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"Keep that dagger safe. It is something rarer than you can imagine. Men of old called the metal Black Mithral. It will see you through difficult times and serve you against the darkest of foes."

Spot DC 12

Leaving the bridge behind your band carries on the last leg of the journey. The goblin keeps to himself but still glances nervously to and fro. The fires of the camp blaze across on the plain while the dark trees of the Darkmoon seem to loom menacingly to the north and west. You espie a few shapes of loggers walking back and forth. Most would be preparing for the evening repast before retiring to their barracks. No signs of trouble can be seen.
As you near the site you can discern that the entrance of the camp is marked by a single rather crudely constructed wooden watchtower. A few men clad in hauberks and clutching spears stand (though somewhat innatentively) at guard.

Breggir looks up at Vlad his mouth hanging open in a stupefying and rather disgusting expression as he reveals his jagged teeth and blackened gums. He nods eager to please. "Yes helps big ones." His expression suddenly alters to sorrow "But if clan see me help you..." Drawing his stumpy finger across his throat. "I's do what you want. Breggir used to it..." He accepts Vlad's axe and assures loudly that always returns what he borrows.

Knowledge (history) or Craft (Metalsmithing) 10

14

Dorvarr

Ragnarr strides across to the far end of the bridge and the beckoning roading leading on to the last leg towards the logging camp. The wind blows in sudden gusts sending light flurries of snow down from the mountains. The winds bite giving even the hardiest a damp chill. The woods stretch on until in the distance they give way to an expanse of plain and meadows. Just discernable where the plains meet the dense forests of the Darkmoon vale the flickering lights of campfires can be seen. Aside from the screeching cries of ravens a calm prevails over these forlorn lands.
to confirm... is the wish to leave Breggir or keep him with you bound?

Breggir gazes back and forth as you decide his fate. A cold wind blows down from the black peaks beyond the Vale and dark clouds dim the waning sun.
Spot DC 12

The goblin's eyes widen as Ragnarr grunts. Breggir pleads, "Big one easy to find. Got one eye. Ugly fellow even for a big one. Said he'd put the north fire out. Us come from north woods. That's all I know! Trust Breggir.
He offers no resistance when binded save for pathetic whimpering.
The logging camp should be roughly another hour's march from the bridge.

Breggir trembles visibly as Rangarr glowers at him and looks anxiously at everyone else the goblin swallows nervously, "Yeah, I's knows big secret. Attack on the logging camp tonight. They's sneak in and torch barracks when big-ones asleep and shoot down anyone else. We's to take down bridge so no one escapes... But we here because mountains no safe for us. Things from down below prowling mountainsides. Strange ones with horrible laughs... Most of clan lost. Leader says we need to carve out our own land. Leader says he know other big ones that want you big ones dead. Chief's big friend says to take logging camp. Friend will give us signal to sneak in and kill. Torch everything. Burn it all. I's knew no good come off making bargains with big ones (well except you big ones, you big ones like Breggir, be nice to Breggir and let I's go away. Never come back. Deal?"
The goblin looks across at all of you in anticipation.

You all catch your breath warily eyeing the filthy brute. Dorvarr strides up to the group and glares at your new captive. As Vladimir parleys with the goblin the foul smelling wretch lifts his head cautiously and then pathetically nods at the young knight. The creature's jagged yellow teeth gnash together excitedly, "Oh yes I's helps big clanky one and friends. I's Breggir. I tell's you goblin secrets and let me go? I's never hurts big ones or their bridges again... I's go into forest never see's me again? I can tell you big secret."

Vlad grips his sword tightly, cursing under his breath as he watches the goblin flee into the woods, then turns to watch the other goblin cower, and shakes his head at Ragnarr.

"No, spare him. We can use this one."
He dismounts and points his sword at the goblin, warily nudging its axe away, then kneels to face the whimpering creature.
"What is your name, goblin? I will spare you if you swear to serve me. My name is Vladimir Kjelsbergsson, and I am a knight of Mosfell. My good companions will not harm you either, but you must serve me honestly."
Diplomacy check, unless something interrupts a minute's chattering, trying to calm the goblin down, otherwise at a -10 penalty... 26. Yahoo, something I can do right! (I was thinking about cheating, 'accidentally' rolling 1d9+20 instead of the other way round, but it worked nicely this way.)

Dorvarr and Hrafn still have opportunity for actions against the sole goblin

If no action is taken

Cursing, Ragnarr takes aim and fires another arrow at the fleeing goblin, but a sudden gust of wind blows it well off target and into the woods. The man-beast roars at the top of his lungs in frustration and seems ready to snap his bow in half. His eyes are wide with disbelief and anger, his chest heaves and falls quickly, and his nostrils flare as he watches his target escape. With great effort, he manages to restrain himself, shouldering his bow in disgust and kneeling to retrieve his axe before giving chase.

Attack roll: 5 + 3 + 1 = 9... The suckiness continues...

The escaping goblin, heading north, now dissapears from vision, lost amidst the shadowy trees of the Darkmoon Vale. The last remaining goblin seeing his companion leave, regards his adversaries with a stony expression as he tightly grips his axe handle...

In a flash he drops the weapon and curls into a fetal position and you make out in a whimpering, broken Common; "Spare me O Big Ones!" This does provide for AoOs for Vlad and Hrafn. (assuming Ragnarr stepped out of the way for his bow shots.)

To clarify for this round thus far:

Ragnarr
Goblins
Dorvarr*
Vladimir
Hrafn

Both Ragnarr and the goblins have gone. Dorvarr and down remaining. One goblin cornered on the bridge and one shrinking off in the distance through the woods on the far side.

Wyrd_Wiklund wrote:

One goblin on the bridge and the one sentry fleeing from the far side (now 40' away).

"Vlad - ride down that runner," cries Hrafn urgently. "He may bring more!"

Hrafn charges the goblin on the bridge eagerly, clean to sweep him from Vlad's path. Ill-fortune though, his stroke is hasty and goes astray.

Charge attack roll. (1d20+5=8, 2d6+3=15)

Hrafn's swing misses the last goblin on the bridge and seeing the fate of his partner the goblin bellows a suicidal war cry and swings his axe at the Hrafn. Attack 20+2=22 Confirm 10+2=12 Damage=4. The goblin's blade inscribes a deep gash across Hrafn's arm.

Vladimir kicks his steed in an attempt to steady the horse while both Dorvarr's and Ragnar's attempts to bring down the escaping goblin miss their mark and the creature bounds off deep into the woods at a full run.

Vlad cries out at the sudden pain of having a spear strike him in the shoulder, but knocks it away, then slashes at the goblin running from him.

Attack roll 25, Damage roll 7

[Edit for length of rambling]** spoiler omitted **
OK, then I do 7 damage and start a grapple (maybe my sword gets tangled in his armour or something).

(...waiting for my initiative order before I do anything else)

Ragnarr's lunge at the fleeing goblin is obstructed by the wooden beams of the bridge's superstructure and his blow is narrowly deflected.

Vladimir seizing the opportunity thrust his sword forward catching the goblin straight in the chest pinning him against the beam. The foul goblin flails in agony and then slumps dead still pinned to the railing.
One goblin on the bridge and the one sentry fleeing from the far side (now 40' away).

Attack: 13 + 4 +1 = 17; if that's sufficient to hit, the damage is 12 + 4 = 16!!! If that's enough to drop/cleave through the pipe-smoker and another worker is close enough, Ragnarr will attempt to attack again, but without success... 4 + 4 + 1 = 9...

Ragnarr catches the agile goblin splitting him from crotch to head. The creature gurgles and falls in a bloodied heap.

Another spear sails through the air from the far side of the bridge as the other goblin sentry throws one more spear at the mounted knight.
attack: 15 +2 = 17 damage: 3. The spear catches Vladimir in the arm. You catch sight of a small figure then moving speedily away down the road away from you.
The one goblin shouts a desparate war cry and swings at Ragnarr but misses his mark. The other worker trembling after the sight of his fallen leader and his near death by Ragnarr's cleaving swing takes a step back and leaps off the bridge to the rushing waters below.
This invites AoO from Ragnarr and Vladimir

Hrafn charges in to help brave Dorvarr; boldly wielding his forest-blessed cudgel. Moving behind the misformed goblin, he measures a mighty blow to its head!

Active spells: Bless, Shilellagh. Attack roll with club. Damage roll. (1d20+4=20, 2d6+3=10) Hrafn moves to flank the goblin and eliminate any cover, then attacks.

Clambering over the rocks Hrafn slams the wretched creature with a firm blow across its skull. The goblin is pitched downwards tumbling to the ground. It twitches then ceases motion.

Remaining are the pipe-smoking goblin and the two workers near Ragnarr and Vladimir. Also a single goblin sentry remains at the far side of the bridge. Unnerved by the demise of their comrades the goblins seemingly quail but the pipe-smoker barks in rage steadying his companions.

Huffing and puffing, Dorvarr hopes to close the gap to the goblins.

If I can get within melee range, I will, otherwise I'll toss a javelin

Rolls a 4, and misses with whichever attack it turns out he was doing...grumble

Exerting himself stout Dorvarr rushes onto the road and sees one of the goblins emerge from the rocks cast the spear the strikes Ragnarr. Bellowing a war cry Dorvarr closes upon the goblin and swings his hammer down but the blow glances off the rocks the goblin is using for cover.

So initiatives remaining are Vladimir 13, Hrafn 3

Ragnarr the Fatherless wrote:

To hit: 10 + 4 + 1 = 15; Damage: 9 + 4 = 13; assuming that's enough to hit and drop a goblin, Ragnarr's cleave feat would enable him to attack another: 1 + 4 + 1 = 6... miss...[/ooc]

This evidently doesn't correspond with Vladimir's plan... but given Ragnarr's alignment, approach to combat, and failed Hide/Move Silently checks, I hope my fellow players can forgive me for messing up the plan...

Ragnarr attacks the pipe-smoking goblin on the bridge. His swing is forceful but the old goblin reacts with surprising agility ducking the blow just before it would have taken his head clean off. He gnashes his teeth and snarls in defiance.

Goblin Initiative 14

The foul creatures shout in their guttural tones revealing their maws of jagged teeth. The pipe-smoking goblin adjacent to Vladimir draws his axe and swings in fury but the knight responds quickly and the blow glances off his shield.(attack 10)
The spear-wielding goblin crouching by the rocks spots the charging half-orc and lets out a ghoulish cry. He throws his spear (attack 19 dam=4) striking Ragnarr deep in his side.
A shout sounds from the far side of the bridge and a second goblin brandishing a spear emerges from behind the trees. He throws his spear at Vladimir but the spear veers wide (attack 5) and strikes the wooden railings.
The goblins underneath the bridge clamber up their ropes and jump onto the surface of the bridge.

Donderstaken is taking a double move, Vlad his his shield out in his left hand and is swinging his sword with his right hand, hollering loudly (so they're not flat-footed). As a free action, he picks out the toughest-looking goblin, and issues his Fighting Challenge (gives +1 morale bonus on attack and damage rolls, the attack bonus won't stack with bless but the damage is always handy).

"Your death approaches, goblin!" He thunders as he closes to sword range.
attack roll 22, damage roll 11... nice.

Donderstaken sprints down the road his hooves thundering onto the bridge. The two goblins turn as Vladimir bellows his challenge. The knight's sword swings true slashing down the companion of the pipe-smoking goblin. A torrent of blood is unleashed and the goblin hits the bridge in a lifeless heap. The other goblin drops his pipe from his mouth in shock. You hear a surprised cry of anger from behind you as a stunned goblin clad in chain and wielding a spear emerges from the outcropping of boulders now behind you.

Dorvarr hearing the sounds of battle bursts out from the trees and hurries along the edge of the ravine towards the bridge. (Putting you in striking distance of the spear-wielding goblin)
OK so regular initiative commences... I saw that one of my spoilers in a previous post wasn't tagged properly and I should have handled the trap differently in the posts. Lesson learned for the future.

We are still in a surprise round until Vladimir and Dorvarr's actions are resolved. Initiative starting for upcoming round:

Ragnarr 14
Goblins 14
Dorvarr 14
Vladimir 13
Hrafn 3

Hrafn moves forward after Ragnarr with no pretense or effort at stealth. He grips his club tightly ... deep forests aid us against these despoilers ... and it seems to shift and grow gnarled like the root of an ancient tree.

Moving to support Ragnar. Cast Shillelagh on club. Active spells: bless.

As you see the goblin gesticulating wildly and Ragnarr's agile sprint you move quickly along the ravine's edge club in hand. Moving at normal speed you should be able to close melee next round.

"Hrmph... least risk to me... I am not afraid of a few goblins... Thor as my witness, I could take them all myself..." Ragnarr creeps as stealthily as a bull towards the edge of the woods, to a spot overlooking the road where he might drop onto the unsuspecting goblins. He curses to himself as branches snap noisily underfoot... and, the element of surprise likely lost, prepares to launch himself into their midst with axe held high and a wicked gleam in his eye.

Hide: 5 + 1 = 6; Move Silently: 5 + 1 = 6... at least I'm consistent... If he is close enough to jump/attack as a standard action following his move to the edge of the woods, here are the relevant checks... Jump: 18 + 2 = 20. To hit: 10 + 4 + 1 = 15; Damage: 9 + 4 = 13; assuming that's enough to hit and drop a goblin, Ragnarr's cleave feat would enable him to attack another: 1 + 4 + 1 = 6... miss...

This evidently doesn't correspond with Vladimir's plan... but given Ragnarr's alignment, approach to combat, and failed Hide/Move Silently checks, I hope my fellow players can forgive me for messing up the plan...

Ragnarr moves hastily through the undergrowth. Perhaps too hastily.. However, the loud cracking snap of the branch does not arouse the attention of the goblins as the sound is drowned out by the rushing water below, rather, as Ragnarr springs up in surprise at the sound the pipe-smoking goblin raises a hand and points in the half-orc's direction. Grunting in frustration, Ragnarr sprints along the side of the ravine and with panther-like agility leaps into the air landing on the bridge. The barbarian brandishes his axe and grins menacingly at the goblins. You hear the pounding of hooves as your comrade comes charging down the road.

You can essentially close the distance but not make an attack this round. But you have a dramatic entrance!
Ragnarr:
Spot DC 12

Spot DC 18

Vladimir

Spot DC 14

"Thor favours the bold my friends. Let us to battle!"

Casts bless, booyah, +1's for all!

Dorvarr's stout words embolden your hearts and Vladimir wheels his horse about back in the direction of the road. The wolf trail leads further on to where the trees break and along the edge of the ravine. The three remaining in the woods edge along the ground closer to the end of the trees you can see the ravine twists slightly upriver and just past this bend lies the bridge spanning the creek. From your position near the edge of the treecover the bridge is roughly two hundred feet along a fairly clear path. The road leading onto the bridge on the near side of the creek is obscured from your vantage point by the trees and a large outcropping of boulders.

The bridge is of a stout wooden trestle build moored with shored pilings that drive into the rock of the river bed. Ropes run off the edge of the bridge and you can see two figures moving amidst the support beams hacking with axes. Two other shapes stand at the far side of the bridge out in the open. You spot the smoke of a pipe from one of them and the other you see occasionally shouting down at the two workers below. There is no sign of the remaining two.

Ragnarr, Dorvarr and Hrafn

Wyrd_Wiklund wrote:

Re updating I will try to post each day Mon-Fri in the evening (7-8ish) Pacific time. That said it may be a little later on Tues and Thurs once I get the drama rehearsals for the school I work at underway.

Good luck with the drama - that can eat time :-) FYI I'm posting from Auckland; I try to check threads either before or after work. If I'm late then it probably means work got crazy and I won't get to it for another few hours; so don't feel bad if you need to move the story on without me.

BTW I assume a knorr is a type of boat; is that right?

Yes a knorr is a type of boat. It shares the basic longship configuration but it is smaller than a warship. It's generally used by merchants.

Your band plunges into the woods moving with speed over the underbrush, weaving through the tangled branches, hopping over fallen logs, and up and over the sloping hills. You travel for sometime cutting across the landscape. You judge by the sun's descent an hour or so of daylight remains and as night approaches a chill sets in and you spot a few small snowflakes dropping amidst the pines.
Clambering down over a slight hill you pause as you can easily discern the sound of the rushing water of Wolf Creek. Ahead a few hundred feet the trees break at the edge of a steep ravine. You must be very near the bridge. At this distance you are still concealed by the woods but an approach to the ravine's edge may be detectable.

Listen DC 15

The rider restored by Hrafn's wise healing arts mounts his steed. He nods towards your band; "I thank all of you. I owe you my life I can only hope I will have the chance to repay you. I will send for help from the town with all the speed I can muster. Kya!" The man kicks his horse and charges off down the road back to town.

As the rider heads off in haste the band is left with two choices. Dorvarr has detected the path the wolves took through the forest. The wolves more than likely took a direct route from the bridge thus being able to cut off the rider at this point. The woods are not too dense and it should be feasible to navigate a steed through the visible forest.

Judging from the map the road should be only a half hour hard ride or an hour's walk to the bridge over Wolf Creek.

Vladimir Kjelsbergsson wrote:

Vlad feels his instincts of command kick in, overpowering the cold shock of adrenalin.

"Ragnarr, can you help me drag these spawn of Fenrir off the road? Hrafn, make sure that man can ride back to town and warn Egil. Once he's off, we'll ride on- we must take that bridge!"

Hrafn looks at Vlad for a long moment, and then turns to follow the very reasonable suggestions.

If the rider can make it back (Heal Check (1d20+9=15) to tell) then Hrafn gets him on his way. If not, then Hrafn feeds him goodberries from a small pouch until he's well enough to ride.

It's a 1st level spell gone, but at least we should have some goodberries left over...

Dorvarr inspects the ground by the side of the road and with his keen eyes picks up the wolves' trail running off through the woods in the direction of the creek.

The rider can be healed through mundane means but will take time to recover adequately before heading off on a journey. Assuming the use of goodberries he is reinvigorated and can depart to Raudurfoss immediately.

Dorvarr leaving the wounded logger hurls himself forward swinging his warhammer down upon the wounded creature. 10+4=14. damage=7+4.. The wolf's back is broken by the force of the hammer and it hits the ground with a thud.

A silence falls over the scene as you all recover your breath. Scanning about you see now other signs of pursuit.

I assumed that would be a reasonable action for Dorvarr who was at the bottom of the initiative order.

Ah geez... must be more tired than I thought. Sorry above description should read:

A silence falls over the scene as you all recover your breath. Scanning about you see no other signs of pursuit.
my bad...

Dorvarr leaving the wounded logger hurls himself forward swinging his warhammer down upon the wounded creature. 10+4=14. damage=7+4.. The wolf's back is broken by the force of the hammer and it hits the ground with a thud.

A silence falls over the scene as you all recover your breath. Scanning about you see now other signs of pursuit.

I assumed that would be a reasonable action for Dorvarr who was at the bottom of the initiative order.

Vlad lunges at the crazed beast, driving his sword into its body.

attack roll 20, damage roll 5

(Hoping that does the trick...)
Vlad, panting, wipes his sword off on the beast's fur, looking at Hrafn in confusion.
"What manner of beast were they? I've never seen wolves attack like this before!"

Your thrust bites deep into the beast's flesh and it howls in pain. Yet it still clings to life if just. The wolf's eyes dart about as it looks to escape.

Hrafn fires a stone from his sling that whips through the air with great force but glances off a tree a little high. Responding, the two wolves snarl and bound towards your party. One hound charges for Ragnarr who is point while the other hound bounds upwards towards Vladimir. The first hound leaps at the half-orc baring its fangs when reacting swiftly Ragnarr swings his axe downwards sundering the beast's skull. In a bloodied mess the lifeless carcass drops in front of his feet.
His swing carries through striking the other hound a staggering blow but the wolf in a maddened frenzy presses its attack. It attempts to bite the wary knight but just misses. It growls but you sense the animal's fear after seeing its mate dispatched with such ferocity.
Both wolves bear strange markings in either blood or paint across their backs. The hounds wear crude collars of bone around their necks.

Ragnarr grunts as he catches a glimpse of movement in the woods. "Wolves... the goblins can't be far... Thor wastes no time testing us..." The beast-man lumbers off fearlessly into the forest, in the direction of the wolves.

As Ragnarr grunts his warning the wolves sensing they have been detected emerge from hiding.

Initiative

Ragnarr 18
Hrafn 13
Vladimir 8
Wolves 6
Dorvarr 2

The road is perched on the edge of a fairly steep forested hill. The wolves lie fifty feet downhill amidst a group of trees. Characters running or charging downhill must make a DC 10 Balance check or fall prone. Mounted characters must make a DC 12 Ride check to navigate the slope. Tumble check DCs increase by 2.

I thought it would be simplest if I rolled initiatives. As this is our first combat we'll see how it goes. Feel free to make use of if/then statements if you feel its necessary. As for posting order feel free to post when you can rather than wait. I'll just try to resolve actions in initiatve order. Also as this is my first pbp so any comments, critiques are welcome (maybe link it to a post in the discussion thread so as not to clutter).

I can burn a cure minor if it'll stabalize him, but I'd rather not use any 1st level spells if I can avoid it.

"Thor's blessing eases the weariness of battle. Rest well friend. Shall we investigate these goblins?"

He is in a great deal of pain for dramatic effect but for simplicity's sake consider him stable as long he doesn't engage in any strenuos activity before a substantial period of rest.

Once Vlad has calmed the horse, Dorvarr moves up to investigate the man's wounds.

Heal check rolls 19

If the man is severely injured (as in needs more than a 19 heal check), Dorvarr will call on Thor's aid. Otherwise, we'll begun with some questions:

"Who are you and what has happened?"

You remove the poor wretch from his saddle. He appears as a young man and by his dress he is likely one of the loggers from the nearby camp. With a quick eye and skill you see that he is indeed alive if just. Much of his ribcage was broken by the spear but with some care you bind his wounds. The man rouses breathing in a shallow feeble breaths.

"The bridge, they've got the bridge. Goblin swine with wolves. They must've already killed the bridge guard... came out of nowhere as we were bringing timber and supplies from the camp. We gave those bastards hell but too many. If they get the bridge the camp is cut off..." his speech is broken by a bloody wheezing cough. "Not many of them maybe six left. But they might be getting reinforcements. Have to warn the camp."
His body is wracked by more painful wheezing coughs.

Hrafn and Ragnarr

"Hya!" Vlad kicks his heels into his pony's sides, galloping foward, then wheeling his steed in an effort to cut the horse off and make it halt.

Handle Animal check on the other horse (using stay trick), result 18 as a pair of move actions.
Assuming some sort of success:
Vlad examines the man quickly, trying to see if anything can be done for the wretch.

Grabbing the reins of the steed you calm the animal and it turns and halts.

Your band begins the journey overland to the logging camp and the edge of the Darkmoon Vale. The well travelled road takes you through a long stretch of farms and sheilings. Most of the farmers are nearing the end of the harvest though you know usually this time of year there is much more bustle and activity. Several farmsteads you see lie seemingly abandoned with only a few people here and there tending to their duties. The effects of the blackscour are obvious and even if your band is successful you know that will be a hard and sparse winter for many in Raudurfoss.

At midday you reach the edge of the farming properties at the foot of the bare rocky hills. Stopping for a quick lunch you survey the route ahead. The road begins a curving ascent. The cold gloom overcast remains persistent and judging by the clouds hanging over the hills your in store for a little rain or possibly even some snow.

Your ascent, whilst arduos for those on foot, is uneventful and an hour passes. As your party reaches the summit you have a formidable view of lands of the Darkmoon vale. The ridge descends downward into a sparse valley dotted with leaning jack pines and evergreens. Stretching beyond you can see the mist shrouded black forest of the vale that stands before the looming gray peak of Droskarfell. Past that as far as the eye can see is a vast expanse of rugged highland leading into the mountainous interior of the island. At the very edge of the horizon you discern a smoky haze possibly the fiery peak of the volcano Valka.

Afternoon wanes on as you navigate the descent into the valley. The road here is much narrow and winding as was near the town. The forest is thicker and the leaning trees obscure the wan sunlight.
Hrafn

Abrubtly, the hushed forest scene is broken by a desparate neighs of a horse that comes charging at lightning speed around the bend and up the road towards you. A man clad in leather jerkin and torn breeches rides the brown mare but the figure is slumped against the back of the horse's neck. A spear protrudes from his back. The horse seeing your party bucks wildly in panic.

It is a gloomy overcast morning. The night chill is beginning to fade but a light fog persists hanging over the outlying hills beyond town. As Dorvarr's medication and the fresh air relieves some of your pain from last night's revelry (or at least for Ragnarr and Vladimir) a young boy trots up to you.
He is a slight lad with a freckled face and dark hair. As he speaks you can see he is missing several teeth. "I was told by Gudrun to come here to relay a message. She has been summoned by Egil. There was an attack on one of the west shielings last night. Possibly goblins. Gudrun is helping Egil track their quarry through the hills. They rode away a little before dawn. She said to convey her apologies but the road to the logging camp lies north and said that Olaf should be able to help you.' With his message delivered the lad runs off to his morning work.

The logging camp road is a rutted muddy route that winds through the outlying farms before ascending the hills. Judging from Gudrun's map it then dips into a sparsely forested valley, crossing Wolf's Creek via a wooden trestle bridge before reaching the camp at the edge of the woods. As noted earlier the camp is just shy of a day's journey on foot.

In fact, this fair lass here-" he claps a hand on Gudrun's shoulder (perhaps a little too familarly...).

assuming Gudrun doesn't flip out and break his arm or something...

"Gudrun, tell him how to win a woman. My father once told me a tale, of how he escaped from a troll-mother by blowing in her ear. If my friend Ragnarr were to do that, do you think he would win the heart of the lady?"

As you clap your hand on the back of Gudrun's shoulder you feel her body go rigid and her eyes turn to regard you. She clearly feels uncomfortable but as you ask your question her serious expression falters. Her eyes look at you almost as if to say 'are you serious?' when suddenly she nearly falls over laughing. She tries to stop several times before she finally catches her breath. She replies, her tone slightly woozy from the mead; "My good Ragnarr I think your friend here may not be the best source of advice on wooing... You could try blowing in her ear but I don't think it would have the desired result." She laughs again briefly. "Honesty and brave deeds should be enough..." She pauses to look at Ragnarr, "And a bath would go a long way." Gudrud swigs down the last of her mead. "Well I think I will leave you two now. We ride at first light." Her last words are laid with a warning. Gudrud departs and as you see much of the crowd around the Alf has diminished or passed out in a corner.

I tell Gudrun, "Thanks for sharing your knowledge, the map will help us all. Do you know anything else about Uzimila -- it is an ill-omened name."

As mugs of mead are brought to the table, Gudrun takes a swig and replies, "It is an ill-omened name. Ulizmila was a mad witch-hermit that had lived in the vale previous even before Unn's kin came to settle these lands. She was a strange hag, a lover of riddles and worker of rune magics. Some say she communed with the darker spirits of the land particularly those of the winter nights. She never openly caused trouble but to those that saw her often suffered strange misfortunes thereafter. No one has seen her for years. She may not even be alive anymore. Nowadays her name is but used to frighten children perhaps she is indeed no more..."

"As for your question, Ragnarr if you like I can share the road with your company as far as the logging camp. After that our ways must part as I have a scouting party to guide to the west. The goblins are restless and some have been seen around the shielings in that area."
As Hrafn and Dorvarr depart for the night Gudrun raises her mug and bids you farewell.
She sits herself at your table next to Vladimir (possibly to put some distance between her and Ragnarr's aroma). She quenches her thirst with some gulps of mead and her grim demenaor fades as she laughs lustily as any other warrior. "You and your friends are an odd group. To your success!"

As the meeting is settled and the townsfolk bolstered by the outcome, Egil and most of his men take leave. The Earl's son thanks you for your valour but "I will be riding in the early morning as defenses for winter are prepared and Bolli's men prepare for the transport of the lumber. I will not forget this nor my promise of reward to you." He gives a final wary glance to Unn and takes his leave of the hall. Most of his men follow behind him including the maiden Ragnihild. As she passes by your table she leaves a wooden amulet of Mjolnir upon the table in front of Ragnarr. She quickly whispers to the half-orc; "May it keep you safe." She then quickly darts to follow Egil's train.
The crowd visibly relaxes upon their departure.

Unn recites a blessing to your group and entreats "Please if you can bring my sons home... If not give them a fitting burial." The wise-woman without further ado also departs.

The remaining crowd is quite energetic and the regular joviality and revelry returns to the Alf as farmers and traders arm-wrestle at tables, and an abundance of mead and ale are made available (even to those with a stagger). The cranberry wheat ale freshly brewed from the harvest is particularly savoury. Kjartan strides through the crowd his manner relaxed and his clenched jaw replaced with an easy if lopsided grin.

Bolli converses with several persons as many thirst for his tales of his far travels. You hear through the night from Bolli's lips fragmented accounts of raids upon Frankia, the decadent pleasures of the cities of the Inner Sea and narrow escapes from orc maurauders.
However, one man asks him of news from Westurmark and the merchant's expression turns grim; "I have not sojourned to Stromsund since last year. Since Sihtric's men run the markets they do not do business there honestly anymore. What I have heard from other traders though disturbs me. Sihtric's rule is increasingly brutal. Leif Brightaxe, nephew of the late king, and his followers attempted to free Thorvann's family. Leif and his men were found out and the heads now decorate the entrance to the harbour. Some say Caroloman and his cursed sorcery were used to find them out.
But that is not the worst of it, the usurper is assembling his forces. He has sent out messages to the homeland and to Albion. Mercaneries and ships will come to fight for him... There will be war in spring and Halfdeane will be hard put."

As he states these words many faces in the crowd fall in dismay. A moment or so later conversation continues as most try to put this disturbing news out of mind. The revelry continues well into the night. Ragnarr and Vladimir are introduced to many illustrious townsfolk (many of whose names are unlikely to be recalled). Gudrun remains aloof to most of the folk but eagerly swaps tales of the trail and colourful hunting anecdotes. She remains evasive of any talk of what she did before coming to Raudurfoss but her easy manner and appetite for drink cannot be denied.

The short red haired woman clad in leather armour approaches the gathering. She looks at your group and clears her throat; "I may be able to help you out if you truly seek the cure for this pestilence. My name is Gudrun I've done some trapping in the vale. There's a man by the name of Olaf who works at the logging camp near the edge of the woods. The men say he's seen where Uzimila lives. For my part I might know where the oldest trees grow in the woods... There's an old grove deep in the forest with the greatest Waleska trees I've ever seen. They must be very ancient." She takes out a piece of parchment and marks it on the map of the vale. "But be warned I've heard tale of some loggers that have tried to take wood from there. They never return. As for Droskarfell I have only tales of such a place. Olaf has been in this land for many winters he might know."

Sense Motive DC 15

Judging from the map the journey to the logging camp is just under a day. Another day through the forest to the grove and a third day to the foot of Droskarfell

A voice booms from the back of the hall as the well dressed merchant stands. Clearly impressed by your valour and Vladimir's stirring oration. "I would like to assist these brave souls. My name is Bolli son of Otar Hrankelsson, a merchant by trade hailing from Brattahlid. If you have need of provisions and equipment please but ask. It is the least I can do. By Tyr, I salute you men."

If you take up Bolli's offer his servants can provide you each with a cold weather outfit, winter blanket, 5 days trail rations. In addition, 2 50' lengths of hempen rope and a box of 6 pitons can be provided.

And with that, the stout man retires for the evening.
Oooo, can I have a bonus on Dvergar checks?

ah yeah, +4

Unn smiles in disdain at Egil and approaches your table. Without a word she examines your company. "It is well. A company of four. I believe the gods favour the number four. Now we should discuss further this undertaking." She leans in and speaks in hused tones;
"Frigga has revealed to me the cure for this pestilence. It needs three ingredients of which I do not have. First, is that of elderwood moss which grows on the oldest tree in the vale. Though I know not for certain where such a tree would be in the forest. Second, the herbal root known as Rat's Tail. A potent charm sometimes used in compulsions. Alas, the witch Ulizmila who lives in the vale may be your best hope to procure these. Last, is the mushroom known as Ironbloom. It is a strange mushroom that grows in dark places thick with metal. The tomes I possess indicated that it grew often in places frequented by the dvergar. When my grandfather, Thorkel came to settle these lands he told me of the ruins of a dvergar hall at the foot of the Droskar mountain. I can only pray that though the dvergar have left the Ironbloom may still grow. But, as tales say a great hound haunts the rocky slopes. If you can undertake this task and maybe even find the fate of my sons, my family will be eternally grateful."

As Unn finishes Egil waves his hands out and speaks aloud; "If you should succeed I promise that you may have your choice of my finest knorr, Wave-Stepper or 200 gold crowns each. All are hear to bear witness to my pact.'

Make a Knowledge (geography),(local), (nature) roll for each point

Ulizmila
Knowledge (geography) 16 or (local) 20

The Oldest Tree
Knowledge (geography) 20 or (nature) 24

Dvergar ruins
Knowledge (geography) 16 or (local) 20

Dvergar Trivia
Knowledge (history) 15 or local 20

Vlad smiles confidently, seeing the shaggy man and the mountain stand.

"Two bold companions! And yet... deaths come in threes. Are there any yet that wish to join us?" Vlad says, half in jest.
He looks at Egil, nods to him boldly, sword now lowered, willing him to understand the meaning of the glance.
This is how it is done, my friend. Whether I fall or nay, I die with courage. They must see your willingness. Join, and the people will see that you risk yourself for them, and they will follow you, to the ends of the earth and more.
[Diplomacy check on Egil and the crowd... 22]

The crowd admires the young warrior's bravado and you see some of the older farmers who once had gone a viking nod in agreement to your words.

Egil holds your gaze he nods in grudging admiration but shakes his head all the same. Diplomacy checks as a full round action are -10 normally but I let it slide as you easily could have taken more time in your inspiring call to arms.

The Earl's son stands and his cold voice rings clearly dispelling the murmurs;
"I am a warrior, a fighter I do not mince words or flatter. But I am an honest man and I will tell you the truth as I see it. Unn's kin when they held these lands had no trouble logging the woods and taking from the land... so why now are the Gods angry with us, wise-woman.' Egil strides to the fire opposite of Unn. He speaks his last words dripping with sarcasm. Unn stares down the prideful son. Egil pauses for a moment before turning to the crowd; "But Unn has even been a source of wisdom to our town and not to heed her words would be ... improper."
A man shouts out "Send a war-party to fetch the cure!"
Egil turns and you can see in the corner of his eye he watches Unn intently.
"In the stead of my father as hersir, I tell you this that is utter foolishness. The disease has weakened our defences and the goblins are gathering strength. My responsibility is to you and your property. We must hold our defence. A small group of men are more likely to go unnoticed in the vale than a war party which simply invites ambush."

Egil paces about the fire and looks upon the table of the four men and he eyes Vladmimir;

But I am not unmindful of the risks. For my part, those that wish to go forth on Unn's quest I will see to it they are well rewarded and if my father lives Thorolf is a generous man."

At last, he speaks slowly, in a deep, gravelly voice... "Me too... I will go..." He looks towards Ragnhild, across the hall, with a big grin on his face.

As Ragnarr announced his intentions from the corner of your eye you catch Ragnhild's look of astonishment and you think even of concern. She holds your gaze with a steady look but turns as Egil moves to stand...

Hey Wyrd Wiklund,

I made my few first few skill checks using actual d20s, rather than by linking up through Invisible Castle. Is that a problem? Rolling physical d20s is a rare treat for me, given how rarely I get to play in table top games. And if you have concerns about my honesty, feel free to get in touch with my other current PbP DMs (I'm in Mothman's Age of Darkness and Sean's Age of Worms, and was in Utak's Erian's Glen until the game ended a few days ago)... they can vouch for my honesty. I think I hold the record for crappy PbP rolls (you think that would make me want to forgo real dice in favour of cyber-rolling! ;-)... anyway, let me know what you think...

No worries it was really just a suggestion (helpful if you don't have dice handy). I'm a pretty trusting guy. If you always roll natural 20s I might say something but otherwise...

Re updating I will try to post each day Mon-Fri in the evening (7-8ish) Pacific time. That said it may be a little later on Tues and Thurs once I get the drama rehearsals for the school I work at underway.

As the four of you sit with replenished mugs, the far door opens admitting the figure of Unn. The murmur drops to nothing as the wise woman strides into the centre near the firepit.

She is clad in fine gray robes clasped by an elegantly crafted brooch. Her left hand brandishes a thick heavy-looking cudgel as a walking stick. Unn is aged but her blue steely eyes indicate an unwavering resolve.

"So, you come now at last. At the behesting of an old woman. I had hoped the young would show better judgement, and make the sacrifices to appease the gods, but only after many of our kin have passed on do you turn to the wisdom of your elders.

Know this I did not call this meeting for idle reasons. Since this pestilence has struck our town I have thought, meditated and prayed to the Gods to give me wisdom. Our Earl is struck down by this plague and I say it is the judgement of the gods!" Her voice cracks like thunder over the crowd. Egil's face contorts in rage but one of his advisers places a hand on his shoulder.

Unn turns looking over the faces of the crowds; "Aye it is judgement but not on the Earl alone. On all of us! The spirits of the Vale grow restless at our pillaging. The trees should not be touched and given to those that scheme their own greed and war on their own people. But the gods are merciful... I prayed to Frigga and she gave me a vision. We can save ourselves. There is a cure to the poison that lived in the north well. But it a perilous route for those that would take it. The way lies deep in the woods of the Darkmoon Vale and even to the peak of Droskar. The lands haunted by the beast."

Unn pauses and her gaze falls upon your table as she sees an unlikely gathering of men. She holds her stare for but a fraction of a moment before turning to Egil's crowd.
"I would not ask any of you to make such a journey but alas I have no choice. My sons... I sent my two boys into the wilds. They have not returned and I fear I will never see them again. Are there any that would follow in their path?"

Seeing a large number of dangerous looking men congregate near the beast-man on the fringes of the room, the stout man worries that trouble may be brewing. Breifly questioning the other merchants to see if they know any of the gathering brutes, Dorvarr flashes a gold coin and catches the eye of his favourite wench.

Bjarni, one of the men who runs the lumber camp gives you the lowdown on the great man-beast and the young well-dressed warrior.

As you flash the gold coin Thora comes with a plate of mugs and a sharp smile. "Always good to see you Master Thorshammer. You're an honest man be a dear and keep an eye out for trouble. Including yourself." She chuckles passing you the mugs and rushes off to the other patrons.

Recognising the trader from Brattahild, he nods, and they exchange a few words and a hand-clasp, before he passes to the front of the room and takes an eager position, waiting for the meeting to begin.

Bolli greets you warmly.

He scans the room to see if Ragnhild Hrafnsdottir might also be in the Alf... Spot: 7 + 2 = 9.

Ragnhild is indeed present. You see her and Egil exchange a word or two but the Earl's son is no mood to exchange pleasantries with a woman and dismisses her with a wave of the hand. She eyes him with exasperation and has a seat at the table crowded with Egil's men. The other warriors ignore her presence.