DM - Voice of the Voiceless |
Kitta and Ellisif assist you in the cleansing of the barrow. Kitta sees the risen draugr dragged back to their freshly turned graves and laid if not covered, then at least in the earth where they were first put down. The ax wielder does not seem overcome with too much emotion, but Ellisif is solemn as Gylfir lays to rest the revenant's prey.
After the barrow is left, Kitta goes to work on the earthen arch o'er the entrance - collapsing it so as to bar passage and trap what evil remains. You then set off at a steady jog towards the karvi and your fellow vikingr, Roluo keeping a rhythm with his voice to spur you onwards.
If I can get Con checks for the forced march? - results will impact on the timing of your arrival to the karvi...
Black Úlfarr |
Black Úlfarr struggles back to the karvi, weary and growing more so from his wounds. Having Surtr at his side and Roluo's tale helps him keep him moving, but he is as weary as he has ever been as he hustles across the tundra.
Con Check (Black Úlfarr) 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
Con Check (Surtr) 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
DM - Voice of the Voiceless |
The vikingr set their minds to their feet and in reasonably good time reach the karvi. Jorleif and Kitta struggle with the pace set, though Roluo and surprisingly Ellisif are able to shoulder some of their burden and stop their tiredness from slowing the group.
The bear skin has been mounted on the prow and meat brought aboard, but it looks as though they have only just begun the task of maneuvering the vessel off of the beaching and back into the waves. At the sound of your approach, all eyes turn towards you... especially those of the huscarls. As you draw nearer they see the blood and bounty both and a mixture of emotions begin to cross their faces.
Njáll moves a little forward of the others and holds a hand up in greeting. His face does not show too much emotion, but he does appear relieved to see you return.
Short pause to allow you to approach in whatever fashion you see fit... be it swaggering, nonchalant, harrowed, etc. Then I'll respond from the huscarl and crew's perspective.
Black Úlfarr |
Black Úlfarr straightens his back, but still weary from the battle and march, walks slowly to the karvi. Voice weak he calls, "Sorry for the delay, let me help." Eyes dark, he makes his way to the vessel to lend his strength to the task. At his side, Surtr bounds into the waves, ready to get back on the boat, eyes seeking out Hrónarr.
DM - Voice of the Voiceless |
Njáll gives a measured nod at your understated approach and starts to bellow once more, directing you to your places either aboard the karvi at the oars or pushing from below. Most of the other vikingr have grins the size of ice crevasses on their faces, though are themselves short of breath from their exertions. Soon enough though the karvi is back upon the water, and you all are back upon the karvi.
At that point Sámr's voice takes over the call once more and he begins to tell an ode to even out your oarstrokes. He sings a more lighthearted story of a young boy who continually sneaks away from his parents and clan to go a running on the tundra. There is little meaning to it, as the escapades the boy gets up to escalate with each verse. At the ending, as the sails are unfurled - the boy brings home a fair lass to marry straight away and soothe his parents anger to'ward him.
Seating plan is as before.
Torgeir Strømsvik |
With the lull in rowing Torgeir takes the opportunity to once again take a draught from his leather flask. Hissing at the spirt warms his throat and bones he offers it once again to Grómr with a nod;
"Hoi félagi - good to "sjá" you again."
The dvergr mirthless smiles at his joke, as Grómr sits on his "blind-side" towards his dead eye...
félagi = comrade, fellow
sjá = see
DM - Voice of the Voiceless |
Grómr accepts a swig of the brew with a smile, grimacing as the spirit worms it's way through his gullet. As he hands back the flask he gestures towards a spot on your neck where blod can be seen, concern on his face "You get betsla?"
betsla - bit
Gummi leans back in his seat once more, pipa in hand and looking to light. Looking over Gylfir and his lack of pleasure in coming back seemingly victorious, he asks in a steady almost paternal tone "Why the stern look Gylfir? Did you not come a viking for such times? If so, why the sorgligt hjärta?" His tone is not condescending or gruff, and the tinge of mist on his eyes suggests that he has felt as you do before.
sorgligt hjärta - sad heart
Roluo gets a tap on the shoulder soon after the ship is underway from Ellisif. As you turn, she smiles and offers you a slice of dried apple. "Thank you skald, if not for your ord we may not have made it back before they cast off." her face is flushed from exertion and tinged by tiredness, but you get a sense of serenity and satisfaction from her.
ord - words
Ingólfr gives Kjell a hearty slap on the back and beams a smile "You look like death man... a scar to impress the kvinnor when we get back to Bildt?"
kvinnor - women
Hrónarr looks first to Surtr when the vargr comes aboard, seeing the red in his coat and furrows in his brow. Unable to act until they had cleared shore and gone back to the sail, he soon turns to Úlfarr "Your beast is hurting... I've some grötomslag that may take the edge off... if you and he is willin?" looking over Black Úlfarr himself before adding "And some fer yourself if you're not above being tended with medicine meant for the fä?"
grötomslag - poultice
fä - beasts
At the bow of the crowded karvi, Jorleif has the tveeggat blessing of being at the feet of the huscarl. Sámr merely gives a sneer at the runa man, but Njáll looks to engage "So vikingr... did you find what you sought?"
tveeggat - double-edged
Jorleif Crestefalla |
Jorleif grins at Sámr then replies to Njáll, "Aye Njáll. We laid to rest one who would not stay dead, claimed his armor, and discovered this." Jorleif shows Njáll the stone with the rune on it. "Dagaz. Rune of the day and laying the dead to rest. I'll need some time to study it but then I should be able to use it to aid us."
Black Úlfarr |
"You'll find Surtr is better than he looks, but he'll appreciate the grötomslag nonetheless. Probably try to lick it off knowing him, but I'll make sure he knows its good for him. Fortunately, Ellisif has a gift for healing and was able to heal him after one of the skeletons got him. I hear he really showed his mettle against the revenant though. I went down from a stupid mistake, but Surtr dropped it to the ground to help Gylfir land the telling blow."
He looks down at the wound on his chest. "I'm certainly not too proud to take some of the grötomslag too. Thank you Hrónarr."
Gylfir Faegeancor |
Gylfir looks out over water and answers in a soft voice. "I nearly got them killed....I nearly got myself killed...I saw the signs...led them to the barrow...we put to rest a great evil, but to see such...to be exposed to that hatred of the living. How does one get over that? How do I close my eyes and not see those hollow glowing eyes?"
DM - Voice of the Voiceless |
Kjell:
Ingólfr snorts a chuckle before replying "Well, least ye're back without being broken... rowing's more difficult on my own."
Roluo:
Ellisif speaks quietly to you "You were not useless in battle... to even approach that thing is to do an act greater than many could manage. You should not be so unfair upon yourself."
Torgeir:
Dropping the issue of the wound, Grómr takes the blade and draws it from the sheath. He gives the hilt a firm squeeze and moves the blade about for balance before testing the edge on his forearm - easily drawing blod. "Aye, she's a fair one... why would you part with her though?"
Jorleif:
Njáll raises an eyebrow "Aid us with the runa you say? I'd be hoping it's not needed. I am glad that your quest did not leave us weakened... we will need all the blades we can muster when we reach Varisia."
Úlfarr:
Hrónarr leans forward to tend to the vargr regardless and gives a grudging nod when he finds there little to tend. "Feh, bloody witch words and such aren't to my liking. I'd sooner trust the hand of nature." He then gives your own wound a wet but warming smear of the ointment "She'll likely scar some, but that should stop the blood-shivers. Good to hear that your hund was stout and true..."
Gylfir:
Gummi regards your burdened soul with the steady and tired gaze of age. Puffing upon his pipa he replies "Time lad, naught but time. Even then you'll still feel it in your bones." eyes misting slightly with remembrance "Don't lose it though... to feel nothing brings ye closer to them..."
DM - Voice of the Voiceless |
Hrónarr nods "Aye, but ye all made it back in one piece... which bodes well fer future"
I've a visitor arriving tomorrow, so probably won't have the big plot advancement post up till Sunday / Monday - but you can always talk among yourselves or your other shipmates... or eat chocolate eggs ;) - up to you.
DM - Voice of the Voiceless |
The karvi sails onward at the beck and call of the wind, forging Southwards towards Varisia, blood and plunder. Days pass slowly and surely as your path remains bound by the waves around you. The bearskin totem on the prow does not smell as much as you would expect - as the huscarl salted it before it was hung.
Four days hence your path brings you near to a small island of mostly ice... but there is a longship beached upon one side. The longship is a small karvi, similar in size and cut to your own. It is still distant and difficult to make out fine details, and the fact it is beached make it difficult to see if it loaded or not.
Both of your huscarl are resting with their eye-level below the hull, so have not yet spotted the vessel.
Gylfir Faegeancor |
Perception -> 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (20) + 0 = 20
Out of the corner of his eye, Gylfir spies a boat seemingly run aground in the ice and a body lying beside it. He looks to the others. No one seems to have taken notice. Is this another trick? Am I to lead us off the path....again?
Gylfir digs an elbow into Gummi's ribs and nods over the rail toward the boat. "You see anything out there? Something that shouldn't be out there? I need to know you see it too."
Torgeir Strømsvik |
Fort Saves: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13 & 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Torgeir casts his baleful gaze to the fore;
Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
The dvergr scowls and looks to his oarmate...
"Karvi... beached and unmanned... Grómr... Your harðr auga vita anything ella?"
harðr = sharp
auga = eyes
vita = see, understand, know of
ella = else
Kjell Carlufsen |
Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 1
Kjell was practically dozing at the oars when the hue and cry goes up.
He peers towards the island.
I canna' see anythin', but I'll take your words for it!
He shakes his head and spits into the water as he doubles his efforts at the oar.
Black Úlfarr |
Hearing the commotion, Black Úlfarr tries to get a look. He runs his fingers across Surtr's head and ruffles his mane. "Well, would certainly be good to get off the ship for a bit and stretch those legs, wouldn't it Surtr?" He turns to Hrónarr, "Can you see it any better than me, Hrónarr? All I hear is a karvi."
DM - Voice of the Voiceless |
The huscarl are roused and exchange some hushed words before turning to regard the group. Njáll speaks "We make for closer... but stay wary." and Samr begins to bark orders to make adjustments to the sails that would bring your karvi on a closer approach - though still in the water.
In a few hands of minutes you draw nearer to the stricken vessel and can make out more details. The cut of the sails and trim suggests that it ran aground at full sail and uncontrolled. At this low angle you cannot see within the hold of the vessel, but the only body you can see is the one face down in the ice on the island. From this distance you cannot ken much of the dead one, apart from the fact he was stout and retains all of his limbs.
The wind is coming towards you from the stricken longboat and carries a sickly sweet smell upon it. Surtr grows wary and unsure at the scent, he is not fearful as he was at the barrow... but still there is unease at what the smell might portend.
At the stern of the vessel there are some crates stacked high, carrying a burned imprint that is difficult to make out at this distance.
The scent on the wind is partially that of decay.
Gylfir Faegeancor |
K. (Nature) -> 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26
Gylfir pulls in his chain and reattaches it to the Ancor. "It is a fell wind that blows off that ice. The body rots but no birds come to feed. Don't know any gulls that pass on a free meal."
Gylfir grabs the coin dangling at his throat and gives it a kiss for luck. Casts Shield