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Black Dow's Iobarian Saga (Inactive)

Game Master Black Dow

PFRPG pbp conversion of the classic UK 2 & 3 series The Sentinel & The Gauntlet aka "THE IOBARIAN SAGA"

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Male Dwarf Cleric of Cailean Caydean 3

Eying the pilfered ring, Kevkul burps a medu flavoured note and gives a short survey with an incantation for Detect Magic.


Muli notices that the tooth is indeed one of a brute... but more one he would find in the maw of a brute wolf than brute man...

As for the giant's purse - it cointains an assortment of pouches containing coins foreign to Muli. The copper coins depict a speared Northman; upon the silvers the familiar visage of an iss trow; the golds show great wolves and lastly several platinums show a crowned hag...

Copper: 14
Silver: 17
Gold: 47
Platinum (worth 10GP each): 6

Kevkul's medu keen eyes discern that the fur lined silver ring exudes an aura of necromatic magic... Further study suggests it is a Ring of The Hunter's Howl


Ring of the Hunter's Howl

Functions as the spell 1/day. CL: 4 (lasts 4 rounds)

With a single primal howl, you strike fear in your opponents. Until the end of the spell's duration, you treat those affected by it as if they were your favored enemy, gaining a +2 bonus on weapon attack and damage rolls against them, and a +2 bonus on Bluff, Knowledge, Perception, Sense Motive, and Survival checks against them. If an affected creature is already one of your favored enemies, it is shaken instead. This is a mind-affecting fear effect.

Male Human (Ulfen) Barbarian 3 (Invulnerable Rager archetype)

Seeing the brute fall, Ragnar lets the black rage ebb away and sets his jaw with a grim satisfaction. Leaving his purse and arms alone he unsheathes his dagger and takes a knee. To quell the guardsman's alarm he explains "Just need to áberan something he isn't ácorenlic of"

áberan - remove
ácorenlic - worthy

Taking hunks of the Irrisiner's beard and hair in hand he uses his knife to give the brute a close shave. Once the hair of his chin and his scalp are shed. The hair is delivered to the hearth for burning, leaving the Irrisiner shamed.

To Kevkul's call he grins wolfishly "Aye, though I'll settle for his beard, Muli can keep the foreceorfend"

foreceorfend - tooth

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Male Human Alchemist (Beastmorph) 3

Muli shakes his head in the negative. He places the large tooth on the table. "That is no tooth of a man. Muli would have to say a wulf. He bears a scent of one who lives with wolves and trow. He is likely in league with the iss trow that slew Quern, if his coin is any measure of his allegiance." He lets a few coins fall to the table, each clearly stamped with wolves, iss trow and crowned hag.

Muli turns to the Captain and holds up the very large tooth then points at the two bodies on the floor. "These two may need to be detained till the next waning of the moon, to ensure that neither does not grow another set of these teeth when the moon strikes full. It seems better to Muli that he be in a cage if that happens rather than ripping through this community. Muli and his companions come from Kustnir which is beset by strange savage attacks. And found the Hermit Quern slain by iss trow. It is time to be secure in these matters."

Gréata nods here approval of Ragnar's actions, and educates her guardsmen in the process;

"Norðléode hae their sylfre æriht. Sé andfeng o' a beard is bealubenn en dæledlíce!"

Several of the guard and many of the patrons stare at your group in awe...

...that turns to gasps of fear at Muli's counsel.

With an experienced candour, Gréata orders her men to clear the hus and "Tae sé carcærn with these áglæcan!"

As the unconcious Irresenr are dragged out, the room stays abuzz with fearful whispers of trow, monsters, devil wolves and worse...

Upon the hearth, Black Halvr's shorn beard and hair crackles and spits as it slowly, reluctantly burns...

norðléode = northern folk
sylfre = own
æriht = code,laws
andfeng = taking, seizing
bealubenn = mortal wound
dæledlíce = by itself
carcærn = jail, prison
áglæcan = wretches, miscreants

Male Human Alchemist (Beastmorph) 3

Muli tucks the tooth away again as he nods in approval of hauling off the Issens. "Muli did not mean to frighten, but these are dangerous times and those be dangerous men. Perhaps you can hold a council in the morning, but for now, Muli wishes to raise a drink to Ragnar's thick skull."

Male Human (Ulfen) Barbarian 3 (Invulnerable Rager archetype)

Ragnar grins at Muli's words his smile shows white teeth rimned with blood. He settles at a table heavily as his bones are weary and Liten Mun pads over to heel at his side. After an idle scratch of the hund's ears he looks to the serving girl "Medu, bread and cheese... Bludgeoning the inbred has given me a hunger"

To Muli he speaks more quietly "Aye, you may be right Muli... if it is the case, then perhaps we should see the bastards gutted afore we leave."

Turning to Luke "How long afore next full moon ranger?"

Pssst. Luke:

2 days hence on Toilday there will be a full moon

Male Human Ranger Hunter (Outlander)/4, HP: 31/31, AC: 16 , Saves: STR +3, DEX +6, Initiative: +4, Perception: +6

Two days from now...Toilday will be the next full moon, friend.

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Male Dwarf Cleric of Cailean Caydean 3

Kevkul's mead clouded mind looks on as he sits at the table, sniffing the burnt aroma of hair as he refills a horn and slow sips the mead savouring it.

He considers the bruises of the brawler but then decides to let the Northman savour his victory and show the aftermath with pride, rather than making it short lived with a gesture from the Spedig Wesa. After all, a good boisterous brawl is what a cleric of the drunkard god would order after a good jug of mead. Kevkul considers the rough state of the ale-hus and calls out for the barkeep.

Innswoman! The head of the trow would make a fine trophy adorning your walls, I would ámunan?


We just got here, and stirred up a brawl. Some information gathering would help learn the lay of the land. What's Petrik up to?

Male Human (Ulfen) Barbarian 3 (Invulnerable Rager archetype)

Grimly nodding at Luke's confirmation Ragnar adds "Aye... looks like being here for the mónaþfylen to see if it brings forth wælgeuga from the Irrisiner dogs in in order."

mónaþfylen - time of full moon
wælgeuga - wild beast

Under Gréata's stern gaze, the guard drag the prone Irresenr from the ale-hus.

At Muli's proclamation of murder most foul, and wolf-men who may feast on the community, many patrons draw breath and make signs of protection to the spirits and gods.

Turning to the group and patrons the guard serjeant announces;

"Gif these hunden be wulfas, then the mónaþfylen will ábær their andefen... If menn they are free, if wulfas... thenn their bælblæsan will warm us all..."

Gif = If
hunden = dogs
wulfen = wolves/devils/men
mónaþfylen = time of the full moon
ábær = bring to light
andefen = nature, capacity
bælblæsan = funeral fires/pyre

The tall warrior nods her thanks and follows the guardsmen and their brutish prisoners...

A momentary hush broken by the sound of the hearth being stoked and a fine spread of bread, cheese, dried meats and beverages being arrayed before the group.

The innkeep fills Kevkul's horn himself, pursing his lips as he broaches the dweorg's offer;

"The heid of an iss trow... Would make a handsome trophy right enough Bealdras Dweorg..."

bealdras = master, hero

Stuffing cheese and bread into his mouth, Petrik answers with perhaps the bluster and pride of youth;

"Minn láreów is named Kevkul Steelhide innkeep... he and his band are heroes and the saviours of Kustnir!"

Around the hall, whispers and mutterings of "Curse-nir more like" and "Quern dead!? Nei!" can be heard.


As mentioned you've been sitting watching from the other alcove in the ale-hus. Perhaps keeping a low profile with such brutish patrons as the Irrenser around... but now one of the newcomers, the wildman with the jotunn sized pack has spoken of Quern... and his murder by an iss trow... perhaps the same iss trow they slew?

Over to you... and welcome :)

Of the patrons none really stand out, the childen still huddle round Muli, drawn to his nature and potential of his pack containing more treasures.

Others pat and salute the Northmen and Kevkul on their drinking prowess, whilst several of patrons familar to Luke as store merchants prompt him for news of the realm and comment to him on Ragnar's brawling triumph...

Initiative +4, Perception +6, AC 18/14/14, Fort +2/Ref +8/Will +3, HP 22, Archaeologist Bard

Sitting alone in a small alcove of the ale-hus as far from the scuffle as possible, a cloaked figure crouches in the dark sipping on her horn of mead. The figure scoots further away as Ragnar beats the Irresenr senseless and barbarically cuts his beard off.

You are definitely not is Brevoy anymore Nadia. Be careful around these men.

It is not until the fight is concluded and she reaches for more mead that her hood falls back slightly to reveal her feminine facial features. Her pale skin reflects the fire light before she quickly pulls the hood back over her face. She remains quiet until the bearded wild man mentions Quern. At his name, she stands up and addresses the man in a language that awkwardly dances off of her bright red lips.

What tídung do you have of the æfterield ealdwita?

Her cloak opens slightly to reveal a well dressed, curvy lass. Her soft features and attire stick out in this harsh land. A necklace adorns her neck with an ornate symbol of a bird with a multicolored tail.

Knowledge Religion DC 10:
It is a holy symbol of Shelyn. She is the Goddess of true beauty, luck, and love.

tídung=news, tidings
æfterield=old, advanced in age

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Male Human Fighter 3) (HP: 35/35, AC: 17, Touch: 13

Skolrykk drops the cheese he has been stuffing in his mouth and looks over drunkenly. A fair lass! Welcome welcome welcome! I did not know him, but we slew trow--the trolls--the trow that were there and sent his bánfæt to the upgoduo. I am sorry. he says, frowning. You were gefríend?
Bread! Bread for me, this medu makes me hungry! he says, losing his train of thought.

bánfæt = body, corpse
upgoduo = gods above
gefríend = friends

Male Human Ranger Hunter (Outlander)/4, HP: 31/31, AC: 16 , Saves: STR +3, DEX +6, Initiative: +4, Perception: +6

Aye, you have all heard the frumspellung from others on how we slew the iss trow. There is news of Púca to the east near my home of Cisawella which we intend áscrútnaþ next.

frumspellung = original telling of a story
áscrútnaþ = to investigate, examine

Male Human Alchemist (Beastmorph) 3

Muli stops midway with a horn to his lips. He looks left....He looks right....The Lass be talking to Muli? the pretty lass at that, has Muli confused for another? But as she approached she seemed to be looking at Muli.

He puts down his horn, and scratches at his beard as he swallows hard. "Tídung of Quern?...Twell...nothing gut, Muli says. Quern was ..." Looking upon the young woman, who might be shocked by the news of his death, Muli decides to try not to give his true opinion of the old opinionated hermit or any of the details, " He a...Quaern that is...he is a...licgan, Muli is sorry to tell you. That head of an Istrow could tell you more if Ragnar hadn't geclyft it from its sculdors, as Quern's last words were likely only heard by it, as the dysig ealdcwén would talk his dolspræc as when he often æfþanca my bodere, Geir...." Muli pauses, coming to realize he might not be helping as he feared, so concludes quickly, very quickly "The wis æfterield ealdwita has finally restan." He nods affirmatively and quickly takes a big drink from his horn, pouring much into his beard.

Seeking to brighten the initial meeting he tacks on a, "Muli likes your bird torc."

licgan - fall over prostrate, dead
geclyft - cleft
sculdors - shoulders
dysig - foolish
ealdcwén - old crone
dolspræc - foolish speech
æfþanca - jealous insult
bodere - teacher
restan - lie down peacefully, undisturbed death ninja'd while at work trying to put this monster of a post together.

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Initiative +4, Perception +6, AC 18/14/14, Fort +2/Ref +8/Will +3, HP 22, Archaeologist Bard

Nadia smiles and nods at Skølrykk during his drunken greeting. As he continues, her expression turns to confusion. Dead?

Surely he is mistaken.

Muli interrupts her thought with confirmation of the sage's death. A look of sheer terror crosses Nadia's face. Huge tears begin to form in her eyes as she turns away from the fire's light so the men do not see her crying.

Get it together Nadia. You will be ok. Do not let these men see you cry. It is a sign of weakness among the Ulfen society.

She responds to Muli doing a fair job of controlling her emotions. Were there any gewrit? How far is his éôel?. Once again, her poor pronunciation of the Auld Iobarian dialect betrays her attempt to not be seen as a neophyte in this wild new country.

She remembers Muli's compliment and touches her charm. Andetnes kind beadurinc.

éôel=home, place of residence
beadurinc=soldier, warrior

Male Human (Ulfen) Barbarian 3 (Invulnerable Rager archetype)

Ragnar keeps to himself... mostly. He does interact with regularity to the platter of food before him and also to the hund at his side. He watches the newcomer warily and the bird necklace draws his eyes to narrow "Are you a seiðkona locbore? You have a wundorbéacen." tapping his neck where the lass' holy symbol lies.

To Luke's statement he chuckles "Aye, Skäggig has much to say to the puca."

seiðkona - witch
locbore - woman (who wears long hair)
wundorbéacen - strange sign

Initiative +4, Perception +6, AC 18/14/14, Fort +2/Ref +8/Will +3, HP 22, Archaeologist Bard

Nadia is shocked at the large Ulfen man's comments. A seiðkona? She stumbles on her words. No. Ittt isss just a héahgealdor?

She takes a step back fearful of the big man and trips on her stool almost falling to the ground.

héahgealdor=charm, jewelry

Male Human (Ulfen) Barbarian 3 (Invulnerable Rager archetype)

Ragnar grunts an assent of the woman's explanation though his eyes don't lose all of their suspicion. He looks to Liten Mun and finds his hund unbothered by the woman, so after a moment he shrugs and returns to his journey around the food afore him.... slipping another strip of jerky to his companion as he folds a wedge of cheese into a slice of dark rye bread.

Male Human Alchemist (Beastmorph) 3

Alright, Muli needs to go easy on Quern. The lass is near tears.

"Aye, there were letters and books." Muli descends headfirst into his pack. After some shuffling and wriggling, he emerges with a leather binder of loose papers and a notebook. But he does hold them out. "Muli sees you are upset. Was Quern æðelu, your accent is odd for one close to the ealdwita?

æðelu - family
ealdwita - sage

Initiative +4, Perception +6, AC 18/14/14, Fort +2/Ref +8/Will +3, HP 22, Archaeologist Bard

Nadia smiles at the kindness of the wild looking man. No, but he knew my true æðelu. I never met the ealdwita. He sent me an ærendbóc. I was suppose to meet him.

She takes the papers. Andetnes once again.

Feeling safer, she pulls back the hood on her cloak revealing her full face. As she sits and looks through the documents, her cloak opens and a long sword is now visable sheathed on her left hip.

andetnes=thanks, thank you

Male Human Alchemist (Beastmorph) 3

"Look through those, see if you can find why he called you. Look to find his thoughts on the Puca and any words on The Sentinel. Quern's words do not all agree with Muli. It would be good to have another look them over. Muli has other books to read."

As Muli delves into his pack, several of the children take the opportunity to touch some of the stuff creatures popping from its recesses... giggling as they futively tug on the tails and whiskers of Muli's menagerie.

Elsewhere a couple of the more well-to-do patrons approach Ragnar and Luke and toast them in Taldan Common;

"Well met heroes. Messrs Gillick and Gorse of the famous Gillick & Gorse Pannarius - purveyors of fine clothing and drapery... So you seek to free "Curse-nir" o' its troubles? Feh. Until the region is free of the Puca and dread threats we merchants will not trade further than here... Save the coin hungry dweorg of course..."

The fatter of the two merchants, a red faced man with huge mutton chops furtively elbows his companion, nodding unsubtley towards Kevkul...

"... No offence of course good Priest. Hail the spedig wesa, may he grant us all good luck and fine fortune... ahem"

As one the two men gingerly toast your company...

Male Human (Ulfen) Barbarian 3 (Invulnerable Rager archetype)

Ragnar measures the gentlemen, but does not invite them to sit with him. He responds "Aye, we're here to remove what ails Kustnir..." trying to measure them as to whether they are predatory or merely merchants.

Initiative +4, Perception +6, AC 18/14/14, Fort +2/Ref +8/Will +3, HP 22, Archaeologist Bard

Nadia looks up from the documents she is reading to listen to the large Ulfen man. I wonder what ailment has fallen upon this land. Is this curse what led to the death of the old sage?

The merchants look to one another and the fat man once again addresses the group;

"Heroes one and all! Excellent! Excellent! Perhaps we can interest you in some trade items?"

His rake-like companion nods feverishly;

"Indeed! Indeed! No reason not to look the part of heroes... whilst saving the realm eh? Its not like your Northern savages like those two brutes they dragged out..."

Again an elbow from mutton chops, and a nod towards Skolrykk, Ragnar and the newly arrived Nadia;

"...Quite. The North is a lovely place so I'm told... good folk... ahem... forgiving too... ahem..."

A slight commotion occurs behind the group as Petrik attempts to fend off the curious children from Muli's pack, but is overcome by the gaggle who spy too many tempting items of shiny, furry and ecentric persuasion...


At a quick glance Quern's letters talk little of your village or namesakes. However some mention is made of old Ulfen settlers along the banks of the Lake of Mists and Dreams...


You recognise the Merchants - oft suppliers to the trade post. Memory serves they drive a hard bargain but covet magical clothing...

Nadia 2:

In your short time in Gannawaer you've probably picked up at least one rumor of the region...:

1d20 ⇒ 16

You have heard from several of the ale-hus patrons that "should ye drink the water o' the Nirrus River on a full moon and it’ll send ye mad and make ye thirst for murder..."

Initiative +4, Perception +6, AC 18/14/14, Fort +2/Ref +8/Will +3, HP 22, Archaeologist Bard

Nadia turns to Muli. Seeing the children pilfer through his belongings brings a smile to her face. Holding up the document with the information about the Ulfen community, she asks, May I keep this one?

Then turning to address the large Ulfen barbarian she asks with her voice shaking a bit, What are your plans? Where do you go from here?

I have no other choice. These men may be the only hope I have for finding out about my past.

Male Human (Ulfen) Barbarian 3 (Invulnerable Rager archetype)

Ragnar raises a wary eyebrow at the merchant's words "What is it you sell?"

With a whip smile the rakish merchant continues;

"As we said great Jarl... we are purveyors of fine cloth and drapery... ... textiles and clothing to you my lord of the North..."

The mutton chopped oaf adds;

"Buy or trade..."

"Coin or goods..."

Meanwhile the post competition crowd has dwindled and save for the innkeep and the merchants, few Gánnáhwǽr natives now dally near your party.

Once again the cold night air cuts through the muggy warmth of the ale-hus as a man enters.

Tall and cloaked, the rugged newcomer nods at your company as he makes for the fire. Leaning a great longspear against the hearth, he warms his hands and shouts to the innkeep;

"A niht werod if you cwéme Willem! And gehwilc usser nífaran wish eh?"

"AI: A night mead if you please Willem! And whatever our newcomers wish eh?

Most of you will know this fighting man by repute or person as Gánnáhwǽr's captain of the guard (weardgeréfa)... one Garrick Emberspear

Male Dwarf Cleric of Cailean Caydean 3

Kevkul perks up, hearing the newcomer's offer of free drinks. Still seeing the night under a haze of medu induced semi-stupor. Kevkul calls for the innswoman.

I wants something else for the night, strong without any honey, nei?

Plonking himself next to the captain, the dwarf brings up idle conversation, with a simple,

Cayden cheers your generosity captain, does tonight's watch treat you well?

Male Human Ranger Hunter (Outlander)/4, HP: 31/31, AC: 16 , Saves: STR +3, DEX +6, Initiative: +4, Perception: +6

Luke approaches as well.

Aye, weardgeréfa, what news in Gánnáhwǽr tonight?

Male Human (Ulfen) Barbarian 3 (Invulnerable Rager archetype)

Ragnar snorts, hocks up a gobbet of phlegm and spits it onto the floor between him and the merchant "Unless ye've a skin of the white vargr as a hwítel... I'm guessing I'm nae for buying."

hwítel - blanket cloak

The arrival of the watch captain is noted, though his generosity is not taken up. If by chance their gazes lock Ragnar offers a nod and a raised drinking horn in acknowledgement.

Both merchants step hesitantly backwards,the rakish of the two addressing the Northman hesitantly;

"...ahem... no white vargr Lord... but we do have a Direwulf cloak..."

The fatter adds;

"And other garments befitting heroes... sale or trade..."

The tall captain smiles warmy at Luke and claps his shoulder;

"Falgren still lifiende eh?! Good you're here... Tídung? Some láþspell... Auld Quern has passed I hear... Some wilspell... twa brutish Irrensr ofercyme in cups and fists... Har!"

The fighter leaves his spear propped by the hearth and joins your company, small cup of spirits in hand, raised to a toast.

"The Feohtend!

lifiende = among the living
Tídung = tidings/news
láþspell = sad tidings
wilspell = good tidings
ofercyme =overcome, defeated
feohtend = fighters

Male Human Ranger Hunter (Outlander)/4, HP: 31/31, AC: 16 , Saves: STR +3, DEX +6, Initiative: +4, Perception: +6

Luke smiles at the merchants.

Well,céapmennu, do you have any clothing that may protect me or hide me from andsacan? I could certainly use a new cloak of such making.

céapmennu = merchants
andsacan - enemies

Male Dwarf Cleric of Cailean Caydean 3

Lifting a mead filled mug, Kevkul joins in the toast, echoing the captain's salute.

Male Human Alchemist (Beastmorph) 3

Muli comes over to the gaggle of merchants and the Northmen. "Aye, much to buy. Muli has items to trade as well and will be looking for pelts as well. Give Muli time to excavate within his pack and items and gold will be procured."

Need to work on that list of loot I thought about working on at one point.

EDIT: I take that back. BD has shamed us by keeping track of all that on the Resource Page.

Have indeed - well kept track, not shamed you lol

The weardgeréfa drains his mug, wipes the froth from his lips, then smiling looks to your group;

"Swá... what tídunga o' Berghof? O' Kustnir? O' the dúnland?"

swá = so
tídunga = tidings, news
dúnland = open country, wild land

Meanwhile when Muli & Luke address the merchants, their collective eyes light up and the move to peer at the treasures Muli, may unearth;

"Yes, yes... fair trade or fair coin we are (ahem) open to either..."

The rake smiles at Luke;

Of course maester woodsman... We do have a cloak of ermine, that has certain magick qualities... One that increases the wearer's "fæstrædnes" as your Iobarian say..."

fæstrædnes = fortitude, constancy

As he edges closer over Muli's shoulder the rotund merchant adds;

"...yours for 500gp woodsman... coin or trade..."

Male Human (Ulfen) Barbarian 3 (Invulnerable Rager archetype)

With a slight glance to the severed jotun head that Kevkul brought into the inn, Ragnar places the rune laded teeth of the eviscerated trow before him. Turning to the guardsman he replies "Before this one was gutted, he spake of dwarves held to be eaten... would you know their eard nearby?"

eard - native soil

The guard captain nods at Ragnar's question and taps his cup;

"Aye the dweorg cume fae Berghof... cíepan like... Ǽdensor Highmettle... a master meduwyrhta and trader o' ísengelóman... We've his casks to thank for the fine medu and bryðen!"

cíepan = merchants
meduwyrhta = brewer
ísengelóman = iron goods
bryðen = brewed drinks

Upon hearing the rival merchant being mentioned, the rakish trader breaks off negotiations with Luke to chime in;

"Rough lot that Highmettle and his caravan... you refined gentlefolk would do better to spend your coin here..."

Emberspear plays a tooth over his hands as he contemplates the Northman's words;

"... Ye forhtung them in deorf Vikingr? Old Ǽdensor is a tóh old stone, but even he took on extra feorhhyrde due tae Berghof's fell rumours... They thought to circle súþecg and avoid Puca or worse... Would ye go to them, fylstan their passage to Hálbriden? We cannae spare men... but we can spare mynet..."

forhtung = fear
deorf = trouble, danger
tóh = tough, tenacious
feorhhyrde = guard, protectors
súþecg = southern edge, route
fylstan = protect, aid
mynet = coin, money

The tall fighter taps the purse at his belt and raises his cup again with a questioning look.

Over to you gang - can everyone post something (big or sma) so I can gauge whose still up for adventure

Male Human (Ulfen) Barbarian 3 (Invulnerable Rager archetype)

Ragnar listens to Emberspear's words with a grimace before replying "Hmph, we have puca to butcher, wolves in the skin of men put this night to your jail and now dweorgs to see to. The blood of the North laid down in these lands ages ago has thinned too much... but fear not for you have a true Man of the North afore ye who'll put it right."

Ruminating on the words of the trow before he was eviscerated Ragnar asks "Know ye of a Kostchtchie? or a Elhervad - kezelt szarvasmarha in the tongue of the Jotnar - a wither handed runt? Of these the rune toothed one did speak before his breath was stolen."

I have PM'ed all just in case they are not checking the game thread for updates.

Initiative +4, Perception +6, AC 18/14/14, Fort +2/Ref +8/Will +3, HP 22, Archaeologist Bard

I am here and will post in character once the conversation gets going. I need to find a way into the group.

Male Dwarf Cleric of Cailean Caydean 3

Kevkul continues sipping his drink, listening to the merchants chatter and charms to part him of his gold.

Nothing I would need. Mayhaps I would trade them for any bryðen from warmer lands.

The dweorgs are wise folk. I would not worry too much as we have much more pressing matters here. Unless coin is the primary motivator or it happens to pass on by our way, we would hasten to our current goal.

Still here, sometimes the posts don't update and I am left in the dark.

The captain smiles grimly and claps a hand on Ragnar's shoulder;

"Aye... Berhof is lucky tae have you and your companions..."

The lean warrior reaches for his longspear and absent mindedly traces the runes etched into its steel as he mulls Ragnar's words;

"Sclingan-mund? Nei... but the Jotnar would call wðlnessa such as Puka "runts" nei? Could be the Puka mean tae forsæ auld Ǽdensor... And as for the Irrenser, should they ageótan their scinn - have faith that my wígár will beswæle their flesh and souls!"

sclingan-mund = withered hand
wðlnessa = pests, plague
forsæ = catch in an ambush
ageótan = shed, slip
wígár = deadly spear
beswæle = burn, scorch

@Kevkul - no worries man - was wondering if the boards had gone dead quiet of late... Good your still here wise dweorg :)

Male Dwarf Cleric of Cailean Caydean 3

Kevkul looks up at the captain as he voices his conclusions. His dwarven eyes catch the carved runes on the spear tip but his alcohol dampened brain refuses to make further notice of it.

Raising his mug, Kevkul adds on,

Gánnáhwǽr has to be thankful for a courageous captain as its walls.

He drinks his mug in salute.

But if there is a chance to bash in puca heads, then I would not stop myself from going. More so if it means the rescue of meduwyrhta and bryðen.

Initiative +4, Perception +6, AC 18/14/14, Fort +2/Ref +8/Will +3, HP 22, Archaeologist Bard

Nadia notices the runes on the spear.


Knowledge Local or Arcane?

Both are: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

Male Human Fighter 3) (HP: 35/35, AC: 17, Touch: 13

Skolrykk stretches and nods.
I am for it. Tomorrow, we hunt the hunters!


The runes are arcane in nature; Strong Evocational magicks...

The captain smiles broadly at Kevkul's acclaim and Skølrykk's oath;

"Aye... and there's goldæhta fiftigfealde tae each of you for gelástfuu the dweorg..."

goldæhta = wealth in gold
fiftigfealde = fiftyfold
gelástfuu = aiding

Initiative +4, Perception +6, AC 18/14/14, Fort +2/Ref +8/Will +3, HP 22, Archaeologist Bard

At the Captain's offer of gold, Nadia speaks up. Goldæhta fiftigfealde? You can count me in.. Nadia puts the document in her bag and stands up.

Maybe this is my chance to join the Ulfen Barbarian. I could definitely use the resources.

Garrick flashes a smile at the tall woman;

"Min ides... And should the Irresenr prove wælgeuga... twifealde hundred goldæhta shared bitwixt for stopping them... whence you return..."

ides = noble woman
wælgeuga = deadly walkers, beasts
twifealde = double

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