Jorleif keeps his eyes open for trouble and will be ready to call some mist to obscure their presence in case they need some cover.
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Not sure what makes my stomach flutter more - prospect of a fine draught, a maiden's ass served up for takin', or the minutes before battle!
Gylfir quietly reels in his chain from the water, not wanting it to catch any light off the moon. He affixes it back to his leg, and thinks on anything his father might have said to prepare for such moments.
There is little sound on the water, merely the even cadence of oars slipping into and out of the sea. No beat is struck, though you know enough of each other now to keep your rhythm clean. Salted by the sea and having spilt blood at each other's side you are more than merely Northman today. Your ancestral blood begins a slow boil in your gut, heat gradually building and building.
Ahead now the warm glow of torches can be seen among the buildings of the town. Occasionally a fickle gust of wind will carry a sound of the city to you. A braying laugh, the rumble of goods being moved, the unhindered scream of coitus completed. They know not waits within the night... with blade and axe. Your mouth fills with the sanguine tang of blod, it's aroma filling your nostrils and sharpening your senses. Your fellow shield brothers have their weapons ready. Gromr and his thin blades, Kitta's axes, Gummi's hacking sword, the brutal bearded axes of the huscarl.
On the bow, Torgeir stands erect as a figure of stone - gazing into the night. Even before him the head and pelt of the isbjorn sit dried upon the karvi's wood. The gruesome visage of the bear strikes for the town as an arrow from the bow - the karvi it's shaft and you are about to become the barbs that will rend flesh as it ploughs through flimsy armor and into the settlement's heart. Now is the time, the hour of your arrival to manhood...
You are no longer Northmen, nay - you are what every Ulfen aspires to and what casts fear and doubt into the heart of the weak skinned southerners... you are
The karvi slides closer to the shore and the huscarl speak for the first time "Still årorna" and one by one the oars slide from the water and thunk back to their stowage on the karvi. Blades are drawn and your ship continues it's silent glide until it beaches on a sand bar near to the shore. You are close and the water is not deep...
Karvi Stealth: Town Perception:
No sounds of alarm are raised by the town yet - it would seem the sound of your beaching was not noticed. The flickering flames you saw earlier are still ahead of you, within the town - though you cannot see anything around them yet...
:
Keeping station Torgeir turns his thick neck and hisses to the assembled vikingr, pointing with his ax to what his eyes have ken;
"I vita heimili-bruni... They may still yet be vaka..."
With that the dvergr readies his ax and shield, easily riding the impact as the karvi beaches, then lowers himself into the water, surging through the shallows;
Perception:
Acrobatics (take 10) = 10
Kjell slips over the side of ethe karvi and wades towards shore behind Torgeir with his Greataxe held in front of him.
The time has come, and I can taste the blod of the weak Southeners!
Roluo slips from the boat, axe at the ready.
Surtr lets out a soft whine as he smells the blood of the isbjorn. Black Úlfarr lays a hand against the scruff of his neck, not knowing what the wolf has found, but ready in the night.
Wolf and man slip from the boat, Úlfarr readying his flail in hand. At his side, Surtr sniffs the night air, head turning side to side.
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Jorleif walks on the water beside the boat, small discs of ice forming beneath his feet. Once they get close to shore, Jorleif signals them to put away the oars a little earlier than normal and guides the boats in by hand.
Jorleif isn't sure what the blood might mean, but he takes it as a positive sign. He pulls out the bow and makes sure he is ready, and will keep an eye out for any lookout in case he needs to call the mist and fog to cover their advance. (He'll tell Torgeir as well in case his eyes sees one first)
Gylfir makes his way to the prow and then the surf. He brings the coin dangling at his throat to his lips for a kiss of luck. Well Da. Let's find out if I am the son you thought you raised.
He peers into the distance trying to spot the spire again, That is where the best gold will be. Not spotting it, he sticks close as he makes his way ashore with his comrades.
As the karvi beaches in the sand, most of the other vikingr keep their footing - though Hronarr and Gummi stumble and are held up momentarily. The huscarl launch into the water with bearded ax held crosswise and before them. The brothers stick together, while Kitta and Ellisif keep to the karvi a moment - allowing the others some room before they follow. Gromr launches lithely over the side of the vessel and strikes out far to the side with long knives held in a backhand grip.
As Torgeir and Jorleif lead the way, they draw nearer to the line of settlement. Torgeir can see within and observes no challenge in sight, though his gaze is blocked by the buildings. The torches flicker just beyond the nearest houses and with you should get a good look by advancing further.
You also feel your nostrils flare and your thoughts grow more heated and direct. Unconsciously you find yourself baring your teeth and almost growling.
Jorleif uses the ambient light for now, his enhances vision better than most men. Not seeing much right now, but he knows once they get closer to the town he will.
Perception:
Kjell moves to the front as near to Torgeir as he can.
He whispers,
Lead me to the slaughter with your seeing eyes.
Roluo whispers to the others.
"Tavern to the North East, spire is to the North West. There's some hammering to the North past town."
Black Úlfarr whispers, "I'll take your word for it. Its too dark out here for me tonight. Do we want to light torches now? Or count on light when we get to the buildings?"
Black Úlfarr feels the bestial feeling coming over him and thinking of his family, tries to fight it off.
Cursing silently, he succumbs to its effect.
Gylfir hears the din from the Tavern, but will have to rely on Roluo's description for the rest.
Splashing ashore, he feels the call for upon him. He gives the Ancor a shake in his hand, but it does not ward him from this effect. This is was Da must have felt.
He retightens his grip on his weapon, and looks forward to mixing it up with the locals.
Torgeir edges forward, eyes both dead and living scrutinising their nearing prize:
:
Giving in to the inner beast willingly, the berserkr grimly smiles
"Spire to the Nordvestr may have feitr coffers from these ósnjallr god uggar suðr-maðr chattel... We could bar and svíða the tavern with those within... Their pyre will be our sigr fire nei?"
Kjell nods in assent at Torgeir's words...
Aye, the Spire then.
PS - can I retconn Torgeir's departure to include him unclipping his fur cloak before disembarking... as he does so the others can catch a glimpse that his good eye is starting to glow, and steam rises from his shoulders as the dvergr's inner fire ignites...
The bestial feeling takes root within you, strengthening your heart and arm for what lies ahead. Your weapon grows light in your hand and you are filled with an urge to rush forward headlong into combat. The heavy breathing of your companions behind you prove that they also have succumbed.
The group stalks forward once more and Torgeir and Jorlief reach the edge of the village proper. The dvergr wraps to the house's West while Jorleif goes to the Eastern side - giving the group a better means of seeing within.
Torgeir can see the church spire more clearly now as well as the stone building at it's foot. Flickering torchlight can be seen playing against the raised windows from within, a portent that it is not empty.
Jorleif gazes across a gap in the houses to the tavern that you heard earlier. You would still be in darkness to them, but the wooden building has some torches out front as well as within. Jorleif spies a couple of men and a small girl child out front talking, as well as another man to the side of the tavern seemingly leaning against it.
The streets of the village are earthen and bear no major ruts that would indicate wagon passage. The road is lit by staggered torches near to you that disappear to your flanks. To your side as well as across the road are further houses.
The remainder of the vikingr (bar Gromr who chose his own path) move up behind you in a staggered column.
Kjell advances to Torgeir's position and the church.
Perception:
Torgeir now bear chested, skulks towards the unsuspecting town... steam slowly rises from his block like shoulders and a spark ignites in his good eye - causing it to glow in the gloom like a fledgling ember...
Gromr troða his own gata... I like that in him. Will likely get him drepar mind...
The dvergr smiles grimly at his thought and the dinner table before the assembled vikingr...
Between biting at his shield rim, the beserkr speaks in a hushed, harsh tone;
"Mál tae get blóðugr boys! Hǫlðr, kvennalið or barn, skera them all down like a hveitiakr!"
Roluo, unsure of where he is and blinded by the bear spirit, moves with the group, axe in hand.
Did he say women and children? I can't even understand him, I think that's what he said. I'm not going to kill children.
Gylfir closes the distance to the first row of houses. Upon hearing Torgier's challange, he forced to look again at the Dwarf. He can feel the trill of the coming battle, but the woman and children? His lust for battle is not telling him this.
Trying to avoid a massacre, not their intended goal, Or who will be here next time we beach on these shores for more gold. "Friend Dwarf. With your skill, seek out the men and warriors to feed your axe. Leave the less challenging women and children for those less skilled as you."
Gylfir can't tell if the dwarf even hears him at this point...he seems crazed.
Torgeir turns toward his fellows, with a hard look in his good eye;
"Feh. When you drepa a hǫlðr, and leave a sonr, you sauma seeds of hefnd... The eik they grow is harðr... Mark min orðr..."
The dvergr shrugs, not waiting for responses and moves swiftly towards the kirk as he begins to chew on a blod-red herb...
Kjell stands next to Torgeir.
Aye, heed his words...we shall leave none alive.
Torgeir and Kjell begin to stalk forward towards the church, and some of the vikingr begin to follow the dvergr.
The huscarls tend to the Eastern side of the house and seem to be making for the tavern.
Jorleif makes for the houses, blood rushing to his head
Roluo heads towards the tavern.
Less chance of children that way.
Gylfir still determined to to get in on slaughter, heads for the spire.
As the group stalks forward, splitting up to their various tasks and moving apart. As the first of you step beyond the shielding protection of the houses you hear a blood curdling scream sound from your left that is cut off halfway through ending in a fading gurgle... The men outside the tavern's heads snap up at the sound and the sound of general carousing ceases.
Vikingr: : Villagers:
The men you can see at the tavern react to the scream quickly. Those outside moving within the tavern and you can hear raised voices and commotion within the tavern.
"Forward brothers!"
Roluo crosses the street to intercept any moving from the tavern to the church.
:
:
Unaware or uncaring of the noise or sights around him, Torgeir begins a light jog towards the spire. When the first screams sound he grins maliciously and kisses his ax blade before breaking into a full sprint at their target;
Perception:
Kjell brandishes his Greataxe, spits and lopes off next to Torgeir, easily keeping pace with his dwarven companion's shorter strides.
Gylfir breaks into a sprint and finds himself keeping up with Kjell as they pass the lumbering dwarf. The clatter of his chain no longer needing to be silenced. <clink>, <clink>, <clink>.....
Black Úlfarr and Surtr join the larger group heading for the spire. They pad behind Torgeir's lead, moving as one in the dark.
Moving forwards towards the spire, you are able to catch up to Torgeir now that the water is behind you. Your group is swelled with the brothers and Hronnar - all keen for plunder.
The church doors open before you and a young man appears in a smock of brown that bears the motif of a tankard... the god of ale himself. He doesn't appear to have noticed you.
Roluo is joined by the old salt Gummi and the two swarthy huscarl with bearded axes borne afore them. Samr appears more bestial, teeth bared and breathing in heavy huffs as he lopes forwards.
The two men and girl child you saw emerge from the tavern. The two men are solidly built and garbed in leathers - hefting sturdy looking foresters axes with them. The girl child has a walking stick with her. With the back-light of the torches on the street they spy you approaching them and exchange words.
Waiting a few moments for Kitta and Ellisif to catch up, Jorleif kicks in the door of the house you flanked on approach. The interior is fitted out as a single room dwelling and a man wakes with a start atop his cot in one corner.
"Halfling!"
Roluo will move with the group.
Kjell jogs (double moves) 60ft in a direct line to the man who opened the doors to the church. (too far to effectively charge).
Black Úlfarr and Surtr continue keeping pace toward the church. "Might be dogs about. Surtr has caught the scent of something."
Motes of fairie light drip like water from the Ancor as Gylfir closes in on his first target.
Jorleif rushes to makes sure he doesn't get out of the cot
Hearing Úlfarr's words Torgeir barks a laugh;
Aye, but der hundr should æðra der ulfr!"
As his laugh dies on the wind, the spark in Torgeir's eye ignites, glowing like a dull ember as he roars towards the figure infront of the kirk;
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As most of you move forward with some degree of caution, two of the brothers Bjólfr and Ingólfr let their lust for combat get ahead of them - charging forward headlessly with a roar "Blod och plundring"
The young man in the smock reacts with horror at the sight of the charging northmen, skin paling noticeably as he withdraws within the spired building "Padre, padre, asaltantes vienen!" and you hear his call answered.
Closer that you are to the spired building, you can see some of the contents... and it does not appear to be as you expected. There are no pews, but instead tables and chairs. At least in the small portion you can see.
Roluo paces his steps to keep slightly behind the two huscarl who continue their measured charge. Drawing close, Njall is silent.. but Samr roars gutturally at the men, spittle flying from his mouth. Gummi keeps apace with Roluo slightly behind.
The two foresters heft their axes and stride forward into battle unafraid. They both bear beards and similar enough faces that they could be brothers. Roaring back "No nos llevará, sin la sangre bastarda del Norte" their axes flash forward in the night...
Battleaxe: for
Battleaxe: for
...Njall eating a strike that breaks through the chain on his gut to cut into flesh; while Samr's opponent is spooked by the Ulfen's ferocity and fails to connect.
The halfling takes a step backwards and holds her staff forward. Chanting in the same lilting language as the foresters "Ven los espíritus de los árboles, fortalecer a mi personal para que yo pudiera proteger." though there is no visible change as far as you can see.
Beyond them within the tavern there are another maybe six or more patrons preparing to emerge.
Jorleif acts with swiftness, claiming first blood of the assault. As his mace blasts into the man's chest - crushing it with a sickening sound of cracking ribs - he feels a surge of vigor suffusing him.
Kitta and Ellisif follow you in and find the man already dealt with, Kitta giving Jorleif an accepting nod. After a quick review of the house - they call to the Crestefalla "Come Jorleif, let us act against the andas before turning to plunder"
Kjell burst into the church and charges the first person he sees.
Axe Att:
Axe Dam: