[WFRP2e] The Saga of Jorunn - Part 1 - "That Which Remains"

[bramblefoot]

jorunn will attempt to finish off dorluf, even as a massive blow is parried. two miss, but tone massive blow gets through, hopefully staving in dorluf

(3d100)[77][89][67](233)

(1d10+6)[14]
(1d10+6)[13]
(1d10+6)[15]

[MrAbdiel]

Unable to wait for Dorluf to die on his own - he's too deadly, even dying - you clinch in and drive Witherbrand into his heart. The huge man's strength is a match for your own even in this wild ursine form, but this is too much; and with a gurgling, hateful wheeze, he perishes in your arms, like his comrades around you. Your wolf, as is his habit, latches onto Dorluf's neck when he hits the ground, and gives it a good chomp-and-shake.

"Gods' blood... They just don't care to die, do they?" Marlene pants from her own exertions, now that the battle is over and she is free to hunker forward and catch her breath.

[bramblefoot]

jorunn will shift down, and take dorlufs skull for his own collection. "thats what happens when you're raised in the land of salt and smoke" he says, puffing a little. "lets take their stuff" he says, and will search the bodies for any clue to their allegiance, along with whatever kit they have

Spoiler: ooc

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do i get any xp for this?

[MrAbdiel]

Ortel gets about checking everyone's wounds; yours first. The rest of the gang gets looting. At the end, you have four more sets of (somewhat bloody) armor; ringmail and leather. "Armor always sells good... but maybe we save it to try to pass on at another town, rather than immediately sell it back at the Graeling Moot from which these boys came," Byjan sensibly suggests as he stuffs the loot into the saddlebags of your goat, who has bravely stood nearby this whole time. The weapons of the Graeling are also present; though the only remarkable one is a pistol from the hip of the sword-and-dagger fellow who was harassing Ortel. Such weapons are uncommon up here; but here we are. Maybe he was waiting for a moment to use it - but his moment ended before it came.

Spoiler: XP and Loot

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No XP for this immediate fight, but I will keep it in mind when you've finished all your shenanigans in the Graeling Moot and compensate at that time!

Loot:

4 * Sets of Full Mail (Damaged, Bloody. Includes leather layer.)
4 * Hand Weapons
4 * Daggers
2 * Greatweapons
1 * Pistol (Loaded)
1 * Pouch of spare shot (enough powder and lead for five shots, after the one loaded.)

OrtelHealingVs54 - (1d100)[49] for perhaps (1d10)[8], to Jorunn.

"Tricky," Byjan notes. "We could head back into town and rest for the day, perhaps look for a gemcutter - but someone told these berserkers who we were and where to find us, and they'll know we killed them if we waltz right back in. I think we might do better laying low out here again - maybe not under this bleak tree. Unless you'd prefer to risk it, for haste's sake."

[bramblefoot]

"personally, id blame that sway-backed goatherd" jorunn says, cleaning the blood off witherbrand and sheathing it. "if anyone is an information broker, it's him. hell, when he heard we were going out to that bone tree, he prolly sold the information to people"

"lets move camp, and head back into town in a day or two"

[MrAbdiel]

You spend a couple of days 'laying low' outside of the town, with your sacks of gems keeping you occupied. Ortel has work to do anyway - getting used to the shamanic bullroarer, trying to learn his part for your heist. He spends many hours whirling it over his head for an uneven droning sound; but eventually finds a pitch that makes your wolf immediately perk up and take notice. Not wanting to summon a great mass of wolves, he holds off once he's gotten the hang of it.

"Well... I suppose I'm ready to try, when you say so. I think you'll want to be in the Graeling Moot when I'm drawing and steering them; I can't imagine the beasts will be comfortable sitting and waiting idly while everyone takes their places. Where do you want Marlene and Byjan, when the time comes? Hiding with you, to break into the trophy hall? Or making themselves scarce nearby incase?"

[bramblefoot]

jorunn will consider. "id like byjan with me, and marlene on overwatch" he says, considering his options

CK: strategy and tactics

(1d100)[100]

[MrAbdiel]

Thus, the plan is set: You and Byjan make your way, hoods up, back into the Graeling Moot. You buy some hard bread from a local seller and sit to eat it in view, not far from the Trophy Hall. Marlene is somewhere else in the town already, similarly innocuous, keeping watch, ready to signal you with her bow if something goes amiss. Outside, somewhere, Ortel and your wolf are trying to execute the most fantastical part of the plan - getting a flood of goats to charge through the streets.

Now you play the waiting game. If only it were that simple.

Spoiler: OOC:

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What happens to complicate this part of the plan - before any sign of the distraction?

[bramblefoot]

jorunn watches and waits, arms crossed. his eyes pick out a bit of movement on the corner of the moot, a few muffled words and a knowing glance in their direction from the sway-backed goatherd. two burly bondsman will muscle their way through the crowd, headed in their direction

"we've been made" jorunn mutters. "split up, and see if we can lose these guys"

[MrAbdiel]

Byjan nods, finishes the heel of bread in a greedy bite, and peels away from you down the nearby slush-filled main road of the Moot's shrine road, while you fork off toward the stables. Stealing only small glances back at your pursuers, must hope they are losing you - and you given them every reason to do so.

Spoiler: OOC:

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Chance of Goat: 10%, increasing every 'round'. vs10 - (1d100)[80].

Give me a Concealment role to lose your pursuers without provoking a noisy fight. The modifier is flat at a base, but I'll give you +20% if you can include some interesting novel idea for hiding or escaping in your post!

[bramblefoot]

jorunn will not be able to lose the bondsman on him, but he will take the bondsman down a blind alley and attempt to finish him off

(1d10+4)[10]

[MrAbdiel]

The bondsman who follows you into the alley is young, with a desperate excuse for a blond beard and clean, barely calloused knuckles on the hand resting cautiously on his axe's hilt. When you round on him in the alley, he is taken completely by surprise and blinks, dumbfounded.

Spoiler: Rolls!

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(1d10+3)[8] Initiative! Jorunn up first.

[bramblefoot]

jorunn will make two attacks on the man

(2d100)[81][64](145)

(1d10+5)[7]
(1d10+5)[6]

parry
(1d100)[81]

dodge
(1d100)[81]

[MrAbdiel]

Spoiler: OOC: Rolls!

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Chance of goat: Vs20 - (1d100)[60].

Young bondsman takes 2 wounds from the second attack, the first misses. He is no longer surprised but Jorunn goes gain.

You slash across the bondsman's body, which breaks him from his stupor even if the leather takes most of it. He makes a confused, shocked coughing sound as he reels back and goes for his weapons; barely able to believe he so suddenly ended up in a fight. No sigh of the distraction just yet - hopefully, Byjan is doing alright where he is.

[bramblefoot]

jorunn will attempt to finish off the bondsman

(2d100)[1][52](53)

(1d10+5)[13]
(1d10+5)[11]

[MrAbdiel]

Spoiler: OOC: Rolls!

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Chance of goat: Vs30 - (1d100)[25]

You snatch the bondsman by the shirt, and jam the point of Witherbrand up under his chin. You feel the satisfying click of bone busting as the blade cracks through the seams of the skull in the oral cavity, and the young man dies instantly; his body spasming and biting futilly on the blade until you pry it off, and drag him around behind the nearby meat smoking hut, quietly tipping a trough of stowed charcoal over to bury him from possible discovery...

... just in time for a great commotion to start brewing in the streets beyond.

"Hey - woah, hey, look out!"
"What's this - whose are - oof!"
"Floki, climb up here - there's hundreds of them. What fool is doing this?"
"Not my radishes get away! hey!"

A pitter patter of hooves becomes a thundering of them and a chorus of braying hundreds of goats - both conventionally sized and the large, pony-sized regional variant - are driven through the streets at a low panic, knocking over carts and fences, spilling down side lanes, cantankerously headbutting people who get in their way. It doesn't take long until this half of the Graeling Moot is buzzing with chaos. Beyond and behind the herd, you hear the howling of many wolves. Much closer, you hear shouts of dismay and confusion from the street, the buildings around you, and - importantly - from the trophy hall. Three big, great haired but powerfully built veterans emerge from within, where they had been, it seems, admiring the content.

"What the hell is going on? Where are the goatherds?"
"I hear wolves. Did the skinchangers scare the herds into town...?"
"Nonsense - they don't come up here. And they're well fed where they are. Lothgar, mind the hall - we must get to the bottom of this."

You hear the doors close again. "Lothgar", apparently a lone sentinel left in the trophy hall, can be heard dropping the bar behind the warriors as they force their way out into the confused and panicking streets.

The door is barred, with someone inside watching; but perhaps a less conventional entry would serve your purposes.

Spoiler: OOC: What now?

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Your distraction is working - but now what to do? You need to get inside somehow.
You could try to hack your way in through the front door - if you're very quick you might succeed, in the chaos. You could try to bluff in past "Lothgar"; or something sneakier, like climbing up and trying to pry your way through the thatched roof. Or anything you care to think of that makes sense!

[bramblefoot]

jorunn will wipe the blood off his blade, and sheathe it. he'll sidle back out and scan for byjan.

(1d100)[70]

[MrAbdiel]

Byjan is nowhere to be seen. He must be nearby, dealing with his own troublesome bondsman - perhaps, a little slower than you dealt with yours.

[bramblefoot]

jorunn will climb onto the roof of the longhouse, and try to get through the thatched roof. he gets through quickly and will drop to the floor, moving to get behind lothmar and quickly dispose of him

strength roll
(1d100)[33]

[MrAbdiel]

With a mighty effort, you tear and hack the thatches aside until there is a big enough hole and then drop into a lantern lit hall full of mounted beast skulls, golden trinkets, and broken weapons from defeated champions. With the wicked blade in one hand, you prepare to engage the lone defender - and find it to be an aging man, leaning on the long half of a war axe. He has the tired, scarred skin of a warrior who has seen his prime and lived long past it - and judging by the way he watches the door infront of him and not behind him where you dropped in, he is stone deaf.

An old warrior is a sad thing. Bjornlings have a tradition of honouring their aging elders, but to the Graeling, like most Norscans, a warrior ought to die in combat with his weapon in hand, lest he risk some eternal peril when Old Jormung tastes their cowardice.

It would be easy enough to stab him in the back. Less easy, but possible, to complete your task without him knowing. And honoring to an old warrior to alert him, and defeat and slay him face to face.

[bramblefoot]

jorunn will stalk up behind the old man, and run him through. after that, he'll move to search the place

search roll
(1d100)[50]

[MrAbdiel]

The deaf old warrior releases a weak gasp as you run him through. His heart is pierced - he does not even get the chance to look over his shoulder at the face of his murderer.

With that last obstacle left to cool in a bloodslick on the floor, you look around the trophy hall at the numerous pedestals and altars and mounted icons; offerings from clans and warparties given to the Graeling Moot as a sign of their loyalty with the greater tribe. Most are either too large to consider taking, or not valuable outside of being a trophy - the skull of some Imperial prince and his griffon is hardly worth having unless you killed them yourself. There are numerous 'prize' weapons won in duels from other clans; but they are unlikely to serve better in combat than the weapons you have and, as far as their resale value, it hardly seems worthwhile hauling a bag of stolen iron over the mountains when your goat is already going to be laden down with gems.

There is something your eyes land on that seems interesting - a short spear, whose wooden shaft is grooved with intricate Darktongue lettering. A clear and inexplicable instinct tells your intuition that this weapon has been made to contain a daemon - but has not been used. If used to commit the killing blow on such a chaos spirit, it will trap and commit them to the weapon instead of incorporating and banishing them. At that point, whether the daemonspear is worth keeping or pitching away would be up to the wielder... and the daemon.

The idol of the Free Maiden is easily enough located, atleast. It is on the ground at the foot of another pedestal, upon which is a wrought iron icon of the eight pointed star- the symbol of the Four. The icon of the maiden is wrapped loosely in chains, to the pedestal beneath.

[bramblefoot]

jorunn will liberate the spear, and the icon of the free maiden, and leave back through the way he came, if possible. if not, he'll leave via the front door

[MrAbdiel]

Out the front door, the goats swarm and the citizens of the Graeling Moot scramble to contain them in ones and twos. The alarmed goatherds have arrived now, raving about an army of wolves spooking and driving their herds. So you try your luck climbing out again, bracing one foot on top of the ring of the icon of the eight pointed, and poking your hands up to push up the loosened thatch. As you do, an arrow thumps into the thatch near you, almost startling you enough to fall. It's one of Marlene's arrows; and you pause in your climb long enough to hear another set of feet land on the roof from an adjacent house, and take a cautious step or two. Having not half-exposed yourself, the man - another bondsman by the make of the boots you can see - does not raise the alarm. He just creeps towards the disturbed thatch... before Byjan's hands reach up and grab his ankles, pulling them out from under him so he smashes face first into the roof and is then pulled clear off it. Another quiet thump is heard, and then Byjan peers up over the edge of the roof.

"Psst. Hey! Did you get it? Let's go, let's go!"

Escaping need not be as difficult as killing your way into the building was. There are bondsmen all over, shoving goats out the gate of the city and chasing them around. You need only look as confused and alarmed as they do.

Spoiler: OOC:

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There isn't really a skill for "act cool and blend in". Maybe charm? I'll let you roll charm to try to blend in with the other bondsmen trying to deal with the goats until you are outside, concealment to sneak, or animal care to actually help with the goat extraction (which might be convincing cover in itself). All circumstances are favorable enough that I think you might attempt so with a -10%. If you pass, you're clear to the bone tree to reunite with the warband. If you fail... you might suggest what complicates your extraction!

[bramblefoot]

"i got it" jorunn says. the leaving goes smoothly, and the party reconvenes at the bone tree. "next, we need to find the village of fijrgard. the goatherd told me to follow the falls until we reach the fish traps and then watch and wait" he says

[MrAbdiel]

No daemonic defenders leap up when you abduct the statue and the daemonspear; and with them in hand, you and Byjan simply leave the Graeling Moot; going in the same direction as the goat traffic streaming in one side of town and out the other, where goatherds are frantically recapturing them, bickering over ownership, while bondsmen with short patience and town elders bark and stomp their feet. Marlene finds you shortly after, on your way back to the camp you pitched within view of the bone tree. There, you find Ortel, and your wolf - both looking somewhat pleased with themselves - and also about forty additional wolves just lazing about; sniffing, biting, watching, whining with idleness. Ortel sees you arrive, and gives a small smile; and then offers a snarling, snapping bark at the wolves that take their cue and scatter into their pacts into the wilderness.

Your pack goat is so releived at their departure that he releases a pent up torrent of goat pellets, which seems as good a sign that it is indeed time to move on as any. With one small stop for Ortel to drop off the bullroarer at the Threefold Lodge, you get on your way before the Graelings finish reeling from the chaos you have caused; and once more you are out in the wild places.

Spoiler: OOC:

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Gain 250XP for your adventures in the Graeling moot. Ortel has also finished a sort of 'loyalty quest', Mass Effect 2 style, and is somewhat more competent then before.

How fast do you want to travel?

At Normal Speed, you have a lower risk of falling into hazards; but if the Graelings get wise and send anyone after you, they'll have an easier time catching up.

If you up to Hasty Speed, it's less likely the Graelings will catch you if they send someone - but you're sacrificing caution for pace.

[bramblefoot]

jorunn will mount the goat, and take off at a cautious pace. "well that was interesting" he chirps, going at a slow enough pace to let his unmounted people keep up. "i say we avoid the moot on the return trip, and head back after fijrgard"

Spoiler: ooc

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im going at cautious speed

[MrAbdiel]

There is no screaming horde of Graelings coming after you, after all - it seems you've gotten away with your heist scott free.

You follow the frozen river away from the mountains for two days. Your first disruption on the journey to Fijrgard happens on the third day.

Flies are more plentiful here; buzzing about your face, and the goat's backside. More than there should be - though the smell of decay is ripe here, as if some great beast had died in the wood nearby and gone to stench. But the smell doesn't fade as you carry on for the morning hours - it grows more intense. Finally stopping to hold your noses and eat, Marlene curses and holds up a blackened, curled piece of salted fish from her bag.

"Dammit - the rations have all turned. They were fine, yesterday! We'll have to rely on game for now, and hope things clear up further down the river."

This strikes you, without a second thought, as some curse, or evil magic. Ortel agrees. "Something is poisoning the life here - and rotting the dead, even the preserved meats. Maybe a small herdstone, in the trees? Perhaps if we seek, we can find and throw it down - that way, if the land is poisoned even further on, we are not starving any longer than we have to be. I haven't seen any game animals in the last day..."

Spoiler: OOC:

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Do you investigate, looking for the source of the corruption - or push on, hoping to get past it before things get too dire?

[bramblefoot]

"lets take care of the herdstone, if there is one" jorunn says. "teams of two, stay close and frosty" he'll take marlene with him, and let byjan and ortel go another way. he'll pull the spear out from his pack, and spur the goat into a trot

Spoiler: ooc

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sniff sniff i smell a plague daemon

[MrAbdiel]

You forge into the trees north west of the river; you and Byjan with your wolf at your side, with Ortel and Marlene minding the goat. The animals find it distressing first; they sense a wrongness in the nature of the area. Soon, the trees stop being tough green conifers and start being browning, sagging parodies of trees; flecked with termites and rot. You see no animals, on your journey; though you spot the tracks of some.

"Elk... These here are wolf. And back behind us were hare prints in the snow. Normally you wouldn't find them all together without... well, a bloodbath. But they all seem to have been moving in the same direction." Marlene speculates.
"Something is calling them," Ortel states more definitively. "Our beasts here feel it too. Keep an eye on them as we get closer. It's this way - I can smell it."

It is coming to dusk, after a long day of bush bashing - and on an empty stomach. Your pack goat starts to look more appetizing... but you're not at that point, yet. But as the light of the sun is almost gone from the wood, and Marlene and Byjan get to lighting torches to see their way, your dark-adapted eyes catch sight of something ahead. It's a lucky glance - a parting of the warped trees allowing you to see a clear line through about a hundred yards of forest, and beyond that a bruise-blue radiance dancing off the massed texture of moving bone. This might or might not be what you're looking for - but there's something ahead, and it strikes you immediately as unnatural.

What remains is deciding how best to approach...

Spoiler: OOC:

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That's the question - you don't know what's over there except that there's a blue glow and bones. Do you want to try to Move Silently up, or send Marlene to try to scout, or have your whole crew rush in, weapons in hand - or some other thing?