The Northlands Saga - Spears in the Ice IC

[farothel]

"Maybe we best move on a bit longer if possible," Bjorn suggested, "until we're out of that creature's territory. Unless you think it won't come near us tonight?"

[DrK]

Freyja

Freyja, still injured and leaning on her massive spear, warily watches the small blue lizard. "I don't mind a small one like that, if it has bigger kin is what worries me." Looking at Bjorn she nods, "Aye, if we press on, those thrice damned sprites of Thurim wanted the cattle and it may be that that wyrmling wants it that way as well."

Hitching up her shield and clutching the spear more tightly she moves to flank the cattle putting herself between the cattle and the small lizard.

[Starbin]

Heltinne Thrainsdottir, Speaker of Spirits

Heltinne spied the small dragon, nodding to the others. ”Frost drakeling and fully grown to boot. Normally they hunt small creatures, like that coney it carries. I think we should be safe. However, I do not see it’s mate - if the female is with child, or newly birthed, both drake kings may be more territorial. Best to move on n and let them be. "

Heltinne waves for the others to lead on, aimed away from where the dragon was flying.

---

OOC - agree you love on and find a spot nearer the edge of the little dragon’s territory.

Spoiler: Status

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AC 15 (19) HP 9/15 Init +1 Move 30
F +1 R +1 W +4
Weapon: MW longspear (+4, 1d8+3), Morningstar (+3, 1d8+2/3)
Spells (Unl) ghost sound, mage hand, guidance, create water, detect magic, spark, stabilize / (1/4) cure light wounds, bless, obscuring mist, endure elements
SLA (alter self): 1/1, Ice armor: 1hr
Key skills: Perception +7; Sense Motive +5; Diplomacy +7; Heal +8; Spellcraft +4; KS Planes +6; KS Geography +5; KS Religion/Arcana/Local +4; KS History +4; Linguistics +4
Effect: ER 5 vs cold, acid, electricity

[Farmerbink]

Elissa nods, knowing the voice of expertise when she hears it. "On, then." She frowns, looking up into the dimming sky.

Spoiler: OOC

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Survival to forecast the weather for ~24 hours: (1d20+8)[16] (vs DC 15, unless other circumstantial things apply)

"I can see alright, if it'll stay clear enough for moonlight. Still, best we find someplace safe to camp sooner rather than later."

[farothel]

"True," Bjorn said, "but let's keep moving for a bit, in order to get away from these drakes as well as the weird water. No sense in staying close to either."
As they moved on, he kept looking out for a nice camping spot, preferably something very defensible.

Spoiler: OOC rolls

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perception to look for a good campsite and also for anything that wants to attack them: (1d20+2)[20]
survival to look for a good campsite if that's the skill needed: (1d20+5)[22]

[Ghostfoot]

You observe the strange creature struggling along with its prey, careful to keep your distance lest you startle or antagonize it and wary of its strange nature. Freyja places her impressive frame between the drakeling and the slow-moving cattle to try and guard against any change in events. Thankfully the thing seems extraordinarily uninterested in the herd of large beasts and the docile creatures amble on following your lead. It flaps off down a nearby gully and you push on in the opposite direction.

The ground starts to firm and you feel you must have reached the fringe of the boggy wasteland. With the sun dipping low Bjorn is on the lookout for a defensible dry spot and finds a low hillock that will comfortably fit you all. Despite the nearness of the haunted moors your wariness given the previous evenings events, the night passes uneventfully.

Next morning you break camp and head off again, definitely now in a terrain of low gullies, tussocks and streams flowing toward the sea ahead of you. After only an hour or two or travel you spy a figure some yards ahead, a woman hunched over who hasn't yet noticed you. It seems clear from where you are that she is checking snares and as she raises a club and brings it down quickly you see she is gathering up a rabbit that was caught in her current trap.

Spoiler: some info

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Survival to forecast the weather for ~24 hours: (1d20+8)[16] (vs DC 15, unless other circumstantial things apply)

For the next two days (today + tomorrow) you believe it will be fair spring weather, cool & calm.

survival to look for a good campsite if that's the skill needed: (1d20+5)[22]

Yes, I think we'll go with Survival as the 'camping' skill. A roll like that will give you some bonuses, if needed.

[Farmerbink]

Elissa grunts. "Any of you know this area? Or who that might be?" she asks. "We should be safe to move slowly for a few more hours, but I'd feel better making camp sooner than later. Oh, and if anyone needs healing still, I should be able to call more."

[DrK]

Freyja

the giantess is happy striding along beside the horses on her own feet rather than trusting to the beasts. As she spies the woman working the snares she slows before bellowing a greeting, "Good morn' where would be? What settlement do we be near?" As she speaks she makes sure to keep her spear pointed down at the ground and appear as friendly as an 8ft giantess in armour can do

[farothel]

Bjorn was content to let others do the talking, but he did make sure the symbol of his Jarl on his shield was clearly visible. He didn't want to arrive here and be arrested for stealing cattle. The woman wouldn't, but he didn't want to scare her off either.

[Ghostfoot]

The woman looks up at the bellowed greeting, a little startled she regains her composure as she rises to her feet, standing strong as any Northlander would. Quickly eyeing you over, dead rabbit in one hand club in the other, she seems quite self-assured despite your large war-band and the massive Freyja.

"This is my land. Kára Jansdottir. Jarl Greymane protects these lands, his hall is yonder. Down by the coast of course. You could reach it by nightfall.

You don't look like bandits, mostly." Her gaze lingering on your captive and the cattle "You have come cross-country through the Moors? Bandit-hunters then. But a long way from your hearth-fire. You look in need of a bath and a good meal."

[farothel]

"The gods know that last part is true," Bjorn said with a grin, "We're from the Jarl of Halfstead and we were on a mission when we came across some bandits who had these cows. The one who survived said they came from here, so we made a slight detour to get them back. I guess if we can get there by tonight, we can get that bath then."

[Farmerbink]

At first, Elissa scowls, visibly misliking the culturally-normative claim of land. She scowls, but makes no overtly impolite nor hostile remarks, for the moment.

Then she quickly perks up, not having expected nor even hoped for such news. The Half-Nük nods slowly, as if unsure whether to trust this previously-unknown Kára. She decides to rock no metaphorical boats, and keeps her thoughts to herself, letting Bjorn and the others set the tone.

[Ghostfoot]

The woman laughs at Bjorn's acknowledgment. "Well, with that at least I can aid you. I don't have much, but you're very welcome to share my campfire."

She leads you along a dirt track to where a small campsite sits idle. Before long Kára has a fire smoldering and a pot heating. As you settle and talk she cleans and skins one of her hares and throws it in the pot, more of a soup than stew but delicious smelling nonetheless.

"Aye, Greymane has been raising a great fleet. He has many men & women with him. They girded themselves with mail hauberk and steel helm, grabbed axe and shield and took to the sea in dragon-prowed longships to go a-viking into the warm waters of the Southlanders. He is but a few days departed and his brother Arne defends the Hall in his stead."

Warmed if not entirely replete, and with this new knowledge, you bid your farewells and continue on the final leg of your journey to Greymane's Hall. The coast is a welcome sight as you descend from the hills, white foam marking the crest of the waves on the Seagestre Gulf and the mountains of the Vastavikland Peninsula visible on the horizon. A good trail skirts the coast and you follow it observing wildlife such as sea otters scampering among the rocks on the shore. Signs of habitation begin to show - tended fields and small huts, cattle grazing. A group of men and women watch you warily as they prepare the carcass of a wild boar, evidently having recently returned from a successful hunt. A brief discussion finds them polite enough, directing you onward along the coast.

By mid afternoon you arrive at what must be Greymane's Hall - a large longhouse with thatched roof and outbuildings, many other buildings and farmhouses in the nearby area. Several fishing boats rest above the high tide line and a few are visible out on the sea, but no longships. People are busy about their tasks - men & women working and children helping or playing. The place is quietly busy...

[farothel]

Bjorn looked around for one of the guards.
"Greetings," he said when he had found one, "I'm Bjorn Ulgardson, huscarl of the Jarl of Halfstead and my friends here are also in his service. While patrolling we found a group of bandits with these cattle. The lone survivor confirmed that they came from here so we're here to bring them back. Can we speak to the Jarl please?"

[Farmerbink]

Elissa stays a few paces back from the edge of the woman's fire, visibly discomfited with her- or perhaps the prospect of meeting more of her clan. She accepts the soup gratefully, and offers a few coins in return, being unused to the kindness of strangers. If anything, she's left even more confused by the social norms that she never truly learned in childhood.

They carefully descend from the hinterlands, and she grows increasingly unsettled as the land shows more and more signs of civilized inhabitation. With less and less need for active scouting, she finds herself traveling nearer and nearer to her new companions, for lack of a comfortable option. As wilderness gives way to farmland and thatched outbuildings, she surreptitiously (or so she thinks) begins cowling herself with some of the excess furs she's worn loosely thus far, deliberately masking her features like a child's nightmare of too much attention.

All-but cowering behind Bjorn, Elissa is almost comically conspicuous in her efforts to remain otherwise. There's simply no hiding her discomfort, nor her animalistic naivety in the light of so many people.

[Ghostfoot]

A weathered old huscarl looks you over, taking in the scene of the cattle and the captive cattle thief with a scowl. "Javik's murderer eh? Come". He ushers your group into the longhall as young lads and lasses scurry about no doubt spreading the news to all in the community.

In the hall a jarl sits talking with a small group of carls, his prowess evident from the many golden armbands he wears. They look up as your guard introduces you.

"Welcome friends. I am Arne Greymane. My brother Ulf is jarl here, but he is recently departed on a glory-quest to the settlements of the weaklings Southlanders. You have caught us a murderer and thief? A fine gift indeed. You are welcome here. Please, eat, drink."

The huscarls grab your captive, Cnut, and take him away as word is no doubt spreading the a Thing has been called. You sit and relax with Arne as people start to assemble in the hall and outside. He asks of your adventures and listens intently as you recount your hunt for Styr the Ugly and encounters with these cattle raiders and worse.

After an hour or so enough folk have gathered and the commencement of the Thing is announced. A skald recounts your tale for all to hear and you are called on to describe specific valorous deeds. In particular two bandaged and bleeding young men watch with interest and you are informed that these are the sons of the late Javik Gilson, injured defending their cattle even as their father lay murdered by the thieves.

Sentence is pronounced, swift and without protest. With the exception of course of the sole surviving coward Cnut who wails for his life even as a huscarl brings his blade down to carry out the sentence, head cleanly severed from the cowards shoulders.

Arne offers his advice as a bundle of hacksilver is brought forward. "A reward for bringing the cattle back and for putting those thieves down where they belong. Now about this Styr. Aye if he's not to be found in the Moors then try the forest between here and Silvermeade. If the Norns have favoured you in those gods-cursed moors then the forest will be nothing for men and women like you."

Spoiler: Loot & stuff

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100gp each

You may spend the night here.

Limited shopping - pretty much anything nonmagical up to 50gp in value may be purchased here. Ask if you're after anything odd.

If you wish to engage in any social activity or roleplay you may - let me know.

[farothel]

Bjorn thanked the jarl for his generosity and after a fine meal, where he sat with the huscarls and swapped stories, he went outside to see if he could get some supplies. Besides replenishing his rations so they could move on to the next part of their search for Styr and some good fishing hooks, he also searched for a cold iron sword in case they would encounter more of those demon things they had seen in the moors and a compass to make sure they stayed on track. He also tried to get a feeling of the mood in this settlement.

Spoiler: OOC action and shopping list

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I'll try to get an idea of the mood here.

Shopping list
-cold iron short sword (20gp)
-compass (10gp)
-rations (6 days, 3 gp)
-fisshook and line (1sp)

[DrK]

Freyja Skirlaug Freyja walked confidently into the village, spear in hand as she helped lead the bedraggled Cnut to what will be a well earned fate. As she enjoys the meal in the longhouse, she sits apart slightly from the others, well used to the looks of suspicion and superstitious kissing of iron rings as men and woman came near. It was always thus, her Jotun blood a curse in such places as people expected her to be savage and drink the blood of the children. She accepts the hacksilver and the songs of the skald with a graceful now before settling down with much food but little mead, it would not do good to be befuddled here and cause trouble in error. She watches the sentence carried out impassively, a just sentence for such a creature before asking the Jarl Arne. "Jarl Arne, have you a guide amongst the men here who can help up find Styr in the woods. Surely you must have some hunters who know the goods here like I would know the deck of my longship? Looking around the small town she'll head to shrine to the Old gods, leaving an offering of silver (~10gp worth) to Wodan to thank him for the strength of arms in the battle and for sending aid when they fought the creature of Hel. Aside from that with a full belly, a slightly heavier purse she awaits a guide to take them deep into the woods o the route to Silvermeade.

Spoiler: OOC

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Freyja Skirlaug
F LG Jotun (Giant blooded) Paladin (Shield maiden) 2, Level 2, Init 1, HP 22/22, Speed 40
AC 17, Touch 10, Flat-footed 16, CMD 18, Fort 6, Ref 2, Will 3, CMB +7, Base Attack Bonus 2
Reach (15ft) MW Longspear +8 (2d6+4, X3)
Battle axe +6 (2d6+4, X3)
Throwing axes // Javelins (2 axes / 5 javelins ) +6 / +2 ranged (1d8+4 / 1d8+4, x2 / x2)
MW Chain Shirt, Heavy wooden shield (+4 Armor, +3 Shield, +1 Dex, -1 Size)
Abilities Str 18, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 13

Condition None
Smite Evil 1/day (+Cha hit, deflect, +Pal damage) 1 / 1 remaining
Axe to Grind (+1 dam if only opponent)
Trip with Spear (CMB+9)

[Farmerbink]

In the wake of Freyja's vast form, Mørkedrømevandrer's imposing gaze, and Bjorn and Heltinne's no-nonsense approach, Elissa finds herself far from the source of ado and discomfort she's experienced in the past. It's not enough to make the evening comfortable, but between something of a pleasant distance from the spotlight and a heavy purse of coin, she has little trouble remaining at ease with these people.

Glancing from the injured youth to the justice meted upon their abuser, Elissa forces herself to watch and nods grimly. She frowns, considering their interest potentially dangerous, but the situation remains otherwise peaceful, and before long food and drink is passed about aplenty.

Elissa' overriding suspicion keeps her from partaking much of the mead, but the stew and game are fine- clearly prepared by expert hands. Thus sated, the evening wanes and questions of rest and the hunt's renewal surface. The feral huntress glances to her unlikely companions more than a few times before inclining her head in obvious submission to Freyja- whether viewed as the leader or simply the most approachable to Eliisa. "I would join you on this hunt as well, warrior maiden of Woden. Would you have me?"

[Ghostfoot]

You enjoy yourselves in Greymane's Hall for the remainder of the afternoon and evening, taking time to re-equip yourselves and swapping tales over mead and stew. The mood is buoyant, the remaining freemen and householders excited about the expedition to the weakling southern lands that Arne's brother Jarl Ulf is leading. Ulf is a well-experienced and successful raider who's daring is second to none. The raiding party was quite large, some twenty-two longships, and while it will be some months until their return the kinfolk are jubilant and proud.

With Freyja's request for a guide a man steps forward, copper-coloured hair and shaggy beard covering a few scars on his neck. He introduces himself "Aye, I can take you through the forest. It's not so bad a trek now the spring thaw is through. Thalli Hallison is my name." He clasps your forearm as a deal is struck.

Rising refreshed and bathed the next morning with horses well fed, you gather yourselves and prepare to set off back to Silvermeade Hall through the forest, hoping to come across the brigands en route to mete some justice...

Spoiler: costs

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Each PC deduct 3gp/ hacksilver for the guide

We'll move onto the forest trek next...feel free to post any last actions/ updates as suits

[DrK]

Freyja Skirlaug During the feast Freyja looks to Elissa with some surpirise as she asks to join the hunt. Gods know you are welcome. You saved us form the fey. Beware though," she whispers dropping her voice, "Many of these men will seek to take advantage of you. As much for your outland ways as for being a woman. I shall do what I can to keep you safe, Wodan protects those with a strong right arm." Before she can say more the Jarl introduces the guide and Freyja stands, towering above him and looks at him carefullly. She searches the skeins of fate seeking to look into the man's heart to see if he is a good man at heart or evil and welcomes him to the table. "Come drink with us tell us oft he woods and your family..." She'll spend some of the evening chatting to the man to appraise his worth before retiring for the night, spear close at hand and then up early to pray and make ready for a day hunting in the woods.

Spoiler: OOC

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Detect Evil on Thalli
Sense motive on him as a general "is he a shady person" type appraisal (1d20+4)[19]


Freyja Skirlaug
F LG Jotun (Giant blooded) Paladin (Shield maiden) 2, Level 2, Init 1, HP 22/22, Speed 40
AC 17, Touch 10, Flat-footed 16, CMD 18, Fort 6, Ref 2, Will 3, CMB +7, Base Attack Bonus 2
Reach (15ft) MW Longspear +8 (2d6+4, X3)
Battle axe +6 (2d6+4, X3)
Throwing axes // Javelins (2 axes / 5 javelins ) +6 / +2 ranged (1d8+4 / 1d8+4, x2 / x2)
MW Chain Shirt, Heavy wooden shield (+4 Armor, +3 Shield, +1 Dex, -1 Size)
Abilities Str 18, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 13

Condition None
Smite Evil 1/day (+Cha hit, deflect, +Pal damage) 1 / 1 remaining
Axe to Grind (+1 dam if only opponent)
Trip with Spear (CMB+9)

[Farmerbink]

Elissa nods, taking Freyja's words at face value, or at least seeming to. "I will not be easy prey," she insists, before surprising herself as much as anyone else by joining her at the table.

She sits quietly, listening to a dozen words for each one of hers, but seems to be genuinely enjoying the company by the evening's end.

[farothel]

Bjorn does speak to the guide to see what kind of person he is, but he spends most of the evening in the company of the huscarls swapping stories of things they have done. He regales them with the story about the troll and the ice demons.

[Starbin]

Heltinne Thrainsdottir, Speaker of Spirits

Heltinne sat during the feast silent for most of it. Her eyes had taken on a glow shortly after they had met the old woman and her silence was surely a sign of her connection to the gods. The others had left her to her silence, speaking on behalf of the group as they brought the cattle thieves to justice. It was not until part way through the meal as Freyja and Elissa spoke that Hetinne's eyes blinked and returned to normal. She turned her gaze to the two women as a small smile played on her lips. Nodding to the wild woman, she said, ”You look to be far from easy prey … as does Freyja. We three shall ensure no man finds us easy prey, or mewling qwim. Now, pass me the mead … my commune is done and I am thirsty."

When the meal was done and there was time to purchase items, she joined the group to ensure she had both a silvered weapon and one of feybane steel. Then she used her last spell to provide whatever healing was still needed to aid her companions.

---

OOC - I'll put the list down later, but likely a cold iron Morningstar and a silvered dagger. And maybe a couple of alchemist fire vials.

Spoiler: Status

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AC 15 (19) HP 9/15 Init +1 Move 30
F +1 R +1 W +4
Weapon: MW longspear (+4, 1d8+3), Morningstar (+3, 1d8+2/3)
Spells (Unl) ghost sound, mage hand, guidance, create water, detect magic, spark, stabilize / (1/4) cure light wounds, bless, obscuring mist, endure elements
SLA (alter self): 1/1, Ice armor: 1hr
Key skills: Perception +7; Sense Motive +5; Diplomacy +7; Heal +8; Spellcraft +4; KS Planes +6; KS Geography +5; KS Religion/Arcana/Local +4; KS History +4; Linguistics +4
Effect: ER 5 vs cold, acid, electricity

[Ghostfoot]

Freyja spends some time getting the measure of your guide Thalli during the evening. The man seems solid. A simple woodsman, in a culture that champions seacraft his task is to source choice lumber from the woods for use in shipbuilding weaponcraft and other carpentry.

The forest is relatively open. Few people venture deep here because of its horrid reputation, and thus few trees are felled these days. It is an old forest, with soaring towers of tree trunks spreading out above to form a tightly closed canopy, leaving the forest floor in deep shade. A low mist hangs about in dells and crannies, and seems to flow away as you approach.

Spoiler: Knowledge - Heltinne & Elissa

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The forest here is a remnant of the mighty forest that once covered most of the Hord Peninsula, as Heltinne and Elissa ae aware. In decades past, it was logged and thinned in all but its southerly most reaches where it is still thick and primordial and is known as the Forest of Woe. However, since the fey that have long inhabited the depths of the Forest of Woe have become more problematic in past years, the logging has ceased everywhere but on the outermost edges of the tree line. Even here on the peninsula’s northern reaches, the forest is often looked at askance, as if it were the Forest of Woe itself.

The part of the forest near the hall is a relatively peaceful stretch of woodland, one regularly used by people from the area for hunting, wood gathering, and other such activities. However, to pass through this arm of the forest and loop around the southern edge of the Stonefist Hills in order to find safe passage toward Silvermeade Hall, you have to skirt the deeper and darker heart of the forest.

There is no straight path through the forest. You either have to go cross-country or try to navigate a maze of game trails and small paths. Striking out cross-country is difficult, and the forest floor is dense enough in places that horses would have a hard time getting through. Following the trails is easier, though they do twist and turn, crossing each other with great frequency. Great owls perch in the branches of several trees as you pass, glorious birds with gray and white plumage silently watching. Perhaps due to some of the lingering faerie enchantment of the forest, the trails sometimes seem to change direction and location, confusing your senses. Thankfully Thalli proves competent and you find yourselves making good progress through the day.

After some hours beneath the bows of the forest, you come upon a shocking scene. A rugged and heavily muscled Northman is tied to the trunk of a gnarled oak tree, arms suspended above, a foot above the ground. From the way the ropes are tied, it is evident that he tied them himself. He is entirely unclothed, and his body is crisscrossed with scars both old and new. His face is a mask of dried blood on one side where it his flowed down his cheek and onto his chest, and it is evident that that eye has been plucked out. His other eye is closed, and his face is a contorted mask of pain.

Spoiler: Knowledge - Freyja & Heltinne

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You realise that this man is a Bearsarker and has hung himself from this tree in imitation of Wotan’s sacrifice in order to gain wisdom. He is deep in reverie and should not be disturbed as he seeks divinely inspired revelations.

While the gods do not normally interfere in the lives of mortals, save for the most heroic, there are those who have been touched by the gods and granted power through them. Some are not merely granted powers, but are transformed by the contact with the gods. One of these mortals so altered are the Bearsarkers, a cult dedicated to the worship of Wotan and the glory of the spear-din.

The Bearsarker Cult is a sacred order of men and women who have dedicated their lives Wotan. There are many reasons they choose to do so, but the most common is that they feel an intense desire to enter a savage fury and commit rampant acts of slaughter. This urge to rage is even greater during battle, and so in order to control this drive and have a place in society, the Bearsarker Cult of Wotan has formed. Through esoteric arts, ritual drunkenness, and great personal sacrifice, the Bearsarker not only tames their inner fire, but also learns to become a whirling spirit of death and destruction, when the time for such action is called for. Most do not live long, especially when one considers that their rituals are fairly violent and often result in severe injury and maiming. It is not unusual to find a Bearsarker who has plucked out one of their own eyes to gain wisdom, or who has spent time mediating while hung on a tree of woe.

Members of the cult undergo extensive training in order to learn to control their rage, as well as training in religion and the esoteric arts. Although inwardly highly meditative and thoughtful people, the outward appearance of the Bearsarkers gives others pause, considering the reputation of the cult for great savagery barely contained as well as incredible feats of stamina and strength. As per their religious dictates, Bearsarkers do not bathe except for rare ritual purification purposes, clad themselves only in a loincloth and bear robe, and never cut their hair or beards. This shaggy, unkempt and wild appearance is the means by which the cult is known, and seeing a Bearsarker on the other side of a battlefield has been known to turn the morale of even the most hardy of warriors. Also, despite, or because of, their sacred status, Bearsarkers are afforded a great deal of leeway in their actions and behavior.

Bearsarkers must maintain the unkempt appearance of their faith, worship Wotan above all other gods, remain honorable, forsake marriage, children and wealth, and live to serve the Northlander people as a whole.

[farothel]

"What the hell is going on here," Bjorn said as he dismounted, weapon ready and looking around for trouble.

Spoiler: OOC rolls

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perception: (1d20+2)[11]

[DrK]

Freyja Skirlaug Freyja eyed the tress with suspicion as she marched through the forests, an eye on the leaves and boughs above her lest any more evil sprites of ice lurk within the branches. She is happy with Thali, a simple man of honest measure and makes sure to say as much to the others in quiet moments as the opportunity presents itself. As the day wears on she finds herself tiring, the past few days and the night of the ritual sill lingering within her thoughts as she is troubled by the events that had transpired. The bearserker though, she looks at him with a mixture of dislike a pity. She was wedded to Wotan's service, a shieldmaiden to the all father, but these bearserkers embraced the savages of battle all too freely and committed atrocities that would make her feel the greatest of shame should she follow that path. At Bjorn's words she glances down at the man. " bearserker. He imitates the all father on the Tree of Woe seeking the wisdom of the gods. the same wisdom that his eye that cannot see can see." Looking around the clearing she motions to the far side, "We should leave him undisturbed, he will be unpredictable and likely violent if disturbed by our passing."

Spoiler: OOC

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Freyja Skirlaug
F LG Jotun (Giant blooded) Paladin (Shield maiden) 2, Level 2, Init 1, HP 22/22, Speed 40
AC 17, Touch 10, Flat-footed 16, CMD 18, Fort 6, Ref 2, Will 3, CMB +7, Base Attack Bonus 2
Reach (15ft) MW Longspear +8 (2d6+4, X3)
Battle axe +6 (2d6+4, X3)
Throwing axes // Javelins (2 axes / 5 javelins ) +6 / +2 ranged (1d8+4 / 1d8+4, x2 / x2)
MW Chain Shirt, Heavy wooden shield (+4 Armor, +3 Shield, +1 Dex, -1 Size)
Abilities Str 18, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 13

Condition None
Smite Evil 1/day (+Cha hit, deflect, +Pal damage) 1 / 1 remaining
Axe to Grind (+1 dam if only opponent)
Trip with Spear (CMB+9)

[Farmerbink]

Elissa troops along solemnly at the rear of the small procession. As they venture deeper into the woods, she grows more at ease, familiar and comfortable in the uninhabited wilds of the Northlands. She whispers as they travel, speaking thanks to the spirits of the wild and honoring the great feathered owls as they stand sentinel over their party- for the calm of the wilds can be only a good omen.

At the sight of the hanged man, Elissa visibly starts. Somehow, despite the bizarre appearance of intrusion, the man's presence seems consistent with the wills of the spirits and the gods alike. She studies him carefully, perhaps appreciating the muscled form more than might be considered proper, before turning her attention to Freyja's explanation. She nods slowly, beginning to develop more of an understanding of these strange "civilized" people's ways, but frowns at her suggestion to leave him be. For several heartbeats, her eyes glint with a feral hunger, like a tigress in heat.

After an uncomfortable pause, Elissa seems to master herself once more. With a shake of her head, she refocuses on their guide and the task at hand. Gripping her bow, perhaps a little too tightly, she growls under her breath as the party begins to move on.

[farothel]

"If you say so," Bjorn said to Freyja. He wasn't sure, but he had heard about berserkers and the violent if disturbed part was certainly true.

[Starbin]

Heltinne Thrainsdottir, Speaker of Spirits

Heltinne nodded at Freyja’s description. Before they departed, she did offer an alternative perspective. ”Agreed that we do not disturb his meditation, but let us wait a bit. If he awakens, he may have wisdom that benefits us ... and better to make ourselves known to him now, least a misunderstanding arise if we meet later. "

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OOC - Might be worth making a friend ...

Spoiler: Status

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AC 15 (19) HP 9/15 Init +1 Move 30
F +1 R +1 W +4
Weapon: MW longspear (+4, 1d8+3), Cold iron Morningstar (+3, 1d8+2/3)
Spells (Unl) ghost sound, mage hand, guidance, create water, detect magic, spark, stabilize / (1/4) cure light wounds, bless, obscuring mist, endure elements
SLA (alter self): 1/1, Ice armor: 1hr
Key skills: Perception +7; Sense Motive +5; Diplomacy +7; Heal +8; Spellcraft +4; KS Planes +6; KS Geography +5; KS Religion/Arcana/Local +4; KS History +4; Linguistics +4
Effect: ER 5 vs cold, acid, electricity