Pathfinder: The Last Kingdom (IC)

[The BBEG]

The Last Kingdom
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It is the year 872 and King Æthelred of Wessex just died in battle against the invading Danes. Rather than passing the throne on to his immature and incapable sons Æthelhelm and Æthelwold, he had previously bequeathed the crown to his last living brother, Alfred. King Alfred is considered by all to be a learned and merciful man of a gracious and level-headed nature. He has set out to encourage education, proposing that primary education be conducted in English rather than Latin and to improve his kingdom's legal system, military structure, and his people's quality of life. Before he can do that, he must rid Wessex of the invaders. Northumbria has already fallen, East Anglia is controlled by Danes, and both Mercia and Wessex are on their last legs. Ivar the Boneless' great host is encroaching upon Wessex with its commanders Guthram and Ubba leading the way.

Alfred has called a meeting with his Eldermen, commanders, priests, and advisers in the Wessexian capitol of Winchester to determine whether to fight or sue for peace. Inside the great hall, King Alfred sits at his throne as the last of those expected arrive. A warrior, clad in leathers and furs enters the last, walking briskly and with purpose directly towards the king. He is a young, powerfully built man with long dark hair and beard. Two guards close the doors to the great hall behind him.

King Alfred, wearing a simple yet fashionable burgundy tunic and his golden crown rises and begins to speak as the man approaches. "Uhtred of Bebbanburg, what news do you have of the heathens? Do they encroach upon Wessex?

Uhtred responds with a slight nod of deference before speaking. "My King, Guthram and his men have pushed from East Anglia into Mercia and are sacking as they see fit. Ubba and his host are still in Northumbria, but pushing south, no doubt to join with Guthram and turn their attention to Wessex."

"How many men do they each have? And where is Ivar and his men?

"I've heard rumors that Ivar and his host of 5,000 men have landed in Pictland and are pushing west, though I can not be certain. Ubba from last reports has over 2,000 men, and Guthram at least 1,200."

Murmurs go about the great hall upon hearing the numbers of the Dane's. The 30 or so members gather begin talking amongst themselves in hushed tones as the King contemplates Uhtred's words.

King Alfred then turns to the commander of his army and one of his most trusted advisers. "Leofric, what news is there of Lord Burgred of Mercia?"

The towering warrior slightly shakes his head. "Lord King, the news is dire indeed as he and his remaining men, less than 800 I am told, have retreated into Tamworth and are waiting for the Dane's to come to them."

The King looks around the room. "What insight do you have, what do you think we should do? Our own numbers, with all of our bannermen, are just over 1800."

[hannahbbug3]

Standing at the door, Gabriel listens to the words said with a sinking feeling in his stomach. It's... certainly not good news, is it? But the Danes can't be unstoppable. Invincibility is a feat that no man has yet figured out, and is certainly not possible. When the words cease and the room goes quiet, Gabriel waits a good ten seconds for the elder members of the council to speak, before he offers his input. Maybe it hasn't been asked for, but he's not one to stand quietly when action is needed. "My king, we have to make a stand, at the very least. From what our reports have offered, the Danes don't seem ready for peace." He shakes his head. "A strong display is the only thing that might get through to them. If their numbers are divided, shouldn't we strike now, before they unify in larger numbers than ever?"

[WindStruck]

Rokilda stood to the side of the great hall, behind most of the courtiers and arrivals and next to a strong man with black hair and pale blue eyes. Though she was out of the way, she might have stood out from the crowd.

As the dire news unfolded, she softly bit her lower lip. These tidings were certainly bad. 1800 men, or perhaps 2600 against more than 8000? The odds seemed impossible.

But still, Rokilda managed to suppress a silent snort, as she realized perhaps her family's way of life might save them. For all the scorn that was put into the word heathen, it meant very little if those who thought themselves so high and mighty were dead.

Still, Britain was her home. Her family had still been loyal to the king, more or less, throughout the years. And there was a strong possibility the Danes would kill everyone and torch their home regardless. Even if she or her mother could effectively communicate with them, it still might not be enough...

Rokilda was silent in thought along with everyone else. Finally a young man spoke, urging them to attack now while the enemy forces were split up. She thought it was futile at this point. But she didn't say anything.

[Wymmerdann]

Cedric

Fresh from the road, and a long ride from the La Fey Estates with his unusual charge in tow, Cedric is shocked at the news. Eight thousand heathens and more? Still, more than half seem confined to Pictland, and perhaps have their eyes set elsewhere than Wessex, for now.

Deciding that it is critical to speak before talk can turn to diplomacy or ‘accomodations’ with the savage heathens, Cedric decides to speak his piece. His father, Wulfred, stands aloof from the floor, preferring to listen to the exchanged words and watch the reactions of the various noblemen. Cedric chooses his moment carefully and courteously, lest he offend an Elderman by interrupting. He speaks confidently, though in truth, has had no occasion to speak before such an august assembly before.

“My lord king, there are many folk throughout the lands of the Saxons and Angles who will rally against these heathens, if they are given hope that victory is possible. An early victory, against one of the smaller savage hordes may bolster our forces, rather than diminishing them.”

He pauses a moment to consider his next words. The Mercians, he is sure, would be all too happy to have others win their battles for them, and shelter in the fortifications of Tamworth while blood is shed.
“The Mercians would likely wish for you to join them at Tamworth, but that would be to preserve their forces, rather than Wessex, and would give the Heathen Army time to unite. If the Mercians can be induced to march against Guthrum, perhaps we can achieve a significant victory together, on a favourable field.”

Still, the Danes would likely have the numbers in a second, or third, battle, and were known to be brutal warriors and cunning strategists, even when outnumbered.

“Beyond that, these larger hosts are hostile invaders, hated by good men and God alike. Can we not sap their numbers, morale and supplies before we cast them down on the field of battle? I do not claim to know the best way of doing this, for my place is the shield wall and melee, but perhaps there are other ways to diminish the heathen before armies clash?”

This, he hopes, will steer the conversation towards how best to defeat the heathen, rather than whether or not to attempt the feat.

[The BBEG]

King Alfred listens as Gabriel speaks. He nods at the words but does not speak.

Uhtred follows up to Gabriels words. "You are correct. The Danes have only been raiding areas that are poor and have been raided before. They are not ready for peace because they have neither been bloodied, nor have their fill of silver. If they are allowed to merge, I'm not sure that we can defeat them."

Odda the Younger scoffs at Uhtred's last remarks. "Of course the Dane doubts the abilities of the Saxons. His loyalties still lie with them."

Father Beocca speaks, not to Uhtred, Gabriel, or even to Odda, but to his King. "My Lord King, surely we are past this... Uhtred as proven himself firmly in our camp, it is obvious his loyalties are with Wessex and not the Dane's"

"We don't have time to fight amongst ourselves. Please continue with discussions regarding how to defeat the Danes." The King is obviously annoyed, though Queen Aelswith seems to have enjoyed the attempt to discredit Uhtred.

Cedric speaks of going to battle and rallying the common folk to their cause.

Odda the Elder speaks to Cedric. "Your plan makes sense on the surface, but if we take farmers from their field, then we have no crops and when we return from war, we will all die of starvation. Besides, one Danish warrior is worth 10 untrained farmers with pitchforks. Though you speak the truth in that our only option is to attack the smallest force and hope for the best."

Uhtred chimes in again. "Yes, they only way to discourage the Danes and make them sue for peace is to make them lose men. That is the only thing they are afraid of in battle. Losing men makes them appear as weak and others will not follow them if they throw away the lives of their men for no good reason."

[Spiritus]

Narses Kerularios remains silent. He is no noble, and although he seems to offer his talents to the king, he knows well that he has little skill at speech, and no experience in full war.

Still, hearing the numbers of the Danes furrows his brow. 8000... That's a lot of barbaroi.

[Janwin]

A man clearly dressed as a Dane would has been more or less avoiding as much notice as he can, but hearing the conversation he feels it his duty to provide what insight he can.

Through a thick Danish accent, he speaks. "While correct that Danes will abandon their leader if they are shown to be weak, there are other things that will cause a Dane to falter in their conviction: a lack of food or a lack of plunder, in particular. A Dane who is fighting and risking death without the thought he might survive with wealth is an unhappy Dane, and a Dane who is too hungry to carry his shield is useless."

As the eyes around the room likely converge on him with a mix of surprise, possible horror, and likely no shortage of loathing, he continues, raising his voice over people questioning why a Dane is even here.

"You have one advantage: you know your land. The Danes must send out scouts to determine the best paths of travel for their army and to determine where there are sufficient supplies to feed the army on the move. They must move where they can forage. Find the scouts, kill the scouts, and you will slow the army. That may buy you time to gather allies.

You can also burn crops in their path and withdraw silver from their targets. Hide the silver and the Dane has no plunder, and little to return home to their family with."

[hannahbbug3]

Gabriel seems pleased that his ideas aren't immediately shot down by the elder members of the council, and squares his shoulders a little bit with pride when some other suggestions are. He is by no means under the illusion that he has any particular sway in the court, but at least he's being taken seriously.

The notion of arming the peasants is a good one, but Odda raises a valid point as well. With that in mind, Gabriel nearly blances at the Dane's notion of burning their fields - it would lead to the same result, only much worse, scorching the earth for years to come. Just whose side was the Dane on? Gabriel barely contains that question, clamping his lips shut and setting his jaw as he levels a glare at the man from across the room. Surely, that idea would be shot down, as well.

[The BBEG]

Odda the Younger leaps at the opportunity that Biarni has laid before him. "This is why we should not allow Dane's in our court! If they had their way we would all starve as our enemies rolled threw sacking town after town!"

King Alfred comes to Biarni's defense. "He thinks as warrior, not as a ruler. As he should. He is warrior. His strategy is good if you only need to worry about the battle as the Dane's do. We must look at what is best for Wessex. We need warriors like Biarni, like each of you in the coming days. I have heard each of you. You make valid points. It is decided, we will muster all of our available forces and attempt to intercept Guthram before he can link his forces with Ubba. We will decide how to proceed from there. Make your arrangements, send messengers to muster the garrisons and have them meet us, we set out at mornings light."

--------

You guys can meet up with each other making small talk, or talk with any of the other members of the court, save the King who has retired to his study.

[WindStruck]

So, the kingdom would muster what little remaining people they had and take the fight to the enemy. Whatever happened next, they would need a great deal of luck to succeed.

Briefly, Rokilda wondered what she was even doing here in this court. She was neither a warrior, nor a tactician. And admittedly, she wasn't even much of a scholar or socialite. She wished her father were the one here instead, and he would have come along too, if an urgent errand had not came up. But that reminded her why he did insist that she come.

As the crowd of people began conversing among themselves, Rokilda found an opportunity to make a few suspicious gestures and mutter something to herself without drawing much attention...

Rokilda casts Detect Magic.

I know it's low magic and there will probably be absolutely nothing here... may as well check though!

If we do find anything, that could be very suspicious. :smalltongue:

As the young woman scanned the great hall, she slowly and carefully sauntered about. She took the opportunity to glance about, noting each person's face and appearance and listening in on the tidbits of their conversations.

[Janwin]

Biarni frowns at Odda as he speaks, and is about to speak up when Alfred speaks.

He's not about to speak over a king, and he nods his head as the King states "we must look at what is best for Wessex".

After the King leaves, Biarni steps over to Elderman Theodric and has some brief words with him before skimming the rest of the room to see what sorts of warriors he could expect to see on the field in the future, and probably to get an idea of what he has to work with.

[kjelfalconer]

Deowulf kept to himself during the meeting. The numbers people were throwing around were too big to hold any meaning to him, and he didn't have any ideas other than attack them. It was the whole reason he came to Wessex in the first place - he was no good at this complicated stuff, and self aware enough to know it. They'd done there bit, and now he knew where to be. He'd take it from there.

That, and they all had really thick accents. It was damn hard to tell what they were saying half the time. Making the Danes leave by breaking their own stuff did sound pretty dumb though. Had to be better to break the Dane's stuff instead, right?

He'd talk to anyone who approached him, but he had what he wanted from tonight.

[Janwin]

While Biarni doesn't notice the woman in time to spot her pagan magic, he has noticed the oddly dressed woman sauntering about the great hall.

He makes his way over to Rokilda as she's moving between conversations.

Glimpsing at the pentagram she wears, he comments, "Interesting choice of jewelry."

Something about the way he says it indicates that he knows it's far more than a simple piece of jewelry.

He adds with a small smile, "Particularly in this crowd."

[WindStruck]

As Rokilda carefully scanned the people and her surroundings, her attention was drawn away momentarily by the man with the thick Danish accent who spoke earlier. Given his tone and common sense in general, he probably knew a thing or two about the pentragram, the holy symbol she wore.

She nods to the man with a soft, subtle smile of her own. "Indeed."

"Perhaps we had best not be seen speaking with one another. If the young one saw us, surely he would openly accuse us of conspiracy." Though her words might sadly be true, her tone was jovial and mocking of the judgemental and outspoken one.

[hannahbbug3]

Gabriel stays on the door as the others mill about - of course, dipping his head to the king properly as the man leaves the room, retiring to his own chambers to think, presumably. When Alfred is gone, Gabriel stands a little more at ease, shoulders relaxed instead of squared as they had been.

[Spiritus]

Narses manages to spot Roskilda's casting, and approaches her. It is good to know that there is at least one fellow arcanist in this land, he says quietly. We will need more that swords to defeat the Danes, mark my words.

[WindStruck]

The Greek's words pique Rokilda's interest. "A 'fellow' arcanist...? Hm. And I don't think I recognize that accent..."

"Ah forgive my manners. My name is Rokilda La Fay. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with? And where are you from?" she asked, directing the question at either or both men.

[Spiritus]

The Greek's words pique Rokilda's interest. "A 'fellow' arcanist...? Hm. And I don't think I recognize that accent..."

"Ah forgive my manners. My name is Rokilda La Fay. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with? And where are you from?" she asked, directing the question at either or both men.

I am Narses Kerularios, late these ten years of Konstantinoupolis, the greatest city in the world. He bows to her. And forgive me; I was perhaps imprecise. While I also use magic, I do not cast spells as you do, but rather infuse my magic into various potions. He slips a vial out and shows it to her, keeping it out of sight of the rest of the court.

he will take ten for 16 on the Sleight of Hand check.

[The BBEG]

Father Beocca approaches each of you before you leave the great hall and requests that you meet with him at his residence a short walk away from the palace. He states that there is someone he wishes for each of you to meet. He then excuses himself before there is time for more questions to be asked.

If you choose to go, you find his home a rather small and humble abode with a pot of stew simmering over a small fire.

He offers stew and ale to any who come and provide a place to sit and converse.

[WindStruck]

Rokilda says to Narses, keeping her voice low, "Let's keep that information between us, away from prying eyes and ears, shall we?" Just then Father Beocca had came up to them and invited the three to his house. "Perhaps we could.. share what we know, or simply converse there."

She decides to accept Father Beocca's offer, and presumably Cedric comes along with her too (If he doesn't wish to go, they'll meet at some other designated place after).

After arriving at his home, she accepts a bowl of stew and finds a place to sit down. She thanks Father Beocca for his hospitality, and waits for whoever it was he wanted her to meet and for her stew to cool.

[hannahbbug3]

Gabriel is a bit bewildered by the old man's invitation, but, not wanting to appear rude, shows up at the appointed time. He quirks his brow when he notices one of the more finely dressed ladies there, inclining his head to her in a small and polite bow. "Sir Gabriel Raud," he introduces himself.

[WindStruck]

Rokilda briefly stands and curtsies to the knight. "Good evening, Sir Raud. I am Rokilda La Fay."

"I must say, those were some good words you spoke in Alfred's court. I think it was just the encouragement they needed to grant them the resolve to stand against the Danes."

[Janwin]

As Rokilda carefully scanned the people and her surroundings, her attention was drawn away momentarily by the man with the thick Danish accent who spoke earlier. Given his tone and common sense in general, he probably knew a thing or two about the pentragram, the holy symbol she wore.

She nods to the man with a soft, subtle smile of her own. "Indeed."

"Perhaps we had best not be seen speaking with one another. If the young one saw us, surely he would openly accuse us of conspiracy." Though her words might sadly be true, her tone was jovial and mocking of the judgemental and outspoken one.

At her all-too-true jest, Biarni lets out a quiet laugh. "That does seem likely from what I've seen today."

He nods to the Greek as he approaches. And shrugs and heads with the group at Father Beocca's invitation.

As introductions are made, he introduces himself quite simply. "Biarni Gunnulfson."

[hannahbbug3]

Gabriel smiles graciously at the woman's compliment. "Thank you, my lady," he says. He recognizes her name, of course, he wasn't that ignorant of the faces in court. Or their names, at least - especially a name as old and infamous as that one. "I had hoped it would spur some action - it's quite obvious that action needs to be taken."

[Janwin]

Gabriel smiles graciously at the woman's compliment. "Thank you, my lady," he says. He recognizes her name, of course, he wasn't that ignorant of the faces in court. Or their names, at least - especially a name as old and infamous as that one. "I had hoped it would spur some action - it's quite obvious that action needs to be taken."

Biarni nods at the knight's words. "Action must be taken. But considering the imbalance in numbers, it needs to be more than one success. Your suggestion of fighting is good, but if the King's forces are weakened too much in the first battle, the Danes will smell blood. Even if we attack the smallest branch, which the King said was 1,200 Danes, with all 1,800 men he has available, we will lose men. The Danes may lose that battle, but they'll know they'd be all but guaranteed success in sacking the rest of the country with fewer forces left to stop them."

He frowns at that thought. "They need to be hit hard, and it needs to be -careful- so we lose as few as possible, if it's going to be military."

[WindStruck]

Rokilda suggests, "Supposing we destroyed all of their sailing vessels. They would have no means of returning home with their plunders, and no escape from the chill of our winter. And then, if we could just hold them off..."

She stopped there. That again, was the tricky part. One did not simply 'hold off' 8000 Danes.

[Janwin]

He shakes his head.

"Burn their ships and you've just given them -no- choice except to sack everything to survive the winter. They would fight doubly hard, and be driven by revenge."

[WindStruck]

"Well, if anyone knows how they would react, I suppose it would be you," Rokilda says with a shrug.

"What brings you here, Biarni? It is not often that a Danish man forsakes his kin, converts in his faith, and even becomes a trusted subject of King Alfred."

[Wymmerdann]

Cedric

Cedric accepted Father Beocca's invitation at face value. The Priest was clearly respected in Alfred's court, though he also spoke up to defend the heathen Uhtred. An interesting paradox, and one worth looking into.

He absented himself from Alfred's court when Rokilda made her departure. It was not safe for a noblewoman such as herself to walk the streets of Winchester alone - unsafe and unwelcoming as they were to strangers in the best of times.

Most of those gathering at Beocca's house seemed to be fighting men, with the noticeable exception of the Lady La Fey. He held his tongue, for now, as Rokilda asked the pertinent question of the Dane, Biarni. It was not unthinkable for such a man to abandon the savagery of his heathen ways, but neither was it common, and Cedric judged it a tale likely worth hearing.

[Spiritus]

Narses

Narses followed along with Father Beocca and the rest, following Roskilda's lead. Once they arrive, he joins everyone in digging into the stew.

If not the Danes' ships, what of their supplies? He asks. The fierciest man in the world cannot fight when hunger has glued his belly to his spine. If they plan to stay through the winter, they must have stockpiles somewhere. Burn those and you cripple their army.

[Janwin]

"Well, if anyone knows how they would react, I suppose it would be you," Rokilda says with a shrug.

"What brings you here, Biarni? It is not often that a Danish man forsakes his kin, converts in his faith, and even becomes a trusted subject of King Alfred."

Biarni frowns noticeably at the question; not as though he disapproves that it was asked, but more at the memories it dredges forth.

Which is why his answer is perhaps more perplexing. "Love."

He then inhales and lets out a slow breath. "Truthfully, I came here a raider, seeking to make my riches to live a good life. There isn't much other than raiding to guarantee a comfortable future in Daneland. I settled in Jorvik after we captured...I believe your people called it 'York'. Became a farmer and looked forward to a quieter life of peace."

He looks off into the distance, remembering something, and chuckles quietly. "Being an idiot, I fell for the daughter of the local Elderman.
We courted in secret; a Dane and an Northumbrian, after all. Got married by a priest in secret, too, though I had to convert to do it. Tried to drown me in a river, he did."

He frowns then. "Seems my people found out. Torched my farm, killed my wife, beat me near to death and told me that Ivar sent them."

He turns his eyes towards Gabriel, as though making a point of saying the next piece for the local Knight's benefit. "I could have stayed.
The warning was delivered, and the point was made. They did not kill me, which meant I was not forsaken. I -chose- to give up my people and my homeland to seek vengeance for my wife. I've -chosen- her homeland."



Narses

Narses followed along with Father Beocca and the rest, following Roskilda's lead. Once they arrive, he joins everyone in digging into the stew.

If not the Danes' ships, what of their supplies? He asks. The fierciest man in the world cannot fight when hunger has glued his belly to his spine. If they plan to stay through the winter, they must have stockpiles somewhere. Burn those and you cripple their army.

When the Greek speaks up, he nods. "They have some. But even if you torch them, they will forage. And they will forage even harder from your people, and more brutally. Leave them nothing to forage, however, and their own supplies will not last them the winter."

[WindStruck]

Rokilda is silent a while and still after hearing Biarni's story. Finally she says, "Well then. I don't believe anyone has any place challenging your loyalties..."

[hannahbbug3]

Gabriel listens to the Dane's story with a grim expression. It isn't one he can really relate to. Being the third son, he wasn't even expected to marry. He was expected to go into the military, serve the king loyally, and likely die for his homeland. That said - it's certainly a tale he can understand. If the Dane - Biarni - was willing to die for King Alfred, then it was something they shared in common.

But that, of course, didn't solve the problem at hand. The young knight grunts and crosses his arms, leaning back in the chair he had availed for himself. "So, what are the options, then? Starve them so they raid us harder, starve ourselves so they won't have any reason to pillage, or starve the both of us so the conflict ends with everyone dying?" he asks.

[Janwin]

Biarni shrugs. "The most effective option is also one that involves a rather harsh decision. Try and harvest whatever you can early, withdraw those supplies and anyone you can to the capital, and burn what you leave behind so there is nothing left for the Danes."

With a grim resolution, he continues. "Some will absolutely die of starvation. But is it better to die of starvation or on a Dane's sword?
Either way, they are likely to die. The question is: can their sacrifice save others and the nation?"

[hannahbbug3]

"Tis more honorable to die upon a battlefield than in a gutter," Gabriel grumbles, but he knows, logically, that they can't just arm everyone in the country. They were up against long odds, but peasants with polearms against trained warriors? It'd be a slaughter. But when the options were that, or die slowly of hunger...

[Janwin]

Biarni nods. "You'll find no disagreement from me on that."

[The BBEG]

Father Beocca, the middle aged and slight build priest with a complete shaved head and common brown robes scurries around making sure everyone's stew bowl is full and ale mug is topped off. He is a kind man and is not above serving his fellow man. It is easy to note that this makes him a bit different from some of his counterparts.

While everyone is speaking regarding how to deal with the marauding threat, there is a faint knock at the door. Father Beocca hustles over and opens the door and shuts it quickly.

The man introduced in King Alfred's court, Lord Uhtred, enters. He smiles warmly as Father Beocca embraces him as a brother before offering him food and drink. Uhtred accepts a mug and bowl and sits at the table with the group.

After taking a long drink from his mug Uhtred looks at the group. "I am the one who asked Father Beocca to bring you here. I am glad each of you were willing to come. I am not going to lie, there is a reason I called for you. I recently married Lady Mildrith of Oxton and became the Lord of Oxton. My men from Oxton have been pulled into the main vanguard and I am to command the forces as we take the fight to Guthrum. That being said, I need eyes, and ears. Not just any eyes and ears though. That's why I, with the insight of people who know each of you, selected you for a task."

"Whether you possess a gift that makes Alfred's court uncomfortable, healing abilities that set you apart, a background that makes you unsettling to the court, or even just the simple fact that you are talented and don't yet have a set place in the court. I want you to work for me... sanctioned by and with the express permission of Alfred of course."

Uhtred takes a bite of his stew and after a moment continues. "What I need from you is no simple task. I need you to move north towards Ubba's force and somehow find out how long until he and his men are going to join with Guthrum. If you could find out what Ivar's plan is up in Pictland, even better. How you do this isn't important. Capture a scout, overheard orders, infiltrate their camp, it doesn't matter. Just get the information and make it back. Are you interested?"

[WindStruck]

Rokilda is at first very open to the idea as Uhtred begins explaining. But she grows more worried as he begins listing the things he needs.

With her confidence in this task clearly lacking, she protests, "Uh.. forgive me Lord Uhtred, but... does the exact time their forces merge matter? King Alfred said our men would leave tomorrow morning. Surely they would clash with Guthrum's forces as soon as possible?"

She sighs and even wavers on her own disagreement. "Well... I suppose if they could bide their time and choose the perfect time and place to strike, maybe... I am no tactician. But most of us are no Danes either. How on Earth would you propose anyone, aside from Biarni, infiltrate their camp without immediately being outed as a spy?"

[Janwin]

Biarni listens to Uhtred's proposal curiously, his face stoic through it all.

"You seem smarter than many commanders, Lord of Oxton, so yes, I will do what you ask."

He's clearly not yet -quite- versed in the proper ways of addressing people with title, but that's not really surprising since he's barely even fluent in Old English.

Biarni then grins at Rokilda's words.

"Find a scout. Capture a scout. Interrogate a scout. Kill the scout as cleanly as possible. Then we put the Knight in Dane clothes. Repeat as necessary. All you have to do from that point is to not talk."

[hannahbbug3]

"Put the Knight in- are you talking about me?" Gabriel nearly bursts, his eyes boggling at the notion. It wasn't that he was... opposed to the idea. It was just such an absurd one! To remove his heraldry, the mark of his rank and station - and talent, as the Lord so rightly put it... but, ah, now was not the time to discuss such matters. Details could be handled later, right? Regardless, Gabriel looks over to Lord Uhtred. He had been hoping he would be taken on by a noble family, to serve in their household. It was hardly his place to refuse. "I will serve you well, my Lord... whatever you require, I shall do. And while their ideas might befuddle me..." he hums, looking at the others. "As well as some of their beliefs... if it please you, I will work with them."

[kjelfalconer]

"So wait, are we fighting 'em or not?" Honestly he'd completely lost the conversation once everyone started talking. "Ah can fight 'em right an' proper, ye ken, but ah I ain't much for all ye sneakin' around. Why'd ye bring me inta this, if this is what ye think'll win?"

[Janwin]

"So wait, are we fighting 'em or not?" Honestly he'd completely lost the conversation once everyone started talking. "Ah can fight 'em right an' proper, ye ken, but ah I ain't much for all ye sneakin' around. Why'd ye bring me inta this, if this is what ye think'll win?"

Biarni chuckles at his words. "I expect there'll be more killing than sneaking."

[WindStruck]

With a sudden spurt of inspiration Rokilda says, "Wait. That idea could work... Three of you pose as Danish scouts. I and two others pose as their prisoners. I would be a lucrative target for a ransom, as would two knights. It would make sense that a woman such as myself would have armed escorts... and I believe I could speak their language well enough to corroborate."

With a short staccato of a pleased laugh, she continues, "Hmph. Who knows? I may even be able to fool them that my family would align with them. Given the circumstances, it might be more believable than you think..."

Turning to Uhtred she asks, "Is there no one else to lead your forces? I can understand if your men need you, and you alone... But another man who can think and speak like the enemy would be invaluable to the mission."

[The BBEG]

Uhtred smiles at all of the ideas flowing around. "You guys get it. Fight you way up their, sneak, use deception, all of the above. Whatever works. Even if you try sneaking and deception, I am certain you will have to sneak at some point. As for why we need the information. We don't want to be in a fight with Guthrum right as Ubba appears. Enemy movement and other information is almost as important as having capable warriors. As for why I must lead the forces, its not that my men need me. Rather, the same reasoning you have. Alfred wants me with the main force to 'think like a Dane'. I know their tactics and I have proven myself to Alfred. That means I go where Alfred tells me. Any questions before I leave?"

[Janwin]

Biarni nods, "Just one. Any more specific idea of where Ubba is other than 'north'?"

[WindStruck]

Rokilda also asks, "Assuming we are successful, do we relay what we find directly to you? Where will we find you?"

[The BBEG]

"Ubba was last heard to be in Northumbria and had just taken York. I don't know if he stayed or continued raiding. As for finding me, you can send messengers or come back yourself. I'll either be fighting Guthrum, on my way back here, or dead."

[Janwin]

With a shrug, Biarni looks around the room at each of his apparent future companions. "Good enough for me. We should leave as soon as we can. Better chance of success if we have time to work with."

[hannahbbug3]

Gabriel gives a nod. "Very well. I shall gather my things and be prepared to leave to-morrow."

[Wymmerdann]

Cedric

So Uhtred had finally strengthened his ties in Wessex, with Mildred of Oxton. A beautiful lady, of strong Saxon blood by all reports. His father had cautioned Cedric strongly against pursuing the lady himself, so perhaps there was more to the match than simple social elevation for Uhtred.

He spoke his mind on the generalities of the plans being proposed:
"It seems we must play a dangerous game indeed. To enter Ubba's camp sounds nigh-suicidal. The man is rumoured to be as black-hearted as he is superstitious. If something went wrong, a handful of fighting men would not be able to fight their way free. On the other hand, a scout may be easier to caputre, and have some knowledge of his army's movements, but little of his liege's intentions. Perhaps there is a middle road. A lower ranked chieftain or warleader within Ubba's force might have the information we desire. "


Turning to Uhtred, "Is it likely that the Danes would continue to mount raids while marching south? They must need to resupply their army with silver and captured food stores on the road. Such a raiding captain would know more of the general disposition of Ubba's troops than a mere scout."

Realising that he had put the cart somewhat before the horse, he clarifies, inclining his head in deference "I am at my liege's disposal, and therefore your own, Lord Uhtred."

[Spiritus]

"At least this time it will be an act,"Narses mutters, rubbing his wrists as he remembers the chains he once bore.

Sorry I wasn't able to post for the past few days. I'll try to warn you if it happens again.

[WindStruck]

"I think if you were to interrogate a scout or lesser commander, there may be issues if they do not have the information we seek, if they refuse to talk, or if they simply lie to us," Rokilda says. "It's certainly safer, but false information could be disastrous."

"Can anyone else here even speak the Danes' tongue?"

Guess I just lied in the OOC thread. Can't stay away! :smalltongue:

[Janwin]

Biarni suggests, "I would think it best to try to capture a scout or two first, and see what they know. Then, if it must be done for more information, I can try simply walking into the camp and hoping nobody recognizes me. It's unlikely anyone would, since I haven't served with Ubba."

He glimpses at the other martial individuals present, "Could dress up one or two of you to look like Danes as well so that, if anything goes wrong, there's more blades to fight our way out of the camp."

He grins slightly, "Ideally, of course, nothing goes wrong."

As to the question about speaking the Dane's tongue, he replies the obvious: "Yes. The question is whether any of you can speak it well enough to not be obviously recognized as not a Dane even if you know the language."

[Spiritus]

"I can." Narses answers. It is simple enough, and languages have always done easy to me. He pauses, thoughtfully. "And though I do not look like one of them, I can't be the only former slave who fights for them."

[Janwin]

Biarni considers Narses' words a moment, and then smiles.

"That's a very good point. If look like you're carrying some things for me, and speak the tongue more-or-less, it would be generally assumed that you were my thrall. It's unlikely a Dane would even ask, or think to question it, since it would just seem so obvious and natural."

He looks over each person in the room again, clearly considering each of them in turn.

"As we move north toward Ubba's encampment, I recommend myself and Narses be ahead of the rest of the group some ways. If we come across any scouts, we can distract them for the rest to approach...or appear to help them fight you and then turn. If we end up having to go into their camp, we'll figure that out when we get to it."

He grins somewhat, as though "figure it out" probably means "make **** up on the fly, most likely when they're already deep inside the camp".

[The BBEG]

Uhtred answers as best he can. "I depends. How much food and silver did they get from their last raid? If they got a significant amount, they could potentially march all the way to Guthrum. If it was sparse they made hit ever house and town on the way. It depends on their luck, how much people hid from them and how long they are willing to play games with the people they encounter." He nods to each of you in turn. "Thank you for doing this. Be swift. Be deadly." The warrior the embraces Father Beocca before leaving the small home.

The group has their orders, their direction, and a general plan. All that is left is to either get a good nights sleep or good and drunk at the local ale house. Either way, night is here and morning approaches quickly.

[WindStruck]

Rokilda retires for the night in some modest accommodations graciously provisioned by King Albert. She writes a letter to her father explaining the situation, and that she MIGHT be pretending to be captured. Or perhaps, it won't be pretending.

Later in the morning she rises to find most of their forces have already departed at the crack of dawn. Seems the few fighting men left behind were scrambling to complete last-minute preparations.

Amid the chaos, she seeks to retrieve the horse she had stabled the previous evening.

[hannahbbug3]

Gabriel spends the night getting as much rest as he can, but ultimately doesn't prove very successful in doing so. Anticipation for the next morning's adventure fills his mind, leading him to be restless through the night. Nonetheless, he gets up at the crack of dawn, things packed and ready to go.

[Janwin]

Biarni retires as well, and sleeps pretty heavily. Something about a reasonably comfortable bed in a mostly secure location just seems to give him a good rest.

The following morning, he gathers what few possessions he has, straps on his armor and heads out to meet up with the others for the journey ahead of them.

[Wymmerdann]

Cedric

There was much to think on and only one place for it. He would leave the others to their ale or rest.

Cedric would pray.

The Kings of Wessex had long maintained a chapel available to those of noble birth and, on special occasion, their retainers.

Cedric trudged the short walk back toward the royal lodgings, identifying himself to the guards, and entered the consecrated space. Others came and went during the evening, for it was a time of doubt and fear, and in such times folk turned more readily to The Church. He acknowledged some, with a nod of deference or greeting, but kept his peace throughout the evening. His thoughts were elsewhere.

He would test his steel in the fires of war, with uncertain allies and an impossible task. He would trust in the Lord to temper him, as fire did steel, to burn out impurity and doubt.

Such was his prayer.

[The BBEG]

And with mornings first light the ragtag group is prepared to set off with hopes of completing a tall order indeed. The trek north is long, though not particularly arduous. Unless you consider the fact that they need to see the Danes before they seem them.

How does the group progress? What is their marching order. Do they change how they are dress? Do they avoid the roads? Where exactly do they wish to go?

[Janwin]

As the group heads north, Biarni takes up the front. He positions himself to be well in advance of the rest of the group so that when he is seen they won't be. He also hides his cross necklace in his pack and instead wears a pagan hammer slung on a cord around his neck.

For his part, he looks exactly like a Dane. Tall, blond, lamellar armor, axe and shield. Perhaps a raider coming back from a raid.

[hannahbbug3]

This was absolutely insane, Gabriel thought to himself as he got ready the next morning. He joined the others regardless, falling in line near the front of the group, but his demeanor was grim as they moved out. "So, be serious," he says to the others. "What is our real plan here?"

[WindStruck]

Rokilda rode along beside the others, carefully guiding the dappled gray steed at a leisurely pace. She says, "Like it or not, I believe much stealth and deception will be involved in this mission. The few of us cannot take on entire army, nor even a raiding party of any sizeable amount..."

"As Biarni mentioned last night, he'll take the lead ahead of us along with Narses and do some preliminary scouting. If there is a small group of Danes he believes we can capture, he'll distract them or lead them into a position where we can ambush them. If it's too dangerous to do that... well, he'll have to find some way to excuse himself..."

[Wymmerdann]

Cedric

“The Roman roads should be safe enough while we travel through Wessex, but Mercia has become contested ground, and we must tread carefully,” Cedric explains, trying to make sense of things in his own mind.

“The Mercians in Tamworth are likely to have more up to date information on Danish movements, though in truth I would not wish to make our mission know to such uncertain allies.”

Cedric naturally moves toward the front of the party, ensuring that he remains between Rokilda and whatever may lie in wait for them off the road.

“I must say my lady, that I admire the courage you have shown in our planning. Have you had cause to undertake missions of diplomacy for your father in the past?”

[WindStruck]

"I agree. The roads should be safe. For now."

She looks at Cedric with a smile and almost a laugh. "If only that were true. My father is much more the diplomat. And I am afraid.. this is the furthest I have ever strayed from home..."

Rokilda's eyes scan the horizons, looking for something to take her mind off of that fact. Like it or not, she probably had no clue what she was doing. But at least she had a reason why.

[kjelfalconer]

This was the worst idea he'd ever heard someone else come up with. Could he do better? No. That was why he relied on other people for it. But even he could see this was never going to work.
"Ye cannae seriously still be thinkin' that this will work? I'd hoped mornin' might knock some sense into ye."

"They ain't stupid, ye ken? They ken their own, live with them, fight with them. Even the Dane'd struggle to pass himself. An' that's sayin' they don't ken me or him from experience." He'd only even agreed to come to try and stop them getting themselves killed on this utter madness, but he was beginning to think he ahould have just stayed with the main army. This was doomed anyway, but he was only going to make things worse.

[WindStruck]

Rokilda's distant thoughts were interrupted by Deowulf, who was quite understandably pessimistic.

"With a group as large as an army, would you know everyone's names and everyone's faces? I know I wouldn't. I trust Biarni can pass himself off as a Dane easily. The real difficulty he might have will be lying about what he's doing."

Looking down at Deowulf from her horse and at the rest of the party, she asks, "And what of you? Do you doubt your own ability to fight a few Danes, among the five of you?"

[hannahbbug3]

"I'm inclined to agree with Deowulf," Gabriel said, a frown on his lips. "We shan't underestimate our enemies. To do so would only prove our folly," he hummed. "As for the plan to sneak into the camp... I can't even understand that barbaric tongue. I'd look a fool if you tried to pass me off as a Dane. To me, this idea seems like little more than a suicide mission."

[WindStruck]

Rokilda tilts her head and looks at Gabriel a bit confused. "I thought all we were going to do was try to intercept a few of their scouts... for now."

"Do any of you have objections with that?"

[Janwin]

Biarni remains well in advance of the main group, and thus is unable to point out the incorrect assumptions the Anglo-Saxons are making.

However, he keeps his eyes open for any Danes they may come across in their journey.

[Spiritus]

I was also under the impression that we were looking for a scouting party first, Narses says. I'm no warrior, but it strikes me that taking a group of scouts would be the best way o locate their main force, whatever we decide to do next.

He strides along in hard-wearing leathers, a Longbow unstrung on his back and a wide-brimmed floppy hat upon his head.