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Square Sails on the Horizon (Inactive)

Game Master Mark Sweetman

"Full sails ahead, ocean painted red when the soldiers of fortune hunt for pirates"
(Turisas - Hunting Pirates)


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Male Ulfen Bard (Skald)/1

K. Nature 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

"Poison then? Some beast perhaps?"

Heal 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (14) - 1 = 13

"Bah, that body is diseased, he died of the plague or worse. Keep your distance men!"


"Perhaps the entire ship? Should we even go near? Isn't disease even worse when we are all so close?"


Torgeir sits impassive, neither showing concern nor caution.


"I'm willing to go down and look, if need be"


Primordial Ooze

The huscarl regard the ship with a jaundiced eye and Njall makes a mark against evil "We should fire the ship and leave the body where it lies. Those aboard are beyond our help and it would a kindness from us to scour the flesh." You don't see any real opposition to Njall's view from the other vikingr aboard the karvi. You all have seen the plague at one point or another, and seen the blackened and bloated bodies being burned down with their homes.

If you would oppose then speak up against it.


Black Úlfarr regards Hrónarr and the others near him on the ship, "I'll not object. Might be a tale on that ship, but disease here would put a swift end to ours."


"Lets set the fire to it then and be on our way"


Male Ulfen Bard (Skald)/1

"Aye, nothing there is worth the plague, and they'll be plunder aplenty to the South."


Male Human (Ulfen) Magus (Myrmidarch) 1

Are there any identifiers on the boat? Does the prow look familiar to anyone?
Know. Local -> 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Pretty fitting. Gylfir grew up only knowing two boats in his small fjord.


Primordial Ooze

The vessel does not bear any overt marks that you recognise, so you are unsure of it's origin without close inspection.

The huscarl prepare a small fire and wrap the tips of a few quarrels in tar soaked cloth. Once lit the quarrels are shot into the sails and body of the stricken plague-ship, and your eyes linger long enough for the fire to take over and thick plumes of black smoke begin to rise from the wreckage.

The tack is altered and the karvi sails onwards, leaving the ill omened vessel behind you. Days and nights bleed together and weeks pass. The totem at the prow of your vessel grows ever leathered, though serves as as your guiding star in the drive Southwards and toward plunder and glory.

Fickle Wind of Fate:
1d100 ⇒ 26

From Broken Bay you travel South and East, across open waters towards and through the Ironbound Isles. You occasionally spy square sails passing by you, but never do you pause for more than a horn blast of greeting and a wave of welcome. Some are fat in the water and some are lean - though you pass them all by. The nearest you come to the land is at Orcmoot, where you spy the crude culture of the half-orcs dwelling there. Njall is standing tall almost begging for the bastard bred to sail out to face you, but his desire is not met by action.

You pass beyond the line of latitude that is the border between the harsh land of the North and the more fertile and temperate Southland. The weather grows warmer and you need discard your furs for the most part to avoid any overheating. You pass a mountainous isle to your East, and soon after see a cutter on the horizon, traveling in a direction that will bring it across your bow.

The huscarl have noticed it also, and seem to be weighing up on whether to seek engagement.

Knowledge Geography DC 15:
The isle to the East is Peridot Isle, and it is not known to house any large population base.

To the South East of you are Elvish lands.

Profession Sailor DC 14:
The cutter's size and position in the waves suggests that it is not a trade ship, and neither does it appear to bear any significant arms.

The sails and speed suggest it's a patrol vessel

Profession Sailor DC 18:
As above, and you can identify that the hull looks to be of elvish make.


Male Ulfen Bard (Skald)/1

Profession Sailor: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

"Elvish patrol ship. No plunder save that on the troops, and few weapons, but she'll be built for speed no doubt."

Roluo's eyes tighten as he takes in the details of the vessel.


Black Úlfarr enjoys the change in weather, but Surtr seems to take to it even more, moving about the ship and snuffling at all of the new smells in the air. He takes in a view of the cutter as it passes, listening to Roluo as he explains it's meaning. Much to learn about sailing, so I may become more useful here on the ship. "So Roluo, do you think she's spying on land or us?"


Male Ulfen Bard (Skald)/1

Roluo shakes his head.

"I don't recognize these lands, but by the cut of her sails I'd say us."


Two Handed Fighter/4; AC: 21; HP: 47/47; F: +6, R: +4, W: +1; Init: +3; Perc: +1

If it is a fight they are looking for, then they may have their hands full.


Torgeir balefully casts his eyes, both weal and woe, towards the vessel;

Profession: Sailor: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

"Osterkligr álfr? Feh."

The dvergr spits dismissively over the side...

ósterkligr = weak
álfr = elf


Primordial Ooze

The huscarl finish their discussion and turn to the group. Sámr speaks "They've a fighting cut and a fast ship... We're inclined to leave them pass unless they turn to face. Roluo's right, there would not be much for plunder on that boat... and they shouldn't pay us heed as we're not for the Elven lands." pausing a few moments to see the reaction. The three brothers seem to grumble a little, as they have been itching for a fight "We keep our tack and pass them by... unless they turn to face."

Njáll adds "Ready at the oars at any rate, we might be needing them" and turns back to the prow and the vigil of watching the elvish vessel.


Two Handed Fighter/4; AC: 21; HP: 47/47; F: +6, R: +4, W: +1; Init: +3; Perc: +1

Ahhh...live t'fight another day, eh?


Black Úlfarr returns to the oars, ready to row if commanded. he coaxes Surtr back to sit as well. "Be ready Surtr, if they turn, we may have a fight."


Primordial Ooze

Fickle Wind of Fate:
1d20 ⇒ 19

Despite the longings of some for battle, the elvish cutter tacks away from your karvi and begins to pull away. As it is faster in the water than your own vessel, it slowly fades into the distance. It would look as though no blood is to be spilled this day.


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Two Handed Fighter/4; AC: 21; HP: 47/47; F: +6, R: +4, W: +1; Init: +3; Perc: +1

Aye! Run ya cunnies!


Primordial Ooze

Kjell's insults fall on deaf ears as the elven vessel is far too away to hear them. Dejected and relieved the vikingr fall back into their benches and settle in for more of the long wait at sail. Samr hums a tune as the lapping of the waves form a backing drum beat of sorts.

Two weeks after the near encounter with the cutter you've continued the sail down the mountainous Varisian coast. Looming before you there is a break in the mountains and land both leading to a somewhat sheltered sea. The ocean has been reasonably bereft of companions, only the occasional shark sighting and seabirds to keep you company.

Knowledge (Geography) DC 12:
Within the break is the Varisian Gulf

As you move between and in the evening the huscarl tack South for landfall. Njall explains "We're low on water and could use a stretch. Hard up on the beach, then see where chance takes us." and sails are furled and arms put to oars to bring the karvi ashore. As you come nearer to shore you chance a look to see what might await. The beach you are making for is sandy, though is relatively narrow. Framed by hilly terrain on the West is a sheltered sweep of plains.

Survival DC 15:
There is likely to be some water catchment at the foot of the hills to refill the water barrels.

Perception DC 20:
In the distance you spy a faint smoke trail in the sky... chimneys?


Survival: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Torgeir eyes the closing coastline with his atypical stoic grimness. Muttering to his oarmate Grómr;

"What do your auga ken? Min are still clouded by the Aptrgangr..."

DMVoV:

How's our dvergr feeling after the bite and 2 weeks on the sea???


Male Ulfen Bard (Skald)/1

Survival: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

"I see nothing, this spot looks good for water though."


Male Human (Ulfen) Magus (Myrmidarch) 1

Gylfir sighs gratefully at the site of land. He was sure his ass had started to take the shape of the wooden bench.

Know. Geography -> 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

Survival -> 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12

Perception -> 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (20) + 0 = 20

"That gap. That gap must be Varisian Bay. I recognize it from my father's stories. That means there should be settlements from here on to the south. In fact, Look! there is some smoke trailing up."


Two Handed Fighter/4; AC: 21; HP: 47/47; F: +6, R: +4, W: +1; Init: +3; Perc: +1

Survival: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19
Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 19

Aye! There should be water at the foot o' those hills to refill.


Jorleif has spent all his spare moments the last few weeks studying his runes. His thoughts amd attention seem to still be deep within his studies.

Survival: 1d20 ⇒ 1

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Wow is all I can say


Survival 1d20 ⇒ 6
Perception 1d20 ⇒ 10

"I don't see it Gylfir and Kjell, but I'll take your word for it." He sits back down and sets his back to the oars until the karvi is safely beached.


Primordial Ooze

Torgeir:
Your wound gradually heals, but you can sense a wrongness that still pervades the area where the revenant's jaws closed down.

Jorleif:
Your studies of the rune have lent it's secrets to add to your own.
Add Dagaz to your runes known

The huscarl nod at the tidings of your sharp eyes and good head for the land. The karvi is beached upon land without any trouble as evening begins to fall. The group is split up: Njáll and the three brothers are sent with casks to gather water from the foot of the hills, while Sámr, Hrónarr, Ellisif, Grómr and Kitta remain with the karvi. Sámr explains "We're on utländsk mark now, and must be wary. You seven go and lay eyes on the source of the smoke. Come back if you've need of more stål, or it proves not worth our attention."

utländsk mark - foreign soil
stål - steel

Gummi joins you as you venture forth into the burgeoning night. He chews the inside of his cheek before saying "The smoke were away o'er there Gylfir? Looks a choice we can come upon from sea, straight or hill."

Lay of the land is basically undulating plains with foothills away to the West. The smoke looked like it was coming from a ways distant and in the midst of the plain-lands.
On the walk the light will fade to black, so you'll need a means of keeping your sight.


Two Handed Fighter/4; AC: 21; HP: 47/47; F: +6, R: +4, W: +1; Init: +3; Perc: +1

Kjell takes a position at the point with Torgeir again.

Anyone have a torch?


Primordial Ooze

The karvi has both torches and bullseye lanterns with oil, you can assume you took whatever you thought useful.


Torgeir rubs his shoulder and cracks his neck before heading on point, grumbling as he goes;

"Feh. Minn auga are kveykva by the hyrr in minn dvergr blod... Hirða
yer ljóss-ǫr-fœrar..."

The berserkr spits and trudges onward...

kveykva =lit
hyrr =fire
hirða = keep
ljóss = bright
ǫr = arrow
fœrar = bringer, presenter


Male Ulfen Bard (Skald)/1

Roluo shakes his head at the dvergr as he passes.

I'm not sure I even understood what he said.

"I can create light at will if necessary."


"Surtr will be able to see until it is totally dark. Let's use the bullseye lanterns so there is less chance of being seen. Or Roluo can cast his light on something that can be shaded or hidden if necessary."


Before heading to shore, Jorleif dons the ancient armor found int he cairn.

"I can aid Ruolo and provide light, if needed."


Two Handed Fighter/4; AC: 21; HP: 47/47; F: +6, R: +4, W: +1; Init: +3; Perc: +1

Thanks Ruolo and Jorleif, much needed. Torgeir has no use fer it, but we do not all have eyes of dvergr.


Upon hearing Kjell's words Torgeir grimly smiles back at the rest of the group, tapping his rune branded dead eye;

"Feh. More's the pity nei?"

He turns back to the trail and stalks onward...


Primordial Ooze

Which angle are you approaching the smoke trail?
From the coast, from the plains, or from the foothills?


Two Handed Fighter/4; AC: 21; HP: 47/47; F: +6, R: +4, W: +1; Init: +3; Perc: +1

I would assume the coast, if everyone is in agreement?


Male Ulfen Bard (Skald)/1

Coast sounds good.


Coast +1


And another vote for coast.


Coast works for me


Primordial Ooze

The group makes it's way along the coast towards where the smoketrail was spied as the darkness gradually settles in. Gummi falls in step without any fuss and follows your combined lead.

You travel for an hour or more before spying the first item of interest. Ahead of you on the shoreline is a small shack that has a fire burning within. The light it gives off it minimal, but enough to ward you to shield your lanterns and draw closer. The shack itself is small, barely 20ft by 15ft and does not look sturdy enough to withstand storms or rain sufficient to make it livable.

It looks to be a fisherman's shack and you spy the silhouette of a small dinghy beached on the sand...

Perception DC 12:
There looks to be but a single occupant in the shack itself.

Perception DC 16:
As above, and even in the dark you spy the telltale signs of a track leading inland from the shack.

Profession Sailor DC11:
The dinghy is not very seaworthy, good only for a few hundred feet from the shore at best.


Perception 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

"Looks like there is someone alone in the shack there."


Perception 1d20 ⇒ 2
"Really, I can't see a thing out here. Does it look like they're awake?"


Two Handed Fighter/4; AC: 21; HP: 47/47; F: +6, R: +4, W: +1; Init: +3; Perc: +1

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 10

I can't see a blasted thing! Torgeir, should we check it out?

Kjell starts to approach the shack.


Male Human (Ulfen) Magus (Myrmidarch) 1

Perception -> 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (4) + 0 = 4

Profession Sailor -> 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

As the light fades, Gylfir places his amber necklace on, but does not call on its light.

Stepping through the sand, Gylfir is careful to reel in his chain and leave none to drag noisily once they close on the structure. His eyes trying to pick up the smallest of details in the surrounding dunes and surf, he is surprised that they came upon the structure so quickly.


Male Ulfen Bard (Skald)/1

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Profession Sailor: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19

"That boats not fit for the oars, wouldn't last more than a few hundred feet in the water."

Roluo hefts his axe and follows his companions.


Primordial Ooze

The group draws closer to the shack and finds themselves not challenged. As you draw to within 30ft of the entrance you see that the light is being given by a wan lantern hung within the shack and you can hear a series of muffled *shick* *crack* *slurp* sounds emanating through the doorway. You can see into the dinghy and spy the crosshatch structure of a small crab trap in need to repair.

To the right and away from the shore you see the beginnings of a path marked with stones leading further inland.

You can see most of the interior, though the actual position of the 'person' is still shielded (you'd need a stealth to get close without discovery) from you.


Two Handed Fighter/4; AC: 21; HP: 47/47; F: +6, R: +4, W: +1; Init: +3; Perc: +1

Stealth? Ha, ha, ha

Hail the hut!

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