Oh, getting right to it, Mister Vikingr.
Krill bounces to the doorway and with ears to the wooden door he earnestly listens before he inspects the door before flinging it open. It silently glides open on well oiled hinges but within the lightless room only bare frames of junk and detritus are seen.
Wesh will walk forward towards the doorway to illuminate the room.
Wesh readies his light imbued shield and shed the glum room which confirms the initial assessment. It really is full of junk and detritus. Broken furniture and shreds of torn up sacks litter the floor. However, light from the shield also reveals a second door within the room at the North East corner.
Krill this time investigates the door at his own accord and repeats the same routine.
Wesh says "This place doesn't look that well maintained. If there is someone down here they are hiding and want us to think that it is abandoned."
Someone's behind this one, someone big and heavy. The halfling looks on, gesturing for a course of action.
Hack brandishes his axe and adds in a low voice through clenched teeth.
Aye then...let's get at it.
Wesh nods in agreement.
Skane steps to the heavy door and matches Wesh's nod with a grim smile;
"Should we knock or just let ourselves in?"
Krill pushes the door to well oiled hinges gliding it open.
Wesh's magical light floods the room revealing a larged stooped creature with a large club. It turns to face the door and grins, drooping saliva over misshapen lips in an ugly almost human like face. Its thick ape like arms raises its club as the strides towards you. The ogre smiles at dinner served at the door.
Seeing a foe worthy of the Sagas Skane charges forward, almost bowling over Krill as he thunders forward;
"Kveðja jotunn! Láta mig kynna þú til Norður- stál!"
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Wesh moves forward with his shield illuminating the area and with his morningstar attacks the big thing E11.
Hack slides to G11 and lays into the Ogre.
Greataxe ATT:
Greataxe DAM:
The ogre barely has time to think of any nice human recipes when he finds his entrails slithering on the floor from a sweeping greataxe blow and finds his jaw battered open from a crushing spiked metal ball and barely has time to feel it when his head flies off, hacked savagely by a northern axe.
The thud of the ogre body as it falls to the floor resumes the still quiet of the room. Krill tiptoes into the 20x20 foot lightless room with a recently dead ogre missing his head. Wesh helpfully shines around for a better look see.
A reinforced oaken door exits to the south of this room. A pile of skins and rugs are heaped in a corner with some broken bottles and bits of bone. Tucked into a recess you also spot a small chest.
Skane stands over the dead ogre, armoured boot propping the severed head up;
"What a skul-cup this would make nei?"
He nods towards the chest;
"Krill... if ye would..."
The halfling steps over to the chest, fiddling with it for a moment before flinging it open. He rummages through the contents and lays out a few items for inspection.
+ A finely crafted steel scimitar (MW)
+ A heap of dirty, bloodied, soiled clothing
+ Scattered coins amounting to 35GP 85SP
What about the other door?
Krill points towards the reinforced southern door.
Aye...take a look half-man, if ye will?
Krill shuffles to the door and does his usual examination, before he pushes the door open to a room without light. A soft moan calls out from the darkness with perceptible clanking of chains.
Krill takes a step back and trains his crossbow into the room.
Now this part is yours instead!
snaps Krill back at Hack.
Aye, shall we Countless? Some light would be good, Wesh?
hack hefts his Greataxe before him ans strides cautiously towards the open door.
Skane nods, waiting for Wesh to shed some light on the situation
"Calm yerself liten one... Hack means you nei harm..."
Skane moves to the other side of the darkened doorframe, axe and shield readied.
Wesh moves forward provides light, revealing a sorry sight. Manacled to the walls are the slumped frames of two men, naked save for loincloth and numerous cuts and welts upon the bodies. Although breathing, they two barely look up, wrists sore from struggling and lips parched from thirst.
A third figure, manacled at the room's darker corner does not stir at all, though seemingly wild with extremely hirsute hair matted with dried cakes of blood. Only a loincloth clothes him, and does little to hide the criss cross of scars and fresh laceration wounds.
Skane spits in distaste at the sight of men shackled and without swords in their hands;
"Fátækur djöfull. fæða fyrir the vanskapningur" he mutters in thick Skald.
The Vikingr drops his guard a little and enters the room, gesturing Krill to follow
Poor devils. Food for the monster."
Moving in swiftly, the halfling gets to work quickly, the manacles giving way to the careful prodding and tinkering of Krill's deft hands. One by one the manacles loosen up and the men lie, grateful of the liberty granted.
Wesh asks the injured man "do you need any help?" and if gets no respose checks to see if he is still alive.
Sitting, the two men slowly rub the circulation back into their devitalized arms, wringing it back to life after so long a period suspended.
The filth on the men's bodies tells terrible tales of the period incarcerated.
One of the men look up and whisper, Water...food if you have any to spare.
The other man chimes in, Help us...get us out of here...
Wesh asks "Is there anything I can do to help? " ti the big hairy man. Wesh will get out his waterskin and offer it to the man and then refill it with create water and ask "do you want more?"
Skane smiles grimly;
"Careful Prestur... der wild maður might eat you... Har!"
The other two men look with eager eyes at Wesh, eager for the waterskin he holds and offers to the hirsute. With a pitiful, shaky voice, one of them cries out, For the love of Desna...water for us too...
The words of the thirsty men are drowned by the booming voice of Skane;
"Grimmur efstu svalir guð almáttugur! Ye ásækja mig með a Vardøger af minn bróðir Bjorn!"
Cruel gods! Ye haunt me with a doppleganger of my brother Bjorn!
The armoured Vikingr steps forward both angered and confused...
The recently incarcerated men drink their fill from the waterskin and llok visibly revitalized after the long drink. They hand back a visibly deflated water skin to Siral.
May Desna look upon you kindly during your travels. We are brothers, Myck is my name and my sibling Joul. It has been a two day since our cart was confiscated along the road from Holmstead. If not for you, not even our bodies would remain to be found. We would head upstairs and rest there before we find our way back.
Joul adds on, We would head back to Holmstead once our strength returned. But I fear that may be a while.
The two brothers look up at the unleashed fury of their fellow prisoner, wide eyed.
Whispering; We could never understand the wilder's speech. But I though he lost his tongue by the way he seemed to understand us instead.
Hack approaches the hirsute man and attempts to pull him away from Wesh.
Back off, brother!
Grapple:
Countless, talk sense t'this Bjorn!
Wesh says "Björn ætti ég hef beðið þig að hjálpa í skáld?"
Skane leans over to the wild man who pins Wesh, gruffly whispering at the giant with a cold look in his eyes;
"Heed the Prestur's kind words... Minn vilja vera stál beittur vera í af Björn's húð"
Minn vilja vera stál beittur vera í af björn húð = Mine will be steel edged wearer of Bjorn's skin
The ragged man peers at the vikingr from the corner of his eye. "Skane...? Hvað er ég að gera hér?"
Wesh says "Ég held að ekkert af okkur vita" He has a look as if he is confused as to why bjorn doesn't seem to remember. He also seems uncomfortable still pinned against the wall.
Krill offers the other survivors Myck and Joul some of his rationed meals.
If you're going to get out of here I'd better show you the way. I wouldn't like to try this myself without specialized training.
He continues watching the brothers wolf down the chunks of cheese and dried meat down.
Skane looks as confused as his shield brodir before him;
"Bjorn? Where ist Rianna? Why are you here..."
The vikingr steps back, but his sheild and axe remain ready...
Wesh looks like he will ask a question but then decides against it and this time asks "viltu að tengja okkur aftur?" Then he continues with a more saracastic statement " You can let go now"
Bjorn slowly slides Wesh back down to his feet. "Ég er hryggur, vinur prests"
He claps the cleric on the shoulder and turns to his fellow vikingr. "Við vorum á leiðinni. Allt var vel. A skuggi féll á mig. Eins og ég sneri, var bara glampi af einhverju sem kemur á mig og þá var allt svart. Ég vaknaði hér, handjárnaða til að vegg. Það var Ogre sem söng uppskrift hans fyrir matreiðslu mönnum." The hulking brute's shoulders slump and his voice comes out as barely more than a whisper, "Ég hef ekki séð Rianna...'
We were on the road. All was well. A shadow fell across me. As I turned, I saw a flash of something moving at me then all went black. I woke here, chained to that wall. There was an ogre who sang his recipe for cooking humans.
I have not seen Rianna...
"Whoa...whoa.." Betony is in for a bouncy ride as Thistledown bounds into the small room, tail wagging, and many licks for Bjorn.
She reins him in with a concerned look when she hears that Rianna is not also here. "Maybe in another room? The Ogre wouldn't have...", but she doesn't finish the statement, but everyone must be thinking it.
Skane looks at his fellow Northman with a mixture of pity and confusion;
"Tröll dropateljari der Stóribjörn? Það geta ekki vera. Við slátrari der skepna auðveldlega. Ást sljór þinn skilningarvit bróðir!"
Ogre dropped the Great Bear? It cannot be... We butchered the brute easily... Love dulled your senses brother!
As Bjorn's tale sinks in his stance mellows, but Betony's words have resonance to the hard-bitten Vikingr.
He gestures Hack over, walking to him and whispering to warrior;
"We gutted the brute - check its stomach for any signs..."
Hack nods...he turs and heads back into the killing room. He sets to the grim work of checking the contents of the Ogre's stomach.
Hack as his namesake hacks the ogre's corpse, spilling the innards in a flood of gastric juices and partially digested food. Apart from the broken down meat and partially crushed bones, an intact ring is also found, plain tarnished silver.
Krill walks over and curls his nose in disgust.
I'm taking these two fellows back to Holmstead. I don't think it's fair to let them find their own way back, with the condition they're in. Anyone else coming with me?