Dorvarr, hammer in hand, warily approaches the seemingly deserted homestead. Glancing through the sidedoor, the cleric sees signs of a bloody struggle. The pantry shelves are broken, pots litter the floor and benches in the hall are upturned. The hall is only dimly lit by the few rays of sun that pierce through the doorway. The floor is of stout timber planks. Looking around, the priest sees two human warriors lying motionless in pools of blood. The warriors are dressed in torn and gouged leather armour and hides. Dorvarr notices curious curling glyph patterns painted in red running down their arms. Three of the wolf-sized spiders lie at their feet slain by sword. At the back of the hall a third man lies draped over the great chair, an axe protruding from his back. This third man sports a mane of long blonde hair and an unkempt beard. He is dressed in hides and in a lifeless grip holds a keen broadsword. Dorvarr sees no signs of the glyph markings that adorned the other two warriors.
Listen DC 14
Vlad points warily to the great chair with his sword-point. He mutters low to Dorvarr's ear "Ware! Something stirs..."
Vlad points warily to the great chair with his sword-point. He mutters low to Dorvarr's ear "Ware! Something stirs..."
The stout man also readies himself, wearily hefting his hammer...
The floorplanks are swept aside by the great chair and a burly bearded man with a shaven head totters up. You can see he bleeds heavily from many wounds but with an indomitable will continues to move holding an axe but not threatening with it. His bulbuos nose is adorned with a great golden nose ring and his muscular arms are emblazoned with the same red swirling glyphs as those of the two dead warriors.
In a gravelly voice he grunts, "Who be ye?"
Knowledge (local) DC 15
The stout man prods the knight to speak.
"See who he is, and how we can help. He'll look to you, lad."
"I am Vladimir Kjelsbergsson, sworn armsman of Halfdeane. These are my brave companions- the stout man here is Dorvarr Thorshammer, and the giant is Ragnarr the Fatherless. Who be yourself, and do ye need aid?"
The wounded warrior eyes the three of you warily keeping his distance. His grip tightens on the haft of his axe, "Name's, Brack. Sailor with a merchantman. Tis poor luck we decided to take this woodsmen's hospitality for the night. Twas attacked by these vermin ye see. We did the best we could but the creatures were all around. With my brothers fallen and myself wounded I hid myself here.' Brack gestures to the dead spiders and the hole below the boards. His cold eyes again lock with you regarding you uncertainly. "Are they all gone? Any more of ye?"
Sense Motive 9
Vlad, still tired from his long run in the heavy breastplate, pays no more heed to the man's story.
"Aye. We fought a few spider-things in the barn, ere it collapsed in flames atop us. We, and the children, escaped. Be they your brats?"
He wipes his sword on a cloth nearby, and then sheathes it, letting his shoulders sag slightly.
The burly warrior's eyes widen as Vladimir mentions the children. Suddenly, the man bolts to the great hall's exit at a full run moving wide around the three of you. The man skillfully weaves through the shattered remnants of the hall and the blood corpses just bursting through the threhsold of the main doors.
Initiative
Dorvarr 18
Ragnarr 13
Warrior 8
Vlad 6
Outside, Kveldulf's reverie is broken by Utgaror's shout. The fatigued barbarian sees Utgaror pointing towards the homestead as a burly warrior with shaven head and arms emblazoned with red swirling glyphs breaks out the main door. In his right hand he grips a hefty axe. The man looks uncertainly around him but seems about to decide to make a run for the river.
Kveldulf
The stout man cries out:
"Where are ye going! Halt in the name of Thor!"
And then begins to take up a cautious pursuit, readying a javelin.
Surprise and shock wash across Kveldulf as he is brought from his nap. Not believing what he is seeing he rubs his eyes.
"Dishonorable cretin!" he shouts shaking his fist at the ax wielding, tattooed man attempting to make a run for it. "I'll show you the price for stealing a sailor's vessel and then crossing his path again in this life."
Wasting no time, the warrior draws his longbow with great alacrity as if it is the most common thing one does moments after waking. He draws an ebony fletched arrow to his cheek and furrows his brow as he draws down upon the traitorous pirate aiming purposely for his backside. He looses cleanly, arrow streaming towards the target as it gains distance, but falls far short of it's target sending a spray of dirt at the targets fleeing heels.
"You can't outrun Thistle Wind. Drop to the dirt or my next arrow will find more than the dirty your boots!"
Vlad, shock on his face, takes up a run after the fleeing warrior, drawing his sword as he does so.
The bald warrior only gives a hasty glance back as he hears the twang of Kveldulf's bow. The young boy by Utgaror's side seeing the fugitive cries out, "Murderer!".
The druid utters a foul curse and begins running after the man though he is not able to catch up. (50' behind)
Watching Utgardor run off, Ottarr decides to hang back to make sure te children stay safe.
Ragnarr growling in growing anger charges after the fugitive who seeing his pursuit quickens his pace. The stranger reaches the riverbank and looks about desperately for a means of escape but seeing none but the river readies to dive in but the quick-footed Ragnarr is baring down upon him.
Vlad covers most of the remaining distance from the fleeing warrior (moved 40' last round, up to a x3 run for 60' this round... need... Gatorade...)
Seeing the pirate quickly slipping from his grasp, Kveldulf curses his poor shot and runs off after his target quickly reaching him, along with Ragnarr at the river's edge, a look of malice in his eye.
The stout man pauses briefly at the threshold of the homestead, casting a quick look around to make sure nobody else seems to be hiding. He then hefts his javelin and begins his pursuit.
With Ragnarr and Kveldulf right on him the fugitive warrior desperately tries to bob and weave as he throws himself into the river.
Ragnarr's vicious blow catches the fugitive across his side. The wounded warrior already weakened falls back into the river. The flowing waters quickly turn a deep crimson.
The stout man pauses briefly at the threshold of the homestead, casting a quick look around to make sure nobody else seems to be hiding. He then hefts his javelin and begins his pursuit.
I assume that I didn`t see anything else?
"Oops... maybe I struck him too hard," mumbles the man-beast meekly, as he places a hand on the dead man's ankle, momentarily preventing him from floating downstream. "I guess that kill first, ask questions later, doesn't work... sorry... Now what?"
"Never ye mind," puffs Vlad, a little green for his running exploits of the last hour, "It was well done, Ragnarr- he fled when we mentioned yon children... I'm sure he meant them some harm. 'Twas well done."
I assume that I didn`t see anything else?The stout man pauses briefly at the threshold of the homestead, casting a quick look around to make sure nobody else seems to be hiding. He then hefts his javelin and begins his pursuit.
Nothing out of place. The fires still burn hot back in the forest but the enemies human and otherwise have been dispatched. A few of the horses drink water by the broken tow cable tower.
The lad by Utgaror stares coldly at the dead fugitive. "He was one of the bastards that came with the Frank. All them had those markings on them," he points to the swirling red glyphs that adorn the man's lifeless arm. I remember one of my father's men called them Picts like it was a curse."
Dorvarr watches as the barbarian cuts down the man. He then turns back to the homestead, resuming his search for any survivors.
"Anyone else hiding in here?"
Ragnarr drags the corpse back to shore and searches it.
Ragnarr sifts through the body and discovers 30gp in beltpouch, a blood stained dagger. The man was wearing only leather armour and wielding a battleaxe.
Ragnarr pockets the coins, not thinking to offer to divide the loot with his companions, and throws the corpse back in the river. "Let the brigand drift downstream and feed the sea monsters, if they will have him..."
"Aye." Vlad agrees.
"Well, do the children come with us? They will likely be safer with us than alone in this place, and my liege, Halfdeane, will find a place for them in his court." He offers the girl a small smile, and a nod to the boy. "He is a good man, you will be cared for."
Kveldulf sighs as he watches the beast man nearly cleave the Pictish pirate in twain.
"Dead men be tellin' no tales, but the markings on this ones arms tell volumes. This man shares the same markings as the bloody pirates that razed my captain's ship. What he be doing here and why he be working for a Frank, I know not. Nothing good can come of this though. If we only knew more of what they were after. The boy said they were searching for something deeper in the woods. Mayhap its still there. Mayhap they are still there! I say we turn from this river and head back the other direction in hopes we find more of what is unfolding. As for the children if Halfdean and his men want to raise children, then it is there wish, but I'll have no part of it. The only thing this warrior will be razing are the settlements of my enemies... Keep them quiet and keep them out of my way and all will be fine."
"Agreed, I prefer the woods to the river," grunts the man-beast. "But will this put us in debt to Bolli, if we do not finish the sailing with him?"
Dorvarr continues his search of the homestead, oblivious to the conversation outside. He'll take his time as necessary, especially making sure that there are no survivors (by which I mean trying to help, not finish them off...).
As your band confers as to the next step a booming voice echoes down the river that you recognize as Bolli. "What ho???!!!", the man's baritone rings clearly down the valley.
Dorvarr
The stout man comes out of the house, returning to the rest of the group, a solemn look on his face.
"I did not find any survivors in the homestead. May they find their way to Valhalla."
With a sigh, Vlad begins his way back towards the river. "Ho, Bolli! News!"
On reaching Bolli, he lets him know of the developments, asks if they can spare room for the youths, and presents his companion's suggestion that perhaps they take the woods, rather than the river.
After a few shouts back and forth across the water, Bolli swims to shore from his knorr to confer with you.
The wet trader looks around at the scene of devastation, his expression turning stony cold. He nods to Vladimir, "Aye, we can make room for the young ones. I knew Trygvarr, their father, well, when we were younger." The man pauses and regards the skies above. "Well men. I believe our ships can wait for three days before we must leave the river lest the ice block our path. There is foulness to this business and ye'd be right to sniff it out. I'll beach our ships here and try to do the best we can for the dead."
"So... how does one find this... Grove of the Old Ones??? If the forest is wide and deep here, it might be much like searching for a needle in a hay stack..."