Thorvald was quiet listening intently to the snow cloaked surroundings of the burnt homestead. His breath sending puffs of steam into the night time air. Finally he breaks his silence.
"The book of the Hamaval says."
Cattle die
kinsmen die
all men are mortal.
Words of praise
will never perish
nor a noble name.Q
Be your friend's
true friend.
Return gift for gift.
Repay laughter
with laughter again
but betrayal with treachery.
"This has been the way of our people for thousands of years."
"We have been at war with Irrisen for over 1200 years. The books I have read say that empires and entire civilizations have risen, plateaued and crumbled, assimilated or were outright destroyed in that time."
"Still the Ulfen remain strong and unchanged. Our ways recognizable to our ancestors should they return today. I hold to many of the old ways."
"But, our old ways have meant a stalemate and over the past 1200 years our people have shrank like the cliffs of the ocean by waves or solid stone worn down over hundreds of years by the passage of thousands of feet."
"These southerners ways are strange. Many of them are offensive and have tested me greatly. But, Irrisen knows what to expect of us, they know what our people will do, how they will react. . . These southerners represent new ideas, new ways. New hope for the future survival of our people."
"Savol has travelled the outside world and collected them. He made many of them thanes and named Rutilux one of his lords. I believe Savol is right in this."
Thorvald speaks in formal Skald in the old prose.
"There is something most important I must tell you. Something so---"
The sound of someone sprinting towards them across the packed snow interrupts the smith as he turns to see the teenaged theif sprinting towards them calling out, "
Any signs of the girl? One of our captives has a possible culprit. And don't look at me like that! Of course I learned your language! The vowel sounds are weird but the grammar is easy."
Under his breath Thorvald breathes to Skallangbiorn, "<<<heeeeeeeeeeeeegh>>> Teenagers must be the same the world over. How did any of us reach manhood. Perhaps that is why the Hamaval prohibits the slaying of ones own children knowing how frustrating they can be."
Spells Prepared (CL 4):
Level 2 (2+1/day)
Bull’s Strength (used)
Spiritual Weapon (used)
Zone of Truth (DC 15 / Domain)
Level 1 (3+1/day)
Shield of Faith
Sanctuary
Murderous Command (used)
Divine Favor (Used / Turned to CLW)
Level 0 (4 at will)
Spark
Detect Magic
Guidance (+1 Attack / Saving / Skill)
Domains
Ferocity
3-Rage
6-Bull's Strength, Mass
Glory
1-Shield of Faith
2-Bless Weapon
2-Zone of Truth
Special Qualities
Aura
Cleric Channel Positive Energy 2d6 (6/6 per day) (DC 16 Sacred Conduit)
Spontaneous Casting
Touch of Glory (6/day)
You can cause your hand to shimmer with divine radiance, allowing you to touch a creature as a standard action and give it a bonus equal to your cleric level on a single Charisma-based skill check or Charisma ability check. This ability lasts for 1 hour or until the creature touched elects to apply the bonus to a roll. You can use this ability to grant the bonus a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Special Attacks
Ferocious Strike (+2) (6/6 per day)
Whenever you make a melee attack, you can designate that attack as a ferocious strike. If the attack hits, it deals additional damage equal to 1/2 your cleric level (minimum +1). You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
"I have the scars to prove my survival to adulthood." Skallangbiorn responds plainly. But the hint of a grin touches the lips beneath his beard. "With a mouth such as his...I'm sure he already has his share."
He considers the words spoken prior to the scout's arrival. It is something that had been on his mind since he'd been given the duty to find the Kodiakborne. The Blackravens saw a future in Savol, but did they truly know his methods? The use of the southerners in such a capacity, to Skallangbiorn, was an infection awaiting the rot and fester. The Ulfen needed to be harder, not weaker. The people outside these lands think "tolerance" and "acceptance" are interchangeable words.
People like Julian, they were the beginning of the infection. The allowance of slights and disrespect without punishment. Had the scout uttered such things among the Ravens, he would have been cut down. No hesitation.
But here in this mixed company, he was tolerated Then there is Rose and Rolf. In Trollheim, they would have been imprisoned and executed. But here, with their lives tolerated, they uncovered the existence of the Gaeas. Had they executed them, a demon would have been given power.
"You are a blacksmith, are you not? Consider the plague of iron when you consider a future for our people." The cleric looks to Julian then back to Thorvald. "All iron, no matter the lode, must be smelted, and purged of impurities. What happens to a blade when those impurities are not removed?"
Skallangbiorn continues the search, letting the question hang in the air. As for what Thorvald had been about to say, Skallangbiorn would let him bring it up again if he so chose.
"In my country it is not just socially unacceptable for a man to enter a woman or girls room unannounced and unsupervised, its grounds for a duel. Its a stain upon their honour."
"Montulo, you'll have to excuse us, but that's a particularly unfruitful line of discussion this evening. Please trust that we're doing our best to benefit everyone's interests here. We'll sort out unintended slights or faux pas after we've resolved the immediate crisis."
Laying a gentling hand on Zethyris's shoulder, Isham draws Rose's eyes to his own. His expression carefully reassuring, Isham says to Rose, "Zethyris is right. We need you to tell us what you know of this 'Smokie Joe' - not the full tale, though it mangles the storytelling, please tell us the short version." Isham exercises his best demeanor for steadying shaken marines on a battlefield, eliciting a concise report from someone startled awake, shaken, and obviously afrighted.
""You are a blacksmith, are you not? Consider the plague of iron when you consider a future for our people." The cleric looks to Julian then back to Thorvald. "All iron, no matter the lode, must be smelted, and purged of impurities. What happens to a blade when those impurities are not removed?"
"A cold forged iron blade with impurities will snap. Poor quality steel will chip. The strongest steel is made from pure materials, but the secret of steel is that it is not simply iron. It is an alloy made up of the pure iron base metal and small amounts of other metals. The same is true of the star metal Adamantium."
Thorvald displays his Dwarven forged star metal dagger, but returns it to his sheath before Julian gets close.
"Left alone the purest iron will rust, it is the trace metals worked in to it that allows it to stand the test of time and exposure to the elements. The fey have the metal Mitheral. It is an amazing metal much lighter than steel, ever gleaming and pure. But remember, the fey also hold few conclaves of strength outside our homeland. They did not change, the world moved on without them. We must bend like the willow in the storm or we will be like the oak, strong and unmoving before the wind shatters our trunk and casts us down."
Thorvald turns to regard Julian.
"If we had found her we would have made it known. We are checking for tracks and on the horses."
Skallangbiorn nods, his manner indicating he'd expected the answer. "Thus my conflict, Thorvald Black Shield. Is this Savol a skilled enough blacksmith? Or do we invite the breaking of our people at the hands of a novice artisan?"
The big cleric sighs again, uncertainty is as foreign an emotion to him as fear. "I am Skallangbiorn son of Heiflmein. I can trace the line of my blood to Heregrihm Skoningslos and his grand-sire Raseri the Iron Eye, Sea Reaver of the Broken Bay." He makes a small gesture to the helm he wears. Upon it are the ruinic etchings of his family's line. "Over 500 years of history leading back to the old ways when the Ulfen raged across the land and the seas, where mercy was as alien a word as surrender. Now, what will become of our lines? Is all that history behind us, captured in the runes and weathered away by time and wind?"
He shakes his head to indicate he didn't know. "I have much to learn of Gorum's will for me. So I will wait, like a sword in its scabbard, to be drawn only at his will, not mine. For mine is fallable."
"500 years ago some of our people raided and swarmed across the seas. The whole world feared seeing our sails. Today they still seek our blades to guard their royal lines. Imagine brother, what if that energy and blood had been focused against our true enemy to the east. Did the outside world seek to rescue us while we raided and destroyed it?"
"Hmm. There are days when I would see the rest of the world burn for its weakness. If not for my duty and loyalty to the Ravens, I would be in Bildt serving King Ingimundr to reclaim the seas of my fathers." He wraps a knuckle against his breastplate. "We stand the line against the Long Winter, brother. If the southerners wish to aid, if they have half the guts of Julian here, then let them come. More entries for the Butcher's Bill, and payment for a few more days free of the Witches."
"Just as those crusaders stand at the Worldwound, they a populated with the warriors of Iomedae, right? Moral and good, proudly serving their goddess to stem the tide of the demons there. Their image is not that of raiders and pillagers, but I see not the gathering forces of the south to aid them in their battle. No, I see fat and weak southerners willing to let others be their shield." Skall feels his hackles rising and breathes out his anger before continuing. "Whether we coddle them or we ravage and steal from them, it would matter not to our situation. I do not forsake your observation, Thorvald Black Shield, but I cannot agree with it."
"hey, she's looking at me like I'm the culprit. I was just trying to explain myself."
"Calm down you two. You probably wouldn't have heard of him. He's kinda a local folk tale. Parents used to scare young girls with him in hope of keeping them pure. Ha, didn't work on me. I don't remember the whole story but basically he's a mountain man, or a troll, or an ogre. The story changes a lot. Anyways, the story goes that he's attracted to young, virgin, girls that have impure or lustful thoughts and dreams. Basically it's like calling out to him or like seeing a campfire in the middle of the night or something. So he's drawn to these girls and he takes them away, right out from their beds, and makes them his wife or slave or something. But there's no way he could exist, otherwise he woulda grabbed me when I was a little girl"
Outside in the hard packed snow and the churned up dirt there are faint signs, barely visible of drag marks like something was pulled away from the house but there are no footprints or anything like that.
The trail seems to head of into the night in a vaguely north direction but its hard to follow.
"Eh, but these are strange tracks. Something has been drug, but without any limbs making marks in the snow. Something flying? A spirit or some creature of the fey? Perhaps a druid, but why would one take the girl? Especially with us present?"
Unless we offended the Church of Erastil or something.
"This my fault. I was resting uneasy. I should have insisted on storm shuttering the place and moving everyone to the common room or at least posting a guard at the open windows above. Stupid. Julian, Isham and Zethyris could all have easily have done the same to an enemy who left themselves so open."
"We will have to follow this now, to wait until morning would seal the girl to whatever fate. If we want any chance to get her back we need to set after her kidnapper."
"Julian, please go get Jediah and let the others know what we've found. We will need the Mountain and Zethyris's ability to see in the dark. Skallangbiorn has a good mark on the trail so I will ready the horses. I'd rather ride than walk to the ambush. No rest for the weary it seems."
"Calm down you two. You probably wouldn't have heard of him. He's kinda a local folk tale. Parents used to scare young girls with him in hope of keeping them pure. Ha, didn't work on me. I don't remember the whole story but basically he's a mountain man, or a troll, or an ogre. The story changes a lot. Anyways, the story goes that he's attracted to young, virgin, girls that have impure or lustful thoughts and dreams. Basically it's like calling out to him or like seeing a campfire in the middle of the night or something. So he's drawn to these girls and he takes them away, right out from their beds, and makes them his wife or slave or something. But there's no way he could exist, otherwise he woulda grabbed me when I was a little girl."
"Well, though a story may be based on truth it might be... elaborated on as time goes by. It might be a real creature, but it may have entirely different motivations from what was attributed to it."
Zethyris tilts his head quizzically and inquires, "What was the connection to spiced beer and tobacco?"
Spells Prepared (CL 4):
Level 2 (2+1/day)
Bull's Strength (used)
Spiritual Weapon (used)
Zone of Truth (DC 15 / Domain)
Level 1 (3+1/day)
Shield of Faith
Sanctuary
Murderous Command (used)
Divine Favor (Used / Turned to CLW)
Level 0 (4 at will)
Spark
Detect Magic
Guidance (+1 Attack / Saving / Skill)
Domains
Ferocity
3-Rage
6-Bull's Strength, Mass
Glory
1-Shield of Faith
2-Bless Weapon
2-Zone of Truth
Special Qualities
Aura
Cleric Channel Positive Energy 2d6 (6/6 per day) (DC 16 Sacred Conduit)
Spontaneous Casting
Touch of Glory (6/day)
You can cause your hand to shimmer with divine radiance, allowing you to touch a creature as a standard action and give it a bonus equal to your cleric level on a single Charisma-based skill check or Charisma ability check. This ability lasts for 1 hour or until the creature touched elects to apply the bonus to a roll. You can use this ability to grant the bonus a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Special Attacks
Ferocious Strike (+2) (6/6 per day)
Whenever you make a melee attack, you can designate that attack as a ferocious strike. If the attack hits, it deals additional damage equal to 1/2 your cleric level (minimum +1). You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
"Peace brother, it matters not how the blade cleared the scabbard. Steel is bared, and the Lord in Iron calls us to the field once more." Skallangbiorn waves his torch in the northern direction. " I can follow the trail. But we will need night eyes to continue."
"Julian, will you return to the house and send for the half-elf? We will have need of both ourscouts." He looks to both men. "Perhaps the rest should wait at the house and secure it from further intrusion?"
"His name is Zethyris. We'll be right back." Julian moves, but turns back for a moment. [b]"Ditt folk är inte den första nationen att uthärda krig eller förtryck. Många av oss här har känt det. Bestäm nu, Thorvald. Är dina kamrater olämpliga, är vi svaga? Eller är din nya vän här onåbara?" He then runs off.
"I have never complained we were Julian, nor did I ever call any of our fellowship unsuitable or weak."
"Young girls out of their beds, check. Trollish sort of monster, check. Drinks, smokes, chases lustful virgins, check. Dragged away for subjugated servitude, check."
"No stories about Smokie Joe's house or lair?"
Zethyris rushes back outside, hearing that tracks were found.
He pulls a torch out of his magic bag and lights it, his elven eyesight allowing him to see much farther than his fully human compatriots.
"Hmm. Drag marks you say, but with no footprints. Rose said there was a tale of an ogre, or giant man, or something, but that wouldn't explain how he avoids leaving footprints and gets through locked windows."
Zethyris follows the tracks a short ways to see if they change in form or direction.
Skallangbiorn watches Julian depart. "Does he not know a compliment was passed to him and the rest? Did I not say he and the others have twice the gumption of other southerners I've met?" The big cleric shakes his head. "To be sure, Thorvald, as I see you've adopted some of their thinking in order to better understand them, my words earlier were not to call into question this party's ability, skill or bravery. Nor do I call your observations wrong." In the distance, he can already hear Zethyris approaching and continues speaking with Thorvald. "I do not think you're wrong, but I cannot agree with them...just yet. Present comrades excluded, for they've proven themselves, I cannot see the benefit of losing our culture and identity to the morass that is the southlands."
He sets his gaze upon the trail. "At least not yet."
"Hmm. Drag marks you say, but with no footprints. Rose said there was a tale of an ogre, or giant man, or something, but that wouldn't explain how he avoids leaving footprints and gets through locked windows."
Survival: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28
Skallangbiorn glances upwards, wondering if they may be dealing with a flying demon. There had been the burned body yesterday and no sign of tracks.
...looking to the trees and sky above...ugh
...
"Hmm, a skilled woodsman could fashion snow shoes, line them with cured animal hide, that would leave little or no sign in snow such as this." The cleric shrugs as he assists and follows Zethyris. "As for breaking into the cabin, perhaps an accomplished thief."
"Well, though a story may be based on truth it might be... elaborated on as time goes by. It might be a real creature, but it may have entirely different motivations from what was attributed to it."
"... and sometimes a virgin-abducting troll is just a virgin-abducting troll," Ana mutters in response.
When Julian comes back, she is about to follow Zethyris outside to inspect the drag marks. But then she hesitates and asks:
"Rose, will the boy be safe? Or does smokey Joe in those stories have a brother who likes little boys?"
Finally outside, she tries to help the others to look for clues ...
... but probably doesn't find anything remarkable.
"Maybe Joe can fly?" she finally suggests.
"Do we follow the drag marks? Should we leave guards here?"
"As for breaking into the cabin, perhaps an accomplished thief."
"Perhaps... but it looked like it was locked from the inside. Difficult to do that after you already made your exit..." Zethyris considers for a moment. "I didn't examine the lock closely. Perhaps there is a clue there."
"Do we follow the drag marks? Should we leave guards here?"
"She hasn't been gone long, but our chances of finding her will rapidly diminish as time passes. All it would take is some snowfall to lose our only lead. On the other hand, Rolf is still unconscious, the boy is asleep in his bed, and Rose still has some sort of curse on her."
Zethyris sighs heavily, staring in the direction the tracks lead.
"We just saved these children from the trolls. Now one of them has been kidnapped, right from under our noses. I think they've suffered enough. I want to do all I can to help them." He turns to the others, face solemn. "I think we have to go after her. As soon as possible."
"I'm ready. Montulo, watch the boy. We'll be back."
"There was something in the story about that but I'd doubt its anything important, probably a drunk. I don't know how he supposedly gets in and gets them out, maybe he can walk through walls. Either way why don't you leave me and sleeping beauty here. I'll watch the boy, he'll be safe with me."
As she moves to sit up, "But maybe I could do it without these?" holding her hands up with the restraints.
"Ill stay and watch over the house, you just get the poor girl back before something happens."
The tracks are faint in the snow. The snow itself has turned hard and snaps and crunches under your feet. After everyone that's leaving gathers their horses and mounts up, excluding those doing the tracking who lead their horses, you all head off north I to the night. Following the drag mark for over a mile and a half the open ground is getting a bit rougher and you are getting close to woods.
'Why can we never try tracking during the day?'
"Ill stay and watch over the house, you just get the poor girl back before something happens."
"Keep Rolf tied up for now, just in case. We'll try to be back soon."
"Rutilux, would Herald be able to find us if we left him here in case of an emergency?"
Now that the adrenaline wore off, I'm realizing how late it is. It feels like ages since we fought those trolls, and even longer since I've slept.
Zethyris lets the better trackers follow the path, keeping an eye out in case of trouble.
Spells Prepared (CL 4):
Level 2 (2+1/day)
Bull's Strength (used)
Spiritual Weapon (used)
Zone of Truth (DC 15 / Domain)
Level 1 (3+1/day)
Shield of Faith
Sanctuary
Murderous Command (used)
Divine Favor (Used / Turned to CLW)
Level 0 (4 at will)
Spark
Detect Magic
Guidance (+1 Attack / Saving / Skill)
Domains
Ferocity
3-Rage
6-Bull's Strength, Mass
Glory
1-Shield of Faith
2-Bless Weapon
2-Zone of Truth
Special Qualities
Aura
Cleric Channel Positive Energy 2d6 (6/6 per day) (DC 16 Sacred Conduit)
Spontaneous Casting
Touch of Glory (6/day)
You can cause your hand to shimmer with divine radiance, allowing you to touch a creature as a standard action and give it a bonus equal to your cleric level on a single Charisma-based skill check or Charisma ability check. This ability lasts for 1 hour or until the creature touched elects to apply the bonus to a roll. You can use this ability to grant the bonus a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Special Attacks
Ferocious Strike (+2) (6/6 per day)
Whenever you make a melee attack, you can designate that attack as a ferocious strike. If the attack hits, it deals additional damage equal to 1/2 your cleric level (minimum +1). You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
...Casting Guidance...
Rutilux returned, having checked on the lad and then armored up, "The boy seems well... and deep asleep."
As she moves to sit up, "But maybe I could do it without these?" holding her hands up with the restraints.
Rutilux raises a brow, "Are you sure? What if you are taken again? You might be a threat to the very boy you are protecting, nevermind Montulo."
Rutilux, would Herald be able to find us if we left him here in case of an emergency?"
"I believe so, he's always had a gift for returning to me, thank the fae who granted him as a gift."
Assuming Rose is sure she can control herself for now, Ruttilux finally nods and says to Montulo, "Should trouble break out, send Herald off to me." He gestures to the bird, "If the bird leaves early, it is no doubt answering my call."
And with that, he is off to rescue the maiden lost.
Thorvald prepares his war horse and Shaggy Horse to come as a spare. He leads Ana's horse to her and stands ready to assist her with mounting.
"Do you have some of your power left? I worry that you won't be able to rest tonight, but I am glad that you will be by my side rather than here with Rose and Rolf. That is a bad situation. . . I hate to leave the boy alone, but I guess there is nothing for it. . . Did you cast detect magic on them? I am starting to get more and more suspicious as time god on and our foes become more exotic and fantastic. I have visions of them polymorphing like Rolf did. What if the children are really those waiting to steal Montulo and the others back? While some of my countrymen despise magic I see how we must embrace and use it if we are to survive."
Fort
"Don't worry: I didn't use all that many spells yesterday. Those acid-balls don't use up much of my energy. In fact its harder to repress them than to make them."
"I checked the girl's room: no traces of magic - but not the boy yet. That would indeed be a good plan. Wait here!"
While Thorvald finishes preparing the horses, Ana hurries back into the house, and casts Detect Magic at the boy, Montulo, and every room in the house.
If she doesn't detect any auras, she comes out again to give Thorvald the all-clear.
A short while later, the trail leads into in a small copse of trees and disappears. Zethyris, Skallagbiorn and Isham spend several minutes scouring the area for signs of exit to no avail but just when you are about to lose hope, Zethyris spots something moving in the distance.
Near the edge of the horizon is a low cart being pulled by some horned creatures, probably elk or moose, and moving away at an almost reckless speed considering the limit of the light provided by the stars.
"What in the blazes? Is that thing being pulled by moose or elk? . . . No matter, that has to be Homey Joe or whoever it is. Rutilux, I know you can outdistance us. I won't tell you to wait, but just remember not everyone will be able to keep up my friend. I should think that we should be able to close the gap, but then again I have never chased a two moose open sleigh over fields of snow either. Desna favors us. Lets get that poor girl back or exact punishment!"
Rutilux nods, and gives chase hoping to close the distance
Ana follows Rutilux' example, as good as she can.
Once within 140ft. of Joes Elk sleigh, she will take another look at it and then decide what spells to use.
Skallangbiorn sheathes his blade and mounts up on Shaggy Horse, gripping the reins and offering a prayer to Gorum as he sets out.
Ride
Isham reminds Rutilux to disable the wagon, and give us a chance to catch up. Then Isham concentrates on not falling off his horse - with less epic failure than usual.
Everyone rushes headlong after the sleigh and Rutilux outpaces everyone, rushing forward in hopes of buying time for everyone else to catch up despite the large lead that it has. As he swings around in front of the sleigh he sees a heavyset man dressed in furs covered in a thick blanket of cigar smoke that seems to blur and partially obscure his details and his body. Unfortunately he doesn't get much of a chance to examine the rider because the man cuts at the reins causing the two dark furred elk to veer in his direction slashing out with their antlers. Rutilux steers Sunfire out of their antlers range just barely as they barrel past him.
Again and again Rutilux and Sunfire try to take the lead and steer the elk back towards the others but each and every time the riders rough handling on the reins or a sharp snap of a whip keeps them on course. This back and forth continues as Rutilux moves back and forth testing each side.
With the elk unable to keep up their pace as they weave back and forth and sometimes cutting away abruptly your luck turns as the sleigh hits a rock half buried in the hard snow causing the sleigh to tip sideways and topple over. The elk continue to pull the overturned sleigh until their halter ropes snap freeing them to escape.
The man pulls himself up and out of his overturned sleigh just as the rest finally manage to catch up.
The man looks to be just over six feet tall and heavy set, with his bountiful waist held in check by a thick leather strap. Despite having lost his cigar during the crash the man still is covered head to toe in smoke. His left hand carries a large and obviously heavy tankard with the contents still splashing and sloshing around. In his right hand a decently dangerous looking one handed axe.
"Hold there, please. We have no wish to cross blades. Will you talk with us, that we may all grow wiser?"
Jediah dismounts.
Spells Prepared (CL 4):
Level 2 (2+1/day)
Bull’s Strength (used)
Spiritual Weapon (used)
Zone of Truth (DC 15 / Domain)
Level 1 (3+1/day)
Shield of Faith (used)
Sanctuary
Murderous Command (used)
Divine Favor (Used / Turned to CLW)
Level 0 (4 at will)
Spark
Detect Magic
Guidance (+1 Attack / Saving / Skill)
Domains
Ferocity
3-Rage
6-Bull's Strength, Mass
Glory
1-Shield of Faith
2-Bless Weapon
2-Zone of Truth
Special Qualities
Aura
Cleric Channel Positive Energy 2d6 (6/6 per day) (DC 16 Sacred Conduit)
Spontaneous Casting
Touch of Glory (6/day)
You can cause your hand to shimmer with divine radiance, allowing you to touch a creature as a standard action and give it a bonus equal to your cleric level on a single Charisma-based skill check or Charisma ability check. This ability lasts for 1 hour or until the creature touched elects to apply the bonus to a roll. You can use this ability to grant the bonus a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Special Attacks
Ferocious Strike (+2) (6/6 per day)
Whenever you make a melee attack, you can designate that attack as a ferocious strike. If the attack hits, it deals additional damage equal to 1/2 your cleric level (minimum +1). You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Skallangbiorn dismounts his horse, eyeing the rotund man in furs with a weather eye. Casting Shield of Faith