coating all over Grakka's back as it sweeps past.

The large fur-covered man ambles forward behind Jyn, it's bellowing increases and it's thick thighs pound the earth and it's meaty fists wave in the air. When it skids and falls flat forwards it barely notices it's raw palms and bleeding knees as it clumsily begins to scramble to it's feet.

Thyr weaves a wide pattern around her, blurring so smoothly from one arc to the next that anyone would be hard pushed to tell where her arm ends and her weapon begins. One wolf gets it wrong, leaping forward at the wrong time, and finding a thick metal prong come upwards into it's belly on a backswing. The path of the pick changes so quickly that the body hovers in the air for a second before slumping to the ice.

While her eyes remain transfixed on the punctured wolf for too long, the wolf to her left scores a heavy hit, clawing her from buttock to thigh. She growls and bats it away with her shield, seeing for the first time it's black-haired hands are those of an ape, with man-like thumbs and human elbows.

Noj's opponents time their attacks well, leaping forward for his chest one lands two heavy claws square on him, raking down his chest. The other rushes into his legs to knock him down.

Grakka weaves and steps as he is ferociously assaulted from the restricted angles in front. He swings his weapon alternating far and near to try and keep some distance. The other two find openings, snarling and tearing whatever they can get.
One leaps from behind at the newly arrived Ingvar, swiping at his belly and trying to slice his gut before his blood is even warm.

Silently from behind, one wolf slinks away.

Thyr takes one hit of 4hp
Noj takes a hit of 4hp and a Trip attack versus Str or Dex of [roll0]
Grakka takes two hits, one of 2hp and one of 4hp. Ingvar takes one hit of 2hp. Happy round for everyone! So three people need to soak!

[Gygaxphobia]

Map at end of round:
http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a306/dignitas/Fight2d.jpg

Incidentally, the movement of #8 provokes and AOO from Ingvar.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
The rough-looking warrior shakes his head to dislodge the pain of the wolf claws as he takes half a staggering step backwards, his long dirty red hair flaring outwards like a dark sunburst. Snarling a feral snarl, Noj drops into a crouch, his swordarm held behind like a black iron scorpion's tail. For just a moment, Noj stares full into the wolf's eyes, and maybe the wolf saw, just for a moment, the spark of mischevious malevolence presaging his next motion.

His legs snapping straight, Noj launches himself over the wolf's head, the wind whistling past his crude padded armor as he lands, whipping his arm around at the shoulder, bringing the black iron scimitar up to bisect the beast just below its fluffy tail.


Tumbling through wolf #5's square and then attacking it from behind.
Dodge bonus on Wolf #5
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
Accepting the wolves relentless attacks with a grimace, Grakka waves his haft at the snarling wolves, quickly using the opening to move alongside Noj. Seeing the newly-arrived Ingvar being assaulted, he turns his attention to one of the wolves snapping at him. Rotating quickly, he spins about, bringing the haft around his back to prevent an opening for the wolves. Using this momentum, he powerfully arcs his glaive around and into the side of the wolf, trailing it over the other wolves in the line hoping to catch one unaware.

5 Foot step horizontally left.
Attack at Wolf #8 (if dead, #4), cleaving into whatever's 10 feet away and alive, preferably threatening an ally.

[roll6]
[roll7]
[roll8]
[roll9]

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr winces from the pain and whirls around the face, the last wolf before her, the muck surrounding her and the dead creatures churning. With a snarl not unlike these beasts, she swings her pick wide and laterally, her stance widening as she swung. She knew this would make her less quick to jump out of the way, but if she hit, these beast would go flying.

((Dump weapon pool, attach weapon pool to #1. Thyr uses a Lesser Defense Challenge to do a Reckless Strike, adding +2 to her damage for the round. Her AC against #1 is now 14, and against all other foes, is reduced to 13.))
[roll1]
[rol= Damage]1d6+5

[Kain_Tempest]

((*explative*))
[roll0]

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The tall huntsman growls in fury as the claws slam against his midriff. He raises the iron blade in a two-handed grip and slashes at a careless wolf that circled behind Grakka.


Soak [roll0]
AoO on wolf#8 [roll1] Damage [roll2]
(above attack roll assumes Grakka and Ingvar are flanking the wolf, otherwise substract 2)


He then spins to the right, slashing low, seeking the flesh of the wolf that savaged him. As he attacks, he roars long and loud in anger at the beast.


1-Standard action to attack wolf #7
Attack [roll3]
Damage [roll4]

2-Intimidate (Demoralize), taking a skill challenge (-5) to make this a move action.
Skill check [roll5]

[YPU]

Dane Deadeye

The bitter winds bring unexpected help as a arrow speeds towards the wolfs. A sharp eye could perhaps see that it was loosed by a young man at the front of the line. a well cared for longbow in his hands. The man looks like he has been running, probably from somewhere down the line. his face is thin and pale and even looks paler in contrast with his long black hair. he is clothed in a well fitting suit of reinforced leather, here and there trimmed with fur. He slowly walks towards the fight while drawing another arrow on his bow.


Move action: walks 30ft towards the fight. Still 120 feet away from it.
Standard action: Dane is attacking wolf 5 or 6; whichever is still standing or most visible to him. Attack:[roll0] that’s +6 attack bonus, -2 for range and -4 for shooting into melee.

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

Jyn cringes at the sight of all the pink and red snow. With dark brown, almost black hair she stands witnessing the fight in front of her. She is clothed in thick furs, so her short frame is cloaked from sight. Although not strickingly beautiful, if one looked hard into her knowing eyes, they would be drawn deep into her being. At her side is a spiked ball of iron, while over her shoulder is a pack and a quiver of arrows.

As her Journey companions continue to take punishment from the 'wolves', she tries to call out in her loudest voice offering advice in the killing of such beasts. She has heard description of beasts that fight like this before, although she can not recall if these are such beasts or not, but the knowledge imparted by the Lorekeepers of her village seem attributable here. After calling out, she attempts a deeper look at the beasts in front of her, hoping to spot some weakness that will allow her to strike even more true. With that knowledge she lets an arrow fly at the wolf leaving combat.

Using beast lore token (1 left) to offer advise to allies within 60' that can hear Jyn and can see her. They gain +1 att/+1 dmg for 1 rd. Also using knowledge check UNcover weakness to gain +1 att for self, if beats the DC to gain info on the beasts.

[roll0]

[roll1] not sure if I need a spot check to see the departing wolf creature. If I don't see him I will fire at a wolf not immediately in melee with ally, unless not possible. Can't pull up map at work to name a specific wolf now.

[roll2] add 1 if knowledge check works, and subtract 4 if wolf in melee
[roll3]
Just in case[roll4] [roll5]

EDIT:: Ran home for lunch so able to pull up map. Attacking wolf #9

[Ozzy_G]

Kaol Nos, the Bear Spirit

With an unearthly scream, like some foul demonic beast, the white creature gets up and stumbles towards one of the wolves snapping at Noj's heels. As it emerges from the snow, those who manage to take a moment to look see that it is not some great white bear, but a man wearing a huge white bear skin. He is short and stocky, and has a long, braided beard. He holds aloft a massive club shod in bronze and covered in mystic runes. As he hurries to the fight, he roars again, a truly disturbing sound, for there is no humanity in that voice.


[roll0]
Standing up, then making another move action to move to adjacent Wolf #4.
Spending two spirit tokens to increase strength and constitution for 4 rounds.

[Gygaxphobia]

((Round 5))

Ingvar (Initiative 19)
Tono (Initiative 18)
Grakka (Initiative 14)
Jyn (Initiative 14)
Noj (Initiative 13)
Koal Nos (Initiative 12)
Dane (Initiave 12)
Thyr (Initiative 11)

Ingvar hacks into the beast as it lands on Grakka, tearing away most of a back leg. The creatures goes completely berserk flapping around snapping at everything, blood blossoming everywhere.

Tono leaps the last five feet of his run, raising his haft and spearing the point straight downwards. The wolf looks up and snarls, before being puntured, falling dead with the spear skewered through it's left shoulder.

Grakka shifts his hands on his pole, pivoting in his firm stance and bringing the huge weapon into the side of the bloodied and berserk wolf. As the weapon bites, Grakka roars and digs his feets down to give him leverage and the glaive hews through breast and bone. The tremendous blow carries the weapon out of control and it swings upwards, forcing Grakka to lift a foot, raising a knee to balance himself.

Jyn shouts her warning above the clash and barely heard but unconsciously felt, each absorbs the advice in their own way. She chooses her mark and sends an arrow into the fleeing wolf. It nicks it's hind legs, sending it scurrying all the faster.

In the savage game of thrust and feint, Noj is proving the better. Stoked on by his chest wound his outsmarts the wolf again, sending it the wrong way and then vaulting over it, cutting across it's back end and leaving it whimpering in slow death on the ground.

The bear-covered man roars his battlecry and launches himself forward, a vast hammer hefted high. The wolves themselves begin to be surrounded.

The arrow is barely noticed by the focussed combatants as it dips and buries itself in the snow behind a wolf. The white sheen of the ground and the slight slope make it hard to judge the height, but Dane was close.

Thyr rotates, following the momentum of her shield barge and using the spin to bring her pick across and into the stunned wolf from the side, spearing it's ribs with a mighty blow. Raising her right knee she catches it under it's chin and her own momentum carries her forward, her right foot stamping down on it's throat. She looks down at the corpse, it's exposed belly up to her devilish grin, and drags her pick out again.

The remaining two beasts have worked themselves into a frenzy, carry nothing for their lives, they burn their last energy in an effort to bite and tear and whatever comes close. But tiring, and without their pack mates to create openings their snapping is easily dealt with. They look like little more than puppies as their overseer races off at full sprint.


Damn this round is complex...
#8 is not flanked, since Grakka doesn't threaten, however #7 is.
But there's no hits for me this round :(

[Gygaxphobia]

http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a306/dignitas/Fight2e.jpg

[Ozzy_G]

Koal Nos, the Bear Spirit

With a scream like some primal beast, the bear-skin wearing man smashes his great bronze club into the wolf, with no thought for defending himself.

Using suicidal attack: -6 defence challenge, +3 attack bonus
Also using 2 tokens for +2 Damage
[roll0]
[roll1]
If the wolf is already dead by then, he attacks it's corpse anyway.

[YPU]

Seeing how this fight is over anyway Dane decides to stand down, to few targets and to many people standing in the way right now anyway. Lazily he unspans his longbow and stores it in the sheet on his back. Looking at how the others finish the fight he wraps his raggedy grey cloak around him. “I wonder why I ran here anyway.” He mumbles.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

They need to be put down, quickly... as long as they live they can kill

Ingvar steps forth and hacks down at the beleaguered wolf-beast


1-Free action: 5' step to close with wolf #6, flanking with Noj
2-Attack [roll0] Damage[roll1]
bonuses from flank and beast lore are included
3-Move action to gain a tactical token, for a total of 3 (you never know):smallsmile:

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj whirls about as the wolf sinks to the ground, hearing the howling and the thundering steps from behind. The Avalanche man takes one quick cantering step backwards, eyeing the fur-clothed maniac with a cautious curiosity.
Whoever he is, Noj isn't about to get between him and that wolf.
Noj turns on his heel, and begins running after the pack leader
Got to take him down...

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr raises her eyes from the dead form and to the fleeing pack leader. There was no way should could catch up. The sound of the battle caused her to turn her head, and see yet another wolf. Her blood still hot as ever and the grin having not faded, she lunged at the lonely wolf creature. Swinging Faillune down upon it.

((Five foot step to #4.))
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Gygaxphobia]

((Round 6))

Noj launches himself off sprinting in an arc to avoid the last wolves and heads off after the fleeing leader. It has a good start on him, and while he might catch it in a short sprint he will lose a long chase.

Languidly -almost lackadaisically* like she was squashing a bug- Thyr steps forward and pans the wolf over the head with Failune, putting the creature down with a crushed skull. As she raises it again to look around, the stickiness all over the haft reaches her fingers with a luke warmth and drips onto the floor. Some hair and bone pieces remain attached to the metal head.

The final wolf is torn apart as four weapons strike- cutting, spitting, skewering and crushing it several times. Blood flows profusely, bones are powdered and the pelt is mushed.
Breathing heavily and sweating, spattered with bone and blood. Four men eye each other around the carcass, the roaring bear-man a stranger to Grakka, Ingvar and Tono. Thyr stands slightly apart, her weapon ready for further use.

Jyn takes another shot at the fleeing wolf, but it is far away and almost out of sight. The arrow arcs over the hillside, disappearing. The wolf fleeing to join several others fleeing from other skirmishes.
They look to be making for the narrow channel between the hills where the packs seem to have first emerged.

Everyone is out of combat rounds now, except for Noj. Who can carry on pursuing if he chooses, but needs to make a CON check for endurance. You can choose to take strain if you like for +2 to the CON check, effectively taking a penalty to CON afterwards until rested.
*such a great word.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj curses, but he knows better than to chase a wendigo alone out into the wilderness. Taking a few last steps, Noj switches his sword for the bow on his back and draws, the aged wood creaking as Noj hauls back on the string. Taking careful aim, he fires an arrow at the Shiverbit, hoping to take it down.


I suppose this will be a stunt? Noj hopes to hamper the creature's movement with a shot towards its legs or hindquarters.
-3 penalty to hit in exchange for slowing or halting the creature's movement?
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The runt is brave, after all. All of them are. Ingvar looks thoughtfully at his companions as he wipes his sword clean, then returns it to the sheath at his left hip. He then addresses Grakka with a half smile. "You had me worried for a moment there, even with your iron suit."
He then looks around the group again, studying the two men and the woman who helped in the fight. "I must fetch my bow. Keep an eye out for Egrek, he may want us to track down these devil-wolves." He then lopes uphill to take up his weapon, and inspects it for damage as he unstrings it.


Ingvar also means to gut a couple of the corpses to get the raw materials for a few spare bowstrings... these will be thorouhly cleansed with snow, of course :smallyuk:

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

As Jyn approaches the group, with quivering vocal cords she says, "That wa...was nothing like I imagined. All this red snow will take getting used to. I have seen many wounds before, but none this fresh." Focusing her attentions on Grakka, she reaches into her pack and continues, "I am not sure if those wolves did much damage to you, but please let me take a look, I may be of help. Anyone else that needs tending, please let me know."

Will take 10 as needed on treat wounds for all, restore 6 reserve points for each person.

[Gygaxphobia]

Noj takes his shot fast and the arrow seems on course. It's a little difficult to be sure if the arrow hits it's mark nearly 80 yards away, but there's a definite change in the wolf's gait and pace for some moments after.

A half dozen remaining wolves are sprinting back from the carnage around the wagons, aiming for the gap in the hills that funnels into a narrow channel. This gap is some hundred yards from you.

Opposite the channel, the Column it is in serious disarray. Wagons have halted at odd angles and many burdens have been carelessly shed. There are some fifty serious casualties, and the flat ground about is red and murky.

Possibly a dozen wolves are lying in two clusters around. Of the group killed by the horse riders, five men are reining in and breaking off pursuit. One is dismounted and his horse is lying down. As you watch he dispatches it with an axe, and some people move in with long knives and leather wraps.

On the far side around two hundred and fifty yards away three burly men with large axes finish off four wolves aided by four white dogs. One man hangs back reloading a crossbow from the stand of his sled.

From the group of horseriders, one moves slightly forwards and waves his spear one handed in the air. He circles it a few times, shielding his eyes with his other hand.*

*A fairly simple Sense Motive check (DC 5) reveals this to mean "Get your asses over here now".

1. Weapons need to be kept dry and oiled, especially when exposed to salt, snow or blood. They will become impaired very quickly if not looked after.
Wolf guts make excellent bowstrings, but after cleaning they need to be slow-smoked over a fire, and preferably waxed if possible.

2. I believe Thyr and Noj are the most wounded. A cursory glance reveals that the blood all over Grakka is mostly somebody else's. Noj looks worst because his leather armour is a little shredded and it has absorbed much blood.
You could all do with a bath quite frankly ;)

3. Bandaging from Jyn is fine, but be aware of the time it takes. One minute to use one Reserve Point to heal one HP, then the bandaging can cure the Reserve Points

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr looks down at the dead wolf and then around at the scene, giving a long sigh and letting her shoulders sag. She blinks for what seemed like hours and blinked away the tears. She then raises Faillune rather surprised at how much gore it had bathed in. Eww. Thyr couldn't help but laugh.
Stepping away from the dead wolves and do a cleaner patch of snow, she places her weapon on the ground long enough to sling the shield to her back and pull out a red stained rag from her belt. Picking up some snow she melts it on the rag and then picks up Faillune again, carefully wiping the blood off with the wet rag. She doesn't seem immediately aware of any sort of signal as she sets about cleaning her weapon.

((Is it safe to assume that we have the tools necessary to take care of our weapons? Such as the oil needed after cleaning?))

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj Grins at the creature's limping.
"Have that to remember me by, you furry son of a b*tch."
shouldering his bow, the red-haired Avalancher begins trotting back to the remains of the melee. When he arrives, he spares a rather owlish look for the odd assortment of characters gathered about the corpses, but stoops down to use a spare bit of wolf to wipe the blood from his blade, drying it carefully and sheathing it. He stands with a grunt and gazes a trifle sorrowfully at his shredded armor and shredded flesh, wincing a little as the snowflakes still hiss on the sticky black blood.

Wiping his face with a calloused hand, he makes his way to Grakka and slaps him heartily on the pauldron.
"Good fighting there, Grakka, but the boulder's actually got to arrive if the flint's going to make a spark, yeah?" With a smile, Noj moves on, nodding to Ingvar as he passes on his way to where the two women stood, one apparently doing her best to heal the other. He coughs, a little awkwardly. "Uh. You're a herbalist?" he says, apparently addressing Jyn. His tone is somewhat expectant.

[Ozzy_G]

Koal Nos
The bearskin-wearing man ignores the others clustered around the beast. He drops his gore-covered, bronze-shod maul on the ground, jumps on top of the dead wolf, and starts to lap up its blood. He growls like some beast as he pulls apart the corpse to get at the blood, bits of offal splatting on his furs.

[YPU]

Dane Deadeye
Dane lazily walks over to the ragtag group of heroes. His longbow is sheeted on his back. “say, anybody seen my arrow? I haven’t seen a tree in ages so I try to get back as many as possible.” He somewhat sheds one disgusted look at the bear warrior on the wolf. “and could somebody keep your pet in check?” he spits at everybody in general. Then his eyes take a sly look. “then again, this way we will know if its safe to eat these things..”

[Ozzy_G]

Koal Nos
The man... if that is what it is, looks up at the newcomer. I am no pet, mortal creature, it says disdainfully. There is no compassion, no empathy, no humanity in that voice. It is the voice of some predatory spirit. It's words said, it returns to licking up the blood.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar wraps the now cleansed guts in a piece of hide and stores them in his pack. He then motions over to the rider and mutters "Egrek" to his companions. He is about to follow Tono when he notices the cloaked man drinking blood. "I hate to interrupt your... ritual... But it seems we have more work to do."

[Ozzy_G]

Koal Nos, the Bear Spirit

My host needs sustenance first, intones the creature. He can continue his duties shortly. It returns to lapping up blood like a dog.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Patching up his wounds as best he can, Noj pulls his fur stole a bit closer around his shoulders. He walks a short distance across the crimson snow towards the distant impatient figure of Egrek, and then turns back to face the assembled warriors.
"Egrek, a man of the Avalanche, is looking for good warriors to be in the rear guard. It's two meals a day, and good sleep every third day. Follow, if you're interested."
Turning on his heel, Noj crunches across the settled snow towards the distant horseman.

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
Two meals a day?
The man wipes his bloody mouth distastefully. He walks off the corpse of the wolf, and wipes his gore-splattered boots on the ground. He seems almost a completely different person. He's still the man in the bear-skin, short and stocky and with a long beard and huge bronze-shod club, but his bearing is completely different. Before he was a predator, a demon, now he's just a man, rather short, with an eastern accent. The blood on his mouth looks incongruous, whereas before it looked somehow natural. He starts to walk after Noj, getting out a rag from a bag under his bearskin and cleaning his club. Does he want people to fight just the creatures of the plains, or keep order in the column as well?
He ignores any looks from the others. You notice that on his wrists he wears bracelets of human fingerbones.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj turns his head sideways to regard the fur-clad savage.
Half-way to Wendigo himself. So long as we can point him at the right enemy...

"Aye, two meals. And," he says, in the slow nonchalant tones of a gambler laying down his trump card, "One of 'em with meat. But no eating people in the caravan, right?"

[YPU]

Dane Deadeye
Dane walks over to Noj, then waits for him to walk on.
“Seems like a fair deal. No need to hunt for myself, and its not like I walk anywhere else then at the rear anyway. I haven’t been part of the line for long, so, I was wondering, how often do you get attacked. Is this like an everyday routine or a haphazard incident?” he huffs as if tired. “I mean guard is al good and well but to do this every day isn’t really my game.”

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
The short man ignores the jibe about eating people. One with meat? I'll join for that. He starts struggling through the deep snow towards the distant figure of Egrek.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj shakes his head, the matted red tassles of his hair drifting outwards with the motion.
"If you aren't willing to earn what you eat every day if need be, then Egrek's got no use for you. This isn't gonna happen everyday, but those peaks." He points at the looming spires of rock from whence the Avalanche came.
"They'll be swarming with Wendigo, and the column is a tempting target."

[YPU]

Dane Deadeye“Ah well, that’s why I carry this.” Dane pats his bow caringly. “its safes me the trouble of having to walk over to the beasts. That is, as long as I don’t run out of these.” He pats the quiver of arrows at his side. “but we shall see wetter or not I earn what I eat.”

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

{{Earlier statements}}

Turning to the one called Noj, Jyn answers, "My name is Jyn. I have been imparted with the knowledge on herbs and healing, but have always desired to expand my knowledge with the blade and bow. That is why I took up this Journey, but I did not expect to see so much hardship and blood so soon. I thought we may see fighting from bandits and such, but never expected a pack of wolves to attack such a large collection of man. They must either be starving to attack so many men, or driven to such an act by some dark force. Considering how strong they looked, I worry it was the later."

Adressing the people whose wounds she spent a moment to look at, she continues "I will need to look at those wounds again soon, to see if any added work needs performing."

{{Later statement}}

"Two meals a day? And safety of companions such as you all? I think I would like to be a part of such an endeavor." says the seemingly shy young woman.


forgot about the 1pt per minute thing for reserve points. Jyn will just have to address the wounds later, if possible to grant the 6 reserve points back.

If time permits, Jyn will secure some bone and sinew from the dead wolves to serve as instruments for her healing arts. She will also try and find any arrow that may have missed its mark.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj nods, apparently pleased.
"Good, good. But now...we should go see Egrek; make sure there aren't still Wendigo savaging the column somewhere."

[Gygaxphobia]

Act 2 - Desolation and Separation

Egrek Rothkin

Crossing the hundred yards to where the rider is gesturing to you, it seems like you've walked a mile.
The snow is thick and heavy, your leggings and boots get damper with each step. The weariness seeps into your bones, jostling for place with the cold and damp that permanently makes it home there.
Two minutes walk takes you into a scene of utter devastation, corpses litter the ground, cries of pain and despair echo across the open tundra and whistle around you with the wind.
Dead thick blood flows across the ground, dark pools of it collecting in hollows, melting the snow as the ice steals the warmth of lives.

Seeing you approach, the lead rider dismounts and the others turn to watch.

Nearby the butchery of a good horse continues, the flanks are diced neatly and packet of hide-wrappped meat are removed. You can see that one leg of the horse is bloody and savaged, almost certainly hamstrung. The killing blow is a short deep wound in the back of the neck, like a thick chisel to the spine.

The man dismounts and turns to you slowly, still holding his spear. His thick brown curls drip with sweat and a side of his wide tanned face is smeered with gore.
Behind him, one dirty blonde rider applies a poultice to the arm of a grinning red-haired fellow, who grimaces in pain.

Egrek grunts as you approach and gestures up behind him. He catches a thrown wineskin made from a small deer and takes a swig. "Ho thar. Ya got most of em ay see. Thas gud werk, but poor tidings fer us all."

He passes the skin to Noj and then looks at the newcomers. "Aye, we'll need all we can get now. Alone an cut off, we'll all be fighting soon. Ya need ya rest ay bet, but we cant spare ya much time. Thar's plenty ta be done now, if'n we're ta survive."

Two men move over to the group from the horse, offering packages of raw meat. They give one to each of the group wearing the fur stoles, but hesitate in front of the others, looking to Egrek for guidance.

[YPU]

So, we kill any angry beast on sight, within the limits of humanity. And as long as we do that you will make sure we are kept fed, within the limits of recourses. Seems like a good trade of, you still hiring? While talking Danes eyes are locked on the packages of meat. Only after his last question he looks at the man in charge.

[Kain_Tempest]

((First a quick addition prior to returning to the horsemen.))

I'm kinda caught between a rock and a hard place, y'know...
"How so?"
Well, I exist because I am intended to rend- don't forget the second prong... There... I am intended to rend flesh and take lives. But that means my more... Centric... Side gets all messed up and the overall appeal and quality of my handiwork is in danger.
"The rotten meat dillemma." Carefully, Thyr pulled out a small cloth bag with a solid lump of waxy gray material. Putting away the red rag, she pulled out a different one, dark and supple, and began rubbing it against the lump. She then began running the cloth across Faillune in order to seal the pocks and clean away the last bits of the wolves.
Yeah... Thyr finished and put away all over tools. Ah! Much better! Thyr admired her handiwork for a moment and then holstered Failune. She got up and dusted the snow off her leggings when she noticed that her left legging felt looser. Feeling around she noticed one of the bindings broke at the back and when she retracted her hand she felt blood. She cursed and felt again, feeling a short stab of pain as she interacted with the wound.
"Just a scratch." She convinced herself. She quickly pulled out yet another rag and quickly tied it around her leg to absorb the bleeding and make a temporary repair to her legging. Something to be deal with when she had a moment to rest.
She glanced around and noticed the majority of the group already heading towards the horsemen. Getting up, she followed suit.

((Now on with the show.))

Thyr took the bundle of meat and tested the weight in her hands. Satisfied, she checked the wrapping to make sure it wouldn't bleed out onto her equipment before unslinging her backpack and setting it on the top of her other equipment after wrapping it in some of the extra rags.
Thyr was suprised at how many pieces of cloth and leather she had collected. The little bits of salvage from the dead were very useful in caring for herself and Faillune, but never did she imagine she would have this many in one place. She would need to reorganize things in her bag soon.
She closed the bag and pulled it back onto her shoulder and stood. Faillune didn't have anything to say, which seemed odd. Thyr glanced around at those who had gathered. More misfits and strange people. More outsiders.
Ugh... Faillune uttered. Thyr couldn't agree more.

[Gygaxphobia]

Egrek looks the newcomer up and down before locking eyes with him.

"That wer then, deals changed now. We're stripping everything we can and lightening our loads, we got ta move fast. Tha pass closed when the Spears shed their skin, but the Journeymen and the Wayfinder are through an they won't wait fer us." He pauses to let this sink in.
"If we don't find anotha way thru and catch them, we're lost. Ya got to find a way through and clear tha way fer us. If ya light a beacon when ya get some ways an find a campsite, ay'll send some food up ta ya on a sled. An then we'll march afta ya."

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

Trudging along with the group, Jyn works hard to steel herself to the blood and gore she must bear witness to. As the spearwielding man speaks, Jyn barely hears him as she sets her sights on the child Ogmar. This little boy had been with a group that often fell behind during the Journey, and Jyn would spend many evenings offering physical and emotional care to him. He had lost his mother the week earlier to the frost, and only his elderly grandfather was left to see after the boy. Just yesterday it seemed to Jyn that Ogmar had grown enough that it was he who did most of the caring for and not the alternative. And to see him torn asunder, with his life blood coagulating on the frozen ground, snapped a cord within her. Unable to hold back the tears, Jyn walked over to the body and began pushing his intestines back within his exposed belly.

"Who could wish such a thing? He had so much to live for, and all he served ultimately was to color the ground with his life blood."

Still clutching the broken body, Jyn looks up and pleads, "Please let me know how I can be of assistance to stop such tragedy from befalling these people again?"

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
You want us to do some scouting then? grunts the short man. He turns and looks at the others. Right, well the faster we do it, the less likely we are to all die of exposure. So stop whining, he says to Jyn, and let's get on with it.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar looks at Vesha Kul, then he almost seems to smile, for a second. "I agree we need to get going soon... but although you already ate, the rest of our guts have been grumbling for a while now." THe tall huntsman looks at the ground, then again at the group of warriors.

"We are about to start seeking a path through these mountains. We need to be strong. We need to work as a group, or we will not live, even should there be no Wendigo... as if that were possible." He pauses and spits, unused to such long speech. He then resumes in his gruff voice.

"I do not claim leadership. But I know the wild. I'll give you all the best advice I can. The first piece is this... eat now. Rest at least an hour or two. Then we get going."

[Gygaxphobia]

Egrek turns to Jyn, "Ar ya a wyfe gel? Cos if it ain't clear ay'm sending warriors out, not wimmen wit weak stomachs. So go see ta cooking and sewing and tending wounds if ya can't look on death an not be sick."
He turns to the bear-man, "Ay ain't interested in what's in tha way, ay just want a clear run to a campsite we can defend. So clear it. Get ya heads down for a quick rest while the pans boil and then ya can move out on full bellies an hot tea."

He nods in agreement with Ingvar and gestures over to where his horse riders have a camp fire going. There's a dozen of them brushing their horses down and setting their camp on the side of a hill.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar strides to the campfire, and sets his share of the meat on a spit to roast. He also sets the wolf guts closeby to start curing them. He wraps himself in his cloak as the meat begins sputtering over the flames, and begins checking his bow and sword for battle damage. Satisfied of their condition, he oils the sword before returning it to his scabbard, wraps the bow in oilcloth, and checks on his meal.

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
The short man shrugs, and sits to warm himself near the fire, cleaning the blood out of his furs and beard.
He turns to Ingvar. Your group came down to fight the wolves from a different direction. Do you know of any promising routes we might be able to follow?

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

Jyn tenses up at Egrek's harsh words and even more at Tono's touch.

"I came on this Journey so I would not have to stay home and tend babies, food, and lore," she shouts, spitting the words in Egrek's direction. "If more men shed tears, maybe men would not drive others to act in such a manner and cause death like this. But I will honor this boy's death and do my most to stop such tragedy from befalling others. What path must we seek, so your kin can survive this cold day?"

Breathing these last words, she does not wait for an answer, but moves to say her tribes last rites over his body before moving on to the fire and food and warmth. She regrets being unable to bury Ogmar under the frozen ground, but hopes his body will nourish some other natural beast that then may feed her people in the future.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj watches the woman pray over the corpse of the boy in silence for a moment, and then he turns to take a seat and get some rest.
Easing himself down, Noj looks around at the serried group.
"Introductions, then? Too many unfamiliar faces for us to fight alongside each other. My name is Noj Onadare, I, along with Grakka here," he gestures to the armored giant, "are of the Avalanche people."

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Grakka nods to the newcomers, "'Allo, friends. As Noj said, I am Grakka. Sadly, I'm quite worse for the wear at th' moment, as is meh armor and weapon. Better introductions will have'ta wait for another time." Grakka walks over to the fire, puts the meat he was given onto the spit. He then begins to doff his armor and glaive, and removes his cleaning equipment from his pack. He also begins to settle down for his short rest, finally recovering from his snowy tumble earlier.

Jeez - I sleep late and miss like 25 posts. This group is ridiculous! But in a good way =D

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar takes his meat from the fire,and cuts off a piece with a keen hunting knife. He chews it slowly, enjoying the taste. He leans back against his pack, seeming relaxed for the first time that day.

"I am Ingvar. Most call me The Wolf. I hail from the Uthrac Highlands." He turns to Vesha. "We were working as rearguard, so we have not had a chance to examine the spires. But if there is a route man can walk, we will find it." Then he speaks to Noj, a rare smile splitting his beard. "So... how about passing that wineskin?"

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
"Almost done," Noj shoots back with a grin. he takes one last swig of the foul stuff and passes the skin along to Ingvar.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar accepts the skin gratefully, and takes a long swig, ejoying the warmth of the stuff. He offers it to Grakka, and continues eating with gusto as he waits to hear from the newcomers.

[Kain_Tempest]

Sounds like we're the new journeymen. Faillune joked. Thyr wasn't interested in the jibe or at the shouting of this woman. Though she was amused by her negative reaction to Tono. The bastard didn't know when to quit. Turning, Thyr sat down next to the fire, adding her own meat to the spit.
She sat down and began tending to her wounds, taking a partial interest in the conversations as she worked. Pulling from her bag a bundle of small blackened roots, she crushed them in her hand and added some snow to make a gray paste. Removing the bandage on her leg, she applied it, wincing a little as the stuff stun in her wounds. She wrapped the bandage even tighter around the wound and sat cross legged on the end of her cloak so her bottom wasn't in the snow. Occassionally, she would check the meat with a knife to see how cooked it was.
Err... Never a fan of horse meat, were you? I can't blame you.
"The meat of misfortune." Thyr mused, frowning.

((Four minutes should have passed allowing Thyr to burn enough reserve points to return to her max health. She also takes a ten on her heal check to recover her lost reserve points.))

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr sat for several minutes, just thinking. Faillune was laying next to her, also quiet, as to whether it was contemplating some universal truth of the universe, there was no real way to tell. The woman sighed and again took the dagger to check on the slab of meat. Finally satisfied she pulled it of the spit, seething a bit as she held onto the hot food. Although the heat was good, it was also rather painful. Wincing, she took off a length of the meat with her teeth, and carefully trying to ensure the only contact with the meat was with her teeth until it cooled in transit. After a moment she swallowed, and lifting her shoulder, wiped her mouth with her cloak, seeming to not want to release her hold on the meal.
She glanced at the others who pay have been staring at this point. Needless to say, her method for eating was to the most simplistic, dainty, or in any way civilized. Thyr glanced down at the food. Were it not for how hot she had cooked it, she would have been tearing at the meal with wild abandon.
Well, you're not going to win any class acts. Faillune quiped. The joke was lame and a wry look played on Thyr face for a moment before she took another strip of the meat off of the slab. She tried to do this more delicately, however in the end, her method of not burning her mouth took precedence over decorum.

[Kain_Tempest]

The meat at sufficiently cooled by now and Thyr could eat like a normal person rather than some kind of lipless animal. She watches Jyn and Tono reach the fire. She stares at Jyn for the longest time. It was unfortuante that someone who looked like they were willing to fight proved themselves to be so weak. The outburst in front of the thane was especially bad. All that emotion for something as lifeless as a rock.
You forget yourself. You cried to, at one time. Faillune mentioned. Thyr sighed and looked at the fire. The weapon was right, but it had been so long. In the wild without a wyrd and the game, all of the seasons had bled together, the time passed, she aged but for not how long. It was actually a shock when the mention of seasons brought her to some kind of understanding of the time that passed. She took another bite of horse meat and chewed it slowly.
She had her fill of weakness, and didn't want to be spooned more of it. It was one reason why she had chosen to keep her distance from the Column. Not only were they dangerous to her, but also their weakness of body, mind, and spirit, frustrated her.
She broke her gaze from Jyn and glanced to the additional misfits that would be joining the guard. The fool and his ore monger brother, the weasel, the lone wolf, the sloth, the hungry bear, the weeping girl, and herself. A clean and broken fist. Almost a full raid, eh? You might be closer to what you remember, than you think. This may be your family... Though one with many black sheep.
Thyr's mind wandered to the subject of leadership. Ingvar brought it up... Well, it makes sense... Faillune started but already Thyr warned herself about the follow of being too prideful. Her honours didn't mean anything to outsiders. She found her gaze wandering to Tono. The thane wouldn't condone it, however... Faillune trailed off. Cloak and dagger was best left to pitiless dogs, but cosmos help if Tono became leader.

[YPU]

Dane dropped down next to the fire. Whipping out his bow the starts oiling it a bit but quickly decides he is finished since he hasn’t used the bow that much anyway. He then pulls out some of his arrows for inspection. He carefully drapes the feathers into shape and uses a whetstone to make sure the heads are kept sharp. “I’m Dane, used to be called deadeye Dane, had the sharpest pare of eyes in my clan. Unfortunately the eddars found that I also had the most lazy as in whole myria, so they exiled me. And now I’m apparently finding a trail trough the mountains.” He puts back his arrows. “but how in the name of the spirits are you going to travel light?” he asks to the man cleaning his suit of armor.

[Gygaxphobia]

The fire cackles to itself, hissing and spitting it's wicked laugh and throwing it's ghostly light back and forth across the ice.
There is some yellowed grass on this hillside, seeping like a sore from earthy banks, plastered to the ground and with a sheen of ice.

The riders move in a kind of harmony inside an invisible prison. The wide open hillside is lost to them; they are trapped within a circle of light and heat, and they try their upmost to remain within it no matter how crowded it may get.

Natural light is failing. Perhaps two hours of sunlight remain, and even then there are hills between you and the sun, so it may be shorter. The circle around the fire is isolated from the bustle of activity at the bottom of the slope, the Warriors hold thmselves apart, steeling their minds for the night's tasks.

One rider has finished his work and sits whittling at a piece of wood, flecks going into the fire. A deep voice comes across the fire pit, not from this man though, but from somewhere behind him hidden in shadow.

"I had the mixed fortunes to come across one who saw them once." He begins.
"He feared to use their name, and spoke only of the Wind that Walks. This person -a man still with signs of youth- is a shaman of sorts. He saw the things once long ago, and he is haunted by them in his dreams. He lived in fear that they would come for him one day.
"When he was a child he lived in a small clan of ten. Three families living in the wild, by their wits and skill at craft they found what they needed. One week they stalked the elk that fled into the forest, following their tracks in the pristine snow that had hardened until it crunched under their heels. They had travelled two cloudless days and nights, but never found the herd. They found trees with broken bark at man's height and they were wary of bears prowling for food, although no tracks suggested it.
"On the third day they found the herd they stalked. Dead. Consumed in a valley in the middle of the forest. Their bodies had been torn apart, their flesh rent, and their bones broken. Not a track showed anything leaving the grove, only those the elk entering but never escaping. The sky had been silent, no wind nor rain nor fresh snowfall to hide the tracks. The band sought to leave the accursed woods, but already they had overstayed their welcome.
"On the third night, They came. The moon was full and the land was dark. Although the sky was clear above them black clouds circled like scavenging birds, tempted to come close to a dead meat, but afraid for predators that lurked there. The wind whipped back and forth, like the zip of archers at battle, from one direction to another the winds fought for dominance. Giants of shadow appeared: three beings, twelve feet tall, approached from three directions of the wind. Under moonlight could be seen brown skin drawn taut over bone and muscle with shaggy white fur. Their feet standing on top of the snow, never making tracks and nor a sound. Their breath glowed in the darkness coming out of lipless, fanged mouths that seemed twisted in a malicious grin, with eyes that glowed in the darkness, with or without the moon or firelight.
"Lightning flashed so bright it seared the eyes red, even when closed. The pop of thunder was close behind. Descending on the band as they made camp, talons disembowled the adults while great paws scooped up the children and stuffing them into bone crushing mouths. Hiding beneath the blanket, the little boy could only stare in horror at the bloody banquet the things were making from all he knew.
"When the carnage was over, one of the creatures turned and looked down at the little boy where he hid and pointed a long clawed finger at him. Without lips, tongue, or the movement of it's jaw, the thing spoke, the wind being it's voice.
"'Ten winters and the mother is full, we shall return. Your flesh or that of all you have will be your sacrifice for mercy. Feed us and you shall be rewarded.' It and its pair then departed back into the night, leaving the flutter of tent flaps and those dead spirits beihd them.."

"Needless to say, myself and my entourage were disconcerted when we realised that it had been ten years since the event occurred, on that very night that this poor man was telling us. And more so, for the next night the moon would be full. I entered a lengthy discussion with my wife and followers and it was decided that they would not stay and risk facing their deaths if the Wind that Walks did return. But being a story teller, I needed to see it for myself.
"And so I stayed in the village of the victim. I stayed with the night watch around the fire in the middle of town, as the moon rose high. One of them said a curious thing to me. With trembling breath I was told of the shaman 'He speaks of what can save us from them all. It's like a riddle. The weasel, the fool and his ore monger kin; one wolf, a bear who feasts and the girl who will never weep again. Bring the sloth, and the tender let her mourn and let her tend. With bellies full of metals they will mend what must be mend... Have you ever heard of these?' "
"The others mocked and jeered, but there was something in their eyes that lent the truth. And that shaman new a good deal of Truth himself. I lay great store by his words.

"But as the moon rose to it's highest did we hear in the distance the sound of three beasts howling. The watchmen assured me that it was normal, that wolves frequented the nearby forest since the start of the winter, and they always howled at the full moon. I wasn't so sure...
"Somehow, sleep over took me. Even though I had prepared myself to stay awake the whole night, slumber finally took me as the moon began it's descent amidst the baying of the distance wolves.
"When I awoke I was alone and lightly dusted with new fallen snow. The sky was overcast and the snow must have come in soon after morning. Around me were the half covered tracks of where the watch had been, standing near the now dead fire. But there were no tracks leading away. I called out and heard no answer. No livestock, no children, and no smoke from any chimney. I quickly searched the village, but to no avail, everyone was missing with no sign of where they had gone. Everyone but the young man. In his home I found him, or at least, what was left of him.
"His skin lay on the floor as if being prepared to be tanned. All the bones and flesh were gone, and only his torn skin lay in a thin pool of blood on the floor of hut. But that was all. Everything else had been like it was the night before. I will never know why I was spared, but I had no memory of seeing the Wind that Walked. I only have the faintest guess, but all of them would likely prove false.
"That night, I was reunited with my band and we started back on our way. That night the wind brought to us the sound of the baying wolves from the empty village. But this time, there was a fourth singing the song of the night."

The silence returns, deeper and darker than before. Slowly men begin to draw weapons across their laps. With rags, oil and pumice stones they tend with careful patience to those who stand between them and death.

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
The short man has been quiet, listening to the story brought to them from the other side of the fire. At the end of the tale, his lips widen into a sort of devilish grin, made sinister by the flickering light of the fire. But he says nothing, only continues to eat and clean his furs and beard.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Not draws forth an arrow from a quiver on his back and, with a stabbing motion, skewers himself a chunk of meat or two, searing them in the coals of the fire as he listens to the whittler's tale.
"A Grim story," Noj comments, crossing his legs beneath himself as he basks in the warmth of the fire, "But not the only one of Wendigo in these dark winters. Grakka and I 're from the Kumsbin Mounts. People of the Avalanche know what we know; the mountains are alive there. They're ancient and slow, but they have power. They remember when this land had sun and warmth, but like the sky, their great stone hearts have turned cold and hard. Now, they welcome the Wendigo onto their slopes, and the Kumsbin Wendigo are some of the worst in the land." Noj leans back a little, taking a hot juicy mouthful of meat, letting the warmth permeate his mouth as he chews, his eyes closed in contentment.
"There's the Shiverbits and the Chalkmen and the ice witches, 'f course," Noj continues, taking another piece of meat,
"But there's ane worse; We call them Trimber."

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Grakka accepts the wineskin from Ingvar, removing his portion of the meat with his dagger at the same time, flipping it onto the flat side of the blade. "Aye - Noj and I've spent many a day in pitched battle wik the many Wendigo, but nev'r anythin' like dat. Best we hope this journey is fortunate enough to avoid such dangers." Grakka takes a large swig from the wineskin, trying to pass it onto Thyr, but if she refuses, to anyone nearby. Using his now-free hand, he grabs a handful of snow and crushes it in his hand, using the water to cool the steaming meat. "It is said among out people, 'You are what you eat.' If horse be the meat of desperation, at least it be a meat of swiftness and heartiness." Looking at the archer, Grakka pats his armor and says "Hah! Ye'd be surprised how light this can be. P'raps you'd know if yeh weren't as lazy as you admit!", smiling.

We get Level + Con Mod reserve points for resting, though I'm not sure the short rest we're getting for tonight counts. If not, I'll ask Jyn for the care needed to treat the scrapes and whatnot from the tumble.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

"What can save us from them all..." At the following words, Ingvar narrows his eyes. He looks around the group, but of the others only Minas Thyr seems to have noticed. A man who believes in coincidence is a foolish man, he thinks.

"Afore we sleep, we need to speak. Of tactics. We know we will face the Wendigo in those hills."

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj grunts agreement. "Yeah. Once we get into the hills, Grakka and I have some experience. The best thing, where you can, is keeping archers on the hilltops. Most Wendigo have to be up close to kill you, and if you can start attacking them from far away, your job's easier." Noj takes another mouthful of stringy seared meat, the juices running down the side of his mouth.
"Always keep a boulder or two on the hilltop. Vesha or Grakka or Thyr would do fine. They drive away the Wendigo that seek to get close. The rest should keep the slopes clean. Some Wendigo are smart enough to try and flank, and so we need to watch all sides of the hill. I can patrol there and give relief where needed."

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

Spending her life hearing and memorizing lore, Jyn was quickly pulled into the story across the fire. She settled in to hear the words that filled the night. "I think I remember this story. My Niok first shared this with me 6 or 7 winters past. If what this man says is true, then it was no bedtime story to put fear in the hearts of defiant little kids.' As the story continued to describe the later events, a cold sweat begins to form on her brow.

Shaking away the perspiration, Jyn acknowledges the others and agrees that tactics will be of importance. "I rely mostly on my bow, as I have only trained with my morningstar, but have not shed blood specifically with it. I fear that I will be best at shooting at open targets, not ones directly engaged in close combat with us. And if archery will be relied upon partially, we should move to collect more supplies for arrows before we depart. Anyone with skill at making arrows?"

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

"Sounds like a good strategy for defense. But we also have to consider we'll be on the move, finding a path through these hills. They may hit us in a ground not of our choosing. I should go up front, looking for the path, and for tracks. Someone else skilled in woodslore should walk with me." for those handy aid another checks :smallsmile:

"We need someone tough as rearguard, as well. The rest should march bow or spear in hand, to meet any charge with well-placed shafts." The tall, lean man warmed to his topic. "I will try to keep us away from ambush sites, but as the Avalanche men can confirm, that is sometimes impossible in hill-country. Jyn, that was good advice you gave back there. Take what time you need to study any attackers, as long as you are not beset." He finishes his roasted horsemeat with relish. "Once the melee starts I wont presume to tell anyone what to do... but I would avoid headlong charges while arrows are still in the air. Any other suggestions?"

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
With someone scouting, we can make the ambushes ourself, grunts the short man, stroking his long beard. I used to live in the mountains far to the east, and it was a tactic my tribe would often use against the Uhyrer, when moving between camps. We have few bows, we don't have the right type of wood. So we use large clubs and spears, and must attack at close range. He gestures around. I note that some of us have bows, but not enough to count on them alone.
So, he continues, a scout or hunter, he gestures at Ingvar, creeps along the route that the group wishes to travel. If he sees signs of some Uhyrer, he returns to the group, and they climb a ridge or something to get above the creatures. Then they jump out from behind the tall rocks and snow drifts and ambush the creatures. If the terrain consists of many rocky areas, then bows will be of little use, and this would be a better plan. It also works well if there is a lot of snow. If the area is clear though, with little cover, then bows are better I would think. He shrugs. I know little of battle tactics though. I only suggest this because these mountains seem similar to my own.
Oh, he says, pausing. I guess I better introduce myself. Vesha, of the Kul clan.

[Kain_Tempest]

S'try mal vetlik... Not even Faillune could finish such a black oath. Thyr stared across the fire, trying to spot the storyteller. If felt eerie that her very methods to describe the majority of her associates were used by the same person. How could that be? That couldn't just be a coincidence but...
Thyr was about to get up and seek out the storyteller when the conversation turned to tactics. She remained silent and conflicted for several moments, trying to determine whether or not it was worth her time to seek out the storyteller. But in the end, she would have to associate it as a coincidence and nothing more. There were more pressing things to worry about than some second hand prophecy.
"We all come various backgrounds," Thyr began between bites of horse meat. "I came from the north eastern tundra. I won't lie in the fact that I know little of the mountains." She consumed another chunk. "The monsters we just fought are the worst sort of enemy for me to deal with. I was trained to deal with bringing down the larger, more intimidating creatures. I can stand in the rear or the front, it doesn't matter. My first choice will always be the largest foe." She consumed another piece and then pointed to the armiger. "You ought to be in the front of the main group. You are an obvious threat and would be the preferred target. Especially if we can bottleneck, or in some way make the easier prey difficult to reach." Thyr made a quick glance at Tono and Jyn before returning to her meat for a few moments.

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

"I would be happy where needed, but do not take kindly to your veiled references woman," she utters to Thyr with obvious frustration at feeling weak compared to the others. Under her breath she continues, "Are you sure you do not have a third member between your legs? You are just like my uncle Niko."

Having finished eating her share, Jyn sees to her supplies and begins sorting through the various scraps of cloth and salves she uses in her arts. Looking at the discarded fair, she tries to collect more for future use.

Thinking to herself, 'Not only is Thyr like one of my family, but so do the others remind me of my clan. Noj is not as handsome as my brother Hueme, but they have the same carefree approach, and Dane likely sits on his arse as well as dead cousin Grigor. The others have quirks that I can place among my loved ones, excpept for the bear of a man. The only thing he reminds me of is Ol' Thorn, our hunting bitch. The fever pitched look in her eyes was so similar to the one Vesha had during our battle. Remarkable....

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

"You are correct, Vesha. The terrain we travel through will determine our tactics as much as what foes we face." Ingvar checks on the drying wolfguts, and adjusts their distance from the fire. He continues with a grim smile. "And I for one would not mind being the ambusher... an art at which I have some skill."

He melts some snow in a pot borrowed from a wrecked cart, and retires from the campfire. When he returns 2-3 minutes later, he is shivering, but looks significantly cleaner. He then wraps himself in furs and bedroll close to the fire.

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr had to response to Jyn's insinuation. She didn't care, and the thought was easily shown with a shrug. Finishing her meal and wiping her mouth with the bag of her hand, the woman produced the red stained rag from her belt again. Thyr set Faillune on her lap and began a much more careful cleaning of the weapon, wiping every nook and crannie of the silvery pick.
Thyr was aware that this was more obsession than necessity, but if one snowflake could lead to an avalanche, a small weakness could lead to catastrophe. Faillune was too precious. She didn't know what she would do without it as her companion. Insanity would probably be the natural course. She couldn't relate to people. Especially outsiders.
After several moments of silence, Thyr began humming a small tune, very soft, eventually turning into a half-song.

"...Called me hard hearted, the kin that I left...
to carve out hm hmhm hm hmm...
...Said I was cru'ill, hm hmhm hm hm...
As cold as the blade that I bore...

Hm hm hm hm hmhmhm, death walks at my shoulder,
'n the taking of life is my trade...
Hm hmm hm not harder, 'n ice's not colder...
'n the heart of hmhmhm hmmm..."

She lifted Faillune from her lap and examined the weapon again from afar. Satisfied she put away the rag and holstered Faillune again. Seating herself crosslegged. She felt the bandage on her leg one more time before placing her pack on her lap. She leaned foward, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her head in her hands.
The resting position was awkward, but she found it to be quite effective. Less contact with the ground, body is closely compacted, and easily able to look around if disturbed.

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
Vesha peers at the sword as Thyr cleans it.
There is a strong spirit in that sword, he says suddenly. I can smell it, an angry spirit that drinks blood. You must be a brave woman to dare wield it.

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr looked up at the bear warrior, a tad puzzled.
Iiiiit's probably culture thing... Faillune concluded. I mean... When you're being looked at by someone who eats mange ridden wolves, who's to judge, right? Thyr sat up and held Faillune in her hands.
The weapon was cold. A two foot long shaft of black metal. A spiralling series of grooves near the lower end formed an crude, yet artful grip. At the one end with the grip, the weapon was capped with a simple ring of dark silver. Further along the shaft, at the ends of the grip and at the very middle were more of the dark silver rings. Finally, there was the head.
The weapon was intimidating as Thyr held Faillune up in a headman's salute. The weapon possessed two heads of dark silver, the core of each looking like elongated droplets of water, with both producing long, curving blades. In profile they looked like blades on a war scythe, but from the front, one could see that the base of the blades were a diamond shape that tapered into a point. It gave the heads weight, and the devestating edge. The back of the two heads were embellished by fat hooks, like arcing droplets and was topped by a conical spike on the top, which looked too dull to be practical.
"My family belives a weapon with a spirit is not a tool of war. A weapon can only kill if it hungers for ghosts and snaps at their heels as they flee beyond... A weapon that has been fed..." She lowered the weapon to her lap. "Is an overgrown skinning knife." She ran her hand along the blades.
Even though I don't possess a true spirt... Thyr nodded.
"That isn't to say I weapon cannot have a name and a personality. It is Faillune." She gave a weak smile. "'Drinks Beneath Blood Moon'... It was either named after a wendigo story or revelling ancestor... So you are half right." She ran her palm up and down the black shaft. "It's... An inheritance... From my father's side... Very old, but dauntless."
You can call me annoying and ceaseless if you like... Faillune teased. Thyr's face hardened again.
"Faillune is my guardian, my friend, and my life..." The statement had a tone of both endearment and a threat.
You want me, you get me... Through the skull.

[YPU]

“I might ad that I’m somewhat of a woodsman myself, after being exiled I spend a lot of time on my own in the forests. Actually, I wonder now why I haven’t seems as much monsters there as I do here.” Dane looks puzzled for a moment, then he lets out a big yawn . “But what’s our final plan anyway? Two go scouting in front, we try to ambush anything in our way. And once the line is moving trough we keep the warriors at the sides and the archers on top?” He yawns again. “I hate climbing mountains, I think I am going to catch some sleep now.” Dane lays back on his thick woolen cloak. And roles closer to the fire.
although apparently sleeping Dane is in fact paying attention quite closely.

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
Believe what you want, says the stocky man calmly, I smell the spirit of the sword.
He leans forward, peering into the fire, and starts to mutter to himself in some guttural tongue that you don't understand.

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
What is a sword? An instrument of death. Therefore any instrument of death is a sword. He taps his massive club. This is a sword. A bow is a sword. He doesn't look at Tono as he speaks, but keeps peering into the fire. Your mind is blinded by your eyes. You cannot see reality for what it is.

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
The short man raises one eyebrow. Why would you call everything that bleeds a man? That's stupid. He still does not look at Tono, but continues to peer intently into the fire.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The tall man was feeling warm once more, and stretched out to make ready for sleep. He shook his head in amusement at the exchange between Thyr, Tono, and Vesha. Hopefully the madman would not go baresark and try to eat any of them during the night...

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

Jyn listened intently to all the discussions around the fire about tactics. Thinking hard on the lore instilled by the Lorekeepers of her village and overhearing her father's discussions with his sons, she too has been thinking of battle plans.

"Whatever battle plans we decide, we must fight as a pack to stand a chance against these wolven wendingo. We should probably focus our attacks as small groups on single foes, as opposed to each fighting as a iceberg surrounded by frigid water. Having eight among us, we could decide on 2,3, or 4 groups. Each with a central figure, that the others move around fighting as best they know how. I worry that we would spread ourselves too thin in foreign territory if we send scouts one way and have archers one place, and bear warriors elsewhere. If we fail in spotting something, a single person or small group could be sequestered away from the ohters with no chance for rescue. I doubt we will have to worry about ranged ambush, so if we allow the prey to come to us, we could pick them off on the approach before one's such as Thyr or Ingvar absorb the assault. I do not proclaim I have any actual battle experience, but I have studied such knowledge intensely."

[Kain_Tempest]

Definately a culture thing. Definately. Definately! Faillune uttered. Though I'm not too keen on being called a sword, after all, I know what I am. Course, both swords and axes get a lot more attention than us picks in stories. It must be a guy thing, ain't it? But still, why a sword? I mean, he doesn't seem to be the type that would place a sword above all other weapons, and the fact that his implements don't include a sword, where does he get the basis of comparison? You really picked a good bunch of screw ups, that you did! Faillune rambled on. Thyr rolled her eyes at the argument between Tono and the bear warrior.
She glances towards Jyn. Finally, the child was making some sense.
"Having someone watch another's back would be a good course. We've been make so many assumptions that we will not be the ones being ambushed. We do have mountain folk and trackers, but that isn't to say that we will eventually be in a conflict that we have no control over." Thyr yawns and placed Faillune back onto her belt. She looks over towards Tono.
"My family lives... Lived..." She corrected. "In the northeastern tundra. I doubt you met them. They didn't like outsiders... Troubles with raiders... Disputes with neighbours..."
Excellent half truths to be telling a wad of crow that thinks he knows everything. Especially when you can't tell whether or not he's just crowing or not. Even though Thyr knew that was coming from her head, she couldn't understand what Faillune was talking about now. Forget it.

[YPU]

Even tough laying on his back with his eyes closed Dane has been paying attention to the conversation, now that a lot of them seem to be going to sleep he is getting a little worried. “shouldn’t we set a watch? That thing might hold a grudge against us, or you guys at least. and those riders cant be everywhere at once” he says and softly ads, “thanks the god for that."I value my rest but I would rather not start my last sleep yet.” All this is said in an irritated tone of somebody who is disturbed in his sleep, even tough his eyes are still closed.

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
At last the short man peels his gaze away from the fire, a pleased look on his face. He rolls up in his bearskin. Lack of sleep will cause death later, he says nonchalantly, as he closes his eyes.

[YPU]

One of danes eyes opens half towards vesha.
“Now I hope that wasn’t a encrypted message that you snore like the creature you wear. Tough that thing does look warm, a bit smelly perhaps.” The eye close again.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
The red-haired man remains silent as the conversation drifts across the campfire, but he sits with head bowed, stole gathered close about his shoulders.
It soon becomes obvious that he is fast asleep.

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr's eyelids began to get heavy. After a few more moments of attention to the atmospheric conversation, she gave in to sleep with a sigh.

The coursers snorted and stamped their feet. Still strung from the run, their riders had to work hard to keep their mounts under control while still holding the reins of the riderless steeds. All this while keeping a wary but distant eye on the crowd of lowlifes that had gathered.
Dawn was just breaking, the sky alight with purples, and yellows and all colours in between. The sun would be up in a few hours, but now it was the serene time. Puffs of clouds, coloured neon, floated across the clear sky, promising a warm day and bitter night. The air was frosty and the wind drew the brewth out into the lonely tundra to the west. Carrying the air into the trees and to the noses of hungry beasts.
Tolusk Voryn's feet crunched on the snow as he approached the gathering. Behind him were his two cohorts. Thyr couldn't remember their names. She stood behind Voryn with another one of the senior warriors.
"Arright, glad to see you all made it." His tone was friendly, not sarcastic or in anyway cruel. There was no humour in his comments.
"For those new to this band, let me remind you that we do not give our ear to your complaints. The fact that you have your family and your children speaks highly of your gains. As such, you should not feel that we are cheating you. I don't want to hear any comments about rationalization. You would do to us, what we do to you if the situation was reversed." Voryn was always careful to lay down the rules when it had been a long time since they visited a community. Thyr heard this speech almost twelve times, the vast majority of the villages they came to had neverhad much contact with them.
"As it has been done long before, here is how things will go. We have ten strong horses, easily capable of carrying a warrior and many man's worth of goods. You will have until the sky is bright to provide our adequate worth. We will take all that we can carry of the offered goods. If you do provide enough to offer, then we shall search your homes for the remaining amount. Our methods are brutal, and people will get injured and your homes will be damaged if it comes to that." Thyr was glad that her band leader was so blunt, she couldn't stand the bland euphemisms used by some of the other band leaders.
"What are you waiting for? Bring it here!" Voryn barked. The villagers looked to the elder. A wizened man leaning against a wooden staff. Like snow on a sapling, time had bent him and as he hardened, he could not stand straight anymore. Even as old as he was, the elder's eyes were clear and hard.
"Do it." He growled. The villagers quickly dispersed into their homes. One by one they brought bags of vegetables, cords of wood, reams of leathers, and packages of meat.
Thyr's band stood in silence, watching the procession. The bounty of goods slowly collecting at Voryn's feet. Every set of eyes were watching the villagers carefully. They had made the pile very close to Voryn. There was no telling when one of them would draw a knife.
No knife ever came however.
"There. Is that good enough?" The elder waved his hand over the pile of goods. A few more people were still comeing with a few more odds and ends, however Voryn had already crouched down and was making a quick count of all the items.
"Hmm... Yes this should be ade- Hold on." As another item was placed on the pile, Voryn looked up and immediately grabbed one of the villagers. She cried out.
Thyr blinked as Voryn rose, holding the wrist of a young girl. She was rather pretty. A little older than she was. By about two winters she imagined. She had sweet honey coloured hair and an attractive face. Thyr could imagine that several of the other raiders had been eyeing her during the gathering of the offers. Strange that Voryn didn't notice until now.
The tension rose considerably in the moments soon after. What looked to be the father of the girl was frozen, mid stride, looking like he wanted to lunge at Voryn. But the pained look in his eyes revealed that he should have known this could have happened. Half of the villagers present looked like they were ready to fight, and the rest wanted to flee or hide.
Voryn simply looked at the young woman for several long minutes, before smiling. "My son would do well to have a beautiful wife." His words were even but they sounded kind, this only made the girl feel even more uncomfortable. Voryn looked up to the crowd. "She is coming with us." He announced.
"No!" Came a shrill cry. Followed immediately by the startled cry of a woman. From one of the houses to Thyr's right burst a little girl, only about ten winters old, charging across the snow towards the young woman and Voryn. At first Thyr thought this was simply going to be a hard lesson for the child. But when she saw the flash of metal in the balled up fist of the child, Thyr responded immediately. The child had just brushed past her when the hatches came out from her belt loop while her other hand reached out and snacked the child be the hair. The sound of the axe blade slamming into the childs back was sickening.
Wide eyed, Thyr watched as the body went limp and felt to the snow, the hatchet protruding from her back, across the shoulderblades. Thyr looked up and saw every set of eyes staring at her and the child. She never knew tension when Voryn grabbed the girl. Not until now.
Thyr was trembling. Even her fellows were completely shocked by what she had done. Thyr could see the child's face, lying sideways in the snow. She looked up at the woman in Voryn's grip. The pit in her stomach grew deeper. Even with tears welling in the young woman's eyes, the relation was clear. They had been sisters.
Thyr swallowed the lump in her throat. And stood up straight, her gaze passing across the villagers. Her hand started fingering her dagger. Her compatriots looked to the villagers and they looked at them. This was about to get very ugly.
"No!" Barked the elder, pointing his staff at the villagers. They looked at their cheif, stunned as to why he was not allowing them to give justice. Thyr knew they wanted to repay not only this murder but for all the suffering her people had caused. It looked like a harsh betrayal. "They can only take what we gave them." The elder uttered. The villagers looked at Thyr and then at the pile of offerings. The villagers straightened and lowered their heads. They were undone. A woman wailed somewhere.
Voryn turned towards his troops. "Don't just stand there! Get the goods!" His mask of serenity vanished, he dragged the girl towards the coursers. The woman simply stared down at her dead sister, crying silently and stumbling in the snow. The rest of the cohorts immediately followed their leaders orders but Thyr hesitated.
The words of the old man had sunk in. The child gave her life for the sake of her sister, she made her life available and Thyr snapped it up. She took the life of a child and did so without hesitation. She took what was given, as all of her kind did. One part damning, but many more parts enlightening. Thyr took a refreshing breath, the spectre of the child quickly losing hold. Glancing around, she saw the villagers slowly begin evaporating back into their homes. Only the father and a weeping mother kneeling in the snow remained, watching from afar.
Thyr stepped to the dead girl, and unceremoniously put her foot on the carcass and yanked her axe out. Examining the gore that remained on the head she looked back down to examine the cut.
Aside from such a precise cut, Thyr couldn't help but notice the child had red hair. It was difficult to see under the dirt and grime, but there it was.
Out of the corner of her eye, Thyr saw something glitter in the snow. Glancing down she saw the piece of metal that had been clutched in the little girl's hand. Thyr's breath caught in her throat.
The piece of metal was a intricate silver disk attached to a leather chord. Surrounding it was a series of beastial fangs set in rows on the chord. The Mark.

Both Thy're eyes and head snapped up. She blinked and shook her head, glancing around her surroundings. Most of the cadre were asleep or soon would be. The dream had only been occurring for a few moments, the fire barely having aged since she closed her eyes.
Thyr took a deep breath and settled again. She closed her eyes and hoped that her next dream would be about something less frightening than her past. Even a dream about Tono, as disturbing as it would be, would be welcome.

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
When Thyr briefly opens her eyes, she sees that the short man has thrown off his bearskin, and stands naked from the waist up in front of the dying fire. His hands are raised over it, and he is moving his lips as if chanting, but he makes absolutely no sound. His heavily muscled, stocky body, looks somehow inhuman in the light, as if he were rather some mythical humanoid of long ago.

[Malachamavet]

Grakka of the Avalanche People

Grakka shrugs as he pulls out his bedroll, lays his armor inside his pack to keep it dry, and dozes off to sleep.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The keen-eared huntsman awakens as Thyr starts.


sense motive [roll0]


with that roll, I'm sure he has no idea she has a guilty conscience :smallsmile:

Ingvar grunts and then turns to his side, again falling asleep. He dreams of simpler times. Of the hunt. A bent blade of grass here, a broken twig there. A half-hidden footprint. The mark of a bear's claws on a tree-trunk.
Hunting for food. Ambushing raiders. The simple life at Gniepr's mill, with its loggers, farmers, craftsmen, and of course, winsome lasses. It was a good life. He draws strength and comfort from the memory.

[Gygaxphobia]

The black iron cauldron above the fire bubble and steams, water splashing over the side hisses into the heat.
The clanking of tinny metal disturbs your sleep enough to blink eyes open. The grogginess of sleep clutters the eyes still, and the scene of the camp fire is much as before. Perhaps an hour has past.

A brutish frizzy-haired red-head wraps a thick hide around his hands and lifts the cauldron to place it on the ground. From a sack he takes tankards, placing them around the pot, then looks up and grins a gap-toothed smile as you awake. He takes lumps of herbs with his hands, sharing them out to the mugs and pouring steaming water on top.
Those of you sitting up are given a mug steaming into their hands. Others have their's placed besides them.

The brew smells oaty and rich, and is a dark brown. It has an earthy bitterness to taste, but is meaty and energising.

The red-head crouches to watch you all, his back to the fire. Anyone who doesn't wake quickly receives a nudge.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj arises with the dazed look of a man only halfway successful in getting the cotton fluff of sleep out of his brain. He reaches out a long-fingered hand and grasps the mug gratefully, clasping the warmth to his chest like an elixir of life between swigs. Clambering slowly to his feet, Noj stretches and tests the soreness in his limbs. Not as bad as it could have been.
taking another chewy drink from his mug, Noj surveys his new companions, but what his thoughts are about them is hard to gague.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar wakes easily, and out of old habit feels for the direction of the wind, and scans the hills and treeline with his hard green eyes. He then reaches for his mug and takes a long pull of the steaming mug. He nods at Noj, then addresses the scarlet-tressed newcomer.

"Hearty stuff, this. What is it?"

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr roused and shuddered.
You were asking for it. Faillune chided. She stared at the brew handed to here for several moments before taking a smell. She looked up at the stranger and then tentatively look a sip.
"Agh! For blood!" She cursed. "How could you possibly mess up glogg like this?"

((Glogg: Nordic wine served warm and spiced. Also known as mulled wine.))

[Grymmheart]

Jyn awoke earlier as her bladder was urging her to empty it. After replacing her skirts to the proper positions, she turns as the high-pitched noise catches her attention. Rejoing the others at the campsite, Jyn reaches for the warm mug of brew. Savioring the taste, Jyn accepts the bitter bite as she would the many herbal concoctions she learned to brew. The taste was unfamiliar overall, but had a refreshing quality.

"What medicinal herb is this made from? she asks the man that prepared it for the group.

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
The short man awakes with a snort, and groggily rises, shaking the snow off his bearskin. He walks over and picks up a mug. Thanks, he grunts, and chugs it down. He turns and looks at the others, his face an unreadable mask. So, what's the final plan?

[Gygaxphobia]

The wild eyed silhouette by the fire grins horribly with his rotten-toothed smile and stares silently as people come awake.
The sky is much dimmed now, although blue and clear above the western peaks it blends towards the east into a smooth deep blue and grey. With luck you have an hour of light.

"Ees genvast for making you not so sleepy", says Ulf. "You hav hast de time fer sleeping already. Now to move. De best path to take south ist da gully ver de volfun ver coming from. Da Thane did say that you shoudl start from der." He seems pleased by the prospect of sending you off.
Standing he points down the slope to the east and gestures southwards. You were on the other side of the gully when you first attacked the wolves.

[YPU]

Dane, tough probably one of the first to wake to the man is also the last to sit up. “time to go already?” he happily takes the cup and gulps it down almost entirely at once. “aaaah, that helps a wee bit. So, we go of and find a good road for the people, wolf over here will scout ahead with somebody else. Then once we have a road we set a fire to signal… *blurb*” Dane swipes his mouth “and then I and some other archers protect from above while the others protect the sides? Seems simple enough, but then why does a simple plan take al that talking from me.” Dane lazily falls back onto his bed. “Cant I sleep just a little more, aaargh i gues not.”He slowly starts to get ready to move. Packing some stuff and adjusting his gear mostly.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar finishes the brew, then sets about making ready. He straps on his oft-mended breastplate of boiled kine-hide, and the matching armguards. Over this his broad shagreen belt, furs, and stole. He checks all his weapons as he dons them: broadsword at his left hip, axe at the small of his back, knife in his right boot top. Bow and quiver go at his back, with his light pack. He melts snow to fill his waterskin, then faces his comrades.

"South it is, then. I guess as we discussed yesterday, one of you should be ahead with me. Someone with keen eyes and skilled in hunting. I suggest Thyr and Kul follow, then Jyn with Dane, Noj, or Tono -whichever isn't ahead with me - and Grakka can serve as rearguard." He looks impatient, eager to start the hunt. "What say you?"

[YPU]

Dane lets out a very long yawn and stretches out. “ah, well, I suppose you do need someone with sharp eyes, and hunting skills. And if there is anything to be seen is important that we spot it. Ok, I suppose I should go with you. Unless anybody else with dares claim the same quality of eyes and would be so kind to relief me of this burden?” while speaking he caresses his left cheek, which he overstretched while yawning.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Apparently ignoring Tono's question, Noj rubs his chin.
"I'll stick with Grakka."

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
Vesha wraps his bearskin snugly around himself, and picks up his huge bronze-shod club, the runes marking it looking like some ancient magical artefact.
I don't think Grakka should go at the back, he grunts. If we are attacked at the front, he will be slow to get there due to his heavy armour. The slowest people should go in the middle, and the faster at the front and back. He shrugs. Of course, I don't know you well, Grakka of the Avalanche clan, you may be able to run very fast in your armour.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf



Vesha Kul
I don't think Grakka should go at the back, he grunts. If we are attacked at the front, he will be slow to get there due to his heavy armour. The slowest people should go in the middle, and the faster at the front and back. He shrugs. Of course, I don't know you well, Grakka of the Avalanche clan, you may be able to run very fast in your armour.

"We need a rearguard as well... and we shall be marching close together, as there are only eight of us. I do not mean to range far ahead. We are, after all, a scouting party."

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
We may be marching close together, replies the stocky man, but a second's difference may result in death.

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

Jyn listens to the discussion going back and forth while hunger gnoaws at her belly. Obviously not being offered food several hours earlier has left her hungry, but time is not available for for to secure food. So she pulls out a hardened fiinger sized piece of leather that has been her companion for the last few days. A strip of dried flesh she was able to obtain from a traveller that she helped brace a twisted ankle, she has been chewing on the flesh to help ward off hunger when needed. Swallowing a disgusting mouth-full of saliva, she looks around she sees that she is the only one without the offered stole. Jyn refuses to let jealousy affect her, so ignores it but remain intent on seeing this endeavor to its end.

"I will stay near the middle to best allow dispensement of any knowledge or healing I may have with the group. As stated by others, I agree that staying close together may be wisest, and quick travel in the snow will be difficult and may be fraught with nasty falls."

I am not sure how I should/would have roleplayed Jyn's witnessing Dane and Vesha's offer of stole and food for joining group, since it occured OOC. For fun sake, I will assume she would have remained upset and refused asking for the recognition but still would have held the conviction to help the Journey

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj glances at Jyn with something of a puzzled look on his face, but then dismisses the thought. Standing up straight, the Avanlanche man loops a finger behind the strap of his pack.
"We go, then."

He watches in bemusement as Tono tries to bully the hulking cook into handing over some meat. He chuckles, grimly.
Heh. At it already, are you, Tono? Let's hope this one sees enough of you to kick you the first time you try anything.

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr poured the foul brew down, wiping her mouth and grimacing.

Appreciating frozen roots now, eh? She stood up and adjusted her cloak, sweeping it out from under her. She knelt down and checked her leg, finding the cuts already closed up and the blood blackened and hard. She soaked the bandage with melted snow and stowed it away again, using yet another rag to tie up the stocking so it would say up high on her thigh.

While still kneeling, Thyr began rummaging throught her backpack and produced a small, covered quiver and a long branch fasioned into an unstrung recurve bow. She quickly lashed a length of gut she had stowed, feeling along the length to make sure it was clean. She then fastenend the quiver to her belt on her left hip, checked Faillune hanging on her right and felt for the handle of the knife in a sheath in the back of her belt. she pulled out her waterskin, pouring a bit out and tasting the contents to make sure it hadn't gone stagnant.

Next she began adjusted her armour. pulling at gloves, straightening bracers, tightening belts, and the like. After adjust her breastplate, she ran her hand over her clavicle beneath the black cloak. Her search was successful as she gave a look of consideration and pulled her hands away.

Satisfied, she shouldered her backpack and the shield over top of it. Stooping down she picked up the empty cup and handed it to Ulf before turning towards the group.

It appears as though the lone wolf has now decided to be the alpha. Faillune observed. Thyr looked like she was about to say something, but decided not to. She turned and faced the south.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The tall man looks at Vesha then grins. A hard smile, which he also shares with Thyr. "I tell no man what to do, as no man tells me what to do. You have heard my thoughts on this. You each do as you see fit." With that, he stows the drying guts in an oilskin in his pack, and begins walking south. As he passes by Tono, he speaks gruffly. "We have to start somewhere, minstrel... and I at least don't know these hills."

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
Vesha draws his knife, and cuts his hand lightly, letting some blood drip into the fire. He sheathes his knife, then turns back to the others. You were south of the column when we were attacking, did you see any promising routes?

[Gygaxphobia]

Ulf leaps towards Tono, arms wide

Tono gets an AoO versus a grapple attack *this is actually my mistake, he shouldn't have got this AoO*

[Gygaxphobia]

Ulf springs up into Tono, pushing with his shoulder and grabbing him round the waist with one thick arm. The cauldron pot goes flying as he releases it and tries to grab with the now free hand.

Tono needs opposed Grapple check versus d20+10 = 22 to avoid grapple. Once that is resolved we're into combat rounds and anyone else can join in.

...He manages to get both arms around the smaller man and slowly bears him to the ground.

[Ozzy_G]

Vesha Kul
The short man sits and watches the fight, but makes no attempt to get involved.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The rangy huntsman turns when he hears the impact of the two men. He sees Ulf bearing the minstrel down, and curses. "What in the iciest depths of hell?" We have no time for this, he thinks, and for once he is uncertain of how to act. While he can appreciate Tono's intentions in helping Jyn, his threats and brandishing of weapons caused an expected reaction from Egrek's lieutenant. Bah! Daft rabbit humpers, the pair of them! He leans on his unstrung bow, warily observing the two men.


using lighter color for inner dialog

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj crosses his arms and watches the unfolding brawl. Truth be told, the warrior was feeling somewhat conflicted.
Cocky bastard deserves to spend some time with his face in someone's armpit. he thinks to himself.
But...like it or not, he's accepted the meat and the stole of Egrek.

No diplomat himself, Noj watches the fight unfold to see what will happen next.

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

Not really desiring a fight breaking out on her account, Jyn yells out,

"Stop this madness. We are here to save lives, not quibble amongst ourselves and draw each others life-blood." Not knowing what more to say, she moves closer to the combatants but refrains from stepping between them.

[Gygaxphobia]

There are laughs and jeers from the onlookers as Ulf gets his full weight above Tono with his thick forearms around him, pinning the knife-flailing hand to his opponent's neck.
There is plenty of struggling and kicking of feet as Tono chokes, Ulf -clearly experienced at wrestling- manages to contain his movements and keeps him pinned.

Ulf's eyes bulge wider, like his victim and he growls, flecks of spittle appearing round his mouth like a rabid dog. "See dis ratboy? Dis vat you like? How maybe you eat your arm eh?". Tono's head lolls to one side and Ulf continues throttling him.

The crowd grows silent and one or two turn their backs, either in distaste or simply finding something more important to do.

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

The huntsman spits in distaste. "Ulf! Seems to me like he's had enough. Save it for the Wendigo."

[Kain_Tempest]

Thyr crossed her arms and watched the brawl with an amused look on her face.
Looks like the cosmos finally decided to repay him. When Ingvar started railing on Ulf to end it, Thyr simply shrugged and glanced to the rest of those gathered. Watching their reactions. Surely, they were not going to keep the weasel on if he was crushed flat by this horseman.

[YPU]

Dane slaps his face seeing what stupidity one of his teammate’s had performed. “I’m not the person to rush, but I think it’s the time to go, rather then wrestle somebody twice, perhaps trice your weight.” Dane quicly reases his hand in the general direction of Ulf. “no offence, I hope.”He climbs to his feet with the sound an old man would make. “so, while our musical amusement is still busy, shall we start towards those hills, I was hoping to finish this ‘erand'as soon as possible.”

[Gygaxphobia]

Ulf grits his teeth as he strains, all semblance of sanity lost as his veins stick up and his eyes go vacant.
Two men detach themselves from the tent and roasting pits behind the fire. They step into the firelight, walking over to you with the wide-legged swagger of long-time horsemen.

The one who takes the lead coughs slightly as he stops. He is tall and thin, his age showing in flapping cheeks and liverspots across bony hands. There is strength in his shoulder and he crosses his arms staring at Dane, not unfriendly, but somewhat distant. Just when you think he might speak, his companion steps forward and the old one smiles instead.
The companion steps from behind, and is one of the cleanest men you have seen in years. Quite short, he has pure light grey hair, thick and bushy, stretched across his head and wrapped by leather cord in a top-knot that waves six inches from side to side as he walks. His black leather bracers are highly buffed and extend down over his knuckles studded with brass. He leads with the left side face illuminated by fire, his thrusting chin and small face reminds you of a wolf's muzzle, the grey stubble thick across it.
He blinks quickly with small green-yellow eyes "D'ya haf any questions fer Egrek afor ya go?" he speaks quickly, sniffing with a wrinkled nose.
There is a whimper and he turns to look, exposing the right side of his face. The ugliest welt of purple and scarlet sits along his jawline, reaching down to his neck and infecting the veins with a mass of thin tendrils. It could be a bruise from a lash, but it looks more like a bite.

The whimper came from Ulf who now sits back on his haunches, hands over his face. A long shape is hidden in shadow by his side. The whimper becomes a muffled cry and then sobs shake his body as Ulf cries into his hands.

The small wolfish face and eyes turn back to Dane and the others standing by. The head tilts slightly in question, like a dog sizing up a meal. "Hmm?"

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

"Hela's rotting loins!" The rangy hunter cursed in frustration, the knuckles of his right hand white as he kept it from reaching for his swordhilt. Easy, he told himself. The only thing more stupid than killing over horsemeat is killing over a dead man... although crying after you throttled someone was up there as well. He takes another deep breath, then turns to the newcomers. Old... but if they lived this long, they are not weak or foolish... He spares a last glance at Tono's corpse.
"And who may you be?" His tone is flat, his frustration now under control.

[Kain_Tempest]

"What a waste." Thyr murmurred, as she eyed Tono's corpse coldly.
And chances are they are just gonna bury all of that... There was an awkward silence between weapon and its wielder. Meat is meat, after all. He ammended.
Thyr looked away from the dead weasel. No man, all rodent now and gazed at the horsemen. When the wound was revealed, Thyr immediately thought it was a lash mark and took a step backwards, wincing. Realizing what she did, she quickly regained her composure, looking at her bandage again, before raising her eyes to Ingvar.
"We have the route. We set up the beacons, and we find the pass. I doubt there is anything else we need to know." She looked at the wounded man again before looking back towards the south where their proposed path was to start.

[The Great Skenardo]

Noj Onadare
Noj considers the corpse of Tono for a moment. He hadn't expected the brute to go so far as he did. Must have gone berserk. Still, you threaten a man with a knife, you accept the consequences.
The Avalancher shakes his head, dismissing the thought. He hadn't liked the little bastard anyways.
Turning his attention to the two newcomers, Noj senses that these are men held in high esteem in the strange conglomerate clan of the journey. The man's wound was certainly impressive.
" 'Sblood," Noj mutters, wincing. He quickly regains his composure and tries to stand tall and imperous.
No good showing weakness in front of the big man
Aloud, he says
"Ready to go, aye. But this one," he points towards Jyn "She wants to be a part of Egrek's rear guard. She's a healer, she says, and fine skillful with a bow."

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

Staring blankly, Jyn is racked with guilt. Although she hated the familiar touch Tono offered her and his obnoxious behavior, to see him lose his life the way he did hurt. She knew deep down he did not truly strike out at Ulf with only thoughts of her on his mind, but he did voice support for her as he struck out. Death is death and she had hoped to help prevent human death in her travels.


Hearing Noj's words, she escapes her inner prison enough to look up and offer a half smile to the two new entrants to the arena. Out of the corner of her eye she is proud to she a man shed tears, but does not have time to acknowledge his emotional sacrifice.

"Thank you Noj for the kind words. I believe earlier I may have inadvertantly offended the Thane after seeing the death of one dear to me. This new death has opened my eyes more to the reality of this endeavor, and I accept deeply that we must act as one if we are to see things safely to their end. I would be honored to serve as part of the rearguard with these fine warriors. But before you answer, please grant me a few moments to see to the lost soul."

After awaiting acknowledgement from either of the men, she walks over to Tono's quickly hardening corpse and offers a few ritualistic words. Slowly removing his stole Jyn moves over to the crying form of Ulf and offers him the fur.

"Here, I doubt you want his body being eternally remembered as one of Thane's men. I am sorry things progressed to this end, all in my name. Please accept my humblist apologies and offer to serve two-fold over what was lost here today."

If no acknowledgement granted, I will erase last part of post and adjust actions

[Gygaxphobia]

The newcomers watch Ingvar struggle with himself with curiosity and fascination. The older one smiles knowingly as he watches the sword hand relax again. "Haruld Thrice, Keen the Deepwalker." He points first to himself and then strokes his shorter companion on the right cheek with the back on his forefinger. He has a deep rumbling voice and he strokes Keen with lustful eyes.

Haruld looks at Thyr. His lips part slightly, but before words come out Keen moves with Noj's pointing finger to stand in front of Jyn. He nods slowly at her and then follows to stand at her shoulder next to Ulf.

Ulf ignores the offered fur but becomes quieter. Keen takes the fur gently from Jyn and places it around her shoulders, clasping it with some affection.
"Ay, yer were offered a place as Carl. But ay think the Thane left ya too ya grief acos he dont like ta see weakness. If ya can show him strength too he wont object too ya."

He looks pointedly at the sobbing man in front of them as he says the last and then steps backward until he is shoulder to shoulder with Haruld again.
Haruld looks to Thyr and around the group. "Be sure you drink of the genwaste afor you go", he rumbles in his slow way, "And take a sack from the last tent."

[Helfdan]

Ingvar the Wolf

Ingvar narrows his eyes at the two men, but nods in approval when Jyn is welcomed. He then looks at the others. "We are burning daylight." With those terse words, he begins walking south, alert for danger.

[Grymmheart]

Jyn

Graciously accepting the stole, she gives her thanks and moves to the last tent to remove a sack. Eyeing Ingvar depart, Jyn decides to grab one bag for him too. While walking after her new companion, she peers into her sack to determine its contents.

[Kain_Tempest]

"Finally." Thyr grumbles. As they pass the last tent, she stooped and picks up one of the sacks and slings it over her shoulder. Obviously they were supplies. The Thane wasn't stupid enough to send these bunch of knuckle heads into the wild without some kind of support.