"Methinks we'd best catch our breath for now." The stout looks around the weary party. "I'm sure some of us will be feeling better in a few hours time, we can set out in the morn'"
"Methinks we'd best catch our breath for now." The stout looks around the weary party. "I'm sure some of us will be feeling better in a few hours time, we can set out in the morn'"
Bolli's men arrive on a small launchboat and begin the task of rebuilding the tow cable winch. The trader says that his men will gladly keep watch over the night while you rest and prepare for your journey. After some time the sailors manage to jury-rig the tow cable and in an hour's time the ships are brought to the beach. A few of the other men quickly set about building cooking fires and a warm repast of mutton stew and bannock is ready to warm your bellies and restore your health. In addition, Bolli offers all of you a flagon of honey heather ale. You also see the trader take kindly to Trygvarr's children ensuring that they are comfortable and fed. Both youth exhausted from their ordeal soon fall to sleep.
Dorvarr
Dorvarr
** spoiler omitted **
Bolli's men arrive on a small launchboat and begin the task of rebuilding the tow cable winch. The trader says that his men will gladly keep watch over the night while you rest and prepare for your journey. After some time the sailors manage to jury-rig the tow cable and in an hour's time the ships are brought to the beach. A few of the other men quickly set about building cooking fires and a warm repast of mutton stew and bannock is ready to warm your bellies and restore your health. In addition, Bolli offers all of you a flagon of honey heather ale. You also see the trader take kindly to Trygvarr's children ensuring that they are comfortable and fed. Both youth exhausted from their ordeal soon fall to sleep.
Kveldulf gladly joins Bolli's men in repairing the tow winch. The manual labor seems to lift his spirits. After helping the men bring both ships to shore with the newly repaired winch, he proceeds to celebrate with great abandon. He eats enough for two men and downs his flagon of ale quite quickly, then looks about sheepishly for more.
Late in the night when deep in his cups, Kveldulf raises his head to look upon the full moon and begins to sing in a long sorrowful tone.
Drink, for the wind blows cold and
Drink for The Wolf runs free.
Drink to the ships with the sails like wings and
Drink to the storm-tossed seas.
Drink to the lasting nights
and those who warm our beds.
Drink to the mead that warms our hearts
and the cold that clears our head.
Drink to the Allfather's Eye
for Odin's sons are we.
Drink to the World-Tree where he hung
and the Runes of Mystery.
Drink to the truth of steel
and blood that falls like rain.
Drink to Valhalla's golden walls
and to our kinsmen, slain.
Drink to the Glory-field
where a man embraces death, and
thank the gods that we live at all
with our joyous dying breath!
Drink for the wind blows cold and
Drink for the Wolf runs free
Drink to the ships with the sails like wings
for Odin's sons are we!
He finishes the heartfelt tune, eyes misty and slowly nods off into sleep.
Ragnarr raises his flagon as Kveldulf chants his ode. "A fine song," he grunts in appreciation...
The night passes uneventfully and you all are for once able to get a good night's sleep as Bolli's men keep watch. A gentle rain in the early hours of the morning soothes the ravaging flames in the further off in the forest and by sunrise the fires have all but died down. As you awake, the air has a wet and ashen taste. The sky is gloomy and overcast and the autumn rain drizzles coldly threatening to become a wet snow. Already, Bolli's sailors by the boat have started a fire serving a stiff, piping hot elderberry tea. Some meat and cheese provide a cold breakfast. Bolli greets you as he hunkers down by the fire sipping his tea. His eyes keep a vigilant watch on the blackened forest. He opens his mouth to say something but then thinking better of it closes it. The trader makes some small talk with his men but you see his eyes occasionally make a furtive glance towards gnarled and twisted shapes of the burnt wood.
The stout man dresses in his armour and prepares himself for the day, after a quick tea and a hearty meal. Praying to Thor, he steadies himself for another day.
"Well, lads, whenever you're ready..." He says as he eyes the darkened forest.
"Whenever you are, my friend."
"Utgaror... know you how we might reach this Grove of the Old Ones, and what we might find once we reach it?"
The youth turns to your group. "There were men that came here a few weeks ago. Warriors in mail. Led by a foreign man in black robes with a strange accent. My dad said he was a Frank. They were looking for something in the woods. I overheard one of the warriors speak of the Grove of the Old Ones. They left and we did not see them for several days. They came back with a cage covered in cloth. My father had an argument with the Frank telling them they could not stay at the lodge. That night the warriors took me and my sister captive. They said that our father would only see us when the Frank was finished what he came to do.
"Methinks these villains may have left a trail we can follow to the Grove. We ought to be prepared for more of these things, among other horrors..."
"Methinks these villains may have left a trail we can follow to the Grove. We ought to be prepared for more of these things, among other horrors..."
"Friend Dorvarr, let me assist you. I have tracked more than one stag through the forest and men be no different.." grunts the grizzled warrior.
Taking Dorvarr and Kveldulf's lead, Ragnarr also begins to search the area near the eves of the wood for tracks left by the Franks...
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Hi all. Hope you're doing well. I've had some thinking this week about the game and the simple truth is I don't feel that I have the time to continue running this. I've started my placement in the school and with rehearsals, other course obligations and real life this usually comes dead last. Also, in truth when 10 at night rolls around I don't have the energy or the inclination to sit down and write up a meaningful post. So its been grand guys but I think its best not to drag it out and upfront that I think its time to put this to bed. Again thanks for your involvement and some really grand rping (over a msg board nonetheless). I've quite enjoyed your tellings of Viking tales, poetry and songs. A lot of rich stuff and I feel bad for not continuing on with it but real life is an intrusive thing.
Have a good long weekend to my fellow Canucks. I'll be returning up North for a few days before slogging on here in the city so looking forward to having that bit of a breather. Take care and thanks again guys!
Understood, and no hard feelings. Funny thing is... I was telling Boxhead last night that I was feeling a bit overburdened as well, playing in three PbPs, trying to keep a pen 'n' paper campaign on track, juggling a heavy workload and personal commitments... and that if one of the PbPs I played in came to an end, I wouldn't seek to replace it with another. Did I wish too hard? ;-)
Sooooo... thanks, Brendan and everyone for an awesome game, it's been a blast. I appreciate all the work you put into the game, Brendan -- I imagine that being a PbP DM can be an especially thankless and time consuming tasks!
So cheers, and good luck with school and everything else...
P.S.: That having been said... if someone else wanted to pick up the DM's reigns for this particular game, I would consider staying on as a player. I think we have a really excellent group, and interesting PCs, and a pretty decent commitment level, overall...
Frustrated with his inability to find tracks, despite his best efforts, the man-beast turns to his companions and the sailors. "You know what? Bolli, you can take your stinking job and shove it... I never liked your stupid ship anyway... and I don't owe anyone anything... see ya!"
And without even bidding a proper farewell to the companions he thought more fondly of, Ragnarr begins the long hike back through the wilderness to Raudurfoss... where, against all odds, he will settle down with Ragnhild, the love of his dreams. Together they will raise a brood of quarter-man-beasts, and live happily ever after... at least, until Ragnarok...
Vlad bids farewell to his companions, passes them small gifts of remembrance, and treks off. His eventual goal: restoring Halfdeane to the throne of Raudurfoss.